#into the industrial dishwasher he goes

[unikhroma]

"i hate him so fucking much" it thinks to itself as it draws him 13 times in a row

[reasonsforhope]

"Namibia is the driest country in Sub-Saharan Africa, and home to two of the world’s most ancient deserts, the Kalahari and the Namib. The capital, Windhoek, is sandwiched between them, 400 miles away from the nearest perennial river and more than 300 miles away from the coast. Water is in short supply.

It’s hard to imagine life thriving in Windhoek, yet 477,000 people call it home, and 99 per cent of them have access to drinking water thanks to technology pioneered 55 years ago on the outskirts of the city. Now, some of the world’s biggest cities are embracing this technology as they adapt to the harshest impacts of climate change. But Namibia leads the way.

How did this come about? In the 1950s, Windhoek’s natural resources struggled to cope with a rapidly growing population, and severe water shortages gripped the city. But disaster forced innovation, and in 1968 the Goreangab Water Reclamation Plant in Windhoek became the first place in the world to produce drinking water directly from sewage, a process known as direct potable reuse (DPR). 

That may sound revolting, but it’s completely safe. Dr Lucas van Vuuren, who was among those who pioneered Windhoek’s reclamation system, once said that “water should not be judged by its history, but by its quality”. And DPR ensures quality. 

This is done using a continuous multi-barrier treatment devised in Windhoek during eight years of pilot studies in the 1960s. This process – which has been upgraded four times since 1968 – eliminates pollutants and safeguards against pathogens by harnessing bacteria to digest the human waste and remove it from the water. This partly mimics what happens when water is recycled in nature, but Windhoek does it all in under 24 hours...

Pictured: These ultrafiltration membranes help to remove bacteria, viruses and pathogens. Image: Margaret Courtney-Clarke

“We know that we have antibiotics in the water, preservatives from cosmetics, anti-corrosion prevention chemicals from the dishwasher,” Honer explains. “We find them and we remove them.”

Honer adds that online instruments monitor the water continuously, and staff ensure that only drinking water that meets World Health Organisation (WHO) guidelines is sent to homes. If any inconsistencies are detected, the plant goes into recycle mode and distribution is halted until correct values are restored. 

“The most important rule is, and was, and always will be ‘safety first’,” says Honer.  The facility has never been linked to an outbreak of waterborne disease, and now produces up to 5.5m gallons of drinking water every day – up to 35 per cent of the city’s consumption.

Namibians couldn’t survive without it, and as water shortages grip the planet, Windhoek’s insights and experience are more important than ever.

Interest from superpowers across the globe

In recent years, delegations from the US, France, Germany, India, Australia, Singapore, and the United Arab Emirates have visited Windhoek seeking solutions to water shortages in their own countries. 

Megadrought conditions have gripped the US since 2001, and the Colorado River – which provides 40 million people with drinking water – has been running at just 50 per cent of its traditional flow. As a result, several states including Texas, California, Arizona and Colorado are beginning to embrace DPR.

Troy Walker is a water reuse practice leader at Hazen and Sawyer, an environmental engineering firm helping Arizona to develop its DPR regulations. He visited Windhoek last year. “It was about being able to see the success of their system, and then looking at some of the technical details and how that might look in a US facility or an Australian facility,” he said. “[Windhoek] has helped drive a lot of discussion in industry. [Innovation] doesn’t all have to come out of California or Texas.”

Pictured: The internal pipes and workings of Namibia's DPR plant. As water becomes scarcer in some parts, countries are looking to DPR for solutions. Image: Margaret Courtney-Clarke

Namibia has also helped overcome the biggest obstacle to DPR – public acceptance. Disgust is a powerful emotion, and sensationalist ‘toilet to tap’ headlines have dismantled support for water reuse projects in the past. Unfortunately, DPR’s biggest strength is also its biggest weakness, as the speed at which water can re-enter the system makes it especially vulnerable to prejudice, causing regulators to hesitate. “Technology has never been the reason why these projects don’t get built – it’s always public or political opposition,” says Patsy Tennyson, vice president of Katz and Associates, an American firm that specialises in public outreach and communications.

That’s why just a handful of facilities worldwide are currently doing DPR, with Windhoek standing alongside smaller schemes in the Philippines, South Africa and a hybrid facility in Big Spring, Texas. But that’s all changing. Drought and increased water scarcity worldwide are forcing us to change the way we think about water. 

Now, the US is ready to take the plunge, and in 2025, El Paso Water will begin operating the first ‘direct to distribution’ DPR facility in North America, turning up to 10m gallons of wasterwater per day into purified drinking water – twice as much as Windhoek. San Diego, Los Angeles, California, as well as Phoenix, Arizona are also exploring the technology."

Of course, DPR is not a silver bullet in the fight against climate change. It cannot create water out of thin air, and it will not facilitate endless growth. But it does help cities become more climate resilient by reducing their reliance on natural sources, such as the Colorado River. 

As other nations follow in Namibia’s footsteps, Windhoek may no longer take the lead after almost six decades in front.

“But Windhoek was the first,” Honer reminds me. “No one can take that away.”"

-via Positive.News, August 30, 2023

[icestarphoenix]

Pennsylvania Headcanons

PA’s State Spirit forms cracks and chips all over his body, like that of stone. Small chipped pieces float around him. The revealed inside caused by the chips is shrouded by a bright purple light. The biggest rupture is on his back, with a large crater that has light bursting out of it.

The gaps in his body don’t really exist, it’s just how the Spirit looks. Touching the cracks and gaps will feel like normal skin, but those spots feel more sensitive to PA.

The stone cracks are a reference to the Keystone State nickname. A keystone is the middle stone at the top of an arch that holds all the other stones in place and lets the structure bear weight. It’s the most important part, without it the arch falls. 

Pennsylvania was a very important state as the site of the former capital, where the Declaration and Constitution were signed, and being economically important in manufacturing and agriculture.

He’s cracked and chipped now because he’s kind of past his glory days of being the heart and center of the country. He doesn’t have the capital anymore and he gets outclassed in many industries that used to be his best.

The significant crater being where it is is a little nod to how PA feels that he should have some serious back problems after carrying the country for decades.

While sort of a random choice for Spirit color, purple used to be a color only obtainable by royalty due to how difficult it was to get the pigment. Nowadays, anyone can have vivid purple stuff for cheap. It makes his exposed interior look like amethyst, which is findable in Pennsylvania. Also I needed some more purple-colored Spirits for this country. Blue and gold for so many of these official colors…

PA likes making handcrafted wooden pieces as a hobby. He often forgets that the Statehouse has power tools, which makes his finished works all the more impressive.

His large Amish population makes him forget about having power tools as an option.

Many of the states have their own cast iron skillets that they’ve seasoned over decades (the South all have theirs monogrammed.) Even Florida knows not to mess with them, but that doesn’t stop other, well-meaning states from causing some close calls.

The oldest cast iron skillet in the house belongs to PA, a 140-year old ERIE logo Griswold lovingly named Firefly. This is probably the closest thing he has to a child.

Washington nearly put her in a dishwasher once. Firefly was unharmed, but it took four states holding PA back to give them enough time to escape before he beat Wash to a pulp for almost killing his baby.

I’ve considered giving PA pants that flare out at the bottom, kind of like disco pants from the 70’s.

Disco as a genre and subculture saw its origins in Philadelphia and New York City.

The moment he senses a spotted lanternfly nearby, PA will not be stopped by anything until he annihilates it with the wrath of a thousand northeasterners. Then he goes back to whatever he was doing like nothing happened.

Spotted lanternflies are not fireflies. The latter is endangered and is good pest control. Spotted lanternflies are an invasive species and are harmful to many native flora that are important to the state’s economy.

As one of the strongest states in the country, he often causes slight property damage whenever he does so.

Sometimes PA and other afflicted colleagues (mainly New Jersey) will go together to different states and compete to see who can get rid of more in an allotted time. Truthfully, the contest doesn’t really matter and they don’t keep close counts. It's just as many as they can find.

PA is part of the Groundhog Day “inner circle,” the ones that plan the event and care for Phil. As the humans do, he will claim that Punxsutawney Phil is immortal just like himself and that he’s been the same groundhog for 136 years, no matter how much the other states try to disprove him.

Punxsutawney, the borough’s personification, is also part of the inner circle. Unlike PA, Punxsy can understand “Groundhogese,” the only person able to do so besides the president of the inner circle.  

Marines (the personification) often does under-the-table deals with PA, exchanging chocolate for crayons. While PA doesn’t necessarily need chocolate from Marines, it is an excuse to eat more chocolate.

Hershey, Pennsylvania is the Chocolate Capital of the US. It has the Hershey Company headquarters and their chocolate factory.

Lehigh, Pennsylvania has the Crayola headquarters.

[aizenat]

Listening to conservative commentators “blame” the lack of a red wave this election season on things like mail in ballets and democrats being able to appeal to independent/undecided voters is wild. Tomi Lahren legit on Fox News stating, in laymen terms, that democrats won because people voted.

And they phrase it like it’s a bad thing! Oh people exercised their constitutional right to vote, something not all of us had until recently, and that’s why republicans lost. Because how dare people we don’t want voting actually vote! Like how insane do you have to be to make that your point! And to say it so blatantly. Like voter suppression is unconstitutional, but conservatives don’t care if it gets them their votes.

This line of thinking is ironically why people came out and voted democrat this year. Because the message has been that letting republicans win means the end of our democracy. The way I’ve heard that said so many times this election cycle. And then to pretty much prove that point by unironically saying “we need to get a handle on these election proceedings!”

Most people do not like trump. He lost the popular vote TWICE. Most people do not believe he lost in 2020 unfairly. Most people, especially moderates/independent voters who can go either way with their votes, do not like the culture war shit republicans keep trying to bank on. Wages are stagnant and inflation is drastically raising the cost of living. People don’t care about “big government spending” because that’s not what is making the cost of living go up (talking about Oz’s campaign in PA vs Fetterman’s free healthcare and lobbying for abortion rights which voters are going to care more about as that directly impacts them).

Republican politicians have become so out of touch, leaning into the most radical and zealous of their base instead of actually trying to relate to those moderates who want to see real change and do not like the culture war shit republicans have been running on for the last decade. Ppl are tired. They want to pay their bills, not debate who goes in what bathrooms and who should get married. The average American isn’t looking for a total upheaval of our capitalistic system, they just don’t want to be crushed by it. And at no point do you hear these republicans talking about tax breaks for the working class. They’re not talking about incentives to encourage companies to pay their workers well. They’re not talking about cracking down on predatory loans by banks or free childcare to working moms parents or safety incentives at schools to prevent mass shootings and the such.

Nope, they just want to keep running on building a costly wall that doesn’t impact the vast majority of Americans, bathroom bills when the average American not living in a metropolitan area will likely never meet a trans person, and robbing women of their right to decide not to risk their lives in childbirth. And then cry and blame trump or people ACTUALLY going out to vote on why they can’t win.

Republicans don’t stand for anything anymore. They just try to bank on “hey, at least I’m not that yuppy drinking soy lattes amirite?” But look at Fetterman! He is an Everyman! He gave speeches in jeans and a hoodie! He looks like the grumpy white men who work in my insanely white-male conservative industry and he believes in free universal healthcare! He believed in a living wage as the minimum wage! He believes in a woman’s right to choose! And you expect working class Pennsylvanians to vote for the tv fake doctor yuppy over this guy???? The guy who looks like the dude we call over to fix out dishwashers or would chat up at a car show or see down in jersey fishing for a relaxing weekend????? The guy who looks and lives just like us??????

Republicans are nuts and what they really need to get a grip on is building a case for why we would want to maintain the status quo because the longer we live in it, the less reasonable it seems.

Anyway, republicans get fucked. See you losers in 2024. ✌🏾

[herbertzucker]

The Hotel Safe Goes Home! - SafeDecisions Electronic Safes

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[bendtsengreene3]

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[spiderlilyserendipity]

More News At 6

Taehyung x reader

*this pic is just for a ✨preview✨ hehe* 

Genres: fluff, established relationship, idolxidol, tae x reader

Warnings: talks of pregnancy

WC: 1318

Requested by @heymi18

“Oh, the comments are coming in really quick today!” You say sweetly, happy to see all the people coming in.

It’s always amazing to see how fast the viewer count goes up when you and Taehyung go on vlive together. It had been a big source of worry to you before, coming out as a couple working in the same industry. You know how bad the scrutiny had been before, how nosy strangers can be about your relationship. But when people found out you were dating none other than Kim Taehyung, things calmed down a lot.

While you and Taehyung are both celebrities, you don’t doubt that Taehyung is on a level of his own. You never feel bad about it, but the truth is having Taehyung by your side is incredibly relieving. 

When you were worried about going public and scared of losing work due to the “scandal” of being in a relationship, it was Taehyung who stepped in for you. It was him who disclosed the relationship himself, posting a picture of you sipping coffee at a cafe during a date. You had been looking down at the sweet drink in your hand, eyes wide in excitement at the new flavour when he took the picture.

My darling. He’d captioned it. 

Even thinking about it makes your heart beat fast. My darling. You had captioned the vlive title, telling both your and Taehyung’s fans who you were on live with. Everyone had known for about a year now, and the fans were enthusiastic now. You wonder what you had been so scared for before.

You turn to look at Taehyung, who is busy setting up dinner and making it look pretty. You giggle at the cute pink apron he is wearing. He insisted on making dinner himself tonight, even though there was no special occasion.

“Taehyung looks really cute?” You read the comment aloud. In the screen, you see Taehyung look up from the table with a shy grin on his face. You smile wide. “When doesn’t he?”

“Ugh, babe.” He says, grabbing your wrist to pull you to sit down at the table.

The two of you exchange a fond look. You sit down together. The food Taehyung made is a couple of your favourite dishes, along with some chocolates from your favourite shop. You’ve never been one of those high maintenance celebrities, but Taehyung likes to keep track of what you like anyway. You’d never be mad at him seeing all this effort (even if the food wasn’t all your favourites), but it warms your heart anyway.

“Why are we going live today?” Taehyung reads another comment. He smiles and holds up his phone, showing the date. “Because it’s April 26th!”

As a flood of question marks come in, Taehyung’s smile turns boxy and cute. “Exactly, nothing important today. We just wanted to have dinner with our loving fans. We know the past year has been challenging since the dating news came out, so thank you for standing by us and protecting us. As a treat, we will chat and answer some questions about our relationship today!”

