Tumgik
#fundraising mindset
jcsocialmarketing · 1 year
Text
Overcome Your Money Blocks to Raise More Money with Jarrett Ransom
Overcome Your Money Blocks to Raise More Money with Jarrett Ransom
Prosperity consciousness might sound woo-woo to some, but in this conversation with Jarrett Ransom, she shares how identifying your personal money blocks will help you excel as a professional fundraiser. Known as the Nonprofit Nerd, Jarrett has experience working in the trenches of the nonprofit community for nearly 20 years. From start-ups to multi-million dollar charitable organizations, she…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
nyctarian · 9 months
Text
fans of wrestler redacted having to hard pivot to claiming aew is as morally bad as anything wwe mcmahon bc their guy is willing to compromise his stated values if they will give him a job is so funny. like you cant be mad at people for believing aew is better morally than vince mcmahons big conservative fundraiser sponsored by mbs when your guy himself has made his reputation on making the point that wwe bad for nearly a decade now. their are bad people at aew too but it is not systemic to the entire company's existence at the highest levels the way it is in wwe.
also since people on twitter are trying to pretend he was a lone voice of trans rights and got forced out bc of that im also gonna note aew had a trans womens world champion when p*nk was still working for fox's wwe backstage.
#you cant send me anons on my blog bc i have had asks turned off for multiple years now die mad#personal#his elite beef was w a bernie bro a bisexual and two (yes christian) guys who support gay rights and dont support tr*mp like#sorry vince mcmahons still legally wed wife runs tr*mp fundraising#sorry that collision had nyla on once in the second ep for the owen and then literally never again#sorry that collision was the show made for c******e fans and it took ur guy being fired for a joshi wrestler to get on it#sorry ur guy praised zaslov before having to pivot to being the union guy bc kenny isnt online enough to have seen a video from a con lol#i believe he does try to be leftleaning but his overwhelming ideology is of the self not of the other sorry#what he was doing at the end those beliefs were only tshirt deep die mad#i could go further i like adding nuance and details to things but its pointless. i just hope the weirdos who harass people on here over#their favorite guy and who fail to realize that whatever shit they say on their blogs is the same shit twitter people are sayings#i hope they move on to something that actually brings them joy so that they dont need to harass people for having a different opinion#like sincerely if someone interacts w a post of mine or if i look at someones blog bc they posted a good wrestling thing#and i see a bunch of stuff i dont like for a wrestler i dont like#i just block and move on#i really hope they start doing that as someone who used to post on here a bunch several years ago about all the hatereading i would do#it genuinely is an unhealthy mindset and its something i had to work to grow out of i hope they do too
6 notes · View notes
art-the-f-up · 6 days
Text
Tumblr media
this is actually something I've been wanting to discuss in detail, and the mentality behind "Why are people suddenly so vocal about Palestine".
What I want to share is my own personal experience on this matter. I'm someone who used to try and stay neutral on these matters and try to only show support very shallowly. But it is true not just for me but MANY other people that us suddenly taking a side and becoming more vocal is all thanks to the zionists. They are the real motivators. or provocateurs is the right word I think.
All it took was for me to upload one story of a fundraiser for Gaza in the beginning and I was SWARMED with hate comments from zionists, some cussing at me and my entire family and other calling me a terrorist supporter. And I think stuff like this just flips a switch and makes you even more immersed in the territory of "what the fuck is actually going on?"
The more hate I received from zionists, the more it motivated me to dig deep, find out more, defend myself with more, and in turn stand up for Palestine more. Because it's not the Palestinians wishing the r word upon your family, it's you know exactly who. And it's not happened once or twice to blame it on a few people's mindset. It's every single pro palestinian person's experience. They've been threatened with r.
So it's kinda funny to me how zionists are MAD PISSED right now over the support for Palestine all over the world, but most of the time they were the one's responsible for making many influencers more vocal against them. They just keep digging a hole for themselves every time they swarm a post with disrespectful comments. You're just adding fuel to fire bro.
31 notes · View notes
tumbleweed-writes · 2 months
Text
Death and the Lady: Chapter Eight. Chibs Telford X Reader
PREVIOUS CHAPTER FOUND HERE
TAG LIST: @youngadult9016 @mrsfilipchibstelford @mamawiggers1980 @ravennaortiz @liveinsteadofdreaming @redwoodmaya
Chapter Eight: Be There
The annual Taste of Charming Festival was a yearly tradition in Charming. It had been going on for over ten years now. It was a fundraiser meant to raise money for the local school district. Local businesses and community services around town set up food stands and tables to sell crafts and other goods. There were performances by local bands, games and activities were set up for kids and families, and the big end of the night event was a fireworks show.
Overall, most of the residents of Charming found it to be a pleasant event where they could come together and even drum up sales for local businesses; all for a good cause of course. 
Y/N had never cared much for the event. Her father was always the one who insisted on attending every single year. He’d joked that it was a great opportunity to network with future clientele; as dark as the joke might have seemed. He had said it time and time again; make yourself a part of the community and you will make the town undertaker seem less frightening. He’d always told Y/N to be good to the residents of Charming and they will remember that kindness and turn to their family in times of loss.
He’d always been able to fit in with the community despite his career. He’d never allowed the locals to make him into an outcast. He’d been just fine making nice with the community. 
Y/N had never personally cared much for making nice with the community. In her opinion, the community had never quite embraced her with open arms. So, why would she care to be a part of the community? 
She was well aware of her fellow residents’ perception of her. They saw her as being disconcerting and strange. Her presence made them nervous and reminded them of their own mortality. Locals knew all about her crazy brother and her poor dead father and poor dead sweet mother. They knew about her wild streak with the MC and her sudden disappearance almost a decade before. The locals knew she was back and running the family business seemingly with a cleaned up act, but she could see that perfectly well that she was still not viewed as a welcome member of the community. 
Even as a grown woman, who put so much care into caring for the deceased of Charming ,Y/N knew she was still seen by the residents of Charming as an outsider. It wasn’t a new feeling for her. She’d felt like an outsider her entire life. 
She knew it was terribly anti-social of her; but this was not at all how she’d prefer to spend her Saturday. To be honest, she’d much rather be anywhere than here fraternizing with the locals. The idea of eating a corn dog and making polite small talk with every idiot in Charming didn’t exactly appeal to her. 
She knew of course that this mindset, that some would quickly call elitist, was born out of a sense that she’d never quite belonged with her peers. She'd been rejected by her peers more often than not.
She could at least admit that she had learned to never really put forward the effort to fit in, so she guessed one could argue she had no one to blame but herself. 
Even as a child she’d struggled to really fit in with her peers. She’d not really felt much of a desire to fit in to be perfectly honest. She’d always been more comfortable on her own. She had not really seen having friends as a necessity. 
She’d always much preferred the comfort of her home and all that came with it. Even as a child she would have much preferred to spend time in the home’s greenhouse growing tomatoes and onions, reading one of the many books her family had collected over the years, cooking new recipes, attempting to sneak a peek at her father’s work at the funeral home, or wandering the family pet cemetery. 
Her father had tried to curb her tendency to be a loner. He’d worried about her ability and frank unwillingness to socialize with her peers. He’d worried about her comfortable acceptance of solitude and what it meant for her future relationships.
She knew he’d worried she would spend her life as the town recluse, never finding love and never having a family of her own. 
As a child Y/N’s father had tried to encourage his daughter to socialize. He’d tried to place Y/N in a local Girl Scout troop, but she’d grown bored of selling cookies and sewing potholders quickly. It had only lasted a few months before she’d begun flat out refusing to leave her room when it was time for any troop meetings. 
He’d tried to reach out to her classmates' parents to set up sleepovers with Y/N and her schoolmates growing up, but her classmates had been less than keen on the idea of spending the night in the local funeral home. Y/N had of course argued that she didn’t want to spend time with any of the girls with her class anyhow as she found most of their interests and conversations to be dull. She’d be lying though of course if she tried to pretend that she hadn’t been hurt by her classmates' rejection of her. She’d never admit it but she’d been hurt that the other girls in her grade had not invited her to trade stickers or play with Barbies. So, it had been much easier to insist that she found them boring and lame anyhow instead of admitting that their rejection had hurt. 
Her father had even attempted to sign her up for art classes and sports teams at the community recreation center, but Y/N had been ever resistant. She’d had very little interest in taking ceramics classes and playing softball with the local kids.
Y/N had learned to never mind being alone. She’d always felt that perhaps loneliness was just the human condition. Being alone was a natural part of life. Y/N had always felt that she could easily argue that everyone was basically born alone and everyone would most likely die alone. 
In her opinion, people should be more comfortable with the concept of solitude. Alone was something people would often find themselves being, even if they didn’t want to admit it. She’d always argued that she was not a recluse but was simply comfortable with the peace of her own company. 
Deep down she could admit, at least to herself, that she’d always just felt anxious around the living. She knew what to expect from the dead who were put to rest in her family’s funeral home. The dead were predictable. The living were full of surprises and far too often disappointments. Being around the living scared the shit out of her. 
Perhaps that was why she’d always leaned so hard into her odd childhood and her career. She knew her job intimidated and frightened others. If she felt uncomfortable or anxious all she had to do was talk about embalming techniques or rates of decay and people would feel even more anxious than she did. 
Embracing loneliness in Charming was nothing new to Y/N. When she’d lived up in New York she’d thrown herself into work and when she wasn’t working she spent her days alone walking in the park, tending to her plants in her apartment, or visiting a thrift store. 
She’d had very little company in the means of friends and romantic partners. The few industry friends she’d had she didn’t see outside of work. It had felt that friends outside of the industry saw her only as an oddity. 
She’d quickly realized that most non-funeral home employed friends would always want to quickly introduce Y/N by pointing out just what her job was and the fact that she’d been raised in a funeral home. 
It made her feel like some kind of spectacle; just kept around for the morbid sense of entertainment she brought to others. 
Her past experience with her peers was enough to make her lean into solitude. 
If it was completely up to her she would much rather be at home right now perhaps even working. 
She’d hated to admit though that her father perhaps had a point. Being the owner of Charming’s most prominent funeral home meant that one had to be viewed as a trusted part of the community. When the time came for Charming to bury their dead Y/N knew she wanted to be the first one the locals thought to contact. 
So, she’d found herself wandering the festival trying her best to paste a smile on her face and pretend that she wasn’t hating every last second of this.
She was regretting not taking Skeeter’s offer to attend the festival with her. She’d turned down his offers well aware that her coworker was just as disinterested in making nice with the locals.
A part of her had to wonder if his feelings towards socializing with the locals was perhaps why Skeeter and she’d shared such a close bond. They were both accustomed to being outsiders in their community. 
She had only been at the festival for a couple of hours now and she was quickly growing tired of it all. 
Y/N tried her best to put a smile on her face and pretend that she didn’t notice the vendor, who was selling cotton candy, was clearly trying to take a peek down her dress and admire her cleavage as she paid for the treat. 
It was something Y/N had long ago realized about some of the male population of Charming, and males in general in her experience. Men would happily admire her body but the second she opened her mouth they ran.
She let out a soft sigh knowing that she’d only found one man who didn’t seem to want to run when she opened her mouth, and that man had been out of town for over a week now. 
Y/N had tried not to sound as defeated as she’d felt when Chibs had broken the news to her over the phone that he would be going up north on club business a little over a week ago. The bad news had been broken only a few days after that second date they’d had and she was disappointed to realize that the third date she’d promised him was being delayed. 
Of course, the trip had not stopped the daily phone calls even if those phone calls seemed to be far shorter than she’d prefer.
She was relieved that they’d at least had the conversation about her expectation of monogamy on that last date; though she’d had the feeling that this trip up north was not entirely a traditional club run. He’d not seemed keen to share the reasoning behind his sudden trip “up north” but she’d had a feeling it was not entirely for anything even close to being a law abiding activity. 
Y/N had found that her last date with Chibs had given her much to consider. She’d not been expecting anything Chibs had shared with her.
Those irksome little voices in the back of her head still insisted that she was an absolute fool for not running screaming at anything Chibs had told her. His past was a lot to take in.
It wasn’t just the past ties to the True IRA that made her feel a sense of unease; it was the entire concept that he was still legally married.
Her brain screamed at her that Chibs was throwing red flags left and right and she was going to suffer due to her reluctance to pay those flags any mind.
It had felt as though her heart screamed much louder than her brain though. Her heart told her that Chibs had at least been honest with her about his past. Didn’t honesty kind of make the red flag a little duller? It would be more of a red flag had he tried to hide his past from her or hide who he was. 
She had to trust that he’d been honest with her about who he was and what exactly she was in his life. She had to try to trust that he’d be honest about what a life with him might entail. 
It sounded ridiculous; the honest criminal.
Y/N snapped her purse shut, taking her cotton candy and quickly walking away from her vendor admirer. 
A voice in the back of her brain piped up that the cute little dress she’d worn today was not intended for this vendor to admire. 
The black sundress had been chosen for a certain Scotsman who may or may not make it back to Charming in time to watch the fireworks with her.  It was cute on her in her opinion; black with little red cherries printed along the fabric. It reached right above her knees and showed off her legs. The thin straps and sweetheart neckline showed her cleavage.
She had thought Chibs might appreciate the dress and how it showed off her better assets.
Chibs had not wanted to make any promises that he’d be back in town in time to meet her for the fireworks show. He’d only given her the promise that he would try his very best. She could admit though that she’d been willing to put the effort into her clothing choice today just in case Chibs did happen to make it back in time. 
She would never admit that to Chibs or anyone else though. As far as he or anyone else would know; she just liked this dress and she was absolutely just wearing it for her own enjoyment. 
Her annoyance only grew as a familiar voice called out to her. “Y/N, I didn’t expect to see you.”
She turned to spot the Queen of SAMCRO waving her over. She thought about pretending that she could not hear Gemma Teller Morrow or maybe pretending that she had a cell phone call to take all of a sudden.
She unfortunately realized though that there was no avoiding visiting with Gemma…especially if Y/N did have any sort of future with Chibs.
Chibs was part of SAMCRO and Gemma was the Queen of SAMCRO. There was no avoiding the Queen. As much as Y/N was trying to live in denial she knew a life with Chibs would heavily involve SAMCRO. 
“Gemma, nice to see you.” Y/N remarked reluctantly making her way over to the table of baked goods Gemma had set up in TM Auto’s name of course. Though the idea of the local MC selling brownies and lemon squares was enough of a humorous thought to put a slight smirk on Y/N’s lips.
Gemma spoke nodding down at the younger woman. “I thought I spotted the hearse in the parking lot.”
Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes, annoyed that she was still stuck driving the old hearse given that her poor Acura was still sitting in the garage at TM Auto. She knew that driving the black circa 1970 Cadillac Hearse had made her stick out all the more as the outsider to the locals today. 
She spoke, doing her best to keep her reply polite. “Yep. Luckily my father started it up every once in a while…pretty sure he bought that car pretty soon after he married my mom…didn’t replace it until he got the 2003 model.”
She tried not to cringe at the last part of her statement. The new hearse had been another expense her father had made trying to keep the business up and running. At least she wasn’t drowning in the debt from that particular purchase. 
Gemma gave a small smirk in response. “Your Acura would get fixed a hell of a lot quicker if Chibs would let anyone but him touch it.”
Y/N didn’t have time to focus on that piece of information as Gemma spoke again, not missing a chance to dive into the conversation she’d been clearly dying to have. “So, I’ve heard that the one date wasn’t just one date.”
Y/N sighed not at all liking this conversation. She was so not looking forward to a continuation of the same talk she’d already had with Gemma prior to that first date. “It has been a couple of dates thus far.”
“I’m assuming he hasn’t offered you more favors in exchange for another date, has he?” Gemma dared to ask not shying away from pushing Y/N’s buttons just the slightest.
It was clear she was testing the waters; being sure Y/N wasn’t looking to take advantage of Chibs’ apparent affections for her. 
Y/N clinched her jaw resisting the urge to say anything she might regret. She had a feeling going off on Gemma would not exactly do her any favors both in her relationship with Chibs and her dealings with SAMCRO. “He hasn’t had to offer me a thing in order to get another date.”
“Good, I’m glad to know it’s moved past being a trade off.” Gemma remarked not saying the silent part out loud glad to see you aren’t whoring yourself out to him for favors. 
Y/N was quick to mention the quiet part out loud. “I’ve already stated, it was never that type of a date. Despite the indiscretions of my youth, I’ve never put out in exchange for a favor.”
She cleared her throat knowing that she sounded just the slightest bit defensive though she knew no one could blame her. “I’ve matured a little since my days as a Friday night visitor. I’m not particularly interested in screwing guys in kuttes to cope with my issues anymore.”
“So, I’m taking it you only have interest in one man in a kutte?” Gemma remarked a slight hint of what Y/N was surprised to see just might be approval in her voice.
“I’m interested in him, the fact that he wears a kutte isn’t the motivation behind that interest. I meant what I said in our last conversation. I’ve never had any interest in playing the croweater game. I’m more interested in him than what he is.” Y/N remarked not entirely wanting to admit that the fact that Chibs wore the reaper on his back did make her feel the slightest bit anxious.
Reentering the world of SAMCRO was not something she aspired to do. Her mind still screeched at her that Chibs’ world was one she’d tried so hard to leave behind when she’d left Charming almost a decade prior.
The voice insisted that being with him would lead her right back to being the angry broken young woman she’d been almost ten years ago.
Gemma spoke seemingly able to see the conflict bouncing around behind Y/N’s eyes. “The kutte is part of who he is though. You can’t have him without it.”
She paused only for a moment ready to give Y/N the same talk she’d given to dozens of ol ladies prior. “Love the man, learn to love the club.”
Y/N let out a small huff quickly wanting to argue that she wasn’t quite sure it was love. It was far too soon for love. If anything it was a fondness and an affection for him. She enjoyed being around him. She liked how she felt when she was around him. She enjoyed how easy it felt to open up to him and how at ease he’d seemed to open up with her about his own past. She enjoyed the gentle sense of acceptance and security she felt with him. 
Y/N tried not to cringe remembering her conversation with Gemma about how she was not looking to become anyone’s ol lady.
She was uncertain if Chibs even considered her his ol lady? Did she even consider herself one? She was certain that it was most likely far too soon to be throwing around any titles. They’d not even shared a first kiss yet.  
Y/N spoke keeping her voice even hoping her words made her opinion on the matter clear. “I know who and what he is. I’m perfectly aware of what having him entails.”
“Good, like I’ve said before, you’ve always been clever. You’re smart enough to know just what to expect from him and to react accordingly.” Gemma remarked that strange sense of approval hanging at the back of her voice.
Gemma spoke again, not shying away from continuing to pry. “How are things going with him?”
Y/N pretended to be interested in the cotton candy she held in her hand twisting the wooden stick between her fingers as she replied. “It’s going well. No complaints on my end; don’t know about his end.
“Good to hear. Haven’t heard a complaint from him. The guys are giving him a lot of crap, but they do love to take the piss out of each other; men.” Gemma remarked with a slight tone of amusement in her voice.
Y/N raised a brow at the statement, once again surprised that the approval sounded genuine. She chose to play nice. “Everything does seem to be either a pissing contest or taking the piss out of one another with men.”
She only earned a hmm of acknowledgement in response from Gemma. Y/N cringed as another familiar face seemed eager to join the conversation.
She gazed up at Sheriff Unser, the man sliding his way into the conversation with ease. “Miss. Y/L/N.”
“Sheriff.” Y/N responded hoping her voice hid any sign of tension. She couldn’t help but to fear that any conversation with the sheriff might dip into something similar to the last interaction she’d had with a member of Charming’s police force. 
She was not in the mood to dodge questions about those robbed graves again. 
She shifted in place not entirely comfortable around Sheriff Wayne Unser considering the last time she was sure she’d actually spoken to him had been almost ten years prior when he’d been lecturing her in a jail cell after she’d been picked up by a rookie cop at the local convenience store after a night spent at the Sons clubhouse.
She was quite certain from what she could recall from her fuzzy memory she’d been passionately arguing with the sheriff that she was not in fact intoxicated and was quite offended that he would accuse her of such a thing given that she was under the legal drinking age. She was also quite certain she’d called him a fascist though she was not entirely sure she’d known what the word had really fully meant back then. She’d been immature and drunk enough to throw that word around as an insult back then without fully understanding what being a fascist fully entailed.