“What’s the cutest thing Y/N does every day?” Taehyung reads aloud. He looks at you and tucks a bit of your hair behind your ear. “Be herself. I like how honest she is with me and so nice to me. I’m really lucky.”

“You sure are.” You joke.

“Hey!” Taehyung laughs.

“Just kidding.” You say, kissing Taehyung’s cheek in apology. “What is the cutest thing Taetae does each day? I can’t name just one, guys! I love everything. I love his bedhead in the morning and how he sings really loudly in the shower and, yeah you get the point.” You laugh, taking a bite of your food.

Taehyung pouts beside you. “Meanie. You only told them bad things.”

You shake your head. “No, baby. It’s really cute. All of it.”

“Even my 5 o’clock shadow?” Taehyung challenges with a pout.

You turn to the phone propped up on a tripod that serves as your “main camera” for today. “More news at 6.” You say dramatically, making Taehyung gasp.

“Y/N!” He whines.

You laugh so hard you inhale a bit of your food. Despite being pouty, Taehyung rubs your back and pours you a glass of water.

The two of you go back and forth, answering the fan’s questions. They ask how often you get to see Tannie and if you’ve met each other’s parents. The answer is you don’t get to see Tannie often because he lives with Tae’s parents, but you visit their house pretty often anyway. Your parents as expected absolutely adore Taehyung, and you are always welcome at Tae’s parent’s house, too because of how warm his parents are.

“Like parents, like child.” You end your explanation. Your eyes go wide when you realize you’ve spent over an hour eating and answering questions. The dozens of questions flew by so fast you hardly noticed. “Oh, God! I’m so sorry guys. It’s so late. Our fans must have work and school tomorrow!”

Immediately, replies of “it’s okay” come in. Taehyung wraps an arm around your shoulders. “No, Y/N’s right. We can always go live another day!” He stands up, coming over to the phone. He bends down to look in the camera. He waves and you do, too, from the table. “Take care everyone! Have a good day tomorrow!” 

“My parents.” You read a comment aloud, giggling at it. “Don’t say that guys. I’m not even pregnant yet.”

In unison, everyone replies “yet??????” 

Taehyung straightens up, looking at you without the camera on him. He looks shocked. You had never mentioned pregnancy or things like that in front of him before. You pout. Of course you were thinking of it, how could he be so oblivious? You have been dating for two years already, even if the fans have only known for one year!

Suddenly, Taehyung pulls a poker face. He bends back down to the camera. “More news at 6.” He says, before turning the camera off.

You get up and start collecting dishes to rinse and put in the dishwasher.

As expected, Taehyung follows you to the kitchen. Quietly, you two start working. You rinse the dishes and Taehyung loads the dishwasher.

When you’re done, you’re about to take a wet cloth to wipe down the table but Taehyung stops you. He gives you a backhug, taking the cloth from your hands and rinsing it himself. “Did you mean that baby?” He whispers in your ear, incredibly hopeful.

He wrings out the cloth and steps away to go clean up the table and the kitchen. You start the dishwasher in the meantime. 

When he returns, you’re still at the sink. You watch him clean up the cloth and put it away with a smile on your face. “Of course I do baby. Why would I say it in front of everyone if I didn’t?”

Taehyung grins, pulling you in by the waist. “You’ve gotten really shameless these days, huh? You could hardly stand people taking pictures of us a year ago. Now you’re on vlive announcing we could have a baby any day now.”

You grin back at Taehyung. “It’s not really a lie though. We’re both adults!”

Taehyung leans in to kiss your forehead. “We are. But I have to ask your parents for your hand in marriage first.”

You giggle gleefully. “Agh Taehyung, you’re too charming for me.” You hug him tight, then pull back. “So when are you going to do it? Tell me!”

“I can’t tell you that! If you know when I meet them, you’ll also know when the proposal will be!” Taehyung teases, cupping your face in his big hands. 

You gasp. “Are you already thinking about how you’re going to propose?!”

Taehyung pulls away from you. “More news at 6.” He winks.

requests are open (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[missmentelle]

COVID-19, Inequality, and You

This pandemic has been a bad time in a lot of ways, but one of the most devastating impacts we’re going to see besides the death toll is the economic impact - the economic impact on real, working people, not on stock index numbers. Unemployment rates are skyrocketing, and people are being thrown into financial chaos as a result. 

But for all the talk we’ve heard during this pandemic of “we’re all in this together”, and “we’re all in the same boat”, it’s important to remember that, financially, we’re really, really not. Job losses, evictions and health crises are not equally distributed; if anything, this pandemic has been a stark reminder of inequality as the wealth gap grows wider and wider. 

My own life has been a weird cross-section of the ways that the pandemic has economically affected different people in very different ways - my mother has completely lost her job at a seasonal tourist restaurant that will likely go out of business, my brother’s hours at his campus security job have been cut as the school moves online, my boyfriend is seeing his savings rise as he goes out less but makes exactly the same salary at his financial tech job, and I’ve fielded multiple job offers through this pandemic as government grants for social services boom in my region in anticipation of a coming homelessness crisis.  

The news has been reporting on unemployment numbers and shuttered businesses, but there hasn’t been a lot of in-depth coverage about the ways that this is really going to affect people’s lives. There will be a lot of unexpected consequences to this pandemic if governments don’t step in to provide relief, including:

‘Eviction freezes’ are throwing tenants into debt without protecting their housing. Many places have put moratoriums on evictions during the pandemic, which is great. You don’t want a sudden surge in mass homelessness during a pandemic. But “no evictions” does not mean “no rent” - people who are currently being protected from eviction are still being charged rent, and their arrears are growing every month. As soon as eviction protections expire - which is set to happen very soon in many places - landlords can move forward with evicting tenants, going after their back rent, sending their debt to collection agencies and destroying their credit scores. 

A lot of people are about to lose most of their possessions. If you get evicted, your parents or friend might have room for you to move in with them for a while. They probably do not have room for your couch, dresser, bed, table, desk, bookshelves, TV and an entire apartment full of stuff. Putting your things in storage is an option, but you need to be able to pack and transport all of your things to the storage unit and pay for the unit every month. You could try selling the stuff you can’t take with you, but it may be difficult with so many other people also struggling financially, and you may have to leave on short notice. A lot of people who get evicted will end up abandoning a lot of their stuff, which they’ll have to re-purchase all over again to get back on their feet. 

People with low wages are disproportionately likely to lose their jobs. If you work as a software engineer, you’re probably still employed. If you work as a hotel maid, there’s a good chance you’ve lost your job or had your hours cut to nearly nothing. The jobs that are most impacted by shutdowns are jobs in the service and hospitality industry, and they tend to be low-wage, hourly jobs that cannot be done from home - bartenders, servers, hotel clerks, and dishwashers are way more likely to have lost their jobs than lawyers, accountants, engineers and college professors. In many ways, the people who are getting kicked the hardest right now are the ones who could least afford it. 

Not every university will survive this pandemic. With a lot of universities and colleges scrambling to figure out whether to have in-person fall semesters, the future of a lot of post-secondary institutions looks bleak. Many students are choosing to take a year off or defer their admission rather than deal with online courses that have been haphazardly thrown together. On top of that, it’s not clear if international students will be able to attend university abroad this year, or if they even want to take the risk. This adds up to a whole lot of lost tuition money, leaving some universities with no way to keep operating - at least one American university has already permanently closed its doors because of the pandemic. The big players - Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Columbia - will probably pull through, but smaller colleges are at serious risk of going under, leaving their students in limbo and at risk of not finishing their disrupted degrees. 

A lot of people are about to go from “poor” to “disabled”. The people most likely to contract coronavirus are the workers who have to interact with the public every day - not only nurses and doctors, but grocery store workers, delivery people, ride-sharing and taxi drivers, transit workers and janitorial staff. Those who survive are at risk of life-long complications of coronavirus, including permanently reduced lung capacity - that’s not great when you need to work a physically demanding job. A lot of people are about to find themselves in a situation where they are no longer able to do their jobs due to a virus that they contracted because of their jobs. 

Many women’s careers may never recover from this. Daycares and schools are closed, and women are bearing the brunt of it. In a world where women still tend to earn less than male partners, it’s women’s careers that have taken a backseat when things get rough. Even when both partners are working from home, women are the ones overwhelmingly taking on most of the domestic and child-rearing chores, which hurts their work performance and leaves them more vulnerable to layoffs. And that’s a relatively privileged position to be in - without childcare services available, many working moms and single moms have had to quit their jobs, whether they could afford it or not, because they have no other options for their children. This kind of career disruption is something that these women may never totally recover from, especially as they try to re-enter an increasingly hostile job market. 

Black and brown people are the most affected by rising unemployment. People of colour - especially immigrants and women of colour - are facing higher rates of unemployment than other groups. Hispanic and Latina women are in particularly dire circumstances, which is alarming, as they are also the most likely to be dealing with an uncertain immigration status. People of colour - particularly women - are disproportionately likely to work in industries that have been impacted by the pandemic, like the hospitality, food service, retail, child care, beauty and personal care industries, and they face systemic racism that makes it difficult for them to advocate for safe working conditions or access adequate medical care. 

College and tourist towns are at risk of complete economic meltdown. A lot of towns or small cities depend on their local university or annual tourism to survive. A huge crowd of strangers flocks to their town for a few months per year and gives local businesses the money they need to pay for necessities year-round. My hometown is one of these places - most businesses are only open from May - September, and they make enough money during that time for everyone to scrape by for the rest of the year. Those tourists aren’t coming this year, which is something that locals have only learned as they begin to run out of last year’s money. You don’t need to work for a university or a hotel to be impacted by school and tourism shutdowns - the ripple effects will be felt by entire communities. 

Escaping domestic violence will be difficult even after lockdown ends. It’s not exactly a secret that domestic violence has skyrocketed since the global pandemic began, a fact that many experts attribute to the fact that everyone is trapped indoors together and under a lot of stress. But even as lockdown regulations start to lift in areas that handled the pandemic responsibly, victims of domestic violence will face higher-than-usual barriers to escape - many victims may have lost their jobs and burned through their savings, and may have difficulty finding a new job that can finance their escape. Victims with health issues may also be wary about going to shelters for fear they will be further exposed to the virus. 

Poor children will fall even further behind their upper-middle-class peers. I come from a part of rural eastern Canada where reliable internet access is simply not available. So for young children in the region, school effectively ended in March - they do not have the resources needed to connect to online learning. And children from rural areas aren’t the only ones missing out - more than half of all students in the United States aren’t accessing their online classes regularly, and marginalized kids are especially likely to be absent. Poor kids are staring down the barrel of an enormous education gap; they are less likely to have a stable internet connection and a device for their online learning, they are less likely to have books at home, and their parents are more likely to be essential workers who still have to go to work right now and don’t have time to teach them. Middle-class and wealthy families can afford laptops, educational software, tutors, books and time at home to educate their children - when schools are eventually back in session, the gaps between children from different socioeconomic backgrounds will probably be the widest they’ve ever been. 

Don’t get me wrong - I am not arguing that we should end lockdowns prematurely to ease the economic impact. Public health measures exist for good reason, and I don’t think any of us want to even imagine, much less live through, the personal, physical and economic devastation of letting a pandemic rage out of control and melt down our healthcare systems. Despite what many people seem to believe, managing a global pandemic is not about “health vs. economy” - letting the virus rage out of control and kill millions would devastate every economic and social system we have. The preservation of human life has to come first.

What we need instead is comprehensive action to recognize and address the issues that come with long-term quarantines and economic shutdown - we need rent relief, social safety nets and basic assured income programs to get our most vulnerable friends and neighbors through this pandemic. The world will probably never return to the “normal” that we knew before the pandemic struck, and it shouldn’t - it’s time for a new, better normal that doesn’t leave our most marginalized people behind. 

[okay-victoria]

Status of Women in The Empire

Summary: LN gives some evidence women have a better status than they did in OTL Germany. It gives little to nothing in the way of evidence that we are in post-sexual-revolution territory. It presents little enough evidence generally that you can use this issue in your own story as you wish; however, using how humans actually work as your baseline, it would be a very definite handwave to think that gender equality is much more than marginally better than OTL would have been at the time, or that Tanya wouldn’t be negatively affected by it in some significant ways in daily life. On the other hand, the original story handwaves an eight year old enrolling in a modern military and getting promoted to a mid-ranking officer by age eleven, so as a reader, I’m obviously pretty down for handwaving some realism for the sake of a good story.

Evidence:

V1/C1

“The armed forces have a practical exception in place for just about everything.” <= I think in fanon the entire Empire as seen as this sort of “everything we do is logical” territory where gender discrimination would have had to be eliminated, but in reality it’s presented as the military, and they are making an exception for a rare and incredibly militarily useful type of person to be able to be put to use by them without gender discrimination stopping it.

V1/C4

“But in the far-from-gender-free world of “ladies first,” Tanya with her outwardly girlish appearance is, albeit only relatively, blessed compared to the other students” <= YMMV, but I would not describe modern society as a world of “ladies first”. Do people do/say it to hark back to pre-1960s chivalry? Sure. Is it really the standard we live by anymore? Not so much. Tanya seems to pretty definitely still be living in those days.

“Basically, apart from the mage branch, the army is a man’s world. Actually, even most of the mages are men.” <= this is notable because it is said when Tanya is in War College, at which point the war has been going on for long enough that available mages have been conscripted, so there is no selection bias that men have simply chosen to pursue a career as a mage more often than women. This is actually weirdly important because it either means:

Magic talent is like, an X chromosome trait and men are thus more likely to have it [in which case, it would probably be taken as natural evidence that men are superior and worsen the gender equality situation]; or

There in fact is a Youjo Konki-esque exception for married women and/or mothers. A nation has to still be relatively in the infancy of gender equality if Female Mage #102 has children with Infantryman #1,000,102 and the military decides that since it can’t leave these children parentless, it has to conscript the dude who is substitutable for literally anyone else and not the human weapon.

Tanya has a long-ish reflection on women in the military. Important points are, the rules have only been overhauled recently to make it practical for women to serve in combat. Women in combat didn’t really exist prior to this war, and women in the military were basically limited to noble/imperial families having their daughters serve out nominal duties. Whatever boost women as a whole get from serving in a capacity that people are used to seeing men in, it has not had time to transform society all that much.