Needless to say Y/N’s father had been once again unamused to be answering a phone call from Sheriff Unser that his daughter was once again sitting at a jail cell sleeping off her intoxication.
Community service and lectures about underage drinking had been a regular occurrence back then for Y/N. 
She had to hope that Sheriff Unser didn’t remember the whole fascist comment after all these years.
She was relieved as he spoke nodding to her. “How’s the funeral business?”
“It’s going well. No complaints from me.” She remarked hoping that the next question wouldn’t be about those empty graves nor the Lodi police department’s investigation about the bodies that had once occupied those graves.
She let out a soft breath hoping relief wasn’t plastered across her features as Unser spoke nodding his head. “I’ve been meaning to come in and see you. Terminal cancer, figured I should plan ahead.”
Y/N felt her stomach drop her thoughts flashing to her own father the thought making her heart twist. Pancreatic cancer had taken his life so quickly. She did her best to keep the grief free from her features. 
She did notice the discomfort on Gemma’s face at the mention of Unser’s turn in health. 
Y/N kept her voice even adopting a professional tone. “It’s never a bad idea to plan ahead. I would offer the same advice to anyone regardless of their health. You can always reach me at my business line. My door is always open.”
She paused, clearing her throat fast to speak again. “I’m sorry for...I’m sorry to hear the prognosis.”
Unser waved his hand as though he was brushing away the comment. She frowned quickly deciding he’d probably heard the same canned response a dozen times by now.
She didn’t have a chance to continue the conversation as Gemma nodded to an unfamiliar face working the food stand that was usually run by the Charming Police Department. “Who’s he?”
Y/N turned to glance at the man Gemma had noticed she furrowing her brow not recognizing him. He certainly did not seem to be a member of the local police department, given that he was not in uniform like the other men working the stand, but seemed all too chummy to help serve up food and interact with the locals.
There was something about him that made Y/N feel uneasy.
Unser spoke, rolling his eyes slightly. “Agent Kohn, ATF. He’s apparently here following up on a lead on an Interstate weapons case. He’s been buddied up to Deputy Hale for weeks now. Hale has been all too happy to keep me out of the loop.”
Y/N glanced at Gemma, noticing the look of discomfort that flashed through the woman’s eyes only briefly. Y/N sense that an interstate weapons case might just so happen to have something to do with SAMCRO.
Judging by the quick glance Gemma shot her, Y/N was certain it most likely did have something to do with SAMCRO.
Y/N cleared her throat, her stomach turning at the mention of feds and what that might mean for both SAMCRO and Chibs…and possibly her given her involvement doing those favors for SAMCRO.
She continued to twirl her cotton candy in her hand as she spoke hoping she sounded calm and collected. “I’ll be seeing you both around. I think the ladies room is calling my name.”
She turned not acknowledging any response she received.
Sheriff Unser raised a brow at the local undertaker watching her as she walked away. He nodded her direction as he spoke to Gemma. “Strange to see her back in town. She’s not picking up any old habits at the clubhouse is she? I’m not really looking to have the local funeral director sitting in one of my jail cells for being drunk and disorderly.”
Gemma smirked at the question she fast to reply. “At least she’ll be old enough to drink this time around…I don’t think she’s entirely picking up the same habits. Chibs is sweet on her though, pretty sure the feeling is mutual.”
“Chibs?” Unser questioned thinking of the Scottish Son who had come to town not long after Y/N had left Charming.
He wasn’t quite sure he could picture the Scot being sweet on anyone. He found the concept of the frankly rough looking older biker having any sort of affectionate feelings for Charming’s young pretty undertaker to be strange.
He frowned trying to wrap his head around the thought. He had a hard time picturing the elegant funeral director as an ol lady, especially the ol lady of an older Scotsman who had rumored possible ties to a dark history in Belfast. They seemed like an odd pair on paper.
He furrowed his brow further, a memory crossing his mind. “I’m pretty sure the last time I saw her, about ten years ago, she called me a fascist.”
Gemma smirked slightly at the statement. “She always did have a smart mouth. Don’t think she’s grown out of that habit at least.”
Unser huffed at the information, having to hope that he wouldn’t find Y/N in his jail cell anytime soon.
He had a feeling her insults had become a little more sophisticated with age.
===========================
The fireworks flowered above her in the dark sky, the smell of smoke filling the air as the colorful sparks flew up into the sky creating dazzling patterns of vibrant pinks, greens, purples, and reds.
She’d always loved fireworks. New Years and the Forth of July were always enjoyable holidays for her due to the fact that fireworks were involved. She’d adored playing with sparklers as a kid waving them around and playing with fire literally though it had made her father nervous he having seen enough accidental deaths related to fireworks in his time as an undertaker.
She was thankful she’d been smart enough to bring a light black cardigan with her as the night settled in and the temperature outside cooled.
She sighed softly, able to at least enjoy the show even if she distinctly felt quite alone. It was hard not to feel that way surrounded by happy families and a few couples. For once she was surprised to find that she minded being all alone.
She was beginning to lose hope that Chibs would manage to make it back in time.
She knew she shouldn’t be too disappointed; after all, he’d made her no promises that he would in fact make it.
On the bright side, she was at least relieved to know that the fireworks show signaled the end of the Taste of Charming Festival which meant her social obligation of making nice with the locals was about to end.
It couldn’t come sooner as she felt her social battery beginning to drain by the second.
She made the decision that she could leave now if she wanted. After all, she’d spent most of her day at the festival making polite small talk with vendors and locals alike, thankful that the news of those empty graves seemed to be growing boring to the locals.
She would have completely lost her mind if she’d had to spend her day dodging questions about the empty graves in Charming’s local cemetery and any odd questions about her profession. 
Y/N began to turn to see if she could snake her way through the crowd and make it to the parking lot and her hearse.
She felt a pair of hands place at her waist before she even had a chance to move. The familiar voice sounded out. “Made it, Hen.”
She felt her heart lift, unable to stop herself from turning her arms embracing him. She spoke her voice soft, his name sliding from her lips. “Filip.”
Chibs held her against him, his eyes closing for a moment soaking up her touch. He was surprised to find that he’d longed for her in his time away.
The sense of longing for a woman was not new. After all, he’d spent years longing for Fiona.
The longing he felt for Y/N had been unexpected. He couldn’t help but to realize that he was hopelessly screwed when it came to her. Only two dates in and he was already this ensnared by her. He’d found he didn’t quite mind feeling as though he was wrapped up in her web though. He’d found it a pleasant place to be. 
When Clay had ordered Chibs to head up north with McKeavy to monitor his meetings regarding the guns he smuggled from Belfast to the US, Chibs had not been entirely enthusiastic.
He’d not argued though and had dutifully followed the orders of his club Pres. That didn’t mean he’d enjoyed himself though. McKeavy was obnoxious at the best of times. So, being stuck on this trip up north with him was not something Chibs had found pleasant.   Oregon had felt gloomy and he’d grown sick of shitty food on the road and crappy motel rooms.
The nightly phone calls to Y/N had felt like the only bright spot he’d experienced during his entire trip. Though the phone calls had been far shorter than he’d like, they’d still felt like a nice distraction from the day to day annoyances he’d dealt with during his time with McKeavy. 
Talks of the cause, money, guns, and what this meant for SAMCRO’s dealing with the True IRA had given Chibs a massive headache. 
He’d done his best to keep an eye on McKeavey and take note of anything he might need to report back to SAMCRO, but Chibs could admit Y/N had always been at the back of his mind. He’d found himself more often than not mentally making loose plans for their next date or wondering just what she might be up to at the moment. He’d wondered if she was working. Was she bored? Was she doing anything interesting at work? Did she miss him as much as he missed her?
He knew that tomorrow morning he would have to go report his findings to SAMCRO but for tonight he’d chosen to go straight to the Taste of Charming Festival and see the woman he’d been missing for over a week now. 
He could admit he’d sped like a bat out of hell the closer he’d gotten to Charming’s county line. 
Though he’d made no promises to her that he’d make it back into town in time for the firework show, he’d still been determined to make it back.
He felt that warm feeling, that he longed for each time she parted from him, wash over him as she leaned up her lips pressing to his cheek. He couldn’t stop the content sigh from leaving him certain he’d never get enough of soft kisses to his cheek.
He found himself once again feeling reluctant to allow her to pull away as her lips left his skin. 
He didn’t have long to mourn the loss though as her hand pressed to where her lips had just been she caressed his skin as she spoke. “How was up north?”
He smirked knowing he’d not exactly given her a location when he’d broken the news to her that he’d be leaving town for a bit. He found himself leaning into her touch as he spoke. “Oregon was fine, lass. Nothin’ like home though.”
She let out a soft sigh, tempted to ask him just what he’d been up to in Oregon and maybe even mention the ATF agent Unser had pointed out earlier, but she kept the questions and concerns inside, deciding that now was not the time nor place for it.
Chibs stared down at her waiting for the questions about his activities in Oregon, but the questions did not come Y/N pressing her lips to the cheek her hand was not currently stroking. “It sounds stupid, but I missed you.”
“Not stupid, I missed ya too, Hen.” He remarked the words sliding from him without hesitation; he meaning them more than she knew.
He glanced down at her outfit having the exact reaction she'd expected. "Did ya pick out this sweet lookin dress all fer me, Hen?"
"Maybe I just like dresses." She commented continuing to caress his cheek the action soothing him even with her denial she'd picked out this dress with him in mind.
He smirked seeing right through the comment. He stared down at her soaking up the moment enjoying her touch hoping she was enjoying his embrace.
He debated if this was the moment to lean in and allow his lips to slide across hers. It did seem like the perfect setting; fireworks going off above them, soaking up being reunited after not seeing one another for over a week now.
Y/N spoke as she pulled from him turning back around to stare back up at the night sky. “Watch the fireworks with me, Filip. You can tell me about your trip later.”
He sighed debating just how much detail he should go into about his trip with her and just what the Sons business involved.
He chose not to focus too hard on the internal debate though obediently giving into her request.
He stood behind her his arms wrapping around her waist, a satisfied sense of warmth washing over him as she leaned back against him, her hand reaching down to place over his arm caressing his skin through the cotton of his shirt sleeve.
He turned his attention to the sky taking in the show enjoying the feeling of her in his arms.
He found that his worries about the club, the IRA, and just what Y/N might make of it all were too far away to grasp at the moment.
He once again found himself debating if he should turn her around and press his lips to hers like he’d been dying to do for what seemed like a long while now.
He’d found that he didn’t quite mind waiting a little longer to feel her lips against his though. He was surprised to find that this moment felt like enough for now.
He had a feeling that anything with her would feel like enough.
The couple remained unaware that a certain Deputy caught sight of their interactions and was none too pleased to see the happy couple locked in an embrace enjoying the fireworks show.
—----------------
.Skeeter did not have a chance to make it to his boss’s office ahead of Deputy David Hale who did not even bother to knock before he opened the door.
The man glared down at Y/N fast to speak, his voice filled with tension and disapproval. “I thought you weren’t falling back into any old habits?”
Y/N let out a huff looking up from her computer monitor and the obituary she’d been proofreading for a family as she spoke her voice holding a hint of sarcasm. “Deputy Hale, please come in.”
Skeeter chose to pop his head in the door, breathing heavily, it apparently taking him some effort to catch up to Deputy Hale when the man was on a rampage. Skeeter was not in the best shape and his larger frame meant that he sometimes moved at a bit more of a sluggish pace especially when compared to someone who was in as good of physical fitness as the deputy. “Y/N, Deputy Hale is here to see you.”
“Yep, got that, Skeet. Thanks.” She remarked, that hint of sarcasm still dripping from her words.
She rolled her eyes pushing her desk chair back as she waved a hand at Skeeter shooing him. “You can go, Skeeter. I think I’m the only one receiving the lecture today.”
Skeeter hesitated, his eyes narrowing, he clearly reluctant to move away from the office door and leave Y/N alone with a pissed off police officer. 
She spoke again, sending him a small look of reassurance. “I’m fine, I’ll call you if I need you.”
Her coworker let out a slight huff slowly moving away, shutting the door behind him. Y/N gazed up at the Deputy her voice tired the irritation still evident in her voice. “You should feel thankful I’m alone here. I don’t think any of my clientele would appreciate having their loved one’s funeral planning interrupted by your ranting and raving.”
Deputy Hale scoffed at the comment he fast to speak up, his voice still harsh as he spoke. “Tell me you aren’t involved with SAMCRO?”
Y/N raised an eyebrow at the question. She stared back at her computer monitor saving the word document she’d been working on as she spoke. “Define involved?”
“Filip Chibs Telford?” Hale snapped the tension in his voice growing by the moment his brow furrowing so tight she was almost sure he’d pop a blood vessel in his temple.
She spoke rolling her eyes, a headache beginning to develop in the base of her skull. “I wasn’t aware my romantic life was any business of the local police department. I wish someone had notified me about it if it is. I’ve had a few bad dates in the past that I certainly could have used you guys help with.”
Hale let out a huff not amused by her method of responding to his line of questioning. “You are aware of his history, are you not?”
Y/N kept her cool gazing up at the deputy, her voice sounding as tired as she felt as she played dumb. “His history as a Glasgowegin mechanic who immigrated from Belfast, Northern Ireland? I didn’t take you for being xenophobic, David. I’m disappointed. If you’ve got something against immigrants you should know that Filip became an American citizen a few years ago. Though I am pretty sure he now holds dual citizenship.”
David snapped at her, not at all amused by her responses nor her accusations that he was xenophobic. “Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N. You know exactly what I’m talking about?”
She continued to play dumb a sigh leaving her. “I do?”
“SAMCRO? Chibs’ past alleged ties to the True IRA?” Hale spat out his hands placing on his hips looking far too smug for her liking as though he thought he’d just dropped a huge bombshell on her by mentioning the True IRA.
She rolled her eyes knowing that comment may have shocked her if Chibs hadn’t already revealed that part of his past to her. “I don’t think I believe a mechanic from Glasgow is exactly hiding that kind of deep dark secret; sounds like rumors from bored gossips with nothing better to do. He’s not a perfect angel, but he’s not that interesting. I always thought you were too sensible to be such a gossip.”
She paused, having no trouble giving out the company line that was always given in response when people had questions about SAMCRO. “The Sons of Anarchy are just a group of mechanics who just so happen to be motorcycle enthusiasts. There’s nothing going on there other than the occasional wild party and a little minor misbehavior. You know how people can get when they’ve had too much to drink. I know I’ve been guilty of running my mouth and getting into a little trouble during my championship drinking days. Pretty sure you arrested me a time or two back when you were a rookie cop and I was a dumb kid indulging a little too hard in wine coolers”
Hale scoffed at this comment he glaring down at her. “Right, Guess you’ve been coached on how to talk about SAMCRO?”
She sighed as she focused on straightening the paperwork on her desk giving the aura of disinterest in this entire conversation. 
Hale spoke again, another scoff leaving his lips. “I don’t suppose your boyfriend and his associates have anything to do with those empty graves we discussed a while back?”
She gazed up at him, her face unresponsive keeping the same bored tone to her voice she’d tried to maintain throughout this entire conversation. “I don’t know why you would assume they would have anything to do with that unfortunate incident.”
She paused, still keeping her cool as she spoke again hoping the hint of guilt she felt over the favor she’d done for SAMCRO wasn’t apparent in her voice. “What happened with those graves is troubling and disturbing. I do hope that the Lodi Police Department finds the responsible party. Though I’ve heard through the grapevine of Charming gossip that the case had run cold. The families of the deceased were quite distressed over the incident. I’ve helped them transfer the care of their loved ones over to Williams Brothers Funeral Home. I do hope that the deceased will find a peaceful rest this time around.”
She paused again, a soft sigh leaving her as she spoke again unable to resist digging the knife in just a smidge. “Isn’t the grave robbery case out of your jurisdiction Deputy Hale? I thought Lodi had it covered. I’ve already spoken with them and I’m afraid I couldn’t provide them with any more information than what I already gave you. You should probably let their department handle that one. You wouldn’t want to interfere with their investigation.”
She was quite sure that if looks could kill that the look Hale shot her in response to this comment would have killed her on sight. 
He spoke a huff leaving his lips. “Two bodies went missing from a warehouse Clay Morrow and SAMCRO own, it happened right around the time Lodi’s forensic team was distracted by that staged crime scene using the two bodies from that grave robbery. You don’t see any connections there Y/N?”
She sat back in her desk chair, her voice not revealing a thing. She spoke up, not caring if she was being somewhat cruel. “I’m afraid I don’t Deputy. I’m not a detective though…Neither are you. I mean you are just the future Sheriff…or I guess not anymore, I heard rumors around town that Sheriff Unser decided not to retire. Guess you’ll have to wait for that promotion. It makes you a bit of vulture to be honest...the man is terminally ill and you're eagerly waiting to scoop up his job.”
Hale gave her another look that she was quite certain could kill as he spoke. “Did you have anything to do with any of those missing bodies?”
The lie slid from Y/N’s lips without hesitation. “No, of course not. I don’t appreciate a baseless accusation when you're standing in my place of business especially when you’ve barged in here uninvited. I went to school for this, Deputy. I took more classes on the ethics of my profession than you can imagine. I do have a license that I worked my ass off for…two of them actually one in New York and one in California. I didn’t work that hard to fuck it all up.”
She spoke again a heavy sigh leaving her feeling more exhausted by the second. “I don’t think Filip or Clay Morrow are going around robbing graves and stealing bodies from warehouses. Sounds a little morbid and more than a little outlandish don’t you think, especially for a bunch of mechanics?”
Hale sent her yet another glare, his voice still tense, sounding as though he knew she was full of shit. “Right.”
She spoke up before he had a chance to push this conversation along. “If that’s all, I do have quite a bit of work to get back to…work you’re keeping me from with whatever this whole interaction has been.”
She paused her voice picking up a hint of harshness of her own. “As I’ve said, Deputy, my romantic life is not of any concern to the local police department and it certainly is of no concern to you.”
She stared back to her computer monitor, not sparing David Hale another glance. “You can see yourself out. I’m sure Skeeter will be happy to escort you from my home.”
Hale sent her a scornful look at this statement, he reluctantly turned to open her office door only to reveal Skeeter who had clearly been leaning against the closed door trying to listen in to the conversation between his boss and the deputy.
Y/N rolled her eyes not shocked he’d been attempting to eavesdrop. She was sure she might get a tiny lecture from Skeeter later as well. 
She spoke using her hand to motion to Skeeter, she not looking up from her monitor. “Show the Deputy out, Skeeter. I think our conversation has reached an end.”
She sighed as the door closed behind Skeeter and her unwelcome guest.
She took a few deep breaths before she picked up her cell phone, opening it and sending a quick text message to a number that had become far too familiar. 
I need you.
===============================
Y/N tried her best to keep a the demure polite smile on her lips as she listened to old Mrs. Moore describe exactly what she wanted for her funeral though the information had not changed in the past three times they’d had a similar meeting about these plans.
Mrs. Maude Moore was a little death obsessed. This was saying something considering Y/N herself had been accused of being obsessed with death.
The old woman was nearing her eighties and was quite determined to make sure that her eventual funeral would happen exactly how she’d envisioned it. 
To be honest, Y/N had decided that this meeting with Mrs. Moore would not be an official meeting. 
She was beginning to feel guilty for charging the old woman for her time over and over and over again.
Instead Y/N had agreed to meet with her through her usual scheduled lunch. She’d chosen to keep her lunch light lying and claiming she had low blood sugar to explain why she was snacking on fruit during a work meeting.
She sighed as Mrs. Moore once again explained that she just had to be buried in the peach dress and not the pink dress her family would try to insist she be buried in.
She took a deep breath as Mrs. Moore spoke once again explaining the reasoning. “The dress matches the roses. I want peach roses; peach tiffany roses. In flower language peach roses symbolize sincerity and warm feelings. I want those feelings represented in my service. I want the casket spray filled with peach tiffany roses and baby's breath. My son will try to insist on lilies but I hate lilies. He knows it, but his father's funeral had lilies and he’s going to try to insist on lilies. I hated his father and I don’t want the lilies. Are you writing this down?”