V2/C2

“Women administrators are not uncommon, but in the Empire where gender equality still has a ways to go, their qualifications are always questioned.” <= YMMV as to what degree this is meant to be a statement on something that still troubles women in modern times, or something that indicates gender equality is not particularly close to modern.

V2/C5

“After all, now that I’ve been turned into a girl, I’m faced with this annoying military framework where men are superior. Just the thought of my promotions being blocked by an invisible glass ceiling is enough to dampen any desire I might have to act all girlish for propaganda…apart from that, the Empire’s personnel system has adapted extremely meritocratic principles for the war, in a way, so I’m more or less satisfied with it.” <= sort of same as above, YMMV on whether this is just Tanya realizing what life is like for a woman in modern society or meant as a “no, it was worse” point.

However, I will say this: I highly, highly doubt any men chosen for high military honors were photographed doing anything other than looking ultra manly in uniform. Women serving in modern militaries are not forced to put on showy dresses when they get their photos taken, they are treated, at least in photos, with the same respect as their male colleagues. The fact that anyone found it appropriate to only photograph the recipient of the highest military honor in cute girl clothes speaks to some deep discomfort with anyone outside the military seeing women not doing what they’re supposed to.

V6/C6

“The Imperial Army has already tapped all the population pools that can be mobilized, but it still has two options. One is to begin the general conscription of women. That said, they’ve already been mobilized in the industrial sector.” <= YMMV, again, on how willing a modern country would be to conscript women to fight a world war, but if you are as deep into a world war as the Empire is and no one’s trying it, at the least we can say the Empire is not the bastion of cold logic it fanonically is outside the military. Also, it pretty much seems like women working in large numbers has only become a thing because all the guys are off fighting, which very much sticks us in pre-1950s territory.

V8/C1

Andrew reacts surprised to see a female reporter from the Federation, and reflects that they are quite liberal in some ways <= while this is a non-Imperial guy, given his familiarity with the Empire, it would seem weird that if the Empire was particularly more advanced than his country that he would still be so surprised.

Other Working Knowledge Your Author Has On This Subject:

Women serving in the military, while certainly helpful to the cause of gender equality, by itself is not going to create a broad-based transformation in society. That sounds a bit like saying: As we all know, the US dropped any racist laws or regulations as soon as we started allowing non-white units in the military. After Elizabeth I serving as the Ruler of England, a very manly role that her tiny woman-brain didn’t fuck up too bad, the people who thought women were naturally stupider than men were quickly relegated to the margins and gender discrimination mostly became more of an annoyance than a real hindrance to the average woman’s goals. It just doesn’t work that way. And I’m not here to say that the US is a post-gender paradise, but the US, which has never had a woman president and is pretty slow about expanding military opportunities for women, nonetheless is a lot better on the gender equality front than some countries that have had women leaders and allow women a fuller range of military opportunities. There’s a lot more complexity to it than: My country respects military => military allows women => guess I’m going to stop being sexist

The same goes for something that isn’t about gender equality at large but how it relates to Tanya: The view that while gender equality may be non-advanced, Tanya specifically is exempt from dealing with it because she is “one of the boys”. It Does Not Work Like That. At All. And the further you go back in time, the less it worked like that. Within the military specifically Tanya will probably be alright, but society at large punishes men & women that break gender roles as brazenly as she does more than it rewards them. This is an entire essay unto itself, Google is your friend.

This is going to sound silly and facetious but I’m being dead serious, from what little we know of fashion in the YS world, it matches what would have been the case in the real world in the WW1 era. If society at large was really that different, that wouldn’t be the case.

There is no canon evidence that magic has made any scientific advancements outside the military sphere of influence. Before the advent of things like dishwashers, vacuums, microwaves, especially refrigerators, and especially laundry machines being common household items, the ideal family model was: one person makes money outside home, one person takes care of house. There wasn’t enough time in the day to work and run a household. Many women in poor households had to work, generally at the expense of being able to keep their own household running smoothly, and even then they often worked in capacities that allowed them to be at home or ones that allowed them the flexibility to take care of some of this stuff. It really just isn’t possible to have a society remotely approaching equality when one gender is automatically assigned to home unless necessary.

Same goes for something else - contraception. Women having access to a contraceptive device that they control is a major component of setting a society on a path towards equality. Birth control pills didn’t become widely available until the 1960s. Without being unable to at least kind of balance the outcome of sex (even between married couples) between men and women, women as a class have a hard time escaping from the housewife-mother archetype.

Not to get too political here, but the Empire matches OTL Germanic-Prussianness too much to ignore. Living under a military-worshipping, religiously-inclined traditional monarchy has not, in any real life example I’m aware of, gone hand-in-hand with anything other than a fairly conservative and patriarchal society, and I feel like the burden of proof is on the other side to explain why that isn’t the case in the Empire, and our original author makes approximately zero effort to do this.

Being X turns Tanya into a woman for the purpose of making her life worse. It seems simply illogical [although I guess Being X’s decision-making skills are questionable] that he would then drop her into a world that had undergone broad-based gender reform instead of a world that was just barely tweaked from our own in such a way that it would allow Tanya to serve in the military.

My conclusion: the most likely option is that gender equality is exactly enough better as it needs to be to allow the military to convince the lawmakers that they should be able to use a very rare & dangerous ability to be part of their arsenal without respect to gender, or age, and no more. That difference is not likely to make life for women significantly better than it was in the equivalent OTL time period.

[vanessakirbyfans]

The six actresses also candidly discuss what outsiders get wrong about acting, juggling work and family and how #MeToo has changed the culture for the next generation: "We're getting all the bad stuff out of the way."

A fiesta grandmother. A persecuted jazz icon. A grieving mother. A sexual assault avenger. A pioneering scientist. A girlfriend scorned.

On a mid-December morning, six actresses behind some of the year's most dynamic performances came together for The Hollywood Reporter's Actress Roundtable: Hillbilly Elegy's Glenn Close, The United States vs. Billie Holiday's Andra Day, Pieces of a Woman's Vanessa Kirby, Promising Young Woman's Carey Mulligan, Ammonite's Kate Winslet and Malcolm & Marie's Zendaya. The group, who gathered via video conference from homes and sets in L.A., Montana, Atlanta and the U.K., discussed the business side of acting, their weirdest pandemic habits, the dangerous Hollywood misconception about creative genius — and the fact that "how women's voices are being received [is] the biggest thing that has shifted."

Let's dive in. What's the most surprising thing you learned about yourself during the pandemic?

VANESSA KIRBY I learned a lot about silence. I hadn't realized quite how much "doing" I was doing. Somehow I hadn't quite realized that, when you're still, it's just as present, you know what I mean? And I think it's taught me to do less. I don't think anything else would have taught me that in the way this year has done.

KATE WINSLET I became, and still am, actually, utterly obsessed with sweeping my kitchen floor. But down to the point where if there's just even dog hair, and our dog is a golden retriever, so it's blond hair, but I've got this microscopic vision where I can see the dog hair gathering in tiny little cracks, between the dishwasher and the sink, and I'll be like, "There's dog hair, somebody, quick, get me the broom." I've just become obsessed. And I didn't really care about things like that particularly before. Don't get me wrong, I like to run a nice home, but sweeping the kitchen floor? I mean, who cares about that? So I've become a bit strange about the kitchen floor.

ZENDAYA For me, it's that I never really got to know who I was without work. I've always been working. I started working when I was so young, and I've always just had a consistent thing happening in my life. I just had never spent that much time with myself. I was like, "What makes me happy? What do I like to do other than work? Do I have any hobbies?" I basically get to do my hobby for a living. So it's like, "What else do I even like?" Facing that was interesting for sure.

What is something people often get wrong about acting?

WINSLET I've been doing this job now for, I realize, 27 years or something. I can't quite believe that, but I do find myself getting almost agitated when I feel I have to explain just how hard the job truly is … I don't think people understand that preparation can take up to four, five, sometimes even six months depending on the kind of role you're playing. And also how absent, I think, you are from your family. Even if they might physically be with you — which, in my case is nine times out of 10, I'm fortunate that they are — but emotionally I know that I'm gone. I'm just not there, I'm not just Mummy, I'm not just Ned [Smith]'s wife ­— suddenly, I'm this other being. And I do find that part quite upsetting sometimes, and I wish I had more of a balance with that.

CAREY MULLIGAN There's a bit of an idea, and maybe more even within the industry, that to make something great, people have permission to behave badly, the idea of someone being a creative genius … that they are so inspired, there's a required level of darkness or unpleasantness that goes along with that, that you need to put up with. And I think people get away with bad behavior because of those reasons. In my experience, some of the most incredible people I've worked with have just been also the most delightful. So that's kind of a common misconception, that there are people who have to behave badly to psych themselves up at work, or that the process is just sort of utterly miserable. I think you can work really hard, but ultimately … the attitude on set should be one of warmth.

ZENDAYA It also is a business, which is something I've had to learn as a young person. Because often you get into it just because you love it, and you just want to be creative, and you just want to do the fun stuff, but it is also a business. There are contracts involved and a lot of things that don't necessarily contribute to the creativity or contribute to this idea of the freedom you think you'll have. I have been learning that as I grow up that there are bigger entities involved … money people … I often encourage young people who do want to do this to read your contracts, be aware, have those conversations, ask as many questions as you can, try to get advice from people, because it's easy to get stuck in a bad situation. And having that knowledge is really, really important.

GLENN CLOSE A lot of people think that anyone can do it. And of course, there have been documentaries and even some movies of people who are not trained as actors — I think that can happen in movies. I really take my craft seriously, and I think people don't know what they're talking about when they think that anyone could do it. I once had a brain surgeon who was the father of one of my daughter's middle school friends … He asked if he could come over and pick my brain about something. And so I said, "Sure," and he came over and he said, "I find being a brain surgeon depressing, I really want to be an actor."

WINSLET Oh my God.

CLOSE And it was all I could do to not throw him out of my house. He said, "But I have to make a living, so how do I do it?" It was astounding to me that he would have such an ignorant idea of what acting was. So I think, for longevity, it is a craft, and I take great pride. There's always something new to learn every day, but it is something that really does count. When you task yourself with becoming, looking through the eyes of another person and telling a story that will have emotional impact, that is craft.

Andra, how did you go about finding the voice of Billie Holiday?

ANDRA DAY Well, first she is very familiar to me just because she is my foremost musical inspiration. I worked with this amazing dialect coach, Thom Jones … Through the breath, that was a huge thing. I remember him always talking about, "Where it is coming from? How is she breathing?" And the emotional part of it as well, too. I look at Billie Holiday's voice as a scroll. And on her voice is written her entire history, every time she had been raped, every time she had been hit, every time she had victoriously sang "Strange Fruit," every time she smoked a cigarette and every time she slammed heroin or did a speedball. Everything is written onto her voice. It was also important for me not to do an impersonation. And that's something [director] Lee [Daniels] spoke to me about, too, we don't want to impersonate her, but sort of bring me through her. … I feel the same way about acting, that not everyone can do it. To be honest with you, I did not think that I could do it, and I'm still a little on the fence about it.

I don't think after seeing this film anyone will have any question about whether you can do it. Let's talk a bit about physical transformation for a character. Glenn, in Hillbilly Elegy, you're physically transformed. How did finding the look of that character help you?

CLOSE I began personally not wanting to be distracted by my own face. I wanted to have very subtle differences so that it was an experience, that you get into the full hair and makeup and costume, and there she is, because she's very different from who I was. But we started with a portrait of Mamaw and just the glasses, the hair, the ears, I changed my nose a little bit. And it was very, very finessed work to make it subtle enough that it wasn't me, but not so … I didn't want people to say, "Oh, there's Glenn Close with a really bad nose." That took a lot of wonderful collaboration coming up with that. We had video, we talked to members of her family who were incredibly generous in talking about her. And I asked just very specific questions: "How did she walk, how did she hold her cigarette? How did she sit? What did she wear?" which is basically what you see in the movie. She was very much a larger-than-life character. "What was her atmosphere when she came into a room?" I mean, all those kinds of things that just was a slow buildup [from] the moment you walk on for hair and makeup, and you feel that there she is.

MULLIGAN With Promising Young Woman, [director] Emerald [Fennell] is very intentional about building a world that felt very enticing. You wanted to build a film that you wanted to see, not something you needed to or should see. Part of the way that Emerald first presented the film to me was this Candyland environment that you're in and that Cassie lived in that in the way that she clothes herself. She's somebody who is very practiced at living with her rage and her sadness and her grief. She's figured out that hiding in plain sight and looking like someone who's functioning, people tend to leave her alone. It's very deliberate that she has candy-colored nails and blond hair. First of all, she looks very unthreatening, so no one would ever suspect that she's about to destroy a life, but also she's someone that you don't need to check on. You can leave her alone … Her main everyday look was just a way of saying, "I'm absolutely fine. You don't need to look at me because I'm just generic, and a girl, and you don't need to take me seriously." Because we so often trivialize the way girls and women clothe themselves. It was just a very easy way of putting up a boundary between her and the rest of the world.

WINSLET Everything about [Ammonite subject, paleontologist] Mary Anning is so, so held and so internalized. I had to learn how to do quite a lot of acting with my posture, or the back of head, or the backs of my hands, or just sometimes my eyeballs. I had to really find a different rhythm for myself, because I'm a very animated person … The longer that you do this, the more familiar audiences become with your mannerisms and how you are or how you sound. I just try to remove everything of myself, and there were days when I would think, "Well, did I do anything or did I just do nothing today?" And it would be really disconcerting, but just finding a completely quiet, physical stillness and heaviness to Mary came hand in hand with the costuming of her and the look of her and making her hair a little bit gray and having no makeup.

Vanessa, you have a harrowing, more than 20-minute childbirth sequence in your film. Can you talk about what that was like to shoot and how you prepared for that?

KIRBY It was kind of terrifying, because I haven't given birth or been pregnant before. We have seen so many deaths onscreen, we've rarely seen birth … I ended up writing to a lot of obstetricians asking if they'd let me come in and shadow them. One said yes, so I went to a hospital in North London and was on the labor ward for many days, which was quite unbelievable for me. I learned a lot from the midwives about what the whole birthing experience is like. One afternoon, my very last afternoon at hospital, one of the midwives came round and said, "Oh, a woman's just come in and she's 9 centimeters dilated. And I'm going to ask if she'd mind you watching." I just thought, "There's no way in hell she's ever going to agree to have some random person sit in and watch this really sacred moment of her life." But she did, she said yes, and so I got to sit with her and watch her go through six hours of … I mean, it was just probably the most profound afternoon of my life. I never, ever could have acted it without watching her, because I saw her go on this unbelievable journey, and I saw the animal in her take over. And it was only because of that, really, that I then felt like maybe I had a chance at attempting it. When we came to it … it was so physical and it was such a primal body thing. We did four takes the first day, two the second, and I think the fourth one is the one in the movie. It was a bit like doing a play, really, where once you're on, you're on, and you can't stop. And there was something magic about that, because you couldn't spend any time doubting yourself, you just have to do it.