“Yes, peach tiffany roses, no lilies.” Y/N lied knowing that she had no need to write this down. She had it all written down from the last few times they’d had the same conversation.
Y/N had never been so happy to hear the knock at her office door Skeeter peeking his head in a small smirk crossing his lips until he noticed Mrs. Moore.
He spoke apparently deciding to go with a more boring statement than whatever he’d had planned. “Filip is here to see you.”
Y/N felt her heart lift at the comment. The only response she’d gotten to her text earlier had been a little later than she’d prefer and a promise that he’d be there as soon as he possibly could get to her.
She’d ignored the vagueness and lateness of the response telling herself that club business might have had him tied up.
She had to wonder what Mrs. Moore might make of the intimidating outlaw biker who was about to enter her office.
She quickly decided she didn’t quite have it in her to care as mean as the thought was.
She spoke nodding to Mrs. Moore. “I’m afraid I have to cut our talk short today Mrs. Moore. We can meet to discuss these details later, next week perhaps.”
Mrs. Moore twisted her lips in a scowl not looking pleased to hear that Y/N was ending this talk. She spoke the displeasure clear in her voice. “Same time?”
“Of course, at the same time.” Y/N remarked standing up ready to show the woman out and get her away until she once again arrived to discuss peach roses and her no good son. 
Skeeter opened the door revealing that Y/N’s reason for cutting this meeting short was ready and waiting.
She hated to admit that she felt somewhat amused by how pale Mrs. Moore grew as she gazed up at Chibs. 
Y/N was sure she could spot a mix of fear of him, and a fear of leaving polite and prim Y/N alone with him, in Mrs. Moore’s eyes.
Y/N spoke nodding to Skeeter. “Skeet, you don’t mind escorting Mrs. Moore to her Buick do you?”
Skeeter sent her a look that clearly read that of course he minded, but he held it in, nodding his head. “No, I don’t mind at all.”
Chibs didn’t approach Y/N until the door closed behind them finally giving them some privacy.
He embraced her, holding her tightly, she taking notice of a certain amount of tension practically vibrating through his body.
She frowned remembering that she’d felt the same tension in his body  before that last date they’d had. 
He spoke a shaky sigh leaving him a hint of humor at least finding its way into his voice. “I didn’ scare off yer future client did I, Hen?”
Y/N shook her head a small laugh leaving her. “You probably did, but it was a needed scare. This is the fourth time she’s come in this month. She’s a little too obsessive over her future funeral…I’m serious. I keep making Skeeter escort her to her car because I’m almost afraid she’s going to go crawl into one of the caskets we have for display and try it out.”
The comment did manage to work a small chuckle from Chibs’ lips though his grip did not loosen on her body.
She ran her hand up and down his back, her voice soft. “I’m sensing your day has gone about as well as mine.”
“Aye, ya can say that.” Chibs remarked a heavy sigh leaving him he wishing he could have gotten to her sooner.
He’d been a bit tied up when he’d received the text and then he’d had to clean up a mess at the clubhouse. 
She pulled back from his embrace taking his hands in hers as she spoke. “Sit with me and talk.”
She made her way over to her desk fully expecting him to pull a chair over to sit beside her as she sat down in her desk chair.
She was surprised as he dropped down to his knees in between her legs, his arms wrapping around her waist. He clearly wanted to be as close as possible to her. He buried his face against her body, a sigh leaving him wanting to surround himself with the scent of her perfume. 
It was a lovely mixture of lilies and a few other floral scents. He was also sure there was a hint of citrus there as well. He’d first noticed it after that first date as it had clung to his Kutte. He’d thought he was going crazy at first, almost certain that he was still smelling that floral wreath she’d been holding when he picked her up for their date.
It had quickly hit him though that it was just the slightest hint of her perfume. It was a scent he was growing to love. 
She ran a hand up and down his back recovering from her surprise at the apparent need for affection. 
They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke. “Deputy Hale paid a visit to me earlier…hence my text. I guess he’s figured out we’re seeing one another. He had plenty to say about that…seemed to treat it like he was warning me about you. He brought up some crap about your supposed ties to the True IRA…in between accusing me of being knowing more than I do about those grave robberies and those missing bodies from SAMCRO’s warehouse.”
The tension only grew in Chibs’ body, he speaking. “What’d ya say, love?”
Y/N spoke reassuring him. “That any rumors about your ties to the True IRA are just that…rumors. I assured him that SAMCRO is just a group of motorcycle enthusiasts who love a good party. I pointed out that I know nothing more than what I already told him…I may have thrown in a few digs of my own about his lack of a promotion as well…maybe.”
Chibs snickered, peeking up at her, a clear sense of pride noticeable in his voice. “Tha’s my lass.”
She shook her head, her hand continuing to stroke his back. She couldn’t deny the warm feeling that washed over her at his approval though.
He let out a heavy sigh, deciding to be honest. “He’s probably feelin’ bold. ATF is in town.”
“I know.” She remarked, spotting the look of surprise on Chibs’ face.
“They paid ya a visit, Hen?” He asked, his stomach knotting up worried that the ATF agent who had hauled Clay away in cuffs this morning had somehow decided to pay Y/N a visit.
He knew the thought made little sense though. Agent June Stahl most likely had zero reason to question Y/N. Y/N was most likely not even on the ATF radar.
She spoke, shaking her head. “I spotted an agent at the Taste of Charming Festival a few days ago…I was talking with Gemma and Unser when I spotted him at the Charming PD’s food stand. Agent Kohn…I think that was the guy's name.”
Chibs sighed those protective tendencies he usually felt over Y/N simmering down slightly now that he knew the ATF had not been harassing her. Though he was not pleased to hear Deputy Hale had been apparently bothering her.
“Aye different agent than the one who paid SAMCRO a visit this mornin’ then.” Chibs remarked.
She widened her eyes, Chibs realizing he had to go into an explanation. He just hoped she could handle it. “How much do ya want to know bout the club, Hen? I won’ share more with ya than ya ever wan’ to hear.”
She debated her options knowing she could live in denial, refusing to let him tell her a thing about whatever SAMCRO was up to. She could pretend that this part of his life was separate from the life they may have together.
She knew her other option was full disclosure. She could let him tell her everything. She could allow him to open up to her as much as he felt fit. She could accept that whatever happened with SAMCRO was a part of his life.
She sighed remembering Gemma’s statement at the Taste of Charming Festival. SAMCRO was part of who Chibs was. She had to accept the kutte on his back if she wanted him.
She came to her decision knowing that there was only one clear path. “There’s no sense keeping things from me…I already know you guys aren’t exactly operating on the legal side of things…neither am I after I did those favors for SAMCRO. Pretty sure I made the choice that I was willing to hear about SAMCRO when I agreed to be the funeral home contact for any club needs. I’ve been around SAMCRO before, Filip. I already had the sense that you guys aren’t just mechanics who love Harleys.”
Chibs sighed knowing she had a point. She was already aware of SAMCRO’s criminal element. She’d agreed to be a part of that element when she offered to do favors for the club through the funeral home.  “Aye if it ever becomes too much, let me know, Hen.”
He paused, taking a deep breath before he went into the full story. “Ol’ friend of Piney’s did somethin’ fuckin’ dumb with some AK 47s….guns SAMCRO provided fer a price…Some fuckin’ militia shite…ATF caught wind of it…carted Clay off fer questioning…trashed the clubhouse searchin’ fer more guns. I’ve spent my afternoon tryin to undo the damage to the clubhouse. I ain’ worried bout Clay…we took care of hidin’ any guns from the ATF fer now.”
She sighed taking in the information. She cringed at the mention of guns. She’d been in her line of work long enough to see just what gun violence could do to end a life. During her time in New York she’d had more deceased who died from gunshots than she could count on her fingers.
She could admit that guns had always made her a little nervous. It was a strange thought. She was so comfortable around death but weapons made her feel lightheaded.
She took a deep breath letting the information wash over her debating if this was way too much to handle.
A voice in the back of her head insisted that yes, it was way too much. It screamed that Filip was a criminal and SAMCRO already led her to doing something illegal. It yelled to get away from Chibs before she did something worse.
Another voice pointed out that she was not naive. She knew just who Chibs was when she met him. She knew just what he was. She liked him. She felt safe with him. She felt like she was not such an outcast with him; or at the very least he accepted her as the outcast she was as he wasn’t exactly immune from being an outsider in Charming himself.
She took a deep breath only able to come up with one response. “What can I do? Is there anything I can do?”
Chibs was surprised by the statement. He spoke, his voice tired, a hint of fondness hanging over his words. “Fer the club, love?”
She spoke the answer seemed so clear. “For the club…and for you?”
He gave her a soft smile, the words leaving him. “Fer the club…nothin righ’ now. Fer me…Jus’ be here, Hen. Jus’ stick ‘round. Put up with me. I need ya.”
“I’m here, Filip.” She promised the words so similar to the ones she’d said to him the day he’d told her all bout his past in Belfast and the trauma behind it.
The words washed over Chibs, he felt like he could breathe for the first time all day.
He stared up at her, no longer able to resist what his heart and head had been screaming at him since that first date.
He took her by surprise as he leaned in it only taking her a moment to realize what was happening she leaning in as well.
His lips brushed across hers, the touch feather light and gentle. His arms pulled her closer to him, her hand pressing to his cheek as she responded to the soft kiss.
They both closed their eyes sinking into the kiss giving into what they’d both been dancing around their past two dates, both realizing that they should have done this far sooner. 
It didn’t take long for Chibs to become a little more bold once he seemed sure that she was enjoying this and was a happy participant in the action, the kiss growing deeper. The hand that wasn’t pressed to his cheek placed at the back of his head messing his usually unruly hair all the further. 
His tongue all too skillfully parted her lips sliding along hers with ease. She felt the soft moan leave her lips not missing the groan of approval that left his own lips. She had to wonder just how he knew how to so easily dominate the kisses making her feel weak in the knees even if she was sitting. She had a feeling she knew just how he’d gotten so good at this. 
Something gave her the slightest feeling though that he’d not exactly kissed any of the croweaters who may have entertained him for quite a while now with this much intensity nor affection. 
She wasn’t entirely sure how much time passed but she was quite certain of one thing; that no one had ever managed to kiss her quite as proficiently or as passionately as Filip Chibs Telford.
Chibs was certain that he was quite sure no one had ever managed to respond to his kisses with quite this much enthusiasm in longer than he cared to admit. 
He was filled with the sudden realization that he would not be entirely capable of keeping his lips from hers from now on. It was going to take some serious effort on his part not to press his lips to hers at least once an hour.
They were reluctant to part from one another but the need for air won out over any need to continue their current activity.
A shared giggle left both of them as their lips parted a sense of giddiness washing over them after the stressful events of their day and the realization that they’d both given in to something they’d both badly wanted.
She dared to open her eyes gazing into Chibs’ she once again feeling thankful he’d thought to push his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head.
She was still certain it was a sin to cover up such a lovely pair of eyes.
He spoke a teasing tone in his voice. “So, did ya enjoy it?”
She felt the laugh leave her she responded with a soft kiss to his lips, this kiss far more chaste that the previous kiss they'd shared. She spoke as she parted from him far too quickly for his liking. “Does that answer the question?”
He chuckled, his arms remaining wrapped tightly around her she resting her head against the nape of his neck as he held her against him all the tighter.
She closed her eyes, soaking up the feeling of relaxing against him her frustrations over Hale and worries over all that Chibs had told her about SAMCRO fading from her mind.
She knew that agreeing to full disclosure about SAMCRO with Chibs was not going to always feel comforting.
She was willing to take on whatever he had to share with her though. She was willing to help him in whatever way he needed. 
She knew she’d most likely set herself down this path when she’d agreed to work with SAMCRO that day at the crematorium. 
She’d not quite envisioned that the path would involve her lips being pressed to that odd Scottish Son’s, but she could find little reason to complain.
She began to run her hand up and down Chibs’ back again, rubbing soothing circles against his spine as she recalled Gemma’s advice.
Love the man, learn to love the club.
Though she was not entirely sure Chibs nor she would say this was love quite this quickly into the relationship, she knew she had to at least appreciate the sentiment behind the advice.
Even if the thought of falling back into the world of SAMCRO scared the hell out of her and filled her with such a sense of dread, Chibs Telford made it worth it.
She was willing to move through this with him and follow his lead because he was worth the fear.
31 notes · View notes
saltminerising · 6 months
Note
People not in earth don't understand the mindset the flight has. We are always pushing. Our Dom heads treat every dead period like a profit push. We have weekly fundraiser scav hunts and our motto is "every week is a Dom week". Co-pushes are just friendly conquests to us. If you think our advantage is because of our size, you just have no idea how deep our Dom culture really goes.
22 notes · View notes
whatbigotspost · 2 years
Text
If you’ve followed me long enough you’ll remember that I’ve got an affinity for offering some unsolicited career advice…and I’ve arrived at one that I’ve got to share.
STOP TRYING SO MUCH. STOP DOING THE MOST.
See, I’ve been a lifelong overachiever, overcommitter, overworker, and overproducer. As a kid, I learned quickly that I could access positive attention (that I lacked elsewhere) by getting an A or doing the most chores and being the most helpful. I strove to be “perfect” however I could and that meant being the best behaved, twisting myself to fit whatever it would take to become the favorite of any adult authority figure I had access to outside my home. Inside my home, getting the best grades I could and the best comments from teachers saved me from how bad the abuse could get.
Being Type A, doing the most, being the dependable one, getting a shiny gold star, filling in the gaps, raising my hand for every new task, going above and beyond, and sacrificing (my own interests, self care, friendships, and rest) was put above all else. My sense of self worth became reduced to what I DO instead of honoring who I am.
I’ve been earning my own money since 1997 and I got what I consider my first “real job” in 2001. Since then, I’ve held more jobs that I can remember as working 2-4 at a time was how I got through my 6 years of higher ed and through my 20s. No matter what the gig was….food, retail, higher ed, office admin, public policy, K-12 school programming, and for the bulk of my professional career, fundraising and nonprofit management……. I’ve prided myself in going above and beyond.
After 20+ years of this exhausting mentality, more recently, I’ve learned about toxic productivity and my own relationship with it. I’ve tried to unravel these mindsets I was given and do what I can to actually honor my own value aside from what I produce. That’s why my biggest and best piece of career is now:
Don't be TOO good at what you do, or everyone, (including you if you're not paying attention) will end up thinking you should handle everything, all the time.
Reflecting on those 20+ years of busting my ass, I’ve come to realize all it gave me, beyond some “employee of the month” type awards is the expectation on teams that I can do more so I should do more. That literally helps no one, most of all myself, so I’m breaking up with my perfectionism and overachieving. (Well, I lied, it does help your boss and they’ll delight in treating you like a productivity machine.)
Ambition like this (directed toward things I’m not joyful doing for myself) is a curse and a trap. Don’t get stuck in it. If I could talk to my 16 or 26 year old self, I’d say: Do less. Do just enough. Step back. Say NO more. And save that extra energy for yourself, on your own time. Thinking that you can be The Best and that you need to work the grind is a scam designed to exploit and extract as much from you as possible. Fuck that.
Now if I can just remember to follow this advice more, I’ll be great.
340 notes · View notes
Maynard Harry Empowering Influence for Social Change
Embark on a digital odyssey with Maynard Harry- The Digital Trailblazer: Maynard Harry's Impact in the Modern Era has increased the importance of social media to grab the attention of the audience. Witness the power of social media as he uses it to make positive changes in the communities and brand promotion.
Let's have a glance at the interesting journey of this remarkable individual from advocate to influencer, and how he has been a boon in the world of influencer marketing.
Tumblr media
Work as an advocate for social causes
Harry's story likely begins with his passion for advocacy. Whether it's environmental issues, social justice, or human rights, Harry has always been deeply involved in causes he cares about. Perhaps he started as a grassroots activist, working with local organizations or participating in community events to raise awareness and incite change.
Harry's story likely begins with his passion for advocacy. He has always worked his level best to solve the issues related to the environment, social justice, and human rights.
Usage of social media for social causes
The development of Maynard Harry: Reinterpreting power in the digital Era through the strategic utilization of social media platforms like Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube to amplify his message. Harry understood social media's power to magnify voices and significantly influence activism and communication. Through captivating storytelling and unwavering passion, Harry conducted discussions on pressing social issues, inviting his audience to join discussions on social issues. He was able to convey his message to the audience and was able to encourage them to make active participation in the discussion.
Empowering Communities
One of the feature that made Harry's a famous digital influenece was his commitment towards his work. He use social media to promot educational content, fundraising initiatives, or partnerships with nonprofits, he actively involves his audience in meaningful causes, encouraging them to take action and make a difference.Ultimately,focus of his work was to build a safe society, improve quality of life, and promote sustainable development by harnessing the collective strengths and capacities of individuals within the community. It's all about making a world a place place to live, where people feel empowered to create positive change and contribute to the well-being of themselves and their community as a whole.
Promoting Brands with Purpose: Harry approaches brand partnerships was quite different from traditional influencers who solely focused on product promotion, but he followed a purpose-driven mindset. He partnered with companies that share his values and are committed to making a positive impact on society and the environment. By altering his content according to the particular brand's audience he convinced them to work for the betterment of the society. Harry not only promotes products but also raises awareness about important issues supported by these brands.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Maynard Harry- The Digital Trailblazer: Maynard Harry's Impact in the Modern Era is quite visible through his journey from advocate to influencer.His journey showcases the power of social media in raising awareness, fostering community engagement, and driving positive change. His journey underscores the importance of authenticity, purpose-driven content, and meaningful partnerships in the field of influencer marketing.
8 notes · View notes
oldfangirl81 · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Bobby, Athena and Eddie stared at the dog then back at May and Buck.
"Okay, start again. Why exactly are you two sharing custody of a dog now?"
"We were dropping off the donations from the fundraiser dispatch did for the animal shelter in honor of Josh's dog," explained May again. "And the volunteers offered to show us around. So we were in the dog kennel area when we heard a frat bro yell from further down." May was clearly struggling to remain calm.
"Yo Dad, come see the f-slur dog," using a typical dudebro voice Buck chimed in before going back to the biting anger he had. "It was clear the volunteer also heard and was uncomfortable. Both May and I were curious just what counted as a gay dog."
"The father and son then proceeded to go on a mocking homophobic rant in front of the dog's kennel. It was starting to upset the dog which was not okay with the volunteer. They tried to interrupt the two men asking them nicely to please lower their voice and watch their language. Which caused both men to focus on the volunteer, a nice gal who had short hair."
"May got her number," Buck whispered to Eddie trying to dodge May's elbow.
"She just wants updates on Buster. Anyway just as they started to go off on how no alphabet mafia is going to tell them what they can say Buck comes to the rescue of the volunteer."
"I decided to intervene, she didn't deserve their disrespect." Buck shrugged.
"Oh he didn't just intervene. He stood at his full height arms crossed over his chest cleared his throat and said 'Excuse me, please move. I am going to adopt that dog. My husband and son will love him'. The men turned with the slur on their lips only to stop as they took in the sight of Buck still in his LAFD uniform."
"Husband? Son?" Asked a very amused Athena.
"Eddie and Christopher. I mean...that's who I was thinking of... I'm going to let May finish." Buck tried to ignore how hard he was blushing while feeling Eddie staring at him.
"It really wasn't much more than that. We weren't actually going to adopt him but he really did immediately come up and lay on Buck's foot after the men fled. The volunteer said he has been up for adoption over 18 months. His previous owners got pregnant and didn't want a dog anymore."
"And the reason you both are on the adoption paperwork?"
"Because I'm renting a room from Buck now. It was just easier to get them to agree since I have more regular hours at dispatch too," shrugged May.
"Okay, but why did you buy every single Pride item that was dog related?" sighed Eddie. "And what is with the wood?"
"Because I was still in proving a point mindset. And I'm building a dog firehouse. We decided Chris can name him because we aren't keeping Buster."
"So we have a dog now? What about your allergies?" Athena was mostly amused by her children.
"I already have an appointment with a doctor for allergy meds and shots if needed."
"One last question. If I'm going to be the stepfather to a dog I demand to be asked out officially by my coparent." Eddie picked up the dog before looking at Buck who was trying to remember how to breath.
"I win!" May just cackled. "I said they'd be husbands before they actually dated."