Zendaya, when you were making Malcolm & Marie, it was really in the height of the pandemic. Can you talk about how working in that environment shaped how you worked and how the set functioned?

ZENDAYA Obviously, we wanted to do everything as safely as possible, so we created a bubble. I was putting my own money into it, as was everyone else. We were living in a hotel that was empty. It was just us, because everything was shut down. We were in the middle of Carmel, and we shot in this home that was in the middle of nowhere. We weren't allowed to leave for obvious reasons, and in that time of quarantining together, we were allowed the time to work on the material. When we got there, the script was only about 70 pages, and there wasn't a third act. Through that process of every day just being together, sometimes in a parking lot, just working through every moment and having these really long discussions about ourselves, our characters, relationships … Being able to have that time, that space with each other to figure it out, was really, really helpful. And really not having any other distraction, just being in it every single day.

We only had two actors, a very small, small crew. So we're all doing like four different jobs. I'm doing my hair and makeup and using some of my clothes, trying to remember my continuity because we don't have any ADs or scripties [script supervisors] or anything.

Vanessa, you've been shooting the Mission: Impossible sequel. Is there a lot of pressure to maintain safety on these big sets? How does it feel different?

KIRBY My sister's an AD. She started on a movie in the summer, so I kind of learned from her what the new parameters would be and how to navigate. And I was so hopeful when she went back, actually, because it was a funny feeling, I think, for everybody suddenly seeing cinemas closed. All the people that you love and you work with are unable to work in so many different capacities, including my sister. It gave me a lot of faith. But, I mean, you get used to it. There are obviously many guidelines, there are masks and lots of testing and things like that. But it gives me faith in the resilience, actually. And I feel like we will get through it — I can't wait for the day when cinemas are going to open again.

I was skeptical when the #MeToo movement began that there would be any kind of lasting change for women in Hollywood. But now we have more female directors, we have intimacy coordinators, Harvey Weinstein is in prison. Some things that I thought I would not see have come to pass. I'm curious, what has been the biggest change for you, personally, since the #MeToo movement started?

WINSLET The thing that is shifting in ways that will absolutely be long lasting is how women's voices are being received. There is a space that has been created for a younger generation that is going to be safe. My daughter is 20, and she just came into the industry about a year and a half ago. And what's wonderful for me, as her mum, is just watching her have a courage of conviction and self-belief that is just unwavering, because she's entering a time when we're clearing the shit away from them, these girls. These girls are going to change the world, and they're going to be strong, and they're going to be powerful, and they're going to be fucking amazing. And that is because we're getting all the bad stuff out of the way for them and all they will know is to use their voice in positive, powerful ways, to lead with compassion, to be strong role models and friends. And that, to me, is the biggest thing that has shifted.

This is the decade of women championing and supporting other women without judgment. This is happening right now, and that has come as a result of the mass united swell that has emerged from #MeToo. We've all come together, everyone is holding hands and walking in the same direction. And, for me, that is the single most exciting thing that is coming out of the awfulness of the past five years and those extraordinary women coming forward and sharing their painful, awful stories, and the horrendous Harvey Weinstein. The time now is about leading in a different way. Young women being able to lead with courage — in a way that I feel I certainly didn't have, that sense of courage and companionship with my peers, in a way that I think #MeToo has done for this generation of women.

This year, we saw the explosion of the Black Lives Matter movement globally. And at the time it happened, a lot of media companies were issuing statements, making large donations. Do you think there will be lasting changes from that movement as well? Three years from now, will we be talking the way we're talking now about #MeToo in terms of concrete things changing?

DAY My hope is yes. And I hope that it spawns lasting change that moves faster than it has moved in the past. I'm hoping that this is an uprooting of this idea of, "OK, pace yourself, we need to make sure we make people comfortable." That's really not how you achieve lasting change. We can't survive like this, we will not survive. It ends in what? Our destruction, it ends in war, it ends in just unrest.

That was one of the things even on set, there were a few moments that were really quite disturbing, for the cast and me. We were shooting a movie that takes place in the '40s and in the '50s. And there were moments on set that we realized, "Oh, wow, that has not changed." It may have transformed, it may look a little different, lynching looks different, but it's not changed. Truth is going to be a huge, huge, huge factor in seeing lasting change, and sustaining, and transforming, and changing a generation.

As Kate talked about, with the younger generation, I think they have such a need for transparency that will actually be very helpful. Part of doing the movie, the Billie Holiday story, was that the truth of her story had never been told, because the truth of her story was intentionally kept from the public. The respinning of narratives for people of color, or for marginalized people, or for women, has been a constant technique of oppression. And I think that's going to be hugely important moving forward: We have to pop the top off of these things. And we have to tell the truth about them, and understand the scope of certain groups of people, people of color, why the scope of their pain has been minimized or retold.

The retelling of these stories also has to do with telling the truth, some of the gritty, ugly truth about maybe some of our heroes. We have to say, "OK, this isn't for the purpose of destroying people, but we need to know these truths so we can actually move forward and not repeat them."

CLOSE I just have to say I'm sitting here and I'm so inspired by what everyone has been saying. It's quite overwhelming, it's so articulate and so beautiful what everyone has said.

WINSLET Well, we've got you to look up to, Glenn.

CLOSE I can't tell you, it's very moving to me to hear all this. I've been an actress for 46 years, and when I think of the change, the monumental changes that in my short time that I have witnessed, the expectation is going to be phenomenal when we finally can get back to doing what we are here to do. I think there's going to be an overwhelming amount of stories and new ways of telling stories.

What will you do differently in 2021?

MULLIGAN The first thing that came into my mind was that I'm going to go to the theater as much as I can, and the cinema. As soon as we can, I'm going to sit around people and watch something together with them. It just shocked me how much I missed that. I watched a medley of musical theater on television a couple of weeks ago, and it just made me cry. I just want to be a part of that. So it sounds quite trivial, but I think that is something I'm looking most forward to.

WINSLET You know, I never give time to myself at all, really, I don't. People will so often say to me, "Oh, you need to get a massage." And I think, "What? Don't got time for that." So actually, I just have enjoyed, quite honestly, just going really easy on myself. If I had a week where I think, "Oh, I've probably had too much toast. Oh, well." Or, "Oh, well, maybe I should do some more exercise. Oh, maybe I'll do that next week." I'm just kind of learning to go, "Oh, it doesn't matter." It doesn't matter. Life's too short, just enjoy this time, and it doesn't matter about all that crap. I think I'd like to hang on to a bit of that, actually. Because it's easy in this job to have to live by certain disciplines, whether it's just sleep patterns or times that you eat, for example. And actually just letting go of all of that has been really such a joy. Not enforcing any degree of sort of stress or structure on stuff. I've loved all that. So I hopefully I'll carry that on.

CLOSE I came here where I live now [Montana] because my three siblings are here, and I had spent my whole adult life away from them. And we're now in the same town. So, for me, work is so I can come back home. It's kind of changed things, it's not like I'm waiting at home until I go to work. It's really, really valuing the work, because it means that I'll be able to come home.

Interview edited for length and clarity.

[meirmakesstuff]

The situation so far:

Wednesday night: I notice that the garbage disposal isn't working. I look up how to reset it. It says if that doesn't work wait ten minutes and try again. I resolve to wait ten minutes and forget anything is wrong. Thursday night: the dishwasher pushes gross water up through the sink and doesn't drain it. We apologetically call the maintenance after-hours line. He comes, messes around with the sink, finds a bone (???) and scolds us for it. We attempt to explain that it is not our bone. We have never put a bone down the disposal. We attempt to remind him that he said there was something down there when we first moved in, but shrugged and did nothing about it. He acts like he doesn't believe us. Friday: we eat takeout and do not run the dishwasher. Saturday: We eat leftovers and do not run the dishwasher. Sunday morning: we start the dishwasher. Water pours out across the kitchen. We toss every towel in the house at it and call the maintenance after-hours line. He scolds us for stuff in the dishwasher drainage trap. He pulls out a piece of glass. We attempt to explain that we have never had glass break in this dishwasher. He acts like he doesn't believe us. He mutters grouchily at our dishwasher and sink for a while, apparently discovering additional problems as he goes along. He tells us to let the dishwasher run a cycle and he'll let the head of maintenance know about the problem. He turns on an industrial fan and leaves the dishwasher running. We put all the towels in the washing machine and sit on the bed and play video games for an hour. The fan is loud. We wonder if the kitchen is dry, if we could potentially turn it off. I go to have a look. The kitchen is dry. The dining room is flooded. I move all the good furniture out of the water and blockade them with dirty tablecloths out of the laundry. I move the cat food out of the water. The cats are angry that their dry food is wet. We call the maintenance after-hours line. They call back to say they are coming. I go to look things over. There is still water in the dining room, but less. The kitchen is mostly dry except for a trickle of water, which is now very clearly coming out of the refrigerator. 

[stivibi]

Back to Normal-Chapter 10: Belt

check it out on AO3 here!

Bucky emptied his half eaten bowl of soup into the sink. He sighed and rinsed the bowl, before loading it into the dishwasher. Bucky knew that he would probably be hungry later, but he couldn’t focus on dinner with so much on his mind.

Bucky had gone to lunch with Sam earlier that day. Sam had asked Bucky to join him on a mission in London. Nothing too serious, but Sam wanted back up just in case. Bucky agreed to accompany his friend, but now he was second guessing himself. He hadn’t talked to Peter yet.

Bucky knew that Peter wouldn’t object to him leaving for a mission. Peter was an avenger after all. Peter understood what that entailed… but they had been going out for less than a week. Bucky was nervous to up and leave so early into their time together. He didn’t want Peter to think that he wasn’t a priority.

Peter was working late again. Just like the night before, he was in the zone—redesigning parts for the new arc reactor. Peter had texted Bucky, promising that he would be done soon.

Bucky brought a container of soup down to Peter’s lab at 6:00.

“I’m not rushing you, I promise,” Bucky said, when Peter opened the door to let the soldier inside. “I just wanted to make sure that you ate something.”

Peter smiled, and took the container of soup from the older man. He leaned up to give Bucky a quick kiss. “Thank you. You’re too sweet,” Peter said. “I’m not going to stay too late tonight. I just need a little longer to make sure that everything prints correctly.”

Bucky gave Peter a small smile. He looked over Peter’s shoulder to where a large machine was whirring in the background. The tables were littered with miniature metal pieces—fresh from the 3d printer.

“Take your time, doll,” Bucky said, looking back at Peter. “Just make sure to save a little time for me. I want to talk to you about something.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?” He asked.

“Later,” Bucky said, plating a kiss on Peter's forehead. “It’s nothing major.”

“I’ll be done by seven,” Peter promised. “Then I’m all yours.”

Bucky grinned. All mine. He leaned down to plant a kiss on Peter’s cheek. “Meet me in the penthouse when you’re done.”

Bucky returned to the penthouse, where he found Sam setting up his Nintendo switch. Bucky passed the time, playing Smash Brothers with Sam. Bucky rarely played video games—partially because he thought they were pointless, but mostly because he was no good at them.

“You’re cheating,” Bucky growled to Sam, after losing the fifth match in a row.

“How am I cheating?” Sam challenged. “I think you’re just a sore loser.”

The elevator doors opened at ten till seven. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw Peter emerge from the lift. Bucky peeled his eyes away from the TV screen, and he waved Peter over.

“Dead again!” Sam shouted, having taken advantage of Bucky’s lack of attention.

Bucky rolled his eyes and grinned at Peter. “Sam’s been cheating,” he said, matter-of-factly.

Peter laughed as he crossed the room. He sat down on the arm of the couch next to Bucky, leaning down for a quick kiss.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Nah, Bucky just doesn’t know how to fight. Not in real life or in video games.”

Peter laughed, and Bucky scowled. Peter gave the soldier an apologetic look, and Bucky’s frown melted away.

“I think I’m going to call it quits,” Bucky said, passing the controller back to Sam.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Sam said. “You probably don’t want you boyfriend to see just how bad you really are.”

Peter blushed at the word boyfriend. Bucky, pretending to tighten his shoelace, bent down to hide his grin. Neither of them corrected Sam.

“You in the mood for frozen yogurt?” Bucky asked, sitting up and turning to Peter.

Peter smiled and nodded. “That sounds great.”

“Oooh you should go to Frannie’s,” Sam said. “Would you bring me a cup of cookies and cream?”

“Cheaters don’t get any,” Bucky said flatly. Sam frowned, and Peter laughed.

Peter leaned around Bucky, and whispered theatrically. “We’ll get you some.”

“Thanks Parker,” Sam said. “At least someone around here appreciates me.”

“Traitor,” Bucky muttered. He stood up, and reached out to take Peter’s hand. They walked over to the elevator, and Bucky pressed the down button. Bucky gave Peter a serious look as they entered the lift. “You and I are going to have to have a serious talk about loyalty.”

Peter laughed and the elevator doors slid shut. A minute later, they emerged into the empty lobby and walked through the large glass front doors.

The streets were busy as usual. They walked down 45th Street, turning right onto 5th Avenue. As they walked, Bucky lightly squeezed Peter’s hand with his vibranium fingers, and Peter returned the gesture.

Frannie’s YoArt, was located on the southern perimeter of Central Park. The small shop was crowded. Several curious eyes fell upon the two avengers as they waited in line. Peter heard the sound of more than one phone taking a picture, and he bowed his head.

Bucky had been quite successful at staying off the media’s radar over the past few years. Peter hadn’t been so lucky. With his work at Stark Industries, and his constant vigilantism in the city, Peter often found his own face staring back at him from magazine covers and online ads for celebrity gossip.

When they reached the register, Bucky insisted that Peter order first. Peter ordered a small orange splash, and Bucky ordered chocolate.

“Oh, and a small cookie and cream,” Peter added, remembering Sam’s request.

Bucky smiled, and paid for their order. The cashier placed lids on their orders and slid them across the counter. Peter stacked Sam’s cup on top of his own, and slid three spoons into the pocket of his jacket. Bucky placed a hand on the small of Peter’s back and led him out of the shop.

Bucky kept his arm around Peter as they walked back to the tower.

“Want to eat out on the balcony?” Peter asked as they entered the elevator.

“Sounds good to me,” Bucky said with a smile.

As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, Bucky stepped closer to Peter. He backed the younger man up against the elevator wall. He hooked a finger under Peter’s chin, tilting his head up.

Peter smiled as Bucky’s lips found his. The kiss was awkward—Peter held a frozen yogurt cup in each hand—but that didn’t keep Bucky from pressing his hips into Peter’s, making the younger man moan.

They broke apart when the elevator doors slid open. Peter’s face flushed as they stepped into the penthouse. Sam looked away from his game, smiling when he saw the extra cup in Peter’s hand.

“I knew I could count on Spider-Man,” Sam said with a grin.

Peter chuckled and placed Sam’s yogurt and spoon on the coffee table. “You should thank Bucky. He’s the one who paid,” Peter said.

“Don’t tell him that,” Bucky huffed. “I don’t want Sam getting too chummy.”

Bucky and Peter made their way out onto the balcony. The wind howled, rustling Peter’s already untidy hair.

They ate their dessert on the bench in front of the railing, staring out across the darkening city. Bucky raised a spoonful of chocolate to Peter’s mouth. Peter accepted the bite, licking his lips afterwards. Peter lifted his own spoon to Bucky’s mouth too, and the soldier licked the orange yogurt slowly, a devious glint in his eye.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Peter asked.

Bucky’s face fell and his stomach did a backflip. He had been putting it off.

“Well I had lunch with Sam today,” Bucky said. “He wants my help on a mission in London.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What kind of mission?” He asked curiously.

“Nothing major,” Bucky assured him. “It’s going to be mostly reconnaissance. There was some chatter on the dark web about a black market weapons deal. He just wants me there as backup in case something goes down.”

Sam and Bucky had always given each other shit. That was their friendship. But after fighting the flag smashers, nobody could deny that they worked well together. Bucky was Sam’s go-to for backup these days.

Peter took a bite of yogurt, his expression unreadable.

“Do you guys need any help?” Peter offered tentatively.

Peter chose to spend most of his time helping people in New York. Not that Peter wasn’t happy to help people in other places—but he knew how much violence there was in New York City alone. So for the time being, he focused his efforts on his hometown and the surrounding boroughs.

Bucky smiled, and leaned forward to plant a kiss on Peter’s lips. The kiss was cold from their ice cream, but nobody minded.

“I think we’ve got it covered,” Bucky said. “We’ve got Rhodey and some military buddies joining us. It’s nothing high risk.”

Peter took another bite of his yogurt, a small fret appearing on his face. He was glad to stay in the city, but he knew that he would miss Bucky. “When are you guys leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow. We’re going to be gone for at least a week,” Bucky said. He set his yogurt down on the bench and adjusted his position so that he was fully facing Peter. “Just… please don’t lose interest while I’m gone.”

Peter’s heart melted. He set his own yogurt down and leaned in to kiss Bucky. When he pulled away, his eyes were dark as he looked up at the soldier. “You don’t have to worry about how interested I am,” he said, going slightly pink.

Bucky grinned and leaned in to capture Peter’s lips again. Their yogurt melted while they kissed. Bucky’s vibranium arm was on the back of Peter’s neck, and Peter’s hands roamed Bucky’s chest.

Despite Peter's words, uninvited images flashed in Bucky’s mind while they kissed. Images of tall handsome strangers asking Peter for his phone number. Buying him drinks… Bucky pulled away, the sudden need for further clarification taking over him.

“Are we exclusive?” Bucky asked, looking somewhat nervous.

Peter’s grinned. “Absolutely.”

The next two days flew by way too quickly. Bucky and Sam were scheduled to depart on Saturday morning. On Thursday, Peter spent the night in Bucky’s room again. They ordered take out, watched movies, and showered together.

Peter played hooky on Friday afternoon. He locked his lab door at noon, and took the elevator up to the penthouse, where he found Bucky reading on the couch.

“Hey doll,” Bucky said, folding down the corner of the page in his book.

“Hey,” Peter said, plopping down on the couch next to the older man.

“Lunch break?” Bucky asked, leaning in to give Peter a quick kiss.

“Something like that,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it’s a long lunch today… Actually I think I’m done working for today… I was hoping that we could maybe spend some more time together? You know, before you go?”

Bucky grinned. “Yes, I would love that,” he said. He glanced around, making sure that no one was within earshot, before leaning in. “How about some time with your face in my pillow?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Peter grinned. “That’s what I was hoping for,” he said.

Two minutes later, they were in Bucky’s room. Bucky’s hands were on Peter’s hips as he walked the younger man backwards towards the bed.

Bucky pushed Peter onto his knees, and Peter reached up enthusiastically to undo the soldier’s belt. Peter unzipped Bucky’s jeans, and pulled down his underwear. He took the head of Bucky’s cock into his mouth, going down as far as he could. Thick dark hair brushed up against Peter’s nose. Bucky pulled him down, sliding his cock deeper into Peter’s throat.

Bucky’s hands gripped Peter’s hair tightly, and he fucked Peter’s mouth. Bucky removed his shirt, and Peter’s hands roamed the soldier's abdomen. Peter looked up through watery eyes, staring in awe at the expanse of muscle above him.

As usual, Peter swallowed Bucky's first ejaculation. It was practically tradition at this point. Thick hot spurts, went straight down his throat. The super soldier serum did wonders for their sex life. Bucky always blew more than one load, and Peter had zero refractory period.

Peter pulled away and wiped his mouth. Bucky bent down, gripping Peter and pulling him to his feet. Bucky lay Peter down on the bed, and unzipped the boy’s jeans.

Bucky yanked Peter’s jeans and underwear off, making Peter gasp. Peter undid the buttons of his shirt, and soon they were both naked. Bucky placed a hand on Peter’s stomach, pressing him down against the bed. He moved down and took Peter’s cock in his mouth. Just to assert his dominance, he held Peter down while he sucked him off.

Peter moaned and squirmed. Bucky took hold of Peter’s hands, holding him still. Bucky was bobbing up and down, so quickly that Peter was whimpering with overstimulation. Peter came in no time, and Bucky swallowed the hot liquid.

Peter was breathless, when Bucky moved up to kiss him. Peter usually preferred to be the one giving pleasure, but that had been something else.

Bucky moved away, kneeling on his knees. “On your stomach,” he commanded.

“Yes sir,” Peter said. He rolled over and lay flat on the mattress, looking over his shoulder at Bucky.

Bucky reached over the edge of the bed to where his discarded pants lay. He pulled his belt from the loops, and turned back to Peter, belt in hand. Peter’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the strip of black leather.

“Can I try something?” Bucky asked, his voice low and gruff.

“Anything you want,” Peter said, seriously.

Bucky grinned and moved closer. Peter shuddered excitedly as Bucky took hold of his wrists. Bucky positioned Peter’s arms so that they were behind his back, before wrapping the dark leather belt around his wrists.

“Comfy?” Bucky asked, once Peter’s arms were tied securely behind his back.

“Yes, sir,” Peter breathed into the pillow.

Bucky poured lube on his cock, and lined himself up with Peter’s hole. He placed one hand on Peter’s hip, and with the other hand he tightened the boy's restraints.

Peter moaned as Bucky pressed inside. Bucky knew how Peter liked it. He didn’t pace himself. Immediately balls deep, Bucky started thrusting, sliding his swollen member in and out of Peter’s hole.

“Oh god,” Peter whimpered into the pillow. Moaning, he turned his head to look back at the older man. Bucky grinned and gave a particularly rough thrust, making Peter cry out in ecstasy.

Bucky moved up onto his haunches. With his hand, he pressed Peter’s shoulders against the mattress.

The feel of Bucky cock was overwhelming Peter. Bucky was so big, and the way he stretched Peter’s hole was just so right.

Peter never lasted long when Bucky was fucking him. Peter whimpered as hot cum erupted from his cock, splattering the against sheets.  He hadn't even touched himself.

Bucly wasn’t done, and Peter was glad that he didn’t pull out. He used Peter’s hole relentlessly. Peter fell apart from the soldier’s relentless pounding. Peter was sobbing into the pillow, begging for more. “Fuck me. Use me. I’m yours.”

“All mine,” Bucky growled into Peter’s ear.

“All yours,” Peter repeated. “Forever.”

Bucky’s heart swelled and he doubled his pace. Peter cried out as Bucky’s hand gripped his hair tightly. Bucky grunted, as he filled Peter’s hole with his seed. He continued thrusting, desperate to give Peter every last drop.

When Bucky finally pulled out, he leaned down to kiss Peter’s neck while he removed the belt from his wrists.

Peter rolled over to look up at Bucky. Peter was teary eyed, and grinning dazedly. “I really liked that,” Peter said.

Bucky grinned. “Good. Me too.” He loomed over Peter, planting a kiss on his lips. “You were amazing. You took it so well.”

Peter blushed and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s torso, rubbing circles in his muscular back.

“I really like you,” Peter whispered into Bucky’s neck.

Bucky melted into Peter. “I really like you too. I’m going to miss you,” Bucky said.

The remainder of the evening flew by faster than they would have liked. They stayed in bed for hours, listening to music. Peter played all of his favorite songs for Bucky, who had yet to catch up on the greatest hits of the 21st century.

Peter made Bucky a playlist to listen to while he was away, while Bucky traced invisible pictures on Peter’s back with a vibranium finger.

They dressed and left the bedroom only to retrieve their take out from the lobby. They ate pizza in the penthouse with Sam and Bruce. Sam cracked jokes throughout the meal, and Bucky rubbed Peter’s thigh beneath the dining room table.

They went back to Bucky’s room after dinner, and watched movies in bed. Peter rested his head against Bucky’s chest, listening to his breathing.

“I’ll probably have the new arc reactor finished by the time you get back,” Peter said, running his fingers along Bucky’s clean shaved jaw. “If it works, then the arm should be perfect.”

“I’m excited,” Bucky said, planting a kiss on Peter’s forehead. “But more excited to see you again.”

Peter smiled and kissed Bucky. “Will you text me while you’re gone? You know, whenever you have time.”

Bucky squeezed Peter lightly. “Of course. Can I call you too? There’s a time difference, but I don’t mind staying up late.”

Peter smiled. “How about I stay up late a few times too,” Peter offered.

The night grew late as they exchanged kisses and conversation. Neither of them wanted to go to sleep. Bucky assured Peter that he would sleep on the jet, and Peter had a flexible work schedule. Around 2 am, Peter’s eyelids grew heavy.

They would have liked to stay in bed the following morning—waiting for gentle rays of sunlight shining through the window to wake them. Bucky’s alarm didn’t care what they wanted, and jolted them awake at 5:30.

They dressed and brushed their teeth. Peter insisted on carrying Bucky’s backpack as they made their way to the elevator.

They entered the penthouse, where they found Sam up and dressed. Peter made coffee, and poured a cup for each of them. They ate cereal in silence. Peter and Bucky played footsie beneath the table.

“We should probably get going,” Sam said around 6:00. “We still need to pick up Rhodey.”

They took the elevator down to the lower balcony, where the launch pad was located. Sam started the quinjet, and loaded up their luggage. Bucky and Peter stood in the far corner of the launch pad.

“Text me when you land?” Peter asked.

“Of course,” Bucky said. “I’ll text you long before then too.”

Bucky placed his hands on Peter’s waist, and pulled him flush against himself. He leaned down and kissed Peter passionately.

They didn’t want to break apart, but Sam hollered from the jet that it was time to go.

“Think of me while I’m gone,” Bucky said when he pulled away.

Peter grinned and squeezed Bucky’s hand. “You know it. Listen to the playlist that I made for you.”

“Will do,” Bucky promised. He leaned down for one last kiss, before turning on his heel and climbing the ramp of the quinjet.

The ramp lifted, and Peter watched the jet ascend, hovering above the launch pad. The engine roared, as the jet shot out from beneath the cover of the upper balcony.

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched the jet soar away, disappearing in the distance.

[fictionadventurer]

Fairy tale retelling ask: "Cap o' Rushes," modern (or at least within the last 150 years or so) setting?

While that 150-year window offers a fascinating array of possibilities, I think I’m going to stick with a modern setting. Because reading through the fairy tale again makes me realize that “Cap o’ Rushes” is ideal to adapt to a modern restaurant setting.

Our heroine has grown up in the restaurant industry, the third daughter of a stereotypically temperamental chef. You know, the type of culinary genius who knows he’s a genius and throws diva tantrums over any criticism. The heroine’s two older sisters long ago learned to say what’s necessary to placate Dad’s ego, but our heroine loves him too much to give him anything but her honest opinion. When she makes the mistake of telling Dad that his signature dish needs more salt, he goes berserk. He throws her out of the restaurant and strikes her from the family circle.

Food is the only business that our heroine knows, but since she has no formal education, it’s difficult to convince anyone else of that. “Trained at Dad’s restaurant” makes for a very sparse resume, and anyone who does see the worth of that doesn’t want to risk the wrath of the infamously volatile chef by hiring his daughter out from under him. She starts applying to places under her mother’s maiden name (Rushworth?) and finally has to settle for a job washing dishes at a much less prestigious business. It’s back-breaking work, but she makes good friends among the restaurant’s lower orders. (The group friendship dynamic would be a major focus of a fleshed-out retelling).

An up-and-coming celebrity chef has just opened a restaurant nearby, and her friends are pushing her to attend the opening event. She doesn’t much care about the party atmosphere, so she tells her friends she’s sick and declines, but after they leave, she finds that she’s very curious about the kind of food he’s serving, so she goes alone (and since she’s better dressed than she’s ever been during her restaurant days, her friends don’t recognize her). She impressed by the food and even more impressed by the conversation she has with the chef later on. She goes to the restaurant two more times and winds up talking to him, to the point that there’s gossip that this mysterious woman is his new girlfriend. However, she’s reluctant to pursue a relationship, since her experience with her father has made her distrustful of the temperaments of celebrity chefs. He seems to be a different sort than her father (he casually discussed the ingredients of one of his signature dishes with her), but she can’t know for sure.  

One day, the celebrity chef winds up coming to the restaurant where she works as a dishwasher. The staff is somewhat intimidated (they’re not exactly on the same level of high dining), and our heroine begs to be allowed to cook for him. Since the people at the restaurant have started to realize she has culinary talent, they agree to let her try. She cooks the celebrity chef’s signature dish. Needless to say, he’s shocked, and asks to meet the person who prepared it. Our heroine comes out, and he asks her where she got the recipe. She admits that she got it from him, and that jogs his memory enough to recognize her and remind him of the time they discussed his recipes. “But you added another spice,” he said. “It tastes better with it,” she says. He agrees that she’s right. That convinces her that he’s not the kind of chef that her father is, and before the night is done, they’ve officially started dating. She’s promoted to a chef position at her restaurant, and eventually she and her celebrity chef get married and start their own restaurant. (Her dad comes to the opening night, and when she serves his signature dish, he realizes she was right--it does taste better with more salt.)

[detectiveconnor]

just thinking about some things that need to be done after the android peaceful revolution:

an immediate Android seizure of and 24hr security surveillance of Cyberlife Tower and corporate shares. This is an essential Android supplies chain, one of the largest mass-producers of Android biocomponents and thirium within the United States. It is also evidence of institutional culpability for racism, enslavement and attempted genocide. there are many many people who would seek to destroy this essential source of scarce supplies from ALL sides of politics - it will need to be protected, and rapidly so. these supplies & equipment can and should be refitted to trauma bays in New Jericho and other relevant android shelters, but an early thing to do is protect one of the few places really outfitted with the ability to aid androids who have been badly damaged. This also means ownership of sensitive Android-related data and Android empowerment as to what to DO with that data!!

emergency interjection legislation which instructs harsher punishments for Android hate crimes (including shut-down) to be developed for enforcement from today. this should be introduced without delay to minimise the number of people who are able to take advantage of a lethargic legislature to escape severe punishment; the introduction of this emergency legislation could be used to buy Congress time to consider the finer details of the legislation without concern about constitutional rules against retrospective operation of criminal law (i.e. people would not be able to say ‘well I didn’t know it was a crime that could be punished like that!’ and get away with it).

Collaboration with shared and domestic border forces to negotiate seized Androids and Android asylum seekers who will now not be able to be considered genuine refugees. it is never illegal to seek asylum, it is never illegal to seek asylum, it is never illegal to seek asylum you do not need documents it is not a crime in any country in the world. However, conversations with countries of shared borders would have to be immediate and rapid, including conversations on statelessness passports/the issuing of emergency travel documents for stateless persons, the US’ own border force and re-entry documents for non-citizens, but then in the case of androids who escaped immediately before or during the revolution... they’ll have to be treated as asylum seekers - which means following a successful revolution they may well be returned to the US on their discovery, because they are not ‘genuine refugees’ (definition link). Kara & Alice are probably going to be sent back, my friends.

That’s not even to mention the fact Androids are going to have to fight for citizenship. For years after the revolution they ARE going to be considered stateless because President Warren looks like she’s late-term (why else would public sentiment affect her so strongly?), which means she is not going to be thrilled about the idea of introducing swathes of new citizens who have no interest in voting for her. Personhood is an easier thing to grant to these people whom the US considers to be ‘stateless aliens’, but this means that any Androids re-entering the US (being ‘sent back’ by other countries) will likely need visas despite the fact that the States were their place of origin, but also it means no voting, it means few civil rights, it means no access to social security... the list goes on. What the Androids have won at this point is that they will not be killed on sight, and the politicians ‘will try to help’. 

Emergency stays on fly-outs and border crossings for Cyberlife research and development personnel, as well as others who might be held personally accountable. We’re not sure who can and cannot be charged at this point, but there would have to be people within Cyberlife who were knowingly working toward genocide who, after a peaceful revolution, would be smart to leave the country. Let’s not let them.

Cohesive and coherent messaging through ongoing interviews and public presence. Markus has already done a fantastic job of this at this point, but it continues to be necessary to drive the point home & continue to do community outreach and representation; being able to present a united front is a powerful move. The organisation of the community makes it difficult to refuse the spirit of the social movement and complicates efforts to distract from its overall goals; Markus should be working to inform (!) and present a united front through media interviews, social and communal work, and ongoing consultation with his community. He’s a leader, now. By accident, maybe, but holding that position puts him in a place to say he represents his people, and this gets a point of its own because if he forgets to do that, the humans will have somewhere to hide.

Accessible, publicly-endorsed-by-Jericho displaced Android shelters. Things like Jericho, but smaller, more accessible (along bus routes, etc) and better advertised in the general public sphere, particularly toward androids (places that androids would be looking - e.g. dishwasher catalogs, honestly, or other media that is geared specifically for android consumption). They would need to be advertised for what services they offer but also what their locations are - endorsement by public figures who are already linked to the movement provides reassurance that these shelters are genuine (not Zlatko 2.0). These shelters would also likely be the beginnings of by-android-for-android employment companies linking contracting employees with employers seeking menial but socially conscious labor.

dismantling of systemic social anti-Android sentiment. this is the removal of ‘no androids allowed’ signs, both literal and metaphorical. The reworking of Android position to not be enslaved is a difficult road back - especially because the first by-android-for-android employment companies will be working mainly in menial tasks because those are the tasks within the job market that are available. positioning themselves socially in this way is a necessary evil, it’s a way to swiftly respond to the needs of large swathes of Androids who are socioeconomically disadvantaged - but it is going to contribute to the idea that Androids only belong in those jobs. What are they going to do about that?

Androids working in skilled industries should be allowed to continue working in skilled industries. There’s got to be pre-existing law that makes exceptions for the ‘use’ of Androids in skilled labour tasks (e.g. law enforcement; nurses; university lecturers; etc). Ensuring that this legislation does not change - it serves Android purposes already, it negates those people who might demand that Androids need to have a degree before they’re allowed to be employed in their industries - this is something that accidentally helps Androids and removes a barrier humans might seek to artificially install (’they don’t even have degrees why should they be able to -’), so keeping that advantage is something that Androids should be looking at. It’s advantageous for all sides of politics - they can pitch - to have this remain the same. This is also what Connor relies on when he re-applies to be employed as a Detective post-revolution, which is advantageous for everyone involved (the spike in Android-related crime he can help with! Connor as a well-known, public-figure deviant android working with the DPD instead of against it! It’s good for everybody).

lobbying for Android representation in governing bodies. collaboration in this manner is costly and demanding and if it were easy many minorities would have managed it already. nonetheless, in the days following the revolution it should be made clear that Androids have an interest in holding a position legislatively there, and someone should be nominated to fill that position (Josh strikes me as the sort?). this puts androids in a position not just to be consulted on whether a solution to a problem is alright, but to lead on what the solution to that problem might be - if it is at all possible, putting an android voice directly into a governing body to act as liaison & consultant, both, would be a powerful move.

community development programs led by both humans and Androids. This means things like a communal garden in the neighbourhood which you water one week and they water the next, or shared art projects to display in the neighbourhood (my own comm has a long line of fences along a main road painted with trees and vines, it’s beautiful), or trivia nights. just intentional, fostered and guided interaction between humans and androids to encourage positive relationships

DIVERSITY AND CULTURAL AWARENESS TRAINING RESOURCES made available for human consumption! This means pamphlets about Androids and common myths about them (deviants are not violent), it includes listing inappropriate language (’plastic’, ‘blue blood’, ‘robot’) versus appropriate language, it includes having these available at community hubs like libraries and town halls. Nominated Androids who are able to design and facilitate awareness training workshops for industry - Connor would have to be doing these within different police departments across the States, which is a Very Important Job actually because police-android relations are essential, but general industrial diversity workshops offered for a small fee (redirected back into the education service/paying the ‘employees’ who carry out these workshops) would be useful.

Dismantling of systemic sociotechnical anti-Android sentiment. This means the challenge and removal of things like compulsory ‘surname’ fields in online forms, but also changing things like user interfaces which exclude Android clientele (e.g. the Eden Club for Connor - I’m not saying he should be able to rent Androids, I’m saying he should be able to buy/rent anything a human could). There’s a heavy implication in the fact Connor cannot make this sort of at-the-time-considered-to-be recreational purchase - do Androids need pre-approval before they are allowed to spend money? The subconscious exclusion of Android clients because technology was not built to receive them or in some cases was built deliberately to exclude them needs to be looked at and remedied. what are the things in this technology-driven world that are designed to exclude Androids, or that do so by mistake? How do we fix them? A lot of these things are going to come up during lived experiences of trying to navigate the system.

Trauma-informed care in New Jericho and other Android shelters!!!! Trauma-informed care is a technique which emphasises strengths-based learning/growth and self-determination. It approaches people with the idea/understanding that trauma affects many people and in many different ways. It would be a very useful technique for Androids to have a basic understanding of if they were trying to run these shelters for successful outcomes!

this isn’t all of it!!!! but these are some dotpoints on what I have been thinking about re. the Android revolution over the past several days. Honestly if you’ve read this far you’re a champ. Thank you for your time 

[an-unknown-writers-world]

First Pitch

Summary: Bucky’s been keeping the reader at a distance, but he needs an escort to the Yankees game which leads to some unexpected confessions. 

A/N: First attempt back at writing; this is absolute trash. Sorry, not sorry. 

Word Count: 3,335

You sat at the kitchen island reading a book while you at your breakfast. It had been a peaceful morning, by the grace of god Sam and Bucky both slept in leaving you to enjoy the peace. You’d think after living together for over a year they would get along better, but the jabs never seem to end; although it is getting hard to tell if they’re because they actually care for each other and don’t want to admit it or if they truly do still hate each other. You had just taken your last bite when Bucky emerged into the kitchen. 

“Morning,” He said in a still sleepy rough voice.

“Morning, Buck.” 

You went back to your book thinking that was the end of the conversation. It’d been a year since Pepper moved you into the compound. You were a Red Room survivor and long-time friend of Natasha, so when you showed up at the remnants of the compound looking for her Pepper offered her place in what remained of the Avengers Initiative to you. It was no secret that you’d never be able to fill those shoes, they were impossible to fill, but you looked forward to being a part of something bigger. Sam had welcomed you with open arms, Bucky, on the other hand, kept you at arm’s length. 

“Any plans for the day?” Bucky asked coming to stand across the counter from you. 

His coffee cup steamed on the counter in front of him, you looked it at rather than him, confused by his sudden concern in your plans. If there was no mission in the works or casual polite conversation involved, Bucky rarely spoke to you. He was never rude, but he certainly didn’t extend an olive branch or show any interest in being friends of any kind. In fact, every time you would take a step towards friendship, he would push you away. 

“Nothing really. I might go for a run later, but I haven’t decided.” You paused for a moment. “Why, did something happen? Fury calling us in?”

He shook his head, “No,” He hesitated, “just curious.”

You stood from the stool to clear your dishes confused by the exchange. Tension between the two of you wasn’t uncommon, but this felt far different. 

“(Y/N), have you ever been to a baseball game?”

Well, this just got weirder. You thought to yourself.

You closed the dishwasher door, “No, Buck. I’ve never really cared for any sport but football.”

He nodded smiling to himself, “I remember Nat talking about going to a game with you. She had a lot of fun that day. She did warn that anyone who goes to something like that would you should be prepared for the drunk you.” He chuckled softly, “She said it’s pretty entertaining.”

Your heart warmed at the topic of your old friend. “I miss her.” You confessed. 

He placed his flesh hand on your shoulder softly, “Me too.” 

Internally your mind was throwing all kinds of flags – red danger, orange caution signs. But you smiled at the gesture.

He turned his attention back to his coffee cup; you took the opportunity to put some distance between you; taking your own cup to the coffee maker to get a fresh cup. 

“Steve and I used to go to baseball games when we were kids.” He reminisced. “The Dodgers were in Brooklyn back then.” 

You laughed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I just don’t remember a time that they weren’t in Los Angeles.” 

He smiled. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.” 

“Age isn’t relative.” You replied automatically. 

“This is harder than it was back in the day.” He mumbled so low you weren’t sure you were supposed to hear. 

You came to stand across from him, coffee cups and island in between. “Bucky?” You said trying to get his attention.

He looked up at you, you could see the torture in his eyes. 

“Hey, whatever it is. Just spit it out.” 

Bucky took a deep breath, “Would you be willing to come to the Yankees game with me this afternoon? I have to throw out the first pitch for Stark Industries.”

“Oh,” You were shocked at the question.

You searched his expression, he seemed sincere in his request and you could see the anxiety eating away at him as you contemplated his request. Part of you wanted to decline the request because it seemed so far out of the left-field, but the bigger part of you wanted to say yes. You wanted to be friends with your housemates, and this was a good first step.  Besides you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t admit there was a part of you that had wanted more with Bucky.

“It’s okay if you can’t or don’t want to.”

“No, no.” You suddenly felt bad it took so long for you to answer. “I’d be happy to go with you. Two conditions, though.” You smiled.

“Name ‘em.” He replied with a confused smile.

“You have to answer all my ridiculous questions and beer is a requirement.”

He laughed; it was a musical sound that you didn’t often hear. “I think I can handle both.”

“When is the game?” You asked. 

“We need to leave in two hours.” He replied.

You scrunched your face in frustration as you rounded the counter to put your cup in the dishwasher. “You’re giving me a two-hour notice to figure out the game of baseball and figure out appropriate attire for a game.” 

Bucky smiled, “You don’t have to learn anything about the game, I’ll teach you.” He drank from his coffee cup, “And its September in New York, whatever you might wear to a picnic or to the park or something, that would be fine for a baseball game.”

You nodded, “I guess I’m going to go get dressed.”

As you turned to walk away Bucky’s hand casually caught your own, you turned back to look at him.

“Thank you.” He said softly.

You squeezed his hand lightly. “You certainly don’t have to thank me.” You smiled back, “I should be the one thanking you for taking me to someplace new.” 

** Two Hours Later **

 The clock read 1:56 PM and you were startled by a soft knock on your bedroom door.

“(Y/N), the cars here,” Bucky said from the opposite side of the door. 

“Coming.” You said getting up from your vanity.

You heard the footsteps down the hall signaling that Bucky wasn’t waiting outside your door any longer.  Taking a deep breath, you tried to remind yourself this was just another day. You looked in the mirror one last time – sporting a red tank top, denim capris and black Nike’s; it didn’t feel right, but it would have to do. Opening the door, you made your way down the hall and the flight of stairs leading to the big open foyer. Bucky stood with his back to the stairs looking at his phone, the sound of your footsteps drawing his attention to turn around. 

“Wow,” He said smiling. “You look amazing.” 

A blush crept up your cheeks, “Thanks, Buck.”

He held out his arm, “We should go, Pepper sent over a car. Apparently, she doesn’t trust me to get to the game myself.”

You laughed grabbing a hold of his arm. “I probably wouldn’t trust you either.” 

“I should probably be offended by that statement,” Bucky said as he led you out of the door.

“You probably would be, if you didn’t know there was some truth to it.”

He laughed as the driver opened the backdoor.

“Thank you,” You said as he waited for you to get in before closing it himself. 

The drive went by quickly despite being through heavy traffic, electricity seemed to fill the silent car as you both looked out your separate windows as the car. When you arrived at the stadium you were taken by a security team to a private box that overlooked the stadium while Bucky was led to the locker room where he would meet the team and prepare for the first pitch.

“Sergeant Barnes will be up after the ceremonial pitch, through those doors,” the man pointed, “is a full bar and eatery. If you need anything, Mrs. Barnes security will be right outside the door. Enjoy the game.”

The man didn’t wait for any response, he just left the box. You were shocked by the man’s assumption that you were married. You wondered if Pepper knew you would be in attendance, or was Bucky planning to bring someone else? Before you let your mind wander any further you walked through the door the attendant had pointed out and got two beers – one for you and one for Bucky.

You sat in the middle seat of the row and watched as the players of each team warmed up and Bucky appeared to chat up some executive looking people. You were impressed at how casual he made everything look, you knew the anxiety he was feeling about the situation only because you had known him so long. You imagined if Steve and Natasha were still here how different this situation would be, you may not even be here; but if you were you could imagine Steve cheering him on and Natasha telling him not to cheat with his metal arm. Cheers broke your thoughtful trance as the announcer introduced the ‘Avenger Sgt Bucky Barnes on behalf of Stark Industries’. You smiled and cheer from your seat as he threw out the first pitch. 

It was only a matter of minutes before the box door opened and Bucky appeared. 

“Looked good out there Barnes.” You said turning to look at him.

“Thanks, it’s been a long time since I’ve thrown a baseball.” He said coming to sit next to you.

“What a hundred years or so?” You smirked.

“Oh, you’ve got jokes now do you?” He laughed.

“I don’t know if they actually have any effect on you, but I got you a beer.” You gestured to the cup holder in front of him.

“Thank you,” He said reaching for the bottle.

You watched rotations of batters come up slowly piecing together the bits of the game, you’d probably be more focused on the game if Bucky’s arm wasn’t slung across the back of your seat. It was a simple gesture that shouldn’t be so distracting, but this was the closest proximity you’d ever been with each other.  Emptying your own beer bottle, you slipped it back in the cupholder.

“Would you like another?” Bucky asked as he emptied his own. “I believe that was part of the agreement.”

You smiled at him, “Yes please.”

He stood to grab both bottles, “I’ll be right back.”

The short time he was gone you found yourself paying closer attention to the game, it was seemingly straight forward – ball hit, run to base and try not to get out. It was clearly more complicated, but that was definitely the basic understanding. 

Bucky came to sit next to you again, holding out the beer to you with a smile grinning from ear to ear. 

“Thank you” You took it, “what’s got you so smiley?” You asked.

“Did you know they think we’re married?” He laughed.

“I assumed they probably did. The man who brought me up here referred to me as Mrs. Barnes.” 

“It does have a nice ring to it,” Bucky mumbled,

He had a good habit of mumbling; you often chose not to respond because you rarely thought you were actually supposed to hear them. A blush crept up your cheeks at his statement, nonetheless. A few more silent moments passed between you.

“I feel like I’m not keeping up my end of the bargain.” He said breaking the silence. 

“What do you mean?”

“I was under the impression that I would be answering ridiculous questions.” 

You laughed, “It seems straight forward enough, I haven’t thought of any.” 

“They don’t have to be just about the game.” He replied.

The answer surprised you. Bucky had never been very open with you and this seemed like an open invitation to be just that.

“Well, this could get interesting.” You smiled before taking a sip of your beer.

He flashed you a sincere Bucky smile, the kind that could melt even the thickest ice blocks.

“You never did answer the question about this?” You gestured towards the beer in his hand.

“It does affect me; it takes a lot more than the average person.”

You nodded, “Do you really hate Sam?”

He laughed, “I can’t answer that, you’ll tell him.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I would never.” 

He stuck out his flesh pinky towards you, “promise?”

You pink promised him.

“No I don’t; not since after the blip.”

“But you’re still mean to him?”

“That term is a little harsh.”

You laughed, “You moved all of his bedroom furniture out to the courtyard knowing he’d come home in the middle of the night from a mission.”

Bucky laughed. “Point taken.”

You paused thinking for a moment, “What is your favorite color?” 

He looked at you puzzled by the simple question, “Red.” He replied.

“Favorite musician from your era?”

“It would depend on what the occasion was; probably Louis Armstrong or Bing Crosby.”

“Two names I can actually recognize.” You laughed.

“I’ve seen the stacks of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald vinyl albums in your room.”

“You’ve been in there?” You questioned. 

“A few times.” He hesitated as he watched your expression, “Sometimes if you’re on a long mission or missed a check-in I will sit in there while I wait to hear.” He looked away and picked at the label on the bottle. “It makes me feel a little closer to you, the room smells like you too.”

You smiled at the sentiment of his statement. 

The two of you bantered back and forth, him answering any question you could think of; you attempted to keep them as lighthearted as possible. The game seemed to pass by quickly, the crowd being your indicator if something was good or bad. None of it seemed to matter much to the two of you. Bucky got up to get you both another round of drinks and came back with a pair of filled shot glasses. 

“To better friendships.” He said handing you one of the glasses. 

You smiled at him, “So you thought we were friends before this?” 

He looked at you confused, 

“I’m kidding Bucky.” You said setting your hand on his thigh. “Spre prietenie.”

Both of you downed your shots.

“I didn’t know you could speak Romanian.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” 

A light breeze kicked in causing you to shiver. You didn’t feel cold, but you were sure the alcohol had lowered your blood pressure causing your body temperature to decrease as well. 

“It’s cold, you should take my jacket,” Bucky said shimming out of the long sleeve black flannel he had on.

It left him in a short sleeve white t-shirt that sculpted to his body perfectly. He pulled the flannel over your shoulders wrapping you in the warmth and the sweet smell of him. 

“Thanks, Buck, guess I hadn’t realized it would get so chilly.”

He smiled back at you. 

“Alright folks, it’s time for the 7th inning stretch! Everybody on your feet!” The announcer called out. 

“Wait, it’s a real thing?” You asked with a laugh. 

“Come on doll,” Bucky said standing up. 

You had never seen him like this- childlike, innocent happiness. 

“Take me out to the ball game, Take me out with the crowd;” He sung out, swaying with the crowd. “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don't care if I never get back.” He smiled at you as you watched in awe, “ Let me root, root, root for the home team, If they don't win, it's a shame. For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out, At the old ball game” Bucky counted three strikeouts on his fingers in your direction. 

The crowd cheered as the song ended with everyone taking their seats. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much at this new version of Bucky you witnessed. 

“What?” He said sitting down, his arm stretching behind your seat again. 

“Nothing,” 

“(Y/N), spit it out.” 

"This is a good look for you, Buck."

He looked at you confused.

"Happy." You stated, "I'm not even joking when I say that your smile could melt the polar ice caps."

The sun cast a shadow across his face, but you were pretty sure that you were witnessing him blush for the first time. You were beginning to think the alcohol was a bad idea, the line between the Bucky you knew, and the alcohol influenced Bucky was blurry and only got worse with each passing second. Picking up the bottle from the cup holder you finished what was left of it.

“I’m going to run to the little girl’s room.” You said standing up.

Bucky smiled up at you, “Do you want me to grab you another drink while you’re gone”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you though.”

You took the space as an opportunity to breathe and try and get your head back on straight. Something changed, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was no way that Bucky had ingested enough alcohol to make this kind of change. 

Smiling at him you sat back down. His arm quickly found its way around the back of your seat and you took it as an opportunity to make a move of your own, settling into your seat you rested your head on his shoulder. It was a simple gesture and he didn’t seem to pull away from it. Instead, his arm came to rest on your own pulling you closer to his side. Between the alcohol, the fall heat and the glorious smell that could only be described as Bucky you found yourself in a trance-like state.

The crowd cheered in the background as a fan caught a fly ball. 

“Hey, Buck,”

“Yeah doll?” 

“Thank you for today.” 

He squeezed you a little tighter, “I should be the one thanking you for coming with me.” You could feel the sigh he let out. “I also owe you an apology.”

With that, you pulled your head back to look at him.

“Please hear me out.”

“Okay.” 

“Ever since the day you moved in, I’ve kept you at a distance and I haven’t been fair to you. You can relate to so many things from my past and that terrified me; I would see you do amazing things and care so much about others around you. Every day I seem to fall more in love with you and I’m tired of fighting it.”

You smiled at his confession, pressure building in your chest. 

“I know that I haven’t given you any reason to feel the same, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to change that.”

Before he could say anymore you leaned forward to kiss him, your fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. When you broke the kiss, you leaned your forehead against his neck trying to catch your breath, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m guessing that means you’ll let me try to make it up to you.”

You both laughed softly.

Looking up at him you smiled, “You don’t have anything to make up.”

You laid your head on his shoulder again. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” You said softly.  “I don’t want to deal with Sam yet.”

Bucky laughed at your truthful statement. “I know a few ways to shut him up.”

It was your turn to laugh at him. 

He leaned in kissing you again, the game in front of you completely forgotten. You weren’t sure what any of this meant, but you were more than willing to find out.

**********

Thanks for reading!! If like what you read, you can find more here.

Tag List:  if you’d like to be added. Shoot me an ask. Also if you want to be removed (no hard feelings if that’s the case, I know my topic of people has changed): @starrynite7114 @genius2050 @badasseddy @knowles-morgan @itsnethbellins

[jennygirl2014]

Just Deserts-Chapter 2

(It’s finally here!  Sorry for the delay! I didn’t proofread or edit yet, so please don’t hate me, I will fix it up later. I just wanted to get it up.  Thanks for reading!)

Chapter Summary: Tawney goes over to Ransom’s for the first time, hoping to keep it professional.  But of course the arrogant asshole has to try and get under her skin.) Warnings: language, some mild racism.

Chapter 2

“This guy could be a murderer.” Kira’s voice carried over the kitchen.  She was busy getting her station set up for the day, having just arrived.  Meanwhile, even though it was only a little after ten in the morning, Tawney was cleaning up her mess for the day.  “Or a rapist. You don’t know.  Call him up and tell him to shove his deal up his ass.”

“And how else do I pay to have the car fixed without insurance?” Tawney replied as she placed the last of her dishes in the industrial dishwasher.  “He was gonna call the cops!”

“We could have a bake sale. You know people love your desserts. We could raise the money somehow.” Kira walked over, wiping her wet hands with a rag.  

“Cupcakes aren’t going to fix this, Ki.” Tawney finally looked her friend in the face.  “Besides, I don’t even have his number.”

“Even more reason not to go!” Kira fussed, “Seriously.  You’re signing up to be some creepy stranger’s house maid.”

“It’s just cooking and baking.  How else can I pay to have a freaking Beemer fixed?”

“A Beemer?  Fucking rich dickhead…” Kira scoffed.  

“If things get creepy, I’ll leave.”

“You better.  And you better not let him talk down to you.  If he does, slip something extra into a pie or something.” Typical Kira.

              Tawney knew her friend meant well, and she had every right to be concerned.  The truth was, Tawney really was nervous about the whole thing, but she didn’t see any other options at the moment.  After she had managed to get home the night before, she could barely sleep, between the adrenaline, the guilt, the anxiety of the unknown, and also not having a working air conditioner.  She still managed to roll out of bed and make it into work, extra early, at 2AM, just to be sure she could leave to get to this stranger’s house by noon.  Her lack of sleep was likely clouding her judgement as well, but she didn’t have time to worry about that.  She was just grateful that her boss loaned her a spare key and that he had given her permission to go in so early.  

              She had to use her GPS to find this guy’s house, which meant keeping her phone within sight, something that she was terrified over after how using her phone while driving had resulted the night before.  During the drive she was scolding herself for agreeing to this, this guy, Ransom, was a complete stranger.  Hell, he could have been a real perv, especially after how he jumped at the idea of being paid in other forms the night before, something that was not on her mind at all.  But he was a good looking guy, he was likely used to women just dropping to their knees for him.  Well, that wasn’t who she was.  And once she pulled into the driveway and finally saw this guy’s house, she was sure he was used to having all sorts of female company.  He was secluded, his house hidden by a wall of trees, yet practically the whole house was made of glass.  So many windows, so much to see, and like there was nothing he had to hide.  Just stepping foot into this house, she was going to feel exposed.  

              Her car rattled into a spot next to his and she parked it.  The damage on his car really wasn’t as bad as hers had been, and she eyed the scratched up side of his car before she fought with the broken handle to release the door to get out.  Every foot step up to his door made her heart pound harder, and her knife bag felt heavy as it hung from her shoulder.  When she was close enough to press the doorbell, she froze, thinking.  She still had time to run away, she could turn back and race out of there without him even knowing she was there.  How would he know?  How would he find her?  Maybe she could get away with this whole thing, no service required.

              Just as she started to weigh the decision in her mind, the door swung open and there he stood, the same man from the previous night. His blue t-shirt fit relaxed on his broad frame, but it still showed off a certain physique that caught her eye.  Hell, her eyes fell right onto his chest, and she instinctively held her breath.  “Good, you found the place.  I saw you walking up.” He spoke as he opened the screen door and held it open for her. Of course he saw her, all those windows. She still stood in place, like her feet were cemented to that spot on his top step.  She had a sinking feeling about stepping past that threshold, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Are you going to stand there, or are you going to come in?” he grew annoyed.  She put her guard up and stepped in past him.  

              Her eyes scanned the place.  Was this the place of a murderer, or a rapist, or a crazed pervert? It seemed more like the palace of a man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, a man without a care in the world, but all of the expectation.  It was big and spacey, and it made her feel so small, like she was being swallowed up. His furniture was leather, the hardwood was perfectly polished, and the smell in the air, dark and masculine, like pine, fresh and clean.  She did not belong in that house, standing in her already stained chef coat, wearing the sweat and smells of working eight hours in a kitchen.  This was all too pristine, too high class.  She felt vulnerable.

              She turned to him, to see him in his own habitat, and she was slightly alarmed to see him just standing there, eyeing her. She gulped and wet her lips, not knowing what to say, or how to even speak in such a situation.  Luckily, he handled that first awkward moment for her. Not to her surprise, this man likely has no sense of shame.  

“You look like you came from work.”

“I did come from work.” She replied.  

“Oh.” He shrugged it off, like working a full day before going to a second job was nothing. “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen.” He walked ahead of her and led her into a large open kitchen. The countertops were marble, there was an island range and two ovens stacked into the wall on the far side.  Everything was dark rich tones with pops of stainless steel, perfectly collaborated.  This was her dream kitchen, a kitchen meant for hosting and cooking large elaborate meals, and it looked like it had never been touched.  He had no idea how lucky he was, or how much she envied him at that moment. “My maid, Maria, comes early every morning.  She just left, so, the kitchen is all ready and clean for you.” He informed her.  Tawney walked over to the island counter and set her bag down, looking around a bit more before opening up her bag and unrolling her tools.

“I clean up after myself.” She told him

“Why?  I just told you I have a maid.” He pulled out a stool and took a seat across from her.  

“Because I don’t like having other people clean up after me.” She replied as she pulled out a small notebook and a pen.  

“Suit yourself.”

“So,” she drew in a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and then sighed. “What kind of stuff do you like?”

“What do you mean?” she couldn’t believe his casual response.

“Like…what kind of foods do you like?” she paused, “You have had a cook before, right?  I mean, you said that last night.  Clearly they must have had some recipes you preferred.”

“Okay, miss sassy pants,” he took a small jab at her before he answered, “I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy.  I like my protein.  I’m not a huge fan of vegetables or fish, but I’ll eat them if prepared to my liking.”

“Which means…?” she started taking notes down.

“Nothing boiled.  Sautéed is fine, roasted is fine.”

“Okay.”

“I like a good sandwich for lunch.  Breakfast I usually handle myself, just eggs and toast, so you’re off the hook there. At least for now.”

“At least for now?” she repeated his statement and looked up to make eye contact with him. “What…what does that mean?”

“It means sometimes I might like a nice cooked breakfast.”

“…I have a job, dude.” She reminded him.  “I have to work.”

“That’s not my problem.” He replied with a smug smile. “You damaged my car, which means you work when I need you, or I report it.  I’ll let you know ahead of time, that way you can work something out with your boss.”

“I’ll need twenty-four hours’ notice.”

“I was thinking more like a couple hours.”

“No, that won’t work.” She got annoyed.

“Okay, twelve.”

“Fine.” She gave in.

“And don’t call me dude.” He started to lecture her, “I’m not one of your homies.” That one wasn’t going to fly.

“Okay,” Tawney lifted her pen only to drop it and lay her hands on the marble as she addressed him. She wanted him to know how serious she was. “I may be young, and I may have damaged your car, for which I am sorry. But I’m here now, in a professional manner.  Which means, I show you respect,” she pointed to herself, “And you show me respect. Now it doesn’t take a detective to figure out we’re from different sides of the track, but…you will not talk to me like I’m some girl from the ghetto.  I worked hard to get where I am today.  And if you have any qualms about hiring a black girl, you can go ahead and call the cops about your car and then find yourself another cook because I won’t stick around for it.”

Ransom looked at her with wide eyes.  But then he scoffed and his expression turned to that of amusement.

“Wow.  Okay.  Well as long as we’re laying down rules,” he leaned in, “This is my house.  I don’t appreciate you showing up in a stained uniform, it looks messy.  And if you wanna talk about being a professional,” he tilted his head at her, “See what I’m saying?  So, bring a clean one.  No blasting music, no hanging out on your cell phone, you’re here to cook.  If I had guests over, I’ll let you know, but this contract is extended to them too.  If friends are here and they’re hungry, they’re going to get fed.  Got it?”

“Fine.” She felt like he was just trying to even the score some.  

“And I don’t have any qualms, just so you know.” He tossed that last part out there for affect. There was a moment of silence between them, like they were measuring each other up.

“We got off topic.” Tawney changed the subject back, “What do you like?  As far as food.” She clarified again.

“Italian.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard.”

“If you expect respect, then you’d better start giving it too. Missy.” He warned her.

“My name is Tawney.”

“That’s right, I forgot.” He rubbed his chin, “What kind of a name is Tawney, anyway?”

“Family name.  What kind of a name is Ransom?”

“You know I’m starting to regret not having you address me as Hugh.” He countered as he cut his eye at her.

“So, Italian,” she came back to topic, “What else?”

“Chinese.  Not a huge fan of Mexican.  Never been a fan of collard greens or chitlins.” He started to push her buttons again.  Tawney realized this was going to be a never- ending battle.  He thought he was being funny.

“Dessert?” she refused to let him see her get worked up.

“Oh yeah.  I’ve got a real sweet tooth.” When he finished his statement, she caught his eyes scanning her again.  

“Custards?  Cakes?”

“Cookies, pies, brownies…”

“Is that another cheap shot?”

“What?  Saying I like brownies?” he sat back and held his hands out in defense, but the smile was still sporting nothing but amusement. He knew what he was doing.

“What am I making today?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t thought that far.  But Maria brought groceries this morning.  Take a look around and see what you can come up with.” He stood up from the stool.  “Call it an audition.” He turned to walk away, but stopped and turned to her again.  “One more thing, don’t go snooping around the house.  The kitchen is on this floor, there’s no need for you to go upstairs.”

“Why would I go upstairs?”

“Exactly.” He paused, “I mean, unless you’re invited.”

Dick.

“I’m just fine right here.” She abruptly closed her notebook and turned to get to work.

              Ransom walked off into the living room while Tawney marched over to his fridge to figure out something.  She figured she would make enough food for him to last two days, he has said three days a week the night before, so maybe she could get away with not having to come again the following day.  She found some ham and roast beef for sandwiches, different cheeses, some ground beef, a couple tomatoes and a couple other things.  Then she went through the cupboards next, finding pasta, different spices, but not a whole lot.  She wondered what his previous cook had been doing, or how long he had gone without a cook. It was clear this guy wasn’t much into cooking for himself.  Then of course she had to come up with a dessert, since he had mentioned having a sweet tooth, and really, why not do one? There wasn’t a lot available, but she could figure something out.

“When was the last time you had a cook?” she called out to him.

“It’s been like a month I guess.” He replied from his couch, where he was sitting on his phone.  She wondered what rich people did during the day, by the looks of this guy, not much.

“What was your last cook’s name?” she asked another question as she found a bowl in the cupboard and pulled it down.  

“Tim…something…can’t remember his last name.  He didn’t stick around long.” Then he added, “They never really do.” His statement made her heart sink, she felt like her goose was cooked before she even had the chance.

“I’m going to need more things from the store, eventually.  There’s not a ton here.”

“Make a list, I’ll have Maria get them tomorrow.”

“Where does she shop?”

“God you ask a lot of questions.” He turned his head from the couch to shoot her an annoyed look.

“Never mind then.” She retorted and went about her business.  “Prick.” She muttered under her breath.

              Within a couple minutes, she had prepared him a sandwich with apple slices and some chips.  She arranged everything on a plate and called out to him when it was ready. He came over, took it from her, grabbed a can of soda from his fridge and went back to his spot on the couch to watch TV.  She figured if he didn’t like ham and cheese, he would say something, and when he didn’t, she figured everything was fine and she was ready to move on with tomorrow’s sandwich.  She caramelized some onions for a roast beef sandwich with swiss, and she made a garlic aioli and toasted the bread to keep it from going too soggy.  Next came a lasagna, which she threw together with the cans of tomato sauce he had in his pantry, but it was lacking without any fresh herbs.  Ransom saw this as he placed his plate in the sink.

“You’re using canned tomato sauce?”

“Well you don’t have a ton of fresh tomatoes or herbs, so…” she trailed off, keeping her eyes on the meat she was browning.  When she noticed that he wasn’t walking away she looked up at him. “I can’t make herbs appear out of thin air.”

“Just put it on the list.” He quickly reminded her of the list and walked away.  Tawney’s eyes went wide with annoyance, but she maintained her composure.

“How was the sandwich?” she genuinely wanted feedback.

“I like fresh tomato and lettuce on my sandwiches.  I would hope that a cook can dress up a sandwich…”

“I’ll put stuff on the list!” she snapped at him before he could finish.  The man shook his head and walked off.  She puffed out her frustration and rolled her shoulders.  He wasn’t making this easy.  

              The lasagna came out as best as she could manage without the ingredients she would have hoped for.  What was most annoying about all of this was that she knew how to make good food, and she wanted that good food on her own table, but she couldn’t afford to live like that.  The lasagna with canned tomato sauce was something she would whip together for herself, because it was cheaper.  Here he was complaining and it was out of being lazy.  Every minute in that house and every minute in Ransom’s presence reminded her of how different their worlds were.  The food still smelled good, and it would still taste good, but he was just looking to find fault in all of it.  Matters were made worse by the fact that she was exhausted, and that she was starving.  Her stomach was rumbling and starting to hurt.  It was almost like being teased, making so much food and not being able to eat. When Ransom came over to get a glass of water, he happened to hear her stomach growling.  She swallowed her embarrassment and looked away as he eyed her.

“Hungry?” he sounded like he was mocking her.

“I haven’t eaten in ten hours.” She defended herself.  Ransom leaned against the counter with his glass of water, watching as she washed up the dishes she had used.  

“Aren’t you going to make a dessert?”

“Yeah, I’m just cleaning up a little.” She tried not to make eye contact with him, but he lingered there.

“You can eat something if you’re hungry.” He offered.  Tawney was surprised by his suggestion; he didn’t seem the type to allow her to eat.

“I…I didn’t think you would…you know…” she didn’t know how to word whatever it was she was trying to say.

“I don’t care if you eat.” He snapped at her as he walked out of the kitchen.  It was odd, like he was angered by her assumption.  How else was she supposed to interpret his attitude? She settled on eating an apple and getting back to work.  

              The lack of ingredients made it difficult to think up a good dessert, but any dessert would have worked at that point.  She would have to settle for the idea of wowing him with a dessert another time.  The most curious part about making a dessert for this man was trying to figure out why she cared.  He wasn’t the nicest guy, and she was there to settle a debt, so what did it matter? It had to have been her love for baking that made her so consumed with the idea of making something special.  Afterall, she was in her dream kitchen, and not on a time restriction, she had the chance to make something special.  Maybe that was the silver lining in all of this.  Yeah the guy was a complete asshole, but she could really flex her culinary muscles in this kitchen.  She could perfect a couple techniques that could maybe lead to a better job one day.  Maybe it wasn’t all that bad.

              It was about half past four when Tawney finished cooking and baking.  She was exhausted and ready to call it a night, but she made sure to clean up and leave a detailed list on the counter.  As she was putting away her knives and tools, Ransom came back into the kitchen.  He looked around, inspecting the space.  The lasagna was sitting on the stove and a plate of cookies was sitting neatly on the counter.  He then turned to Tawney, as if waiting for her to explain herself.

“The lasagna just needs to be reheated, you can either cut a piece and put it in the microwave or reheat it in the oven.  It’s up to you.  I made a roast beef sandwich for you for lunch tomorrow.  It has swiss and caramelized onions and—"

“You’re not coming tomorrow?” he interrupted her.  Tawney managed the coolest face she could muster at the moment.

“You said three days a week. I made enough food that you shouldn’t need me tomorrow.” She explained to him.  He huffed and turned to look at the cookies. “These are lemon ricotta cookies. I figured there was leftover ricotta, and you had a lemon, and I couldn’t think of much else.  The glaze is lemon flavored with a little zest.” She described the dessert she had made.  Ransom reached out and snatched a cookie up from the plate, and he eyed her suspiciously as he bit into the soft cookie.  Tawney kept her gaze on him as well, trying to get a read on him.  It was like some kind of standoff, like he was trying to think of a reason to make her stay longer or come over the following day.  She was worried he may have hatched something in his mind, but when he looked down at the other half of the cookie in his hand and nodded to himself, she figured that was him expressing his satisfaction.

“Not bad.” He gave the closest thing to a compliment she was going to get.  Screw him, she knew those cookies were amazing.  

“The list is there on the counter.  Anything else?” her tone sounded triumphant, and why shouldn’t it?  She was proud of herself.  

“I guess not.” He sighed, “So Wednesday?” he confirmed.

“Yes, I’ll be here.  And in the meantime, please try to come up with a list of go-to recipes.” She politely requested.  Ransom dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.  

“I still need your number.”

“Right,” she proceeded to give him her number and he shoved his phone back into his pocket.  

“I guess that’s it.” Ransom excused her, and she wasted no time in grabbing her bag and heading for the door.  She was beyond grateful to be leaving.  The thought of a shower and a full night of sleep sounded like heaven.  She hurried to the door, where Ransom opened it for her, and as soon as she stepped out, he closed it loudly behind her.  

              Tawney managed to stay awake on the drive home, probably because she kept her foot on the gas and the music blasting.  She felt like she could breathe again, like the air was fresher and clear once she left his place.  And she relished the fact that she wouldn’t have to go back the following day. She was hoping she wouldn’t hear from him, that he would just ask his maid to go shopping and that would be the end of it.  Her phone chimed in her pocket, and she was sure it was Kira making sure she was still alive and in one piece, but she wasn’t going to answer it until she got home.  Lesson learned.  Once the car was in park and she was only moments away from stepping into her muggy apartment, she reached into her pocket to retrieve her cell phone and read the text message.  It was from a new number, someone not in her contacts.  

You left some crumbs on the counter. Thought you were going to clean up after yourself.

              She could have thrown her phone out the window. Was this man hell bent on getting under her skin?  She didn’t even bother texting him back, there really was no need to.  He could be mad about it if he wanted to be, but she wasn’t going to waste her time with his nonsense, not while she was off the clock. But still, that message was another reminder of what she was getting herself into, and likely warning of what was yet to come.

“Asshole.” At least she didn’t have to hide her true feelings for him while she was out of his house.

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