"Not sure if this counts." But Bobby handed over $50 to both May and Athena.
17 notes · View notes
literaticat · 14 hours
Note
Sorry, just trying to figure out how this works. If an author wins an auction for, say, an editor critique of the first X chapters of a book, and the auction is for charity, is the editor then not allowed to express interest in seeing the book because of ethics standards? What are the rules there?
For AGENTS, we have very specific ethical guidelines set down in the AALA Canon of Ethics -- we cannot charge "reading fees", make representation contingent on paying for editorial services, or otherwise benefit monetarily from reading/editing submissions. The ONLY way we can charge for editorial services is if we separate part from the representation part -- so let's say you pay me to edit your query letter, I either have to make it clear that I can't represent you, OR, if I do want to represent you, I have to give you your money back. (See Clause 8 in the canon).
However, there's a carve-out for just this instance:
"C) The foregoing provisions shall not apply where a member provides services with respect to a non-client’s work if all of the following conditions apply:  I) any payment therefor is made directly to a charity, as part of a fundraising effort for a third party, or to an established educational institution"
In other words, if it is a fundraising auction or something, WE are not benefiting financially, that money is going to charity. So sure, theoretically, there's nothing stopping me from considering the work -- if I LOVE it, I might well be like "oooh... can I read more?" or "oooh, query me!" And that would not be a problem, as long as you were on board with that!
That being said: I wouldn't COUNT on that! Instead, I'd think of this as an opportunity to NOT feel like you have to "show off" for the agent or editor, but rather, try to get as much out of the critique itself as possible. I'll speak for myself and say, I'm not really going into a critique (at a conference, for an auction, or whatever) with a "query-reading mindset" -- I'm going in with a "helping this author out" mindset, you know? So if I don't say "omg please let me rep this" don't be disappointed, because I probably WON'T say that! I very much assume that this is still a work in progress and you aren't ready to query yet! Whenever you ARE ready to officially query, I'd be evaluating the material in a different way.
I can't speak for editors, obviously, because I'm not one, and editors don't have the AALA rules to abide by. I suspect that they would think of these types of situations in a very similar way, though.
(TL;DR: If they absolutely love your sample, they could certainly ask to see more, or tell you to have your agent send when you get one, or whatever they wanted to do. But also, they probably won't be thinking of this critique in that way, so don't get upset if they DON'T say that!)
5 notes · View notes
epitomees · 4 days
Note
Desmond sneaks around snickering to himself, this is gonna be the funniest prank ever. He can't wait to see the birthday girl's face.
Somehow he'd find her when she wasn't paying attention and behind her on a desk, he'd place a Buchimaru doll and a small cake decorated to look like the panda before sneaking out. "Enjoy your special day." It says on the card.
Makoto briefly stepped outside the student council room for a moment, only to conclude a rather lengthy financial discussion pertaining to Shujin's student fundraisers. Lack of sales among each grade meant a lack of funds for the school's extracurricular clubs and sports' team necessities. It didn't make any logical sense in Makoto's mindset, which led to her current dispute allowing the school, itself, to increase their investment in the matter. Slowly but surely she made progress. Not as fast or as immediate as she liked, but patience and passion remained on her side.
The more she pushed, the more chances the school staff would succumb to her demands. It was for the betterment of the school's student body, after all.
Tumblr media
After politely seeing the teachers off, the brunette returned to the room and found herself a colorful display of sweet celebrations. And matching gifts to go with it! A small Buchimaru keychain plush sat next to a Buchimaru-themed cake, dressed and iced exactly like the little mascot panda. The card read a simple, sweet message but with no name to put with the birthday presentation, she felt a smidge sad. "Not many know about my birthday...except for..."
Her friends. The Thieves.
A little surprise from her leader, perhaps? Or something delicately chosen by Ann considering the blonde's sweet tooth knew no bounds? It remained a mystery, but not one needing to be solved. Makoto knew this was meant to be enjoyed. Just for her. “Well...maybe I'll leave a bit of cake behind just in case my 'mystery gifter' wants to participate in the festivities."
2 notes · View notes
and-so-he-rambled · 2 years
Text
Current Martinez headcannons
(I’ll keep updating these as I remember/ think of them)
- He’s good with kids, freaky good. He was a softness to his voice and three younger siblings, and now has a ton of nieces and nephews.
- He can cook! He mostly cooks the dishes his mama taught him, but he tried to learn others. They never turn out like his traditional cooking however and he can only really cook about six dishes properly. They’re amazing dishes, but he struggles learning new recipes.
- He loves animals. Much like with kids he sees them as eternally innocent and to be protected. He pets every animal he can and carries treats. He will punch an animal abuser. He’s been bitten many times by strays and his local walk in knows him by name.
- He definitely volunteered after the flood to help rebuild. The physical stuff was easy, but fishing the dead out was something that still keeps him up at night. He’d seen the dead many times, killed a man during a shootout and shot plenty more, but the flood deaths were a special horror, especially the ones it took a week to find. (He feels a slight guilt for not mentioning the tucker earlier, since he had known it immediately even if he didn’t know the significance.)
- He stayed in temp housing because he let his extended family stay in his apartment. His cousin had too many kids to deal with the stress of shelters, so he decides to deal with them until his cousin can go back home.
- Martinez was a wild child growing up. He was largely unmanaged and always wanted to be heard, which meant causing trouble. It was little things, but he was escalating slowly before he eventually realized the path he was on. His brother was a career criminal and currently serving, he didn’t want to end up like that.
- He had a cop in his life that he respected, and he works every day to emulate that man in his job. Officer Bradshaw, an older cop who cared about the community and had an awesome mustache.
- He didn’t have a father growing up, just a stepdad who he didn’t quite connect with. (His oldest two brothers shared a dad, he and his older sister and younger brother shared a dad, and then the youngest two were that man’s kids.)
- He is genuinely a ray of sunshine, but he also is a very empathetic man. People being hurt makes him hurt, and he hates criminals whose only purpose is to cause pain. He can’t understand that mindset in the slightest, who anyone could just cause misery and enjoy it.
- My man’s would try and throw hands with supervillains regularly.
- Batman is sick of it but it’s always to try and save a life and he knows Martinez is going to keep doing it. He gives him a transmitter and makes him promise to press it before trying to fight another villains. He does, most of the time.
- Martinez can and will verbally castrate. He has the tongue and rage of an angry Latino grandmother and the sass of a teenager. It’s gotten him shot once, Gordon is so tired of this shit.
- The station loves him? He’s a good man and they know it, and he brings in food sometimes. He’s a ray of sunshine and while they regularly tease him and yank his chain, anyone who hurts Martinez will not have a fun time at the station. Martinez is completely unaware of this favoritism.
- His name is Daniel Antonio Montoya Martinez.
- His father was Italian, so he’s half Latino half Italian, but his father sucked and he doesn’t embrace that side of his culture.
- He’s one of those figures that everyone in the community has a story about. “He helped me plant my garden.” “He walked my dog while I was sick.” “He baked cookies for my charity fundraiser.” It baffles Bruce.
- He’s far from perfect. He can be an asshole but he has a big heart, he loves his city. He’d be completely willing to throw down with Batman if it meant protecting the city, even though he’s a tiny bit relived he won’t have to.
- I feel like he has piercings. Daniel had a club phase, and still loves the atmosphere though he mostly is too busy now. I say a belly button piercing, twin surface hip piercings, and maybe a nipple piercing. He wears a retainer for the stomach and hasn’t had the nipple piercing since his late teens. He considers it a fond memory and Bruce chokes on his coffee when he first hears about it.
- He has a sleeve, mostly to cover up the dumb ass tattoos he got as a teen.
- Daniel is a lonely man, so he focuses on the people around him.
- He had an older sister named Katie, she died when he was fifteen. She had been stabbed in a mugging gone wrong and died of sepsis in the hospital a week later. She was sixteen. It broke his family and their faith in Gotham.
- Each year all the siblings pool money to donate in her name to the hospital she died in, specifically their maternity ward. She loved babies, always wanted a ton of them. Mama says she watches over them all now. The hospital established the Katie Martinez fund after the third donation, gave Katie a plaque.
- He understands why his family hates the city, but he can’t leave. He knows there’s more Katie’s out there, more scared kids who need an authority figure to care for them.
- After telling Bruce this story there’s an anonymous donation to the Katie Martinez fund. Daniel is embarrassed but thankful, it’s a sweet gesture and he definitely doesn’t cry shut up.
- Bruce donated to all the charities Daniel gushes to him about. He is involved in a surprising amount. Daniel knows and is careful to choose lesser known charities to talk about that need the funding.
- He knows Selena. She volunteers at the shelter he helps out at. He thinks there something shifty about her and they argue about cats vs dogs funding constantly. (He thinks that the canine program needs more funding because they are bigger animals who have more needs, Selena thinks the feline program needs more because they are higher maintenance and tend to stay longer)
- He loves hearing Bruce’s stories and Bruce is always very interested in his. He shows him each tattoo, what they cover up and why he got them, tells stories of clubs and the hubris of youth.
- Bruce’s stories are more violent and sad, and instead of tattoos he had scars, so many more than Daniel. He maps them all out and learned their stories, pays special attention to the ones in dangerous places because they were so close and it hurts to think too much. He knows there will be more for both of them, they both know, and every day they return to each other in one piece is a good day.
——
@waynebat @wixiany @1n-bl0om I blame you three fuckers for this hyperfixation. I already have three fic drafts and I only watched the movie two days ago.
85 notes · View notes
sea-jello · 1 year
Note
Hello !
I saw the ask you got about drama and copyright issues and maybe me feeling dismissive about drama stems from me just having being involved in theatre for years ??? I think casting is bound to cause some drama in the short term but i dont think anything long term will stem from it
Maybe its me being hopeful and having faith that the fandom based around a musical will be understanding of and respectful towards whatever casting decisions are made seeing as thats kinda just what happens in theatre????? Sometimes you dont get the part you want (if you even get cast at all) and it kinda sucks! But there will always be another opportunity. Shows will be put on again, and you never only have just one chance. Sure not getting the part you want is never and its okay to be sad about it, but sometimes someone else just fits the role better and theres not much that can really be done there. Id like to hope that everyone auditioning goes into it w an open mindset and will take whatever part they get w grace and treat casting like they would casting in a more traditional production (<- is a person who hasnt been active in online musical spaces in a few years. Take my words w a grain of salt i might not know what im talking about here)
If it does genuinely end up being a big issue though, maybe we could do smth w a cast a and a cast b ??? So that way more people get a chance to play a major character. It would be a lot more work as far as audio editing goes, but if theres enough of a want for it a second cast isnt impossible or anything. Itd honestly just take a bit more time to get out
As far as copyright goes thats! Iffier. Its weird and its wonky and itd be a bit of a pain but there are ways to deal w it
The easiest and simplest option is to only have the final version available to those who worked on it directly. No promotion, no making it public, just a fun thing for everyone who worked on it (and maybe their friends), and thats it. Itd be unfortunate to make a project like this so limited, but its the legal option that requires the least amount of effort 😔✌️
The other option would be to obtain the rights to put on the musical. I was curious about how much it would cost and after finding the copyright holders and filling out their mock form, it would come out to about 275 USD ????? Which is a lot! Thats a lot of money to pay out of pocket for a project that likely wont be monetized at all!
But, having said that, 275 starts to feel a lot smaller when you take into consideration how many people are interested in taking part. I think you mentioned about 30 or so people filling out the form??? If those 30 people individually contributed 10 USD (which is smth ive actually seen mandatory for a lot of non profit theatre companies and school shows) we would have some money left over even
275 is really only a lot if its just one person paying for it. I do 100% realize that having a cost would probably change this project a bit just by nature of real life money being involved, but i do still want to point out that its an option if youre willing to take it. Also i want to mention that the mock form said real prices might not be reflected. They didnt have an option for digital shows for where itd be put on, so if location impacts it at all 275 probably wont be the final cost 💔💔 (id like to hope the final cost would be lower though since it does assume the show in question is a more traditional in person show :') )
Also actually now that im thinking about it theres a secret third option which would be to combine the two???? Start out w it being just for everyone who worked on it but then put out a little interest check and fundraiser to see how many people would be interested in buying it. Kinda like what some physical print zines do but just w a musical instead! It would require putting a paywall on the final show which would also be kinda super unfortunate and a massive shame, but if enough people are interested its another way to deal w the licensing fees. Also if the project gets more money than the licensing costs maybe the leftovers could be donated or smth. Idk
Copyright is to me a much bigger issue than casting drama could ever be just bc of the legal issues it could bring up, but there are still definitely definitely ways to get around and deal w them ( ^^)b
(Btw @ the anon who kinda got me thinking about this and led me to send an ask in response, this is nothing against you !! I genuinely think bringing up copyright and potential dramas is a good thing to do especially so early on into a project like this. And running into copyright issues specifically could kill this project faster than anything else could tysm for bring that up genuinely :')
Also op sorry for such a long ask orz )
yeah casting will definitely raise some issues but there are after all only 8 major roles, you said it better than i ever will sjdjgkl also this is literally my first online musical space i got into bmc in like MARCH what am i doing
i actually have been thinking about doing an act 1 cast and an act 2 cast, but thats gonna raise the issue of finding two people with similar voices for one character so its not too jarring. we could totally do it but thats just more work for the casting people i feel. i mean if theyre up for it we could, again we'll just wait and see. there probably would be understudies too, and ive been thinking about having multiple voices for small sections of people who were squipped, like rich in the squip song, or jenna and christine in pitiful children/the play, even the creepy stock guy. there will be one "main" actor but maybe understudies will do underlying voices. will be a little more work for the editors so again we'll see
COPYRIGHT here we go. i really dont want to limit this project so the only option would be to pay. i did a tiny bit of googling and "Section 107 of the Copyright Act provides the statutory framework for determining whether something is a fair use and identifies certain types of uses—such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research—as examples of activities that may qualify as fair use." now if we were doing like one song then that would be fine, but we're attempting to remake the WHOLE THING, so i really think we might have to buy the rights which hm. wow.
i dont know if people are willing to pay 275 dollars for something that might not even succeed, so i think if we go through with this then we work on it first and see our progress. if it looks like we might succeed in actually doing the whole thing then we'll set up a thing for people to donate. to my understanding as long as we buy the rights we can release it to the public?? so as long as we get the 275 dollars we can release it, so it wont be only limited to the people who paid. but if we dont get enough then idk what to do with the money. maybe donate it or just wait until we hit 275. or we set a price and give it to the people who paid, sorta like a vip subscription or something
i actually have SIXTY RESPONSES as of now and its been at 60 for a while so if everyone gives 5 usd then we would have more than enough. ofc not everyone would be willing to pay tho so its really a gamble. i checked out the mock form too and are we even able to buy them if we're producing it digitally?? all that about ticket fees and average attendance if we cant even get the rights then theres no way we can release it to the public
im ngl i dont think i can do the actual licensing so we might need someone to handle finances specifically. also im not even a legal adult i really dont know if i should 💀💀 we gotta find someone responsible
YES everybody say thank you to anon for bringing problems up it would be bad if everyone got hyped only to realize we cant even do it
18 notes · View notes
aliceof1cial · 28 days
Text
The video of Haley Baylee at the Met Gala with the sound "let them eat cake" has been going viral and stirred some controversy - and it's kind of interesting to see people try to dismiss it as Haley just using a viral sound because that's exactly the issue. Haley is able to exist with a mindset that everything exists within a vacuum - that she can post a video of her at a 75,000 dollar event wearing an outfit that probably costs more than that, with the words famously used to propel and incentivize a revolution in which the people of France were starving and dying by the masses, while the rich partied and enjoyed their lavish lifestyles. It is incredibly tone deaf, and it means the exact same thing as it did back then. Whether Marie Antoinette spoke those words or not is not actually the issue - just like Haley Baley's intentions is not the issue. The effect is still there. Ignorant rich people flaunting their wealth while the people below them starve half to death and then doing nothing to help. "Let them eat cake!"
And on that note, none of the celebrities and influencers going to this event give a fuck about the fact that it is a fundraiser - the Met Gala's purpose has evolved beyond that. As it stands, for these celebrities and influences and rich folks, it is just a flaunt of wealth.
4 notes · View notes
irlgoomy · 2 months
Text
Just finished working on another album... This time its somethin for Vast Error. I thiiink I can kinda talk about it since it was soft announced on their fundraiser stream a few weeks ago, and a few previews were posted. Thoughts are under the cut because I dont want to fill up your timelines with this lol.
I *finally* got to do an aspects album! Its something ive been wanting to do ever since I got back into hs in 2018. I just never had the time or reason, or platform to do it.
I kind of consider this album to be a sister to Cyber City Sound Pak. Homestuck and its fanworks, and Undertale/Deltarune are two sides of the same coin in my brain so it just feels natural to consider Duodenary as the other side of Cyber City Sound Pak.
Duodenary, Thats the name of the album, btw.
So I started this right after I released Cyber City Sound Pak... I dont think ive ever worked this hard on back to back releases before. Nose to the grindstone type mindset, lol. To be quite honest, I was certain that I'd burn out real bad after working on this. Duodenary is 14 songs, and an hour and a half long. And I somehow did all of this within 6 months.... Right after finishing up another album of a similar length (Duodenary is longer than CCSP! This is my longest album yet!). I mean, who wouldn't need a break after making like 30 something songs within the span of a year???
I didn't. Instead I think with this album ive finally broken through a mental barrier ive had with music production that I didn't know was there. I feel *renewed*. I want to explore more genres and make stuff outside my current wheelhouse and explore what I can just... Make. I've been trying to force myself to take a break but I really just can't. Not out of the need or pressure to constantly have a project going, but because I'm having a shit ton of fun with it. I feel like all of these projects ive dreamed about doing are finally in my reach, I can finally execute them in a way that i'll be happy with...
(I am however keeping myself from doing any projects outside of personal ones, since jumping into one would absolutely burn me out instantly lmfao. That I know for sure.)
Duodenary doesnt have a release date yet, and I don't want to say what the release window is yet, since that hasnt been announced through official channels yet. It'll be sooner rather than later and I'm really, really freaking excited to share it with everyone.
3 notes · View notes
robinruns · 10 months
Text
Deciding on meals for the week ahead is so hard, but I have decided I'm going to have spaghetti for dinner on Wednesday because that would have been my Dad's 70th birthday. Might get some ice cream too. I should make a big post asking for donations to my fundraiser, but that will require some emotional vulnerability and I've gotta be in the right mindset for that. Which is not right now.
I was considering running my long run this morning but it's still muggy as fuck and I'm currently waiting for my sinus headache meds to kick in fully. I'll probably just go to the gym to cross train. If I do 3 miles plus some kind of cross training, and then do my long run tomorrow, I'll be 100% back on track with my training plan 🙌🏻 I really don't wanna be playing catch up again so it's been motivating.
I've got We Built This City by Starship stuck in my head and I have no idea why.
10 notes · View notes
mightyflamethrower · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Looks like our investment in race hustling is not going to generate any returns. What a big surprise.
A Black Lives Matter activist, who was instrumental in the infamous protest that toppled the statue of Sir Edward Colston, has pleaded guilty to fraud after money donated to a fundraising page she established went missing.
Xahra Saleem, 23, who is also known as Yvonne Maina, pled guilty this month to one count of fraud at the Bristol Crown Court after £30,000 in donations from the public disappeared.
Saleem, a founding member of the BLM-offshoot ‘All Black Lives Bristol’ group, had established an online fundraiser in the days prior to the toppling of the Colston statue, in order to allegedly raise funds for the George Floyd-inspired protest.
According to a report from The Times, the fundraiser promised to donate any additional funds to a local charity to subsidise the cost of a trip to Africa for deprived local children in Bristol. However, the youth group, Changing Your Mindset, claimed that it never received the money and raised the issue with local police. The youth group later shut down entirely after reportedly being disillusioned over the incident.
Tumblr media
Saleem was charged with fraud “while occupying a position, namely organiser, in which you were expected to safeguard or not act against the financial interests of ABL Bristol”.
“You dishonestly abused that position intending to make a gain, namely used the funds raised for yourself,” the charge added.
While a trial was planned for December, Saleem appeared before the Bristol Crown Court on September 19th to plead guilty to the charge. She will be sentenced next month.
Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes