#'listening to pumped up kicks then becoming a teacher.....' WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN

[tandytoaster]

"Pumped up kicks didn't age well" WHY DO YOU THINK IT WAS WRITTEN WHY DO YOU THINK IT WAS WRITTEN‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[bichlordstories]

8: training turns south...

Training wasn’t hard for you, all you had to do was figure out what needed to be improved and then improve it.

It was working with others that wasn’t easy and reading boring textbooks.

More specifically, it was hard dealing with the silver haired prick, Tetsutetsu. One one hand, he does try to work with you, but on the other, his temper makes him flip flop between being tolerable to being a nuisance.

Unfortunately, you didn’t really have a choice.

You knew Sekijiro-sensei was forcing you and the guy to train with one another in a training exercise outside on the field. Although the man didn’t say it outright, you knew he was trying to get you to open up and... bond? With the guy.

“Hit me with your best shot!!!!” Tetsutetsu yelled.

You scowled at the teen and charged him while he charged you back. He wasn’t hard to move around and punch, it was just the fact that his stupid quirk kept him from bleeding.

He quirk turned him into a living metal statue, taking in your blows better than he would without his quirk.

He was the only one in the class that could land some good hits on you and stay standing long enough. He had a higher percentage of being able to take you down.

How did he know this?

Well, he had you bruised up and panting, sometimes collapsing to one knee.

However, the longer the two of you fought, the weaker his metal got... and the stronger you got.

You thought you were pushing your limits when training by yourself, but this reached a whole other level. Due to Tetsutetsu being a challenge, you were breaking new limits you didn’t know were there.

Now, you were discovering something new about yourself, and that was how long you could go against an opponent...

And how more aggressive you get.

As time passed, you grew more and more angry and unpredictable. Your movements became more rapid and you started losing your rhythm.

Tetsutetsu was growing fatigue due to using his quirk for far to long and soon found himself becoming less immune to your punches. Your blood was covering most of the ground and you. Your sweat glands practically squirting out blood.

By now, everyone stopped what they were doing and watched in morbid curiosity and awe at the display.

You were reaching a new height.

A new level.

And unfortunately, like a fledgling flying for the first time, you were losing control.

You uppercut the silver haired teen, sending him in the air a couple feet before he collapsed on the ground. He was no longer moving, clearly unconscious and his quirk deactivated, leaving bruised, pale skin behind.

He was no longer the threat, in your eyes.

But everything else was.

“That was amazing!” Pony exclaimed with a clap of her hands.

Her voice and the sudden clapping sound made you snap your head in her general direction.

Your teeth were bloody and bared and you slowly began approaching her and the brown haired kid next to her. She didn’t even realize the danger she was in as well as a few others, though some could see what was about to happen.

When you were within 10 feet of her, you launched yourself towards the girl with a bellowing war cry. Luckily for the foreigner, a large body made its way in front of her and took the blow to the gut.

Vlad King let out a sharp exhale and stumbled back a bit, bumping into the poor girl before engulfing you into a bear hug.

“Get Aizawa in here, NOW!!!” He yelled and pushed you back enough to let Pony and Kaibara escape.

Kendo ran into the building, leaving the rest to watch in abject horror. Ibara pulled Tetsutetsu’s unconscious body with her hair towards the group and hid him behind them with the help of her classmates.

“The rest of you stay back, I-“ before he could finish, you gut punched him two times and forced him off his feet.

The man quickly used his quirk, engulfing you in a bloody cocoon. You snarled and growled, struggling to get the man’s hardened blood off of you while Vlad scrambled up and pinned you to the ground.

You twisted in his grip, snapping your teeth at him and nearly slipping from his grip. He held you steady, looking down at your enraged expression.

“(L/n), you need to calm down. Deactivate your quirk. Now.”

The adrenaline pumped harder than before, heart racing fast, and muscles tending to the point of pain. Your mind was completely gone, relying purely on instinct, and having your teacher telling you to calm down did not help at all.

“Sekijiro-san!” A voice called.

The man didn’t look up to see who it was, already knowing the boisterous voice belonged to All Might. Aizawa stood behind, still covered in bandages.

The blonde man rushed over and helped to hold your head down, surprised by the fight you put up.

“Are they restrained enough?” Aizawa said in a serious tone.

You snarled at the blonde for holding your head tight, getting blood all over his hands and wrists.

Within seconds, your quirk began to weaken. Blood no longer pumping through your body at a fast rate. It was as though you took a high quality chill pill that took away all your stress and worries.

Your body grew limp and your eyes grew heavy. You couldn’t stop sleep from taking hold of your body, and you stared blankly up at the sky for one last time before closing your eyes.

“Just what the hell was that?”

Sekijiro winced at the scruffy man’s tone. You were currently resting at the nurses, recovering from low iron levels, dehydration, and the filling of your lungs.

Toshinori stood at the coffee maker in silence, listening to the conversation.

“They just... lost it. They never did this before. Sure, they have a temper, but their actions are always directed at the people who got on their bad side.”

In front of the two men sat the principal of UA, Nezu.

He held a file in his paws, reading through it before placing the file down and turning it toward Sekijiro.

“Their quirk heavily involves adrenaline and aggression. Seeing something like today hasn’t been mention before, I would have guessed that this is something new.” The mouse chimera said.

“Kids have discovered new things about their quirks inside and outside of school, either by strengthening themselves or something else. Either way, in most cases, it’s on accident.” He placed his paws together.

“So the kid is the embodiment of a ticking time bomb? Tch, troublesome.” Aizawa muttered the last part under his breathe.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Nezu cocked his head.

“That kid has apparent anger issues. Unlike the kid in my class, Bakugou, (L/n) is more unpredictable.” He said before turning to Sekijiro.

“You said it yourself, they have physically harmed others, correct?”

“W-well, that’s just a little exaggerated, I mean, they haven’t necessarily beat someone up...” he tried to defend you.

“But today, they attacked you.” Aizawa stared bluntly.

“They... they aren’t sadistic. And they’re a good kid, I’ve seen how they act when they aren’t inconvenienced-“ he said but stopped when he felt he was getting nowhere.

“You’re getting attached, Sekijiro-san.” Aizawa stated.

Toshinori stared at his steaming black coffee but didn’t reach out to grab it. His body was ridged and he was ready to butt in at some point. A sigh rang into the air, catching the men’s attention.

“...but... I’ll admit that I do see something in them.” Aizawa muttered.

“They aren’t a bad person, but they are dangerous. It’s obvious that they don’t have complete control over their quirk, nor their behavior, so...” Nezu said before taking a sip out of his tea cup.

“Sekijiro-san, I’m going to need you to train with (L/n) during your tutoring. Help them blow off steam, redirect their aggression.” He said, earning a nod from the larger man.

“Mister Nezu.”

The two men and mouse turned to the deflated blonde.

“If they have another incident like this... will they be kicked from the program?” Toshinori asked, afraid of the answer.

“That would be last resort, Yagi-san. If they have another incident, we would have to put them into counseling.” Nezu said while waving this off.

“(L/n) isn’t someone we want to pass up on. They have great potential, they are astounding when it comes to combat... they could do better in math and writing... and they work well with others despite their antisocial traits.” Nezu clapped his paws together and stood up.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some tea to taste test.” The principal said and left the three men in the teachers lounge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nezu has his priorities straight!

Sorry about the short chapter... don’t worry though, it’ll get good, especially in the sports festival arc.

[stetervault]

Hello! Do you do rec lists? Would you be willing rec some Steter fics that aren't the most common/popular ones? If not, no worries!

Technically this isn’t a rec-finding blog lol but I do make rec lists sometimes if someone asks and I have the time and I feel like it. Here are some (I think?) less known Steter fics, oldies that people may have missed or forgotten (Idk how well I succeeded, I just picked a bunch that have significantly less reads/bookmarks than the really big fics):

Fear (Doesn't Mean I Can't Fight) by azerblazer

Peter is the damsel in distress, the Sheriff is the hostage, random unnamed hunters are the bad guys.

Stiles has a bat, a hoodie and a willingness to do anything to protect those he's loyal to.

Bring it on.

A Lean and Hungry Look by kototyph

The woods aren't the only place you find wolves.

You're Mine, Valentine by orphan_account

In which Peter decides to court Stiles, and does so by leaving him hearts.

Bloody ones.

Zodiac by Green

"You know, Taurus and Libra make a good match," Peter says with a sly smile.

Stiles looks away. "Yeah. I looked that up, too."

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

He Is A Villain By The Devil's Law by neglectedtuesday

Stiles’ lungs are burning, blood is pumping through his veins and he’s pretty sure that if he stops running then he’ll just keel over into the gutter. But God does he feel alive. The sirens are wailing, loud and clear. Just one more block. One more block. Stiles ducks down an alleyway, the bag full of bank notes swinging behind him. It hits his side with a dull thud. The alley smells like cat pee and yesterdays trash so Stiles breathes shallowly through his mouth. He continues walking down it until he reaches the end. It opens out onto the street. He stops just shy of the exit, waiting. He waits a bit more. Then he kicks a can lying idle on the ground. He whips out his burner phone, punching in a number.

“Where the fuck are you?” Stiles growls, “Where’s my goddamn getaway car?”

“Change of plans Stilinski, you’re gonna have to get away on your own. Also ditch the phone.”

Fascinated by lemonstiles, migratoryslashfan

Stiles pontificates over Peter's naked body.

Night-blooming Flowers by imriebelow

Peter always gets what he wants. Stiles learns to live with it.

None of These Things (Are Happening) by Horribibble

After years away, Stiles returns to Beacon Hills just in time to put Isaac's insides back where they belong.

It's cute how people think he's trustworthy.

-

Peter can smell the violence inside him, the urge to do something grand and possibly cataclysmic. It’s there—mixed with a balance and natural calm, but in the undercurrent, it’s there. He has seen things beyond the scope of Beacon Hills’ petty horror show. He has learned things.

The Terrible Things We Do (For Love) by rospeaks

Being a demon, he’s seen some of the pretty nasty things that humans are willing to do for love. Things that, were he still alive (and human), would make him hesitate to be in a relationship with anyone lest his partner start getting some funny ideas. That said—

"This seems a little desperate for a kid your age," he says to Stiles.

Spin, Sweet Clotho by ChuckleVoodoos

Oh, it’s a beautiful thing to watch, the way they dance around each other, spun in sugar and glittering glass. Like a fragile little fairytale, a tender rosebud just waiting to unfurl. It makes Peter sick.

Because love is a fairytale, and his dear darling nephew does not deserve a happy ending.

whisper by tricksterity

Stiles was tired.

He was done of people pushing him and his pack around. They’d already lost so much and he was damned if he’d let them lose anyone else, especially to this psychopath who had no reasons for what he did other than he liked it.

And that’s when the whispers in his mind grew louder.

Remember Darling, All the While by Sang_argente

It was fire, ice, electricity. It was the first kiss, the last kiss, and every kiss inbetween. It was lips parting, tongues sliding, hearts beating.

Impress Me by ToAStranger

Their new English teacher has gone missing.

Falling Upward by moonstalker24

There is nothing quite like flying. There is a calm and a peace found in the sky that cannot be found on earth. All the chaos of the world is below you and there is no sound save that which the propeller makes as the engine turns it. You are free and unfettered and the clouds are close enough to touch; all you need do is stretch out your hand to grasp them.

Stiles takes Peter flying after he gets out of Eichen House.

Sweeter Than Gingerbread by taylorpotato (Stetallison)

The saying goes that lovers who commit suicide together start their next life as twins. Perhaps that's why Stiles and Ally feel the way they do about each other.

The Shadow Effect by Mysenia

What was the fun in being a twin if you couldn't trick a person or two?

Deep under by Sashaya

There's a reason Stiles knows so much about drowning. He'd rather not remember why...

All the World's a Stage (but the light design is subpar) by BonesOfBirdWings

Peter Hale is a successful Off-Broadway actor, and Stiles is a stage lighter who literally falls into his life.

Peter smiled at him. "Thank you, Stiles. But should I take this to mean that you don't want a meatball sandwich from Banh Mi Saigon?"

Stiles' mouth dropped open. "You - I - Yes, I want! Oh my god, you do the best apologies! Can you piss me off more, please? I accept all future apologies enthusiastically!"

Peter chuckled. "I'm sure that won't be a problem, dear boy. I've been informed that I'm an asshole by a very reliable source."

Stiles beamed. "But you have good taste in food, so things balance out?" he ventured.

Peter threw back his head and laughed. Stiles' grin brightened in answer.

The D.C. Backroom Deal by septima_sum

Stiles is a regular prostitute with moderate life goals – until his current client makes him an offer he can’t refuse.

Strange Duet by BelleAmante, thiliart (thilia)

The past three years have been a series of shocking, or not so shocking, successes for 2018 Tony award winner and two time Grammy nominee, Stiles Stilinski. You don’t typically find classically trained opera singers singing alternative folk rock to crowds at Coachella. Nor do you find indie singer/songwriters winning best actor awards at the Tony’s for their Broadway debuts. Stilinski has made it his lifetime habit to defy and exceed all expectations.

-or-

A Steter fic loosely based on Phantom of the Opera

Hold Me Down by sneksonaplane

Waking up in Peter Hale’s bed was weird. Waking up in Peter Hale’s body was even weirder. Stiles had been disoriented and confused when he’d found himself in a plush, king sized bed in an unfamiliar bedroom instead of in his own room (and seriously, why did Peter even need a king sized bed? Why would anyone need a bed that big?) It had all come back to him when he’d glimpsed the body he was inhabiting, one that was shorter but more defined than his own, and older, and kind of hot.

OR

The one where Stiles and Peter swap bodies, Peter relives his adolescence, Stiles suffers, and then suffers a little less when he discovers Peter's fetlife profile where he's listed as a submissive seeking a daddy.

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night by Guede

This is a ghost story. It’s not straightforward.

Put My Faith in Something Unknown by Twisted_Mind

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, suspended between thought and action, unable to feel. At some point, he becomes aware that there’s a hand on his face. A warm palm cradles his jaw, and a thumb brushes across his cheekbone tenderly.

The Rest of Our Lives by mia6363

“I don’t know, as a kid I watched a lot of movies, you know? And at first I figured like… I’d be on some great adventure that would take me away from it all, you know? Like Indiana Jones comes around and is all, ‘Hey Stiles, buddy, come with me we’ve got to go save the world.’ Then… you and… everything happened… then I just… I figured I’d die before I was eighteen.”

Enemy Action by pprfaith

Once is chance, twice is coincidence and three times is far too many bodies on the ground.

Buy Me a New Pair by Julibean19

"I don't practice law much these days."

"And why is that?" Stiles asked, wondering why a handsome and presumably successful lawyer wouldn't want to continue working.

"I've been drawn away by more pleasurable pursuits," Peter said, lips quirked upward as he spoke.

Tale as Old as Time by wynnebat

The one in which Lydia's got better things to do than be Belle, Stiles is a much more likeable Gaston, and Peter is a beast but not quite beastly.

The clothes make the man by FeelingsDusk

The trick to sneaking into a building where you shouldn’t be is to make it seem to all eyes like you should. Stiles has been doing this since he was a little older than toddler and he wanted to get back his Batman action figure from the evidence room in his dad’s Police Station.

(Spolier alert: just like back then, Stiles gets caught.)

Smile Like You Mean It by NinaRooxx

After sulking about the changing weather over the autumn, Stiles notices that despite the weather getting colder, Peter’s wardrobe isn’t changing at all.

Swing by ShippersList

Stiles wants to fly.

Angels, Devils, and Peter by Triangulum

Everyone has an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. They give advice, help guide their human through life. They tempt, they listen, they offer help. Everyone has one of each. Everyone except for Stiles.

OR

Stiles and Peter are murder husbands.

love and madness by sinequanon

Peter and Stiles haven’t seen each other in months when the alphas ask them to meet up to look over an abandoned house. Now, they’re going to be seeing a lot of each other for quite a while to come.

Not This Again by RebaK1tten

There's a rumor that the last episode of the show will have Peter getting killed, again. Perhaps to give him a redemption arc or something.

A Light at the (Near) End of the World by ladyoneill

The world he grew up in has ended in a supernatural war that devastated the human population. A survivor, Stiles lives a solitary, quiet life in Wales until there's a knock on his door.

Through Space and Time by MaroonDragon

When Stiles pulls the body of Peter Hale into his ship, he doesn't expect him to be alive. He also doesn't realise he might have gotten more than he bargained for.

His Color by SushiOwl

“Darling, have you been carrying a throw-away comment I made in your mind for almost four months?”

Stiles’s face felt like it was one with fire now.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

Looking After You by Slayer_of_Destiny

Can Peter be a chance for Stiles, can Stiles be a second chance for Peter? When Peter offers Stiles a relationship will the younger man take the chance with the werewolf?

Maybe We Both Are by lavenderlotion

The first time Stiles lets his fingers brush against Peter he wasn’t expecting the response he got. They were sitting on Stiles bed researching something. Or, they were researching. Now they were just talking. They did that a lot these days, just talked. They also ate together a lot. Or got coffee.

these words bear my scars (paint your love on my skin) by WindyRein

One day butterflies and childish codes change to I'm sorry you're meant for a murderer and he won't realize for years how much that changed his life.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

The Lady of Lightning by kiranightshade

"Those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside"

Can You Use Lube For That? by AlreadyBoss

“You think your what is haunted now?” Surely he'd misheard. There was no way-

“My vibrator,” Stiles answered with alarming sincerity.

Well. He hadn't misheard after all.

Pianist Envy by Bunnywest

Stiles is the piano player.Peter can think of other things he'd like to see those hands do.Shame the guy's straight.

Everything You Deserve by Areiton

You think about it. More than you should, you think about it. About what would have happened, if you had bitten Stiles instead of Scott.

Home by Ragga

Don't be like him, they would say, and then add, or else you get burned.

Unable to bear the whispers any longer, This One left. He forsook those who forsook him, left him bear his scars alone, the scars he bore for his herd. It was better to be alone, stay off the currents, than swim with those most undeserving of his loyalty. So mote it be.

That is, until he met That One.

Lord Peter by Therapeutic_Steter

Peter rung out the rag before gently placing it on his mother’s head, reaching over to feel his father’s equally flushed features.

“Such a good boy,” his mother said, patting his arm with what little strength she had remaining. His father smiled softly at him even as his fell unconscious. Peter pushed back the lump in his throat, smiling shakily for his mother before venturing out into the living space.

knit me together by nezstorm

Peter asks Stiles to stay the night after a really awful day.

Warriors by CinnamonLily

Peter is ten years old when humans discover Azure, a planet not unlike Earth. From there on, he wants to learn everything about their new neighbors and the planet itself. It takes him over twenty years to get to Azure, but when he does, it's so worth it. His anthropologist heart is happy, and a new acquaintance in the form of an Azurian called Stiles might just make the rest of him happy, too.

[98prilla]

Collisions

AO3

This idea hit me at like 1am, and I really like how it turned out. 

...

He was a star.

 A brilliant, shining ball of light in the endless darkness of the universe.

 A magnetic pull so strong surely nothing could escape his orbit.

 He was bright and warm and so, so distant.

 He was impossible.

 It was impossible.

 He’d never known the meaning of the word impossible.

 That’s how they got here, he supposes.

 The star is so bright, right now, speaking, saying words, no doubt smart words, he always was the smartest person in the room, and he seemed to glow, a brilliant, blazing white, though that could just be the reflection of the street lamp off the wet pavement.

 His ears were ringing. Which was a shame, really, because he wanted to hear what the star was saying to him, what marvelous poetry was leaving his lips, but he couldn’t hear anything.

 That’s not true. Not entirely. He could hear something. It was almost like the bass coming out of a stereo turned too loud, the thumping of a steady beat, slowly becoming erratic and wrong, out of pace with the rest of the song.

 He felt wet. Warm wet. Not the rain. The rain was cold. It made him shiver, it felt like needles, against his skin. He saw a hint of red, tried to turn his head to see more, to get a glimpse, but the star stopped him, held him still.

 The star was looking into his eyes, almost desperately, pleadingly, and his lips were moving, but for all the suns in the universe, he couldn’t make out anything, even trying to read his lips was a blur, everything was a blur.

 There was that beat again. It fluttered like a snare, now, rat a tatting against his ribcage, and he realized it must be his heart. Idly, he thought hearts aren’t supposed to beat like that.

 Then again, people aren’t supposed to be hit by cars, are they? They’re not made for the force of that impact, to go flying over windshields, to go crashing against glass, to have bones turned at sharp angles and blood in their lungs.

 Oh.

 Was that it?

 It must be.

He dimly remembered something like that. Rain, clouds, drizzle, the star, walking, head in a book, and the car was speeding, going at least 45 down a main street in the small downtown, and the star had stepped off the curb, and the car had come down the street, and he’d had a moment to do something, or not.

 And of course, he acted.

 Of course, he shoved the star out of the way.

 Of course, he went flying head over heels, just as he’d fallen for the star, who in all likelihood, didn’t even know his name.

 That didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that the star didn’t know him. The star was so bright, so brilliant, he couldn’t stand to see it dimmed, see it extinguished, not when it knew so much about so much, not when he was the smartest person he knew, not when he could listen to the star speak for hours and hours about ecosystems, the universe, the world, the concept of identity itself, he’d chosen most of his classes hoping they were the ones the star would take, because he loved to listen to him speak, he often knew more than the teachers did, and anyways, it’s not like he had a plan.

 Not like he’d had much of a future, even before he became a human pancake.

 For some reason that though made him grin, though he felt blood on his tongue, coating his teeth.

 And they said Roman was the hero, well. His last act of brotherly spite would be to steal Roman’s blurb in the year book, hero student saves local star from car crash, the universe thanks him for it. God, it would be a nightmare trying to find a presentable picture of himself for it, one where he wasn’t covered in paint or goo or some other substance, he’d made for his art.

 He heard something. It was loud enough it could reach through his haze, reach through his ears, he recognized it as sirens, and suddenly strobing light illuminated the star from behind his closed lids, huh, when had he closed his eyes?

 “-us. Remus. Stay. Awake. You need to stay awake.” He jolted at that, eyes flying open, like a shot of adrenaline to his heart, because everything blurred and colors seeped into each other like an oversaturated watercolor painting, but Star had said his name, knew his name, and though his limbs were numb and tingling, he could feel a hand in his, squeezing tight.

 He coughed, spitting, feeling himself start to shake, unable to stop, the tremors racing through him, like his own personal earthquake, tearing down his buildings and starting his mind on fire, as it struggled to regain balance, regain composure, but his heart was racing, on the verge of giving out, and it hurt like hell to breathe, and the world was fading out around him, and distantly, he heard shouting, heard loud beeping growing more frantic, heard his star begging him to stay awake, but he couldn’t.

 He just…

 Couldn’t.

…

“-male severe trauma-"

“-coding-"

“-internal bleeding…. Can’t see where-“

…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

 Wow, that noise was annoying.

 A snuffling sound, muted, someone trying to stifle their sobs.

 Heh. He must still be dreaming. No one would cry over him.

 He might cry though, because despite the wonderful painkillers he was no doubt being pumped full of, he hurt like a son of a bitch.

 He must have made some movement, some small sound, because suddenly there was a hand on his arm, a presence near him, and he’d recognize that feel anywhere.

 “Remus. Remus you better not give up on me, you hear me? I swear, I swear, I will hunt you down and kill you again if you die here. Jumped in front of a car, who does that, who jumps in front of a car!?” Roman was still talking, but he couldn’t hear him anymore.

 His thoughts fizzled out as the beeping stopped, becoming one long tone. He could almost hear yelling, almost feel something jolt his chest, almost hear Roman, screaming, but he didn’t.

 He fell back into darkness.

…

Tumbling.

 Tumbling through time and space and memories.

 Here he and Roman played with each other, well, tried to. Roman kept building lego towers, and he kept playing Godzilla, stomping and kicking and roaring as he destroyed Roman’s painstaking creations. It always ended in a fight.

 Here it was their first day of school, and some bully made fun of Roman because he was anxious and cried when their mom left them there. Not ten minutes later she got a call from the principle. Because he’d punched the bitch in the face and nearly broken his nose. Called him a bitch to his face, too, but he didn’t care about the trouble. It made Roman smile.  

 Here it was the start of the end of the two of them as a duo, their first day of high school. Roman fit in so well, with his perfect smile and talent for art and theater and music that was finally appreciated, and there wasn’t room for him anymore, with his unbrushed hair, his wild smile, his blurting mouth, his twisted drawings and horrored paintings, he was just the wierdo, the outcast, the no good brother that always was in some kind of trouble.

 Here Roman was yelling at him. They were having a fight.

 “Why can’t you just be normal for once!?” Roman had shouted, and despite the pain in his chest he forced back his tears, because everyone else hated him or was scared of him or thought he was just going nowhere but he’d thought Roman still cared.

 “Because that’s not who I am! What do you want me to do, Roman?!” He’d yelled back.

 “I want you to stop embarrassing me for a single fucking second!” He’d frozen, reeling back, that stung more than anything else, it broke something inside him, and he felt wetness dripping down his face, felt like screaming, but his breath was caught in his throat.

 He turned and walked out the door.

 There wasn’t anything else he could do.

 If Roman wanted to hurt him that way, fine. Fine, he could take it, he had taken it, from everyone else, it had been stupid to assume just because Roman was his twin that he wouldn’t get sick of him eventually, just like everyone else. It was stupid to hope Roman wanted him around. Stupid to hope Roman liked him.

 So he just walked away. Because if he stayed a moment longer, he’d say something back, say something cruel, and he refused to do that, even now, refused to hurt Roman, who didn’t deserve it.

 That’s why he’d been outside the library, angrily staring at his sketchbook, hands shaking, vision blurred.

 That’s why he’d seen Logan, his star, his universe, his planet, exit the building, lost in a book.

 That’s why his gaze had followed him as he stepped off the pavement, as the car zoomed at least 20 miles over the speed limit, down the street.

 That’s why he’d leapt off his feet and gone running, shoving Logan out of the way, everything moving too fast and too slow as the car tried to brake, but there wasn’t enough time, and he couldn’t help laughing a little, inside, because of course. Of course this would happen to him.

…

 Words.

 Words. A voice. A voice speaking. No.

 Reading. A voice reading.

 It sounded a bit shaky.

 That seemed odd, for some reason. He knew that voice, but he couldn’t remember ever hearing it sound anything less than absolutely sure of itself.  

 It also seemed odd that it would be here, in this… hospital? Must be, nowhere else smelled like plastic gloves and bleach. Well. He could name a few other places that probably smelled like that, but he doubted an ambulance would deliver him to the nearest clean freaks’ orgy.

 Back to the voice. Something about the universe. Something about planets. Something about… stars.

 It took him a long few minutes, to open his eyes. So long, he started to wonder if he even had eyes, or if he was doomed to darkness forever, but still, he struggled to the surface of awareness, if just barely, the world still fuzzed and blurred around the edges, like an old photograph corroded by time and sunlight.

 Not quite sepia. Not quite gray. Just a paleish, tannish, muddled, mess.

 White ceiling. White bed, white sheets, white everything, jesus, was he in a hospital or abducted by aliens? No wonder these people were doctors, no appreciation for art among them, apparently. He already had about a dozen mural designs sketched out in his head, at least four of which would actually be pg enough for a hospital room.

 The voice. The voice had stopped.

 He managed to turn his head, though it took all the effort in the world, that simple motion, and met the wide eyed stare of Logan Star, his star, his universe, his planet, his orbit, not that Logan knew it. Not that anyone did.

 “You’re awake.” Logan said, a bit breathless, a bit afraid, a bit relieved. He managed a small smile, letting out a deep sigh that had him wincing at the pull in his chest.

 “Such a disappointment, I know. Don’t tell my parents, give them a few more hours of peace.” He said flippantly, an ache settling into his bones. Logan made a noise half between a strangled kitten struggling for air and an exasperated goose honking.

  “remus. You almost died. Multiple times. They… the doctors weren’t sure you were going to wake up. Ever.” He laughed at that, wincing at the pain it caused, turning his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

 “well. What difference would it have made? It would almost have been better, if I didn’t wake up. ‘S not like I have a future. Not like anyone would care.” His words started to slur, exhaustion washing over him, but he was afraid, suddenly afraid, to fall back asleep, because what if he didn’t wake up again, after all? “Would ya tell Ro I know he’s sorry, and ‘s okay? I know he didn’t mean it. Well, no, he meant it, but I… understand. He’s right, about me. Always… always is.” He thought he felt a hand slip into his, felt the bed dip slightly, felt a hand stroking his hair, as he slipped back under.

…

He’s lost.

 It was dark all around him, and he’s lost. He couldn’t find the path, couldn’t find the way out, he was trapped down, down, down in the dark again, and he felt himself start to panic, because he didn’t want to be here, it was too small and too dark and too deep and he wanted OUT!

 A voice. No. Two voices, talking lowly, talking quietly, almost afraid. He knew them, he needed them, he needed them to be louder, he needed to follow them out of here. He could feel the dark swirling around him, trying to drag him back under, clogging his lungs and throat so he couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, and he’s going to drown-

 A hand. A hand in his. An anchor. He gripped it like a drowning man, that’s what he was, even if it’s not quite water that was filling his lungs, he used it to haul himself to the surface of the waves, used it to steady himself against the roiling of his own mind, trying to wash him away, and someone was speaking again, the voice of the universe, the planets, the stars.

 “R’man?” He slurred, blearily looking up at the hazel eyes of his brother, his twin, who was gripping his hand so tight his knuckles had turned white, then Roman let out a soft sound of despair and hope and carefully, slowly, helped him to sit up, hugging him tight. He didn’t understand why Roman suddenly cared so much, but it was nice, being hugged, so he leaned into it, let it happen, felt himself calm at the gesture, centering him.

 “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ree, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, and I’ve been so shitty, I’ve been the worst brother, I should have stood up for you, like you always did, always do, for me, instead I pushed you away. I almost lost you. I almost lost you and the last things I said to you were horrible. I love you. I’m so sorry, Remus, I love you.” Roman’s voice was choked, and he was surprised to find his own tears falling as he buried his head against Roman’s shoulder, crying as he felt Roman softly rocking back and forth.

 “s not your fault. I’ve always been a screw up, Ro. It’s no wonder you don’t want me around, anymore.”

 “No! Remus… Remus no. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. I want you. I want you around, I want to spend all day fighting with you over stupid shit, I want to see you come careening down the stairs in clothes not even remotely matching and march out the door to school without even brushing your hair, I want to wake up at 2am to you blaring German death metal or hanging upside down from my ceiling or… or whatever other weird shit you constantly think up, I want every moment I can possibly get with you, because I… I never thought… I can’t… I can’t lose you, Ree. What am I supposed to do, if I lose you?” Roman’s voice was small and shattered, and he pressed himself closer against his twin, huge, silent tears dripping down his face. “I never want you to leave, Remus. Never.” Roman whispered, hugging him tighter, and he ignored the spasm of pain it sent through his body, because it felt so good, in all other respects.

 “Careful, Ro, I’m almost starting to think you actually like me, or something.” He mumbled, feeling Roman let out a breathy, hiccupping laugh/sob.

 “I do. So much, Remus, I do.” Roman replied, pulling back, face a mess, tear stained and disheveled, and it looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. But there was a smile, small and fragile, on his face, and Remus couldn’t help but mirror it.

 “you promise?” He asked, voice a barely there whisper, watching Roman’s face turn serious, as he met his eyes.

 “I promise. I promise, Ree. Now. I think, you two, should talk.” Roman said, tentatively getting up, and Remus had almost forgotten there was another person in the room until Logan cleared his throat, stepping around Roman and sitting stiffly in the chair beside his bed, as Roman mouthed good luck, and vanished out the door, under the guise of getting them all something to eat, and checking in with the nurses and doctors.

 He sighed, staring back up at the white ceiling, almost afraid to meet Logan’s eyes, to look at his face, he didn’t know what to expect, and for some reason that scared him more than dying.

 “why?” Was the soft question, one he hadn’t expected, and he shifted, turning to look at Logan, who was looking down at his lap, hands creasing and uncreasing a tissue repetitively.

 “why what?” He asked, though he knew. Logan did look up then, something curious and almost angry in his eyes, though his face was unreadable.

 “Why did you push me out of the way? Why… why did you choose my life over yours?” He barely resists rolling his eyes, though he’s unable to stifle a scoff.

 “Why wouldn’t I? You… have a future. You’ve probably got colleges slitting each other’s throats to have you, professors already trying to recruit you to their programs, and most people with that opportunity I’d hate and want to strangle because they’re pretentious, pompous, loaded pricks! But… you aren’t. You’re smart. You’ve earned it. You deserve it. You… can actually do something, with your life, you will, because you don’t do anything unless it has actual effects. Because you’re brilliant, and burning with potential, and burning with kindness, and burning with curiosity and it’s like… like a light, in the shitty world we live in, when you learn something new, it lights up the cosmos, that look on your face.

You’re a star, Logan. An actual, burning, brilliant, ball of energy and light and expansion and one day you’ll explode like a supernova and make something truly, purely, incredible.

And I? I’ll just be bumming it on the streets somewhere, because that’s all I’m good at. Fucking everything up. So yeah. It wasn’t even a question of you or me, it wasn’t even a choice, I didn’t think about it, I just acted, because even if I had died, it didn’t matter. Not… not like you dying would. Not how you dying would matter, to me.” He looked away again, shame welling in his throat, hot tears slipping down his cheeks, because he always ruined everything, didn’t he?

 “remus. It would matter. If you died, it would matter.” He let out a hollow laugh, too weak to even reach up and wipe away his tears.

 “Would it? I’ve thought a lot about this, Lo. I’ve thought over how I could do it, where I could do it, when would be the best time. It’s at the bottom of my to do list, really, and I just keep finding another reason to push it off. It’s come down to the timing, truly. I don’t want it to upset anyone too badly, I don’t want it to mar an important holiday or anniversary, I don’t want to leave them to clean up my mess, but I want them to be able to find me.

Leaving a note, or maybe sending a time delayed text with my location, was my thought. Maybe jumping off one of the cliffs in the park, but I didn’t want some poor hiker to get traumatized. Maybe jumping into the sea, drowning, but then they wouldn’t have my body to bury. And it would be too messy to just cut my wrists open, then they’d have to clean up the blood, and god, won’t that be a mess? So very Me, of me, I suppose, to leave them one last work of art to scrub off the floor. One last piece no one wanted anyway, to be discarded.

They’d be sad, but they’d move on pretty fast. Too much going on to not. Roman, going to art school, my parents, barely home anyways, with how often they work, and it’s not like I’ve got any friends. Roman’s got plenty of those, plenty of people to prop him up, once I’m gone. So yeah, me dying has pretty much a null effect on the universe.”

 “Remus.” There was something oh so soft, too soft, in Logan’s voice, and he kept his head firmly turned away, unwilling to see the pity and horror and disgust in those brilliant green eyes of his. “Remus, the chances of you existing at all are infitesimal. The chances of you living in this moment, are so slim as to be nearly nonexistent. Of course, it matters, even if you think it doesn’t, even if you believe erroneously it doesn’t matter to Roman, it matters to me.” There was a desperate edge to Logan’s voice, a break to it, that cracked through his calm exterior to his frantic heart, and Remus found his head being gently turned, the soft touch not moving away as his eyes met Logan’s, round and huge behind his glasses.

 “Your art is beautiful. I never really understood it, I still don’t, but looking at it, I know how long it takes to make, I know how painstaking it is, and that’s what makes it beautiful, makes every drop of ink or brushstroke a masterpiece. You throw yourself head first into everything you do, with no second thoughts or rationality and it’s both infuriating and amazing, because I could never fully figure you out. Some days you are loud and boisterous, and almost more flirtatious than Roman, definitely more dangerous, than Roman, and others day you’re silent and still, like the moment before the lightning crashes, the second before the twister sets down, and I want nothing more than to know what exactly you’re thinking in that moment, what is about to send you over the edge, I want to know why you think you’re so worthless, when I watch you be incredible day after day, no matter what anyone else says or thinks or teases or comments, you somehow manage to just stay yourself, and I wish I knew how you did it. I wish you knew, how perfect you really, truly, are.” He didn’t protest, as Logan’s lips met his, soft and careful and tentative, only a brush, really, but when Logan went to pull back, he managed to move his arm, managed to weakly grab hold of Logan’s.

 “please. Please stay. I don’t… it’s so dark… I don’t…” He was losing it, he could tell he was, he was slipping, and the dark was so much darker now, so much deeper, and if he fell, he didn’t know how long he could stay afloat.

 “of course.” His eyes had slipped closed, but he felt Logan carefully shifting him, before slipping onto the bed beside him, and he sighed, as Logan nestled against him, his head in the crook of his shoulder, a solid, calming weight against his back, holding him close.  

 “Wha’s wrong with me, xactly?” He slurred.

 “I don’t know the full list. Punctured lung, broken ribs, broken arm, broken leg, concussion, internal organ trauma, they said… they said they nearly lost you four times total, before you stayed in stable, if severe, condition. The first time you woke, you’d been in a coma for a full week. There wasn’t anything wrong with you, necessarily, you just… wouldn’t wake up.”

 “was stuck. Was you, woke me. Reading, somthin bout space.” He smiled, feeling Logan tuck back a strand of his hair, his hand brushing gently against his cheek.

 “Lonely planet’s guide to the universe. I thought… I just… I didn’t want you to think you were alone. I wanted to give you a reason to wake up. I just didn’t know how badly you needed one.”

 “I love you.” He blurted, unceremoniously, too tired to care about the consequences, his stupid mouth always speaking without his stupid brain’s stupid permission. But if he’d kept it in one moment longer, he was sure he’d explode. The silence seemed to last forever, before he realized it was because Logan was crying, and with effort, he managed to roll himself over, so he was face to face with his star.

 “I love you.” Logan said, raw sincerity burning in his throat, as he pressed their foreheads together, as his hands rested around his waist, pulling him gently close once more, this time tucking his head down against Logan’s chest, feeling him press a soft kiss to his head. “I love you, Remus. And you very nearly didn’t give me a chance to say it.”

 “what can I say? ‘M a stupid bitch.” He mumbled, half asleep already, smiling as he felt Logan’s laugh rumbling through his chest, melting more as he felt a hand carding through his hair, one still draped across his waist, anchoring him steady against the dark.

 He’d been wrong.

 Logan wasn’t a star.

 They were both planets.

 Orbiting each other, caught in the pull of gravity, slowly being pulled closer and closer-

 Until they collided.

[tanakavox]

Sequal to the post I posted yesterday.

What the hell are you doing here?!" Oscar and the pretty brown-haired girl, Velvet covered their ears as Jaune shouted. The young boy looked up to Jaune a bit scared.

"I followed you to school?" He said uncertainty.

Jaune growled at Oscar. "I can see that!"

At that moment, Velvet decided to speak up. "Is this your little brother Jaune? He's cute." She said with a smile as she ruffled Oscar's hair a bit.

Jaune picked up Oscar and tucked him under his arm. "No, he's a pain in the ass and it's time to say goodbye to him. Before Velvet could respond, he walked away with Oscar in tow without a word.

"Bye Velvet! I'll make sure Jaune comes to school more!" Oscar shouted to her.

Velvet smiled sadly as she watches Jaune's form leaves her sight. xoxoxoxo

"How did you even sneak into the school! Jaune said furiously.

I disguise myself as a school bag! Oscar said proudly, puffing his chest out.

Jaune slaps his forehead and groans."And everyone fell for that?!"

Oscar pulls on Jaune's pants leg to get him to pay attention."Jaune we have to start your training!

Jaune looked down at the cloaked child in suspicion. "Training for what.

Oscar smiled widely and pulled out a sheet of paper that Jaune read as, MAKE JAUNE POPULAR!

"What?" He deadpan.

"Right now, you have no friends, not counting Miss Velvet, but if we follow this we make you a ton of friends by the end.

Jaune stares blankly at Oscar as he continued. "The first step is simple, Go find a bully, and beat him up! Perfect right?"

"Wrong," Jaune replied with a shake of his head. "I don't know if you can tell, but I'm not exactly John Wick, you know?

"Who's John Wick?" Oscar asked with a tilled of his head. Jaune sighed.

"You know what, Go find a bully and beat him up. Okay?"

Oscar fist-pumped and began to run off.

"I won't let you down Jaune! I'll find the nasty guy, pick a fight with him, and then you can make a ton of friends! He called out to him.

Jaune smirk. "He'll be looking for awhile."He thought to himself. "Even if he does find someone, the kid will be fine. He can shoot lightning. What could possibly go wrong?. XoXoXo

Velvet sighed as she watched Jaune leave with the little boy tucked between his arm.

Velvet decided to walk to the vending machine. As she walked she remember the time she spent with Jaune back in elementary school up to high school. She had moved from Australia back as a kid because of her parent's jobs. Not a lot of kids would talk to Velvet because of her bad french. No one but Jaune.

"At least he didn't leave school yet." She muttered to herself.

He even helped improve her french. Because of him, she made friends outside of the two of them. But when they got to high school, something changed. People had started to hate Jaune. Started to avoid him because they thought he was looking down on them for being smarter. Jaune Arc is, or at least was her best friend. And it hurts to see such a dear friend push her away after being friends for so long.

But she wasn't gonna let it happen again, she was going to help Jaune the best she could. She snapped out of her thoughts as she bumped into something.

"Ah Velvet." She heard a thuggish voice say to her. " Just the girl I was looking for.

Velvet looked up to see the school's bully and all-around Jackass. Cardin Winchester. XoXoXoXo

Oscar ran around the school grounds, his cloak flapping behind him with a huge grin on his face as he looked look for bullies for Jaune to beat and become popular.

He heard a scream and he sees a huge orange hair boy drag that pretty lady that was Jaune's friend somewhere.

"Ah-ha! A bully!" Oscar grinned and ran after them. XoXoXo

Jaune walked down the hallway. He didn't know why but he had a bad feeling and his mother wouldn't be happy to hear that he had just let an eight-year-old go and pick a fight with some teenagers. So Jaune went looking for Oscar. It took him until near the end of the lunch period when he heard Velvet's voice scream out near the door to the roof.

"What's wrong with you?! He's just a kid leave him alone!"

Jaune rushes up to the door to the roof and looked out the window to see the school's biggest dickhead Cardin. He wonders where Velvet was when he look to where Cardin was looking.

He saw that Oscar beat up and bruised as Velvet being in a similar way, her standing in front of the young boy like a shield. Tears Streamed down Velvet face as she pulls out her wallet.

"Listen just take my money and leave okay! I don't wanna cause any more problems.

Oscar grabbed Velvet hand and managed to smile despite the blood dripping down his freckled face.

"You don't do that. Jaune will be here to kick this guy ass!"

Cardin laughs at the young boy words. "Arc? You think Arc gonna come to your rescue?" The ginger clutches his stomach as he laughs even harder.

"That aggronce ass doesn't give a shit about anything! All he does is look down on people. Nobody cares if Arc is here or not!"

Jaune lowered his head and smiles bitterly. Cardin wasn't wrong in a sense. No one really cared if he was here or not. He wonders why he came here in the first place. To get away from Oscar? Who was he kidding?

If he wanted to get away from him he could have gone anywhere but school. He came hoping that he would be accepted by his peer. But what was the point? No one wants him here.

"Shut up!" Oscar shouted surprising Jaune and Cardin. "Do you know about Jaune?! I know he's a good person deep down! Everyone else is mean to him! You jerks just can't handle that might be smarter than you! And when he gets here, he gonna beat you into the ground!"

Jaune chuckled a bit.

"You don't know me that well either kid." Jaune thought to himself with a slight smile.

"Well…. I guess I better not make the kid liar. Jaune kick opens the door with a grin. "Never fear! Jaune Arc is here!"

"Jaune!" Velvet said as Oscar grinned. Cardin cracks his knuckles as he walks up to Jaune.

"Well, Well Well. Cardin chuckled. "So that little pipsqueak said you came to beat me up Arc." Cardin grinned, trying to hold in his laughter.

Jaune smiled boldly wasn't as confident as Cardin. The bully was taller than him granted not by much but it was enough. To Jaune's credit managed to keep his voice from cracking as he spoke.

"That's right. Unless you leave these people alone." Jaune peak over Cardin's shoulder to look at the bruised up Oscar and glared at Cardin."Seriously, who the hell beat up an eight-year-old?"

"I do. And after I kick your ass I'll take his money along with your and Velvet money as payment for wasting my time with this bullshit."

"Bold of you to assume you're going to-" Jaune was cut off as the wind was knocked out of as Cardin slammed his fist into his stomach. At the moment Jaune was full of regret. He shouldn't have tried to fight this guy, what was he thinking? Cardin was a monster compared to him he didn't have a chance. As Cardin throw a punch to the side of Jaune head, he felt his vision dim a bit. But an idea came into his head.

If he read that book he had taken from Oscar he could get out of his mess. After Cardin wailed on Jaune for awhile he throws him toward Velvet and Oscar, to Jaune's luck.

"Jaune!" Velvet cried out as she saw her friend on his back. She helped him to his stand to his feet. "Just let me give him the money and we can end this.

Jaune winched as he stood on his feet. "Nah. No need. I got a plan Vel."

Oscar grin at Jaune. "I knew you were a hero Jaune!" He turns back to glare at Cardin. "How are we taking this jerk?

Jaune pulls out Oscar book and opens it to the first page.

"Like this: Ozkeiru!" He bellowed out.

Oscar's eyes went blank and he opened his mouth, lighting gets fired out of his mouth.

Shard of the roof went flying as the bolt went fly toward Cardin, narrowing missing the ginger.

Cardin looks at the trio in horror before fainting on the spot.

XoXoXo

Oscar sat in front of the tv in Jaune's room laughing at old Looney tunes cartoons. He was still wearing the cloak that he came with. Jaune seems to notice that Oscar didn't really take it off, even when he sleeps. The blonde shook his head and went back to the book Oscar came with. He needs to learn how Oscar power work. There is no telling if he'll need it again or not.

"Okay… let's go down the list of things that I know about. Jaune mutter to himself quietly enough so the tyke in his room couldn't hear him.

One: Oscar has no idea that he can fire lighting out of his mouth. The truth was after what happened on the roof Oscar said that he could only remember blacking out and when he came to he say the butthead(His words, not Jaune unconscious on the roof. Along with some parts of the roof being gone. Jaune didn't tell, Oscar the truth about what happened, he didn't know why and he was grateful that Velvet came to her own conclusion that lighting that came from the sky and destroys the roof instead of lighting coming out of Oscar's mouth. It saves him explaining from not only her but the teachers that had come up to the roof. But back, on track. Number two is that based off the two times Jaune had the book in his hand Oscar could only use his powers then. It seems that Oscar couldn't do it own. 3. Jaune could only read one word off the book. Which frustrated him to no end! He read every old text he could find but nothing could match what language that was in the book. He was going to go to the book again with a hand covering his eyes.

"Guess who Jauney!" A voice sang out, one Jaune recognizes quickly causing him to groan.

"Hmm. Either it's Napoleon or Saprhon. I'd rather have Napoleon."

Saphron took her hand up a Jaune's face allowing him to see her smiling at him, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. Jaune turned around the face Saphron and then noticed that his elder sister was holding Oscar in her tucked arm, looking quite confused to why this stranger was holding him. But Saphron oddly went on like Oscar wasn't in her arms.

"It's been a while Jaune! Mom said you've been going back to school again! That's great!" Saphron smile again.

Jaune decided to roll with Saphron and wait for her to notice she was holding Oscar.

"Yeah. I deduce that it was time to rejoin society and all that jazz. Anyway, how was your trip to that College?" Saphron walked over to Jaune's bed and sat on it with Oscar trying to squirm out of her arm.

"It was alright. Don't think I'm going to go to that college. I rather stay here in France near you and mom." Saphron looked around the room.

" Mom told me that there was a little boy that dad spend to live with is but I don't see him anywhere. Where is the Jaune?"

Oscar during is squirming decided to speak up finally.

"I'm here! My name is Oscar pine!"

Saphron looks down to smiled sheepishly at the little boy.

"Hello, Oscar. I'm Saphron. When did I pick you up?"

"When you entered the room."He said, not trying to escape anymore. It was futile Saphron's grip was too tight.

"I'm so sorry. How old are you Oscar?"

"8!"

Saph couldn't stop smiling for some reason, Oscar reminds her of Jaune when he was the same age.

"I use to pick up Jaune without noticing when he was around your age!" Jaune let off a little cough to let them know he was still there.

" I'm actually glad you're back Saph." He said opening the green book and showing his sister a page. "I was hoping you can help read this, Dad and I can't do it so far."

Saph seat Oscar in her lap and squinted her eyes to read the book.

"Sorry, bro I can't read this. It's all a bunch of gibberish to me."

"Can you read the word in red at least?"

Saphron looked at him confused.

"What red line?"

Jaune paused. Only he could read the book?

[andrewguyspeaks-blog]

Purpose Will Live Long After SuperHeroes Die: The Power of Purpose Beyond Black Panther!

The immortal power of purpose in action is undeniably the greatest legacy mankind or better yet, superhero can leave behind. 

Courtesy: Actor Chadwick Boseman(Jay L. Clendenin / Los Angeles Times )

Chadwick Boseman dead at 43 and many people are now wondering if there will be a BP2, #blackpanther2. My answer is an emphatic...YOU BET THERE WILL! Even if #WillSmith had to hang up his Fresh Princely  robe and assume the role of #BlackPanther, without a doubt, a BP2 will emerge. I mean...you can LOL, but they may call me or you to play BP2. You just never know. But all jokes aside... The #Creator of all things, including humanity, is far too creative to not have a future plan. The death of #chadwickboseman, a brilliant expression of creativity-in-motion is a shock to the millions who adored his work as a professional screen #actor, #speaker and performer.

Consider this scenario: The Misunderstanding Many Face.

Imagine you ordered a hot Domino's  pizza on a Friday night as you sat with you boys and or gals waiting patiently for the delivery boy to show up with one slice of your pizza missing...Are you kiddin' Me? Where's that deliver guy? I'm calling TONY! THIS IS RIDICULOUS! I WANT MY PIZZA BACK! Wow, wow...Andrew! Straighten up, Squash the beef and Pump your breaks...who is...Tony? BRUH...! Are you serious? I thought this was supposed to be a SERIOUS MESSAGE to the fans of Black Panther superhero, Chadwick Boseman, your follower and blog readers? Now, who the heck is Tony for #FCOL...For Crying Out Loud? Are you saying I'm supposed to just let this go, bro? Oh no! I ordered a full pizza and that's what I expected; not some crummy leftover pizza with a missing chunk and the delivery boy goes mute while standing at the door with his stretched out dry crusty palm, and beady eyes staring at me expecting a tip. I DON'T THINK SO! NO TIP FOR YOU! Bro, don’t you think you are overreacting here? Some would say. My response...I DON'T THINK SO!  Playing the devil’s advocate is easier said than done. The fact is, anyone would be upset if that had happened to them,  but can you blame me? I mean, who wouldn't be ticked-off, perplexed, and outraged if their expectations were cut short. 

Follow me on this, if you will. Imagine the millions of fans waiting for the sequel of movie that started an unforgettable movement, but only to be cut short of knowing #BP2 (Black Panther II) may not even be played by Chadwick Boseman. What a shock to the visual senses and the cinematic experience of reliving Boseman on the giant screen...hypothetically speaking. I'm sure you would. It's called human beings, being human because they have the ability to comprehend what it means to experience the defeat of loss. In case you missed the purpose and meaning of the message during the Columbo-TONY "Case of the missing slice..."

The metaphorical pun from the pizza animated story is that the pizza is no longer complete if part is missing. Even it’s only a slice. I get it, Andrew, you say. I...get it, bro.  Maybe you do, but you probably don't. Truth is, some will and some won't. BUT there's still a small chance that the light bulb may turn on for some, and the reality of reading between the lines may kick in speedly after knowing that this conversation goes far deeper than the smell of a hot oven or the taste of a risen crust pizza with your favourite toppings. This is not food for thought. The real message is about life, knowing you are going to die some day, living purposefully, understanding your gift, using your talent to skillfully serve others while making a difference and having a positive impact on the next generation. 

It’s about being passionately alive, savouring the meaningful moments as they come, and being able to stand out from the crowd, while fully aware of who you are in this world.

And you say...Andrew E. Guy...WOW! Eureka! OMG! Holy...God, and not the cow!

Andrew, I see it now. Your message is clearly a wake up call to everyone who don't know their purpose for living and those who think they do, but could be doing the wrong life-assignment and living for the crowd.

This is genius. So let me get this right. If I understand this correctly, you are saying #chadwickboseman represents the missing slice of the pizza and while many are hurting because the world will no longer be the same because of Chadwick Boseman's death, the missing slice and a voice in the black community is irreplaceable. 

The Black Panther star will be forever missed.

There have been many deaths this year. Consequently, none of which are coincidental. In each of these death, include that of #GeorgeFloyed, should cause us to reflect on our role in life. 

This leads me to take stock of all the blessings I currently have despite the difficulties I faced in the earlier part of 2020. This year has shock me to the core. It has been a difficult year for me so far: I lost my dad, and my mom got really sick and was hospitalized for many weeks, but by God's grace she made a full recovery. 

Some may call it Knock-on-wood, but I stand on faith believing that time heals all wounds and I'm still hopeful and optimistic of tomorrow and what's to come. We have lost a lot of significant people this year, and my heart goes out to anyone whom have suffered the loss of loved ones in 2020. 

To the Boseman family, his friends, colleagues, business associates and the millions of fans around the globe, this is not the end, but the beginning of something much greater than we've seen in decades.  

And yes, it's sad and it does hurt to see Chadwick Boseman go but even purpose is time-sensitive. And the quicker we accept that everything happens in its time, the faster will be our recovery from the shackles of old wounds and past traumatic experiences. Time is the master, but the Creator is the regulator.  A piece of earth is gone and many have said, that's too soon. But the reality is that even the sports legends and superheroes of our grown-up and childhood dreams must die and go to their perspective places of rest so that new super heroes can take their rightful place in history. Whether you like it or not, we all have to go one day. Some today, others tomorrow....but all one day!

The #goodnews is that the greater part of our legacy lives on...long after the grave.

#ChadwickBoseman will always be remembered, especially for his unforgettable speech on

"The Power of Purpose."

Boseman’s speech is a clear reminder that the most powerful attribute of mankind is the racialization of knowing our purpose in #thecircleoflife, but there's something even greater than knowing.

Any idea what's greater than having the knowledge of something? I'll tell you. It's living that purpose with such passion that others are motivated and inspired by you, but your Creator gets the glory from everything we do. I call this actively pursuing greatness instead of being chased by mediocrity.  

In closing, many have said that there are two major moments in one’s life: the day you were born and the day you die. 

After pondering these cliches and their temporary meanings, It is clear that there are 3 vitally significant areas of existing: the day when you are granted life. 

I call this the gift of life; next is the day when you take action to unwrap your life-gift, discovery your life-assignment (what you were created to do). I call this living; and finally, the greater part of your life and living is the culmination of being ALIVE.

This I call the day when you become aware of who you are, why you are different and so unique from every other creation that you can never be replicated; that one day you will die; that there's only one of you and once your physical time on earth is over, all there is are memories of what you used to be. It is at this time when the cobwebs disappear, the light bulb turns on, your eyes are opened, and your vision, mission and values become so clear that you abandon every other assignments for the purpose and function you were designed to fulfill before you die. Chadwick,  you are the missing slice of our global pizza that the world has seen and behold, and will never taste again, but will only relive the flavoursome moments you've created from your expressed creativity. Thank you for stopping by.  Rest well my brother. RIP. 

About The Author:

Official Website: www.andrewguyspeaks.com Podcast: https://bit.ly/32AyHCN Books by Andrew: Work Your Words | The Anatomy of The Kingdom

Andrew is a bestselling author, best known for “Work Your Words: Finding Your Pathway To Personal Success. He's the host of the Newly Disruptive Podcast “I’M LISTENING I’M READY” ™, a weekly podcast for people and professionals on the go who wants to make positive changes in their lives, where they “LIVE, WORK, & PLAY!”™ ** Sat. @ 10 AM EST

Andrew is a firm believer that "it's not where you start on the track of life, it's how you run the race of living that matters. Through his engaging talks, he inspires executive staff, municipal and city officials, business men and women, developing professionals, school districts, teachers and students,  to develop a deeper understanding of purpose, strive to find meaning in all you do, develop skills, improve relationships, know who you are in your area of expertise.

[7-wonders]

Half of My Heart

Summary: Jim was supposed to be better now. After his psychotic break, you and Medina had made sure that it was impossible for him to slip back into his old habits. But the morning comes, and so does the realization that he’s been lying to both of you. 

Word Count: 3739

A/N & Warnings: This is super sad! Major character death, resuscitation efforts, cursing, hospitals, talk of death. Angst with a fluffy ending, is what we’ll call this. Feedback is always appreciated, and I’d love it if you liked, left a comment and reblogged if you enjoyed this!

It’s never a good sign when somebody cuts right to the chase during a phone call. While Medina Mason is not the type of person to exchange pleasantries, she still normally has the decency to let you finish greeting her before she starts speaking.

“He-”

“Jim’s with you, right? He told me he would be with you.” Medina speaks in a rush. The apple that you’re eating suddenly tastes sour in your mouth, and you set the fruit down on the counter next to you.

“No, I haven’t seen him since last night. I was going to keep an eye on him at that party he was going to, but he told me you’d be there to watch him.”

“Oh, God.” Medina breathes out. “And he--he hasn’t texted you? I thought Jim always sends you good morning texts.”

When you had woken without one of Jim’s texts saying ‘good morning sunshine,’ it hadn’t worried you too much. Jim was notorious for sleeping until the early hours of the afternoon when he’d been out partying the previous night. This was the first party he would be attending after getting out of the hospital a month ago. You thought nothing could scare you more than Jim showing up at your house that fateful night, barefoot, strung out, and rambling about flares and fire. Watching him get carried away by the police, kicking and screaming, was a vision that still gives you nightmares sometimes. You and Medina had been vigilant in making sure someone was with him at all times, and that was supposed to be the case last night. He only lied when he was using, and since he hadn’t used since before the ‘incident,’ as Sandy called it, there was no reason to not trust him when he told you that Medina was meeting him at the party.

“You don’t think…” You don’t even want to think that he’s been using again, not after he’s been doing so good as of late.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Medina mutters into the phone, running through the house. You can do nothing but listen to her while she rummages around for something. “Shit!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We hid the pills before he got home, in a place we were sure he wouldn’t find them-”

“Medina!” You snap, stopping her rambling.

“The pills were all hidden in the box of Dad’s clothes that Sandy keeps in the attic. They’re not there anymore.” Your blood runs cold at the last sentence, and you have to grip the counter to keep yourself upright.

“I’m gonna go look for him. Call the cops, and don’t leave until they show up!”

“But (Y/N), I need to find-”

“You can help once the cops get all the information they need. God knows Sandy would make this entire situation a thousand times worse. I’ll call you when I find him, okay?” She stays silent, so you press her again. “Okay, Medina?”

“...Yeah. Okay.” She says finally, tears already clouding her voice.

Hanging up without another word, you slide your sandals on and grab your keys before running out the door. This can’t be happening again, you keep thinking as you start your car. You guys are just overreacting; there’s no way he would deliberately lie, and steal pills, and not tell anyone what he’s doing. Not after he’s been doing so good and remaining clean. This past month of Jim’s sobriety has been one of the best of all of your lives. You and Jim had fallen in love during one of his rare weeks of sobriety, almost a year ago. By the time you realized he had a serious issue, you cared for him too much to break up with him because of his addictions.

He’s not at Lunada, nor is he at the main Bay Boys house. Phil’s house is devoid of any cars, and the parks are all filled with soccer moms speedwalking with their babies. The more time that passes, the more the pit in your stomach grows. Medina would have called you by now if he had showed up at home, and you had threatened the Bay Boys into swearing that they were telling you the truth. Breathing deeply, you try to think like Jim. He walked to the party, that much you know, so if he hadn’t gotten a ride from someone, he would have walked back. If Jim was high, which it’s seeming more and more like he is, he would have been drawn to the one place that has always brought him comfort: the beach.

The Bay Boys had told you the party was at their house last night, which means the closest beach is only a mile away. Checking to make sure there’s no other traffic, you make a wide turn in the middle of the street and speed in the direction of your next guess. This beach is smaller and less populated, the waves crashing against the rocky bottom before they can form to their full swells. It’s a portion of beach that you’ve always been fond of; usually deserted, it’s perfect to set your stuff down and get away from the world for a while. The white sand is pristine, save for a large object interrupting the symmetry right where the waves kiss the sand.

“Please, no.” You mutter.

Even though you’re not very religious, you hope that whatever is listening to you hears your pleas. Your legs are numb with fear, yet they still carry you closer to whatever is laying in the sand. When it becomes clear that the shape is a person, your heart drops.

“Jim?” You call cautiously, but there’s no response.

It looks like he’s sleeping, at first. His long eyelashes brush the tops of his cheekbones, and his lips are parted like they are when he’s having a nice dream. His hair is matted, but that’s to be expected when laying in the sand and doing who-knows-what before ending up here. Even the fact that the waves are washing over him isn’t too concerning, since he enjoys submerging himself even when he’s sober. It’s the purple tinge around his lips and the lack of a chest rising and falling that makes you break into a sprint. You fall to your knees beside Jim, eyes desperately scanning across his body.

“Jim!” You yell, cautiously reaching a hand out to shake his shoulder. He’s limp, and his cheeks lack the usual warmth that they normally hold. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.”

Tears blur your vision as you lean your head against his chest. When you can’t hear a heartbeat, you let out a sob.

“Help!” You scream out, the salt air of the sea already rubbing your throat raw. “Somebody help me!”

Your brain kicks into overdrive when you lay your hands against his chest. You haven’t taken a CPR class since you were 15 and needed it for babysitting, but you still remember what the teacher taught you about it. You press down repeatedly, pumping his chest in an attempt to get his heart started while you count each compression under your breath. When you get to 30, you tilt his chin up with one hand and pinch his nose closed with the other.

Jim’s lips are cold when you seal your mouth over his, making you cry against him. It doesn’t feel anything like your Jim, whose lips are normally warm and taste like the watermelon gum he’s so fond of. Breathing into his mouth, you give him two rescue breaths before checking to hear if he’s breathing on his own. He’s not, and it’s a near-miracle that you remember you have a phone with you.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The tinny voice sounds from the speaker of your phone, which is laying on the sand next to you. The water’s been washing over your legs, soaking the hem of your jeans, a fact that you don’t notice until you have to move your phone to avoid ruining it.

“M-my boyfriend overdosed, I think. He’s not breathing, and his heart isn’t beating.” You stutter out, too focused on providing chest compressions to try and form actual sentences. “Don’t you fucking die on me, Jim Mason!”

“Have you attempted CPR?”

“Yes, please hurry!” You look back at Jim’s face, almost willing him to look up at you. “Jim, please!”

“What is your location?” You huff angrily after administering another round of rescue breaths.

“I don’t--we’re on a beach!”

“Which beach?”

“Fuck!” You grit out, returning to compressions with a vigor. “Like, three miles south of Lunada.”

“I’ve sent an ambulance to your location. Please remain on the line so I can track your location.” The voice continues to speak, but you don’t even register the sounds as actual words. All you can focus on is the steady pump-pump-pump of your hands as you work desperately to get his heart to start beating again.

Hospital emergency rooms are the type of place where you could enter into a different dimension just by walking through the door. There’s no way to really mark the passage of time when you’re sitting in those uncomfortable plastic chairs, and the consistency of people moving in and out of the doors makes it impossible to remember faces. You’re not quite sure how long you had been waiting until Medina comes running through the automatic doors, teary-eyed and yelling your name. You look up from your nails, which you had been working to remove the sand out from under.

“Medina!” You cry, standing up and letting her pull you into a bone-crushing hug. “I got--I got his heart beating again, but it was really weak and I-I-”

“Shh, I know.” Medina soothes you when your sentence breaks off into a fresh round of sobs. “No matter what happens, you saved his life (Y/N). He was dead, and you brought him back.”

“What if it wasn’t enough?” You mumble against Medina’s shoulder, letting her rub your back and lead you back towards the chairs.

“There’s nothing either of us can do. It’s up to Jim now to decide if he wants to fight.”

Time passes at an indeterminate rate, the only constant being Medina’s hand enclosed in yours. Phil, she had told you, was still in Paris. He promised that he would be on the next flight back, but he didn’t sound too concerned. After Jim’s psychotic break, Phil had been rather distant with his son. Sandy, who had been shopping in Calabasas, apparently fainted when Medina called and told her the news. That really doesn’t surprise you; if Sandy hadn’t fainted for the sheer dramatics of it, she definitely fainted because of her obsession with Jim.

“Where is he?” Sure enough, Sandy appears exactly two hours and fifteen minutes after Medina: the exact amount of time it takes to make it from Calabasas to Palos Verdes. Her large sunglasses are perched on top of her head, allowing everyone to see as she plays the Oscar-worthy role of grieving mother.

“We haven’t gotten an update yet. The doctors are probably still trying to get him stabilized.” Medina explains, standing and allowing Sandy to cling to her like she’s the only thing keeping Sandy from floating off.

“That is unacceptable. I’ll go and talk to the nurses, see if we can talk to his doctors.” You look up when Sandy falls silent, only for your eyes to meet yours.

You’re sure that you look like a complete mess; your eyes are swollen and red, you’ve taken to pulling on your hair as a coping mechanism and your jeans have dried and molded to your legs. It’s not like Sandy’s taken to you much in the near-year that you’ve been dating Jim; you’ve heard her complain more-than-enough times about how you’re ‘stealing’ her son away from her. You’re bracing yourself for a couple of snide remarks, fully ready to hear Sandy accuse you of being the reason that Jim relapsed and basically died on that beach. That’s why you’re more than shocked when she sits down on the chair next to you and takes your hand in hers.

“You found Jim?” You nod.

“I...I gave him CPR until his heart started again. It wasn’t the strongest, and he wasn’t conscious, but I could hear it beating again.” Sandy surges forward, wrapping you in her arms tightly. You awkwardly pat her back while she cries against you, silently pleading with Medina to do something about her mom. For the first time all day, that familiar sly Mason smile pops onto her face while she gives you a thumbs up.

“Thank you so much. How did you know where to look for him?”

“I just thought like Jim.” You shrug. “He wasn’t at his favorite beach, so I figured he’d be at mine.”

Sandy pulls away, wiping her eyes and smiling at you. It’s shocking when she strokes your hair, smoothing it against your head like your own mother would do when you were younger and upset. She stands, allowing Medina to take her seat again.

“Why don’t you two try and get some rest? I’ll go and see what I can find out.” Sandy sniffles, wiping her eyes again and sighing deeply before walking purposefully towards the nurses station.

Medina takes her mother’s words to heart, leaning her head on your shoulder and immediately closing her eyes. You can only stare in the direction of the nurses station, watching while Sandy speaks to a nurse and trying to decipher what they’re both saying while you play with Medina’s sun-bleached hair. Although you try and stay awake for as long as possible, sleep soon starts to claim you too.

It feels like only a moment that you doze off for before Sandy’s shaking your shoulder, as well as Medina’s. You squint your eyes while you try to adjust to the bright fluorescent lighting, fishing your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Damn, so much for staying awake when you fall asleep for an hour.

“Jim’s awake and in a room. The doctor said that it doesn’t look like he has any brain damage from the lack of oxygen, but they’ll do an MRI in the morning to make sure. Medina and I can go back first, and then you can, (Y/N). They’d let all of us go back at once, but they don’t want to wear him out.” Medina sits up straight, stretching before running a hand through her hair.

“He’s okay?” You ask quietly. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sleep, the adrenaline finally wearing off, or if you’re just an emotional mess, but tears fill your eyes when Sandy nods.

“He’s okay. The doctor said fifteen minutes for each of us, and then we can come back tomorrow. Come on, Medina, visiting hours are almost over.” You’re touched at the care Sandy’s showing towards her other child during this time, watching as she helps Medina up and loops an arm around her.

The fifteen minutes that the Mason family spends together passes by at a snail’s pace. Needing to distract yourself, you flip through pictures of you and Jim that have been taken throughout the last year. It makes the time go quicker, as well as reassuring you that he’s not the blue, lifeless corpse you had to save on the beach. The doors to the patient rooms swing open, and you look up to see Medina and Sandy. They both have teary eyes again, but the smiles on their faces calm your racing heart.

“How’s he doing?” You ask, standing up and pulling your jacket tighter around you.

“He’s tired, and upset that he relapsed again. He’s in good spirits, though.” Sandy explains.

“He kept asking about you.” Medina chimes in. “You should go back. The second he heard you were here, he tried to sit up and get out of bed.”

You laugh at the oh-so accurate description of your boyfriend, nodding and walking past the two. Medina squeezes your hand as you pass, and you smile back at her.

“Room 118.” She tells you before the doors close behind you.

The room’s not that far down the hallway, and you hesitate before you open the door. Would he look like the Jim that you know, the Jim that you just spent fifteen minutes trying to remind yourself is still here and alive? Or would he look like the dead body that you see whenever you close your eyes, with sand sticking to his back and skin that’s icy cold to the touch?

“Standing there’s not gonna do anything for you.” You whip around to see a man in scrubs watching you. “Go on. I promise you, if he’s in one of these rooms then he’s gonna make it.”

It’s a little weird, this random nurse giving you advice, but you nod anyways before opening the door. Jim’s laying in the bed, which is propped up slightly so he’s not flat on his back. There’s an IV poking out of his arm, as well as wires poking out of the top of his hospital gown. From your limited medical knowledge, you’re pretty sure that this is an EKG. A cannula provides him a steady flow of oxygen, and the constant beeping of the vitals monitor assures you that this is all real. Jim tilts his head towards the door when he hears it open, smiling widely at the sight of you.

“Come here, baby.” He croaks out.

Tears obviously aren’t going to help the situation, but you still can’t help it when you start crying upon hearing Jim’s voice. There’s already a chair next to his bed, so you sit in that and let him grip your hand. It’s an uncomfortable position when you lay your head on his bicep, but you need to have physical proof that this is real and that Jim’s actually alive.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying.” You sniffle out.

“I should be the one apologizing to you.”

“No, you’re in the hospital! The rest of us need to apologize.”

“Why?”

“We didn’t keep a close enough eye on you. I should have gone to that party with you, if I was there then none of us would be here right now.”

“I shouldn’t have lied to you and Medina. I also shouldn’t have stolen the pills that Sandy hid from me. Please don’t beat yourself up about this, (Y/N).” You’re silent for a moment, reveling in the feeling of Jim running a hand through your hair. “‘Dina told me...that you were the one who found me?”

“Did I hurt your chest?” You ask. Although it’s not the most important thing to think about right now, for some reason it’s the only thing you can think about. Jim silently chuckles, shaking his head.

“It’s sore, but that doesn’t matter. I was dead?” You stiffen before nodding, looking into his baby blue eyes. “Like...actually?”

“When I found you…” you have to take a deep breath before continuing, “when I found you, you were completely limp. Your lips were blue, you weren’t breathing, and you didn’t have a heartbeat.”

“Yep, definitely dead.” Jim has a really weird sense of humor when dealing with heavy topics, and this is no different.

“What was it like? Do you remember?” You ask quietly, bringing his hand up so you can kiss the back of it repeatedly.

“I heard you.” He says after a long moment.

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head in confusion. Did you just accidentally say something out loud?

“There was nothing while I was dead, I was just bathed in this warm light that felt like when you lay on the sand after it’s been soaking up the sun all day. Warm in all the right ways, ya know?” You nod, confirming that you know the feeling. “But then, I heard you yelling my name. You just kept repeating ‘no’ over and over again. When you started CPR, I could hear you counting the compressions under your breath.”

“You--you heard me?” You say shakily. “How? You were, like, really dead.”

“I know, and I know this sounds so crazy, but I could see you too. Obviously my eyes weren’t open, but it was like this tunnel vision where I saw you crying and yelling at me.”

“And it wasn’t some weird vision?” You ask.

“‘Don’t you fucking die on me, Jim Mason.’” He quotes, sending chills down your spine. “You told the operator we were three miles south of Lunada.”

“Holy shit.” You breathe out.

“You literally brought me back to life, (Y/N). I never believed in angels before, but you are my angel.” You wipe your tears away with the back of your hand, rolling your eyes.

“Don’t tell me your near-death experience has made you a sap now, Jim.”

“I was a sap before I died, too.” Jim pauses, biting his lip while he considers what to say next. “I was telling Sandy and Medina this, but once I’m well enough to be discharged, I’m going to take a look at those long-term rehab facilities you guys were showing me. I wanna get better, and stay better. Hearing you sobbing for me and refusing to give up on me, and me not being able to do anything about it? I don’t ever want to put you in that position again. I want to be in your life for a long time (Y/N), and I want you to be in mine for a long time.”

“I think...that’s a really good idea, Jim.” You lean up to kiss his forehead. “I’m proud of you for realizing that you need help.”

There’s a quick knock on the door before it opens, and the same nurse that told you to go in pops his head in.

“It’s been fifteen minutes. Jim needs some rest, now.” You look at the nurse, pleading with him to let you stay longer, but Jim calls your name so you look at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” You lean in to kiss him, muttering against his lips how much you love him. “I love you too, baby.”

It’s so incredibly hard to leave Jim’s room, but you’re at peace knowing that he’ll still be here in the morning, waiting for you to come back.

Tag List: @sebastianshoe @queencocoakimmie@trimbooohgodplsnoooo @let-me-try-mom @sammythankyou@pastel-cloudz @nana15774 @divinelangdon@lichellaw@sammythankyou @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58@dandycandy75 @alexcornerblog @everything-is-awesomesauce @khaleesimel@sloppy-little-witch-bitch26@langdonslove @heda-mikaelson @readsalot73@jimmlangdon@lvngdvns @wroteclassicaly @ccodyfern @venusxxlangdon@heylolitahey13 @langdonsdemon @divinelangdon @rocketgirl2410 @duncan-sojourn @michaelsapostle 

[vanllacreme1]

it’s mac again ! i’m bringing over an old-ish oc that i hardly got to play but really loved ( which means that this intro is long bc i have a lot of thoughts about my son ) !! pls welcome my babiest baby boi, TEDDY LEUNG . 

☕ . ˚ ◝ ( lucas wong. cismale. he/him. ) theodore “teddy” leung is a twenty year old aries. the freelancer’s go-to order is vanilla creme frappe with two pumps of raspberry syrup and extra whip cream. they like to listen to ring ding dong by shinee while they wait for their order. the employees of the deja brew think they are meek but swear they’re totally optimistic as well. maybe that’s why a spray paint can, a velcro chain wallet, and earbuds remind me of them.  

PINTEREST

mentions of ptsd. injury. 9/11. deafness. 

i. born and fostered out of love, teddy leung is the son of a first generation chinese american military officer and a thai lounge singer. having met while his father was stationed overseas, his parents fell in love but just before they could get their relationship could fully bloom, teddy’s father was sent back to america. regretfully, teddy’s parents parted ways but even with an ocean between them, the culmination of their short-lived romance grew into a new life.

ii. teddy was a surprise, to everyone involved, and in fear for his love and his child’s life in the hands of her traditionalist parents ( afterall she was young, unwed and pregnant ), teddy’s father sent for her, causing her to have to leave everything she knew behind for a man she knew for only eight months. but they were in love and they both felt as if their situation was the fates telling them to be together.

iii. teddy came into the world kicking and screaming, his little lungs gasping for air as his limbs stretched out of their confines for the first time. an explosive ball of energy that his mother ate up and his father smiled down on protectively. he was their special boy, golden and proof that all their hardships -- the arguments, the alienation of her family, the stress -- was all worth it in the end.

iv. and for the first few years, it was harmonious. all focus was on raising teddy and providing for him, his father training the battalion on fort irwin and his mother working as a music teacher for the kids in the area. then, in the aftermath of 9/11, teddy’s father was deployed for five years on active duty in afghanistan where he served until a hostile bombing left him injured.

v. returning home after all that time away was an adjustment for teddy’s father, having to cope with not only the strain of physical therapy and ptsd, but also with his 7-year-old son whom he hadn’t spent any real time with since the boy was three. but, teddy, with his big, wondering eyes and even bigger, tender heart, tried to connect with his father the way he was close with his mother.

vi. but even then, there was only so much that teddy and his father could see eye to eye on. art and music became a big part of teddy’s life, while sport and the sciences were his father’s interests. it alienated them both from each other, for the short while before teddy’s father accepted a recruitment job in san diego and became busy again.

vii. in san diego, teddy found a little more independence, enrolling in the local public school instead of the school on the army base. and things were fine, again, until they weren’t. by the time teddy was 11, he developed ménière’s in his left ear, causing him to become hard of hearing on top of bouts of vertigo and tinnitus. he fought a lot with his parents then, his angsty teenage bullshit hitting an absolute peak early on when his parents wanted him to get fitted for an aid and he wanted to just let nature take its course ( he still has his one good ear, he’d argue ).

viii. eventually, they came to an agreement, that teddy would go to counselling and learn asl in lieu of getting an aid, and that teddy wouldn’t complain when his family relocated again in the beginning of his freshman year of high school. moving, this time to colorado, drove a deeper wedge between teddy and his father. and as much as he loves the man, they just didn’t seem to click anymore.

ix. so teddy tried to be a good son for him, focused on school and behaved the best he could. it was only after teddy started applying for university, that he felt the spark of excitement again. the possibility of going back to the place he was the longest, to southern california, was all that he cared about. his college years were going to be the time he became more independent from his parents, finally gaining some semblance of his own person beyond what his parents tried to mold him into.

***DISCLAIMER: teddy is written by a hearing person and his condition may be written inaccurately. please know that i am not at all trying to offend anyone who is HoH and that i will do my best to research and be mindful of the portrayal of his hearing loss. that being said, if you are offended by the way i portray his hearing loss in any capacity, please message me privately so we can have a conversation and i can learn from my mistake.

quick fax  

- is an army brat so he moved around a lot growing up ; spent high school years elsewhere, but moved back to cali for university  - is studying accounting bc ,,, idk its stable and he’s never really had stability in his life until now - such a glass half full person but is that one ‘ everything is fine ’ meme  - will try anything once ; whether or not it sticks depends on how much he ends up enjoying it - would also stand up 2 someone but immediately regret it after - is hard of hearing in his left ear ( ménière’s disease ) so he will lean toward the noise to hear better aka im so sorry if he’s in ur bubble, he just cant hear what uR’E SAYING  - he’s ,,, ,v loud w/o realizing it  - bc of his meniere’s he can’t have caffeine ( lol ) but he likes the cafe culture and likes to go to deja brew to sketch - also has earbuds in like 24/7 ; gets nagged by his mom that he SHOULDN’T but like ,,,, he’s accepted that his hearing is gonna get worse anyway so LMAO - doesn’t wear an aid and hasn’t used sign language in a very long time but still remembers a lot of it - teddy vc: what ?  - does the graffiti on the weekends , pls dont tell his mom ; art is his “hobby” as his dad would say , v artistic and likes to go to moca on their free nights  - loves all kinds of music, esp mongolian throat singing ; impressionism is his favorite art movement ; thinks rupi kaur is a charlatan but she’s making money off white people so : / - has a tattoo on his right buttcheek bc why not , someone probably dared him to - naturally wakes up at 6 am, no matter how late he was up the night before ; goes on morning runs  - incidentally, he also takes a lot of naps during the day - is technically (f)unemployed ; answers craigslist ads for cash, nothing shady, just like cleans old ladies homes and helps people move furniture - owns a second hand bicycle with a woven basket in the front uwu ; may or may not have found it at a junk yard - will stop to pet a dog on the side of the street ; will also point out animals when he passes them   - think andy dwyer, john mulaney, jake peralta, miles morales, jason mendoza and others i cant care to look up rn but u get the idea i hope 

possible connections

roommates / housemates, classmates / schoolmates, friends, enemies ( tho he’d probably cry if u told him u didnt like him ), lovers / ex lovers, etc. whatever come yell at me if u want something. find me here or on discord ( 𝖎𝖈𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖞 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙, 𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖈#3596 ) 

[cornacopicimagines]

listen up loser!

not my gif

pairing ; peter parker x vigilante!reader

words ; 2k

warnings ; violence, fluff?

request ; Hi! Is it okay to request a peter parker x reader where the reader is peters classmate and also a vigilate and spider man they kinda flirt(awkwardly) while kicking ass and like the reader goes like 'as i always say...' And spiderman finds out shes his classmate bc she also have said it to peter at class?? Thank you!

masterlist

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

y/n stared at the large purple bruise on her forearm. it was clear she hadn't gotten it from a fall like she had been telling everyone. why did she go on patrol last night, it was supposed to be his night. now look at her, she was littered with bruises. luckily for her most of them were hidden underneath her shirt and long jeans, it was only the stupid ones that peaked out from under her sleeve and appeared on her neck.

"y/n!" a voice called out. jumping in her own skin, y/n slammed her locker shut and quickly tried to conceal her bruises. ned and peter came into view, ned was smiling brightly as he skipped his way over to her while peter was trailing slowly behind but still just as happy to see one of his favourite classmates. "did you hear that karma was on the streets last night," ned almost squealed like a fangirl. y/n smiled softly as she swallowed a large hit of pain.

"and how do you know that," y/n chuckled as she slung her bag over her back, trying her hardest not to cringe in hurt.

"i saw her in all her glory," ned spoke confidently as he pulled out his phone and showed y/n a poorly photographed picture of the vigilante. y/n wanted to grab ned's phone and throw it all way across queens but instead, she gave him a weak smile and coughed loudly. here eyes travelled towards peter and spotted that he was staring straight at the bruises that were covering her arms and neck. blushing hard and trying her best to conceal her marks.

"we have to get to class," y/n blurted out as she quickly snatched peter's hand and pulled him down the hall to try and avoid ned's pestering questions about her alter ego.

peter and y/n zipped down the busy halls, quickly passing people with agility before the pair made it to the busy tight corridor.

"i never thought you could run that fast," peter exclaimed softly as he stared at her with wide eyes. y/n felt her cheeks get hot and butterflies swarm her stomach. she needed to get this crush under control, every time peter even shot her a smile she would just combust. he could say the most simple compliment towards her and y/n would almost choke. this wasn't the first time she had found attraction, little does all her classmates know, she would throw flirts and sexual lines back and forth with spiderman himself.

before y/n could utter some form of a sentence a long arm wrapped around her bruises next making her winch loudly. she peered up and saw flash smirking down at her with a hint of lust in his eyes. "how's my favourite girl doing," he winked at her.

anger filled her body as she thought she had given him a nudge in his lower abdomen with her elbow, but flash was almost on the floor groaning in agony. peter stared in amazement at y/n's sudden outburst of strength. y/n held her hand out to help flash from him position of the cold concrete before almost sprinting into the classroom to avoid the stares.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

peter sat in utter adoration as he stared at y/n while she was furrowing her perfectly plucked brows. it was no surprise that peter had developed strong feelings for y/n, i mean every guy who she even looked at fell for her. all of her friends never understood why she was still single.

peter was always confused as to why she was friends with him and need. she had never-ending offers to sits amongst the most popular students, nearly every girl wanted to become friends with her and every guy had at least tried once to ask her out. peter just couldn't decipher it. 

there was something about y/n that perked his interest though. he had picked up something she was subconsciously setting down for him. he noticed the bags under her sparkling e/c eyes. he spotted that she was wearing long sweaters and jeans on ungodly hot days and she sometimes came to school with sunglasses to hide something on her eyes. did he need to mention that she could run impossible laps of the gym without even losing her breath or that she was strong, extremely strong, she had successfully taken down one of the school's strongest bullies like he was a rag doll. it didn't add to him.

peter was snapped out of his thoughts as y/n waved her manicured hand infront of his face to bring him back to reality. peter shook his previous thoughts out of his head and now focus more on what y/n said and not on y/n's outside life. 

"were you even listening to a word i said pete?" y/n asked him with annoyance lacing her tone. 

peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "could you tell me again." 

"the teacher handed out our assignment and said we are supposed to do it in pairs," y/n smiled brightly at him, waiting for him to give her the exact same response. peter instead cocked his eyebrow in confusion. "i want to work with you idiot," y/n sighed loudly at peter's innocent ignorance. 

"are you sure," peter questioned her. 

"and why wouldn't i" y/n exclaimed crossing her arms over her chest. 

"maybe because you have a certain suitor asking for your hand," peter scoffed as he pointed towards to flash who was flexing and blowing kisses towards y/n's directions. 

y/n laughed loudly, "oh god no, what a nightmare that would be," y/n chuckled as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear something that left peter flustered. "besides, why can't i work with my best friend and the smartest guy in the room," y/n smiled softly. 

"are you 100% sure, because i don't want to be ditched like ned did to me so he could work with michelle," peter rambled on before y/n placed her hand on the edges of his broad shoulders and shut him up instantly. 

"listen up loser," y/n almost yelled at him, "i want to work with you even if you weren't even in this class!" y/n told him proudly trying to calm his nerves. peter couldn't help but let his anxiety slip away as soon as her famous catchphrase left her lips. she had been saying ever since they started high school, if peter cold identify her, for one thing, it would be that sentence. 

"okay okay, i believe you," peter rushed out, trying to calm her down now. beaming widely, y/n squealed and clapped her hands in excitement.

  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

peter sat on one of queens' many buildings, his suit hugged tightly and his adrenaline was pumping, he was ready for patrol. although waiting for his partner was less than thrilling. peter had recently just met this vigilante named karma, she looked about his age and seemed fine with him, so he asked if she would like to partner up and she happily agreed. 

"you look lonely lover boy," a feminine voice spoke behind him, peter swivelled around and saw karma making her way next to him. she was wearing her normal uniform which was latex pants, a black spaghetti top and a black leather jacket to tie the outfit together. she definitely reminded him of someone. 

"i was," peter toyed back with her. "that was until you showed up," he nudged her side slightly. karma gave him a small smile behind her black lipstick. 

"what have i missed spidey," karma asked him with his nickname almost rolling off her lips. peter didn't respond right away, he hesitated asked karen to ran a face scan on her. karma stopped him though because her masked eyes squinted in suspicion. peter coughed, "nothing at all, it's not boring for my liking."

"really," karma cocked her eyebrow, "would you like to make some trouble mr. spiderman," karma got up close to him, he could feel her hot breath on face under his mask. before he could give her a quick one-liner, there was an explosion in a nearby bank. both heroes became attracted to the sudden outburst of violence. peter spotted a gang full of armed robbers and what seemed like a metahuman in the middle.

"you take the front, i'll take the back," karma ordered, peter thought otherwise since he could make absolutely no noise but before he could protest karma had already fled their resting spot and carefully pranced down a tight alleyway. peter sighed in annoyance as he swung off to face the villains head on. 

  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

karma had arrived just before peter did, both terribly wounded. she had a large gash on the back of her leg, peter, on the other hand, had bullet wound deep in his left shoulder and a cut on his abdomen. karma knew she could easily overcome her wounds, she silently prayed that one of her powers was fast healing but she knew peter would surely die from his. he was bleeding out fast. 

karma went to rip some fabric off her t-shirt and ran to peter's side as he fell to the ground in pain. she started to patch his wound, trying desperately to stop the excessive bleeding. peter tried to stop her seeing her blood stain her pants and trickle to her feet. 

"karma please, you need it more than i do," peter pleaded, "i will be fine," he tried once more, this time he placed his hand on her wrist in an attempt to halt her actions, "please, i will get through this patch yourself up first before me," he spoke again this time with concern in his voice. karma halted for a moment, peter finally thought she was going to do as he was telling her to do. instead, she peered up at him with a fire in her eyes.

"listen up loser," karma yelled at him, "i am doing this for you whether you like it or not," she told him off, peter almost thought he saw small tears. peter shut his mouth and let karma patch him up while he contemplated how stupid he had been,

karma is y/n. y/n is karma. it explained everything, the bruises and cuts from fights. her strength and stamina for her nightly patrols. now that he realised who she was he could see the resemblance as clear as day. what he was going to do next was probably the riskiest thing he has ever done. 

"thank you y/n," peter spoke softly waiting for her reaction. karma looked at his with utter shock in her eyes. 

"what did you just say," karma exclaimed with her voice faulting slightly, her eyes not leaving peter's masked face. 

peter's slowly pulled the mask off his face exposing his secret identity to her. karma's almost gasped before she did the same slipping the mask off her face. 

"how did you even know, you didn't stalk me right," y/n asked him reluctantly. 

"no," peter laughed quietly, "that stupid catchphrase that you live by," peter responded to her rolling his eyes at the memories. y/n rubbed her forehead and sighed loudly. 

"i thought i was safe with that," y/n sighed with a tinge of laughter. "i'm glad it was you," y/n told him.

i feel the same, finally someone who understands the constant struggle," peter responded, he was truly happy that person who was fighting by his side was also walking next to him in the hallway and the same person that he trusted everything with. y/n showed her trademark beaming smile before she softly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a warm embrace. feeling finally free, like a weight has been lifted off his chest, he snaked his own arms around y/n's waist and returned the tight hug. 

    ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

a/n the ending is so shit wowie  

[rivertellsstories]

The Tuck family throughout the years

Word count: around 6000

Proofread: ha. Please tell me if there are words missing, it happens a lot

Summary: a prequel to the musical from Mae’s point of view

Warnings: Jesse falls from a tree (starts after ‘that’s just how parenting works’ and ends at ‘it wasn’t like Mae Tuck had never noticed…’)

The first time Mae had really spoken to Angus was when she was a tiny, but feisty eleven year old and he a clumsy twelve year old with two left hands. Of course she knew his name, because in this little town in the west, everybody knew each other.

She had been feeding the chickens on the farm when her father had introduced a gaggle of boys to her. None of them had been farmers’ sons and her father was kind enough to teach these children all about a farmer’s life. When these boys got married, they would probably be marrying into a farmer’s family and it would be a bit late for them to learn how to milk cows then. By letting these boys help him, her father killed two birds with one stone. They got education out of it and he a helping hand.

“Mae, could you tell them what you are doing right now?” The urge to roll her eyes became nearly unbearable, but she decided to be polite. “Feeding the chickens. Does one of you want to help me?” Some of the boys scoffed and one grinned. Typical. The lot of them felt too high and mighty to get mud on their shoes and approach a bunch of stinking birds. She felt sorry for the future wives of these boys.

“I’ll help.” A big boy said and Mae flashed him a smile. While he climbed over the fence and went toward her, she observed him. She noticed how he fiddled with his sleeves and the way he carried himself. Insistently he looked at the floor, as though he was hoping that it would swallow him. She handed him the bucket with food and watched as it slipped from his fingers and crashed onto the ground. Perplexed she blinked a few times and as she stared at him in bewilderment, his face coloured a deep shade of red. He kneeled to get the bucket while simultaneously getting mud on his pants and Mae groaned, while the other boys laughed in the background.

The malicious sound of their laughter made Mae glare into their direction. With her hands on her hips, she yelled: “You lazy bunch of good-for-nothings should shut your traps!” For a moment it shut them up, but then the snickering started again and some of them mimicked her stance while whispering in high-pitched voices. Frustrated, she grabbed Angus’ sleeve and pulled him along to the house. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I can’t handle this much stupid at once, so I’ll come along.” From a distance she could hear her father lecturing the boys and she smiled in satisfaction, though she still hated it that they hadn’t taken her seriously.

A few days after that incident, she ran into Angus again. Well, it was hard to not run into someone if they were in the same class as you. There were around fifty children in their class, all from various ages. The teacher didn’t get a lot done with his enormous group of students, but Mae had learned how to read, write and count so she was pretty much satisfied.

He was seated on the corner of a bench on the last row and the other boys on the bench were trying to shove him off of it. Irritation was painted across his face, but he still said nothing to them. Stubbornly, he kept pushing them back. The whole scene was so damned stupid that Mae couldn’t help but comment on it.

“You know, if you all stop pushing and pulling, you could all sit comfortably on that bench. Hell, I could join you all and there still would be space enough.”

“Are you that desperate to join us sweetheart?” a boy named William leered. Unimpressed she gave him a onceover. “No, I have more class than that. I just saw you all being stupid and thought that it would be kind of me to help you all out.” Immediately after that sentence she turned around and took her usual seat in the front. The whole lesson long, the boys she heard the boys whisper but paid them no mind.

That afternoon, she found herself at the river just outside her town. Those boys had gotten tired of gossiping about her and had taken to tugging on her hair. It had been grating on her nerves, but she was far too proud to even spare them a glance. As she watched the river slowly lapping at the shore, she calmed down. People were and would always, be kind of stupid. Life was just trying to figure out how to deal with all the different kinds of stupid you met.

Behind her, she heard a branch snap and someone breathing a soft “Oh.” As she turned around, she recognized Angus. Her eyebrows shot up in confusion until she saw the fishing rod in his hand and remembered that he was the son of a fisher. He gave her an awkward wave and said: “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Why would I want that? I don’t own this place.” He shrugged. “I feel like we’ve ran into each other an absurd amount of times this past week and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I swear I’m not following you around.”

“That’s considerate of you. Your presence doesn’t bother me, so feel free to…” she gestured at the river. “fish or something.” Nervously he nodded and picked at his shirt. “I’m not very good at doing things when people are watching me.”

“Well then”, Mae said and a smile tugged on her lips,“ I suppose that you’ll have to get used to my presence then. Let’s be friends.” She mimicked tipping a non-existent hat. “Mae Miller, pleasure to meet you.” He curtsied clumsily and she laughed. “Angus Tuck at your service.”

-

Over the years, Angus and Mae became regular appearances at each other’s houses. Angus had become quite skilled at feeding chickens by then and James, Angus’ father, had dubbed Mae an expert fisherwoman. Seventeen year old Angus had also grown out of his gangly awkwardness and had become, as Mae’s mother put it, a most handsome and capable young man. Mae had snorted at that comment and Angus had kicked her underneath the table.

Angus’ mother had called Mae a gentle and most beautiful lady. Angus had laughed out loud at that and she had chased him around his house with a fishing rod. Just as she thought she had cornered him, he opened the door and escaped. She could have given up at that moment, but stubborn as she was, she let out a war cry and followed her friend.

At the river, they collapsed underneath a tree. As she laid her head on his shoulder, she gave him a half-assed tap on the head with the fishing rod. “You deserve that. For being mean.”

She got a snort in return. “Excuse you. You also made fun of me when your mom complimented me.” With a smile dancing around her lips, she squished his cheeks. “It’s not that I don’t agree with my mother. You are a most handsome man, but it’s the ‘capable’ part that got me. I got instant flashbacks to our first meeting.”

Groaning, he laid his head upon hers. “Erase that from your memory please. Forget it ever happened.” As she answered him with a: “No way, that’s my best memory of you”, he got up and took the rod out of her hand. With fondness she watched as he wrote with it on the wet riverside. Angus loved to write poems on the wet sand and watch the water erase it forever. Mae held this knowledge close to her heart and wondered if he would ever tell her what he wrote down. She could never decipher his writing but hoped that maybe one day, he would tell her.

Suddenly, a smug smile broke through his pensive demeanour. “So you think I’m handsome huh?” For a moment she was confused as to what he was talking about. Then it hit her and she shrugged. “Duh, I have eyes.” She’s not going to stroke his ego by blushing and stuttering, though she felt like her heart was going to leap right out of her chest. “But I’m not the only one. If I have to listen to Catherine Davis talking about you one more time, I will fling myself into this river.”

The annoyance on her face made him laugh. “I suppose you don’t have the trouble of people talking like that about me.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve got many friends beside you, Mae.”

“Even if you did, I doubt that they had anything nice to say about the redheaded goblin girl.” With a frown on his face, he sat down beside her and jostled their shoulders together. “Hey, hey. What’s that face for?” he asked as he gently poked her cheek. “I don’t know”, she said listlessly as she held a fiery red curl between her fingertips. “I just feel…less than the other girls. I feel as though I’m too annoying, as though my laugh is ugly and my hair too red. I feel as though being less visually appealing makes me less of a human being to other people.”

She let out a choked laugh. “Isn’t that funny?” she asked with tears brimming her eyes. “Mae Miller” he breathed and wrapped his arms around her. Immediately she buried her face in his chest and hoped that he wouldn’t notice that she was crying. But her shoulders jolted as she sobbed and he hugged her tighter. Being in his arms was warm and soothing and slowly she calmed down.

As she withdrew herself from his arms, she apologized. “Sorry. That was a bit overdramatic of me, I believe.” The sentence made him glower. “Like hell it was. You listen to me Mae Miller and listen well. First off, whoever made you feel this way can go to hell. Second off, sometimes you are annoying, but you annoy me in the best way possible. You’re fierce, stubborn and gentle at the same time and it’s amazing. Thirdly, your laugh isn’t ugly. You may sounds like a dying pig, but it’s cute I swear. And lastly, your are gorgeous.”

In the way he set his jaw, she knew that he was ready to argue about it for hours if needed. “I’ll accept that I’m awesome”, she said and Angus pumped his arm in victory. “But I stand by the fact that red is an ugly colour.” When she saw his raised eyebrow, she knew that he had taken the sentence as a challenge. “I’ll make you eat those words”, he promised her.

It was barely six in the morning and someone was tapping on her window. Confused and still sleepy, she got out of bed and walked towards her window. When she saw Angus’ face, she looked at the fishing rod on her wall. It had been a gift for her twelfth birthday. She hadn’t been friends with Angus that long at that point and he had been quite clueless about what to give her. Over the years the rod had become an object that she connected with fond memories. It would be a shame if she broke it while whacking Angus over the head with it, but it would also be a beautiful tribute to their friendship. The handing over of the fishing rod would become a full cycle as it got reunited with its first owner.

Sighing deeply, she opened the window. “What are you doing here? The sun isn’t even up yet.” He gave her a self-satisfied smirk. “Exactly. Now get some clothes on and come with me. I promise it’ll be worth it.” The protest died in her throat as she heard the excitement in his voice. “Give me twenty minutes”, she groaned.

Twenty minutes later, she and Angus were sitting on a hill, a blanket underneath them and a basket between them. “Angus, what are we doing here?” she asked and he shushed her. “Wait”, he told her and passed her some bread from the basket. As she slowly munched on the fresh loaf of bread, the sun started to rise.

A gentle red coloured the sky and Mae forgot to breathe for a moment. Soon other colours followed and various shades of red, orange and yellow danced across the sky. The chill morning air and the chirping of birds, combined with the taste and smell of fresh bread turned this sunrise magical in a way that Mae would never be able to describe. “Oh Angus”, she sighed. “This is stunning.” As he watched sunbeams highlight her freckles and morning light set her red hair ablaze, he breathed a quiet: “Yeah.”

-

Angus’ eighteenth birthday was coming up and Mae had a vague idea about what to get him. The only problem was that to get her gift, she had to leave town. To make the surprise bigger, she decided to not tell Angus that she would be gone for a few days.

When she returned, she had a hard time finding him. This was both confusing and worrisome at the same time, because she thought that knew Angus well enough to tell where he would be by now. What was even weirder to her, was the fact that Angus’ mother had refused to talk to her and had slammed the door as soon as she saw Mae.

There was one place she hadn’t checked yet and she felt kind of dumb when she found Angus there. Of course he would be at the river, scratching poems into the mud. She frowned when she saw the bitter expression on his face. “Hey Angus, what’s going on?” she yelled and when he turned to face her, she saw tears on his face. Within seconds, she had his face in her hands. “Who?” she asked furiously. “I thought you decided that I wasn’t worth the effort anymore”, he confessed. “I thought you left.” While swallowing her own tears down, she reassured that she wouldn’t, hell she couldn’t, would never be able to leave him. “Angus Tuck, you’re one of a kind. There’s no way you’ll ever get rid of me.” She pressed a packet into his hands. “I was actually getting this for you. Eighteen tomorrow huh?” With shaking hands he opened the present, unveiling a sketchbook and a set of pencils. “Now you can write your poems down, if you want to.” He stared at the present for a long time and Mae started to get worried. “Angus? You alright?” He threw his arms around her and spun her around enthusiastically. “Mae Miller, you’re amazing.”

-

“Mae, I need your help”, nineteen year old Angus said as he stormed into her house. She looked up from the table she had been setting and saw her friend wiping his undoubtedly sweaty hands on his trousers. “Hello Angus”, Mae’s mom chirped and gave her daughter an big wink. Mae stared at her mom in utter confusion before turning towards her friend. “Whose body do I need to bury?” she asked grinning and her mother bristled. Angus ignored Mae’s mother and blurted: “Teach me how to dance.”

For a moment she was confused, but then she remembered that within a week the spring festival would be held. “Angus you sly dog”, she grinned. “Are you planning on asking a girl to dance on the last night of the spring festival?” Asking someone to dance with you then, was like asking their hand in marriage. He nodded. “Yes. I’m planning on asking the best girl of all.” The words made something inside of Mae twist and churn, but she decided to ignore it. “Well then big boy, auntie Mae will make sure that you don’t stomp on her feet too often.”

“Angus, what are you doing?” “Dancing” he huffed in a frustrated manner. He was getting impatient but there was no way that Mae was allowing him to enter the dance floor with his current skills. She told him that he was dancing off beat and he grumbled that there was no beat to be off to. “Wait a minute”, she said and let go of his hands. When she returned, she had a music box in her hands. “Here’s your beat.”

Admittedly, it went way better with the gentle music playing in the background. “You’re doing rather well”, she told him and he grinned. “Should I try anything fancy? Maybe dip you or something?” “Absolutely not”, she laughed. Twirling through the living room with Angus’ arms around her felt pleasant. His body was warm against hers and she swore that she could feel his heartbeat. When their eyes met, she shivered and the grip he had on her tightened the tiniest bit. “I think you’ll do great”, she managed to say and pulled back. “Good luck with asking your girl.”

The evening of the dance Mae pestered Angus to go seek his girl. “Man up Angus Tuck and ask her!” He gave her a confident nod and strode away and came right back. “Angus, what are you?” Mae stared in confusion until he held his hand out. “May I have this dance?” For a moment she was completely and utterly speechless. Then she threw herself into his arms with a dazzling smile. “Yes Angus. I personally give you permission to ruin my toes again. I love you, you big doofus.” Before they got to the dancing part, they were already kissing.

-

There was something different about todays twenty year old Angus Tuck and Mae couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was. He had been grinning and smiling all day and whenever she asked about it, he rebuffed it. Her and his parents seemed to be in on it as well and they wouldn’t give anything away either. It was frustrating to say the least.

Seeing her mother’s music box in Angus’ hands was what finally gave away what was about to happen. Her mother had told her how Mae’s grandmother had given it to her daughter’s future husband. The day of the ceremony itself, Mae’s father had given it to her mother. Now, Mae’s mother had given it to Angus and Mae couldn’t be happier.

It was late in the evening and Angus had taken her to the river. Out of his pocket he got the sketchbook she had given him for his eighteenth birthday. This was the first time he allowed her to read one of his poems and anticipation built in her chest as he started to speak.

“April’s kiss, our very first

May there be more to come

In true love I’ve been immersed

And each day, I’ll give you some

You knew it all along

So did I

It was plain to see

April, May, June, July

A Sunday when the chapel’s free

True love is in short supply

Darling Mae,

Marry me”

“Yes” she breathed and kissed her future husband deeply. “Gods yes.”

-

The news spread fast. Everywhere they went, be it alone or together, people wished them luck with their future marriage and although she got these wishes on a daily basis, she never got tired of them. People whom she had known all her life were congratulating her and it filled her with warmth. Girls who had been in her class stopped her on the street, smiling as they told her about their own wedding and older ladies and mothers told her all about the joys of motherhood. She welcomed every piece of advice about that topic with open arms.

Angus got winks and secretive smiles from the other villagers as well. He went a step further than she did and actively sought out older, married woman to ask them how to be a good husband and listened intently as grandmothers told him fondly about all the little things that made starting your own family so enjoyable.

“Last chance to run lad” an older man had said and Angus had shot him a confused look. “You’re getting tied down soon buddy, this is your last chance to run. Run, or its bye bye freedom and hello to your wife.”, he clarified and Angus had smiled wide. “Wife.” He repeated, letting the word roll around in his mouth before he repeated it louder with a beaming smile. “I’m getting married!” he yelled and ran towards her, picked her up and spun her around. “I’m getting married and you’ll be my wife. I will be your husband.” He was stating obvious facts, but the giddy and obviously elated way he did it, made Mae grin as well. “Indeed. Mae Tuck has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” Angus didn’t stop smiling for the rest of that day.

It was a night in November when they tied the knot and Mae spent the day drunk on utter happiness. She remembered her mother braiding a blackberry bow into her hair, whispering about how her child was growing up. The tears were evident in her voice and Mae had forbidden her from crying with tears in her own eyes. “No crying on my wedding”, she choked out. Mother and daughter hugged before she walked down aisle.

The one who broke the no crying at the wedding rule first was not her mother, but her husband to be himself. As they met before the altar, she gently wiped away the tears on his cheeks. “If you start crying, I’m going to cry too. Stop that you doofus.” He gave her a watery smile. “I’m just so damn happy.” As tears streamed down her face, she chuckled. “Me too.”

They exchanged their vows and had to keep themselves from giggling while doing it. When she was fifteen she had told Angus that vows were stupid and he had agreed. She had it elegantly put it this way: “I don’t give a damn about what he promises me in front of a priest. It’s the everyday life that’ll make me appreciate my future husband, not his fancy words at an event that happens only once in our lives.”

“Mae Tuck”, he started and gave himself to smile about it. “Mae Tuck”, he repeated “You’ve grown on me. Or rather, you stubbornly attached yourself to me and never let go. I love and admire you and I don’t think anything will change that. I look forward to building a life and family together with you, I look forward to waking up next to you, I look forward to…you. And I always will.”

She opened with: “My dearest husband” and Angus gasped at that. God, she loved him. “I look forward to looking back.” The sentence seemed to confuse him, so she explained: “One day when I’m old and grey, I’ll be sitting in a rocking chair as our children and our grandchildren play in our garden. I’ll take your hand like this.” She gently his hand and squeezed it. “and reminiscence about everything we’ve done together. I can’t wait till that day, where I can’t tell my grandchildren about all the times you’ve made me happy in one afternoon, because there will be way too many.”

The two of them were so busy staring at each other that they barely heard the priest say: “You may now kiss the bride.” The kiss they shared was one they would cherish forever.

That night her father danced with her and told her this was one of the best moments of his life and Mae couldn’t agree more.

-

Roughly nine months later, Angus knocked on the Miller’s door in a state of panic. As Sarah, Mae’s mother, opened the door, he gasped: Mae’s giving birth. Please help.“ Within minutes a bunch of older women were helping his wife. They had tried to get him out of the room but he had refused. "Like hell I’ll leave her alone right now”, she heard him say and she giggled through the pain.

A long nine hours later, she was tired out of her mind and her both her husband and new-born were crying. Between his tears he managed to say: “Another milestone in our relationship.” He looked at her with shimmering eyes. “Let’s call him that.” She sat herself up and glared at her husband. “Angus, we’re not calling our son milestone.” He shook his head. “No not milestone, have a bit more faith in me. Miles. Let’s call our boy Miles.” That night she fell asleep with her little Miles tucked between her and her husband.

Miles definitely took more after her than after Angus. But he was way more himself than he was either of them. The stubbornness, that was all her and his studiousness was definitely from Angus’ side. But the things that made Miles unmistakably Miles were his blunt and sharp words. He was polite (they raised their boy right after all), but not interested in faking interest in people or topics he wasn’t interested in. He said exactly what was on his mind and it was both frustrating and endearing.

Five years later, they were blessed with another child. A few days before the child was born, Miles decided that he was going to hate ‘it’ with all his might. The then family of three had sat together and she and Angus had pried until they knew why Miles was so intent on hating his future sibling. “Lizzie says that parents make another child because they aren’t happy with the first.” Her son burst into tears after that and she placed him on her lap and hugged him close. “Oh honey, that’s not true at all. I love you dearly. Daddy and I just thought it would be swell for you to have someone to play with.”

“I already have Rose to play with”, he sulked, “and I’m five and babies are…not.”

Her husband kissed their son on the forehead. “That’s true Miles. But the baby will take a lot of attention and you can help if you want to. Also, never doubt that mommy and I love you. If you ever feel like we’re ignoring you or you want attention, just tug on one of our sleeves. We’re here for you Miles and we’ll always be.”

Miles hiccupped and nodded. “Okay then. I’ll judge it-” “them”, she corrected her son and he pulled a pouty face. “It”, he stubbornly continued. “When it’s born. Acceptable?” It wasn’t ideal, but at least he was willing to compromise. “Acceptable.”

Another baby boy joined the family, Angus cried again and Miles watched his little brother with distaste. “He’s…” Miles seemed to be considering his next words carefully. “Jucky”, he decided and her husband messed up his hair. “We have to wash him dummy.” Miles exited the room immediately with the sentence: “Good luck dad.”

Later that day, Miles climbed on her bed again and watched his brother with curious eyes. “He’s less jucky now”, he said and poked the baby’s cheek. At that moment, he opened his eyes and he and Miles stared at each other. Miles broke the silence. “He can’t do a lot, can he? He’s tiny, dumb and immobile. I’ll have to take very good care of him, don’t I?” Although he had insulted his brother, she heard the affection in his voice and silently, she was proud of him. “What’s his name?” Miles asked, still looking at his sibling. “Daddy and I thought that it would be nice if you chose a name for him.” Miles looked at her in surprise. “Really?” She nodded in confirmation and Miles pondered over it. “Jesse then. His name is Jesse.” The name rung a bell in the back of her mind, but she didn’t know exactly where she had heard the name before. “Jesse is a wonderful name, Miles. Thank you.”

A few days later, Mae left the house with Jesse in her arms. As she exited the door, she heard Rose, their neighbours’ five year old, yell: “Jesse, come here! Here, Jesse, here!” Totally confused she looked at her son in her arms and then she scanned the surroundings. When she laid eyes on Miles, Rose and Rose’s dog, everything fell into place. “MILES TUCK” she screamed. “TELL ME YOU DIDN’T NAME YOUR BROTHER AFTER YOUR NEIGHBOUR’S DOG!“ The guilty look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Jesse and Miles couldn’t be any more different, but Mae Tuck loved her boys nonetheless. Jesse was a naïve kid with an ever-present smile on his face, ready to believe everything people tried to sell him. Miles was a natural scowling sceptic, but both boys shared a curious nature. The could bicker for hours but if both of them wanted to know or do something, they got it done in record time.

-

The year Miles and Jesse turned twenty-two and seventeen respectively, they left their little town in the west to settle in the east. Miles had been grumpy for the whole journey and Jesse wouldn’t stop pestering him. She suspected that Miles’ foul mood was because he had to leave Rose behind. The two had been steadily growing closer and she felt sorry for her oldest son, but their farm had gone up in flames and they had wanted to move eastward for years.

When they were the thirstiest they had been during the trip, they stumbled upon a spring. Before she could stop him, Jesse jumped straight into it. Miles had a little more reservation and kneeled down to drink. While he was drinking, Jesse pulled him into the spring as well and both boys started to fight like little children. Mae watched them with a fond smile and decided to drink as well. Next to her Angus sighed and joined his family as well. The worst this spring could probably do was get one of them sick for a week.

-

Barely a year later, Miles and Rose were reunited. It had been a lazy Monday evening when somebody had knocked on their door. “I’ll get it”, Miles had sighed and when he opened the door, Rose had kissed him smack dab on the lips. For the first time in her life, Mae saw her oldest completely speechless. Her husband snorted in amusement and told Miles: “Let the lady in, you fool. I raised you better than this.” Miles nodded dumbly and stuttering, he offered her a chair.

That evening Rose told them that her old town held no future for her, so she decided to leave. “That town didn’t have what I wanted, so I decided to look for my fortune somewhere else”, she said as she slyly eyed Miles, who turned an interesting shade of red. “That fortune being my brother’s-” “JESSE”

It came as a surprise to nobody when Miles and Rose showed up with matching rings and smiles. With tear-filled eyes she congratulated them and kissed her son and daughter on their cheeks.

The day of the marriage, she braided her own blackberry bow into Rose’s hair. The girl’s own mother didn’t approve of her daughter’s actions and had decided that she wanted to break ties with her daughter. “Rose darling, I want you to know that, even though I wasn’t the one who gave birth to you, you are my daughter and you will always be. You’re a Tuck now and Tuck ties are everlasting. The young woman kissed her cheek and whispered: "Thank you mom. I love you.”

When Thomas was born, Mae saw Angus in Miles more than ever. Just like her husband, her son cried as he held his new-born child and through his tears he smiled and vowed to do everything in his power to protect his child. Jesus Christ, she was a grandmother now.

Everything was perfect and Mae found herself wishing that this moment would last forever.

-

Miles was a loving, but strict parent. Every day he taught Thomas new things and the lessons always started at twelve o'clock sharp. Today, the bouncy seven year old had managed to escape out of his father’s clutches and ran away screaming, Miles hot on his trail. The two of them zoomed through the garden and Thomas yelled for Jesse’s help. Never one to say no to his nephew, Jesse ran past Thomas, gave him a quick high-five and ran straight towards his older brother. “You’re going down Miles!” he screeched as he tackled him to the ground. Thomas had also turned around and just like Jesse, he sat down on his father.

“Dad, we’ve got you! No more lessons for me!” the kid whooped and Miles groaned. “Oh no, I’ve been caught” Miles sighed and played dead. “Noooooo!!!!” Thomas squawked. “You can’t die daddy. Never!” From beneath his son and brother Miles wheezed: “That’s a bit hard kiddo. But I’ll promise you this: I will always be there for you.” Thomas looked at his father with the wide eyed look all children seemed to possess up to a certain age. “Promise?” he asked and Miles pushed Jesse of his body and snuggled his son close. “Promise buddy.”

Something unreadable crossed over Rose’s face, who had been watching the scene unfold as well. “Something wrong, honey?” Mae asked and Rose shook her head. “No, just thinking.” Mae watched her with curiosity. “Worrying that hard will give you wrinkles, love.” Rose looked at her husband and son and she seemed to make a decision in her head. “I was just thinking that I would do anything to keep Thomas safe.” Mae gave her an affectionate pat on the head. “You and Miles both, love. That’s just how parenting works.”

-

Everything seemed fine until Jesse fell from the tree in Miles’ backyard and as she caught the moment her youngest son’s body made contact with the ground with a sickening sound, she screamed. Within seconds, she was seated beside him and as she lifted his upper body from the ground, his head lolled back lifelessly. With shaking fingers, Miles reached out towards Jesse. “Mom?” his voice sounded so small and instantly she was reminded of him and Jesse playing as children in their old yard. “Mom is he…” Miles couldn’t get the word ‘dead’ over his lips. Rose, who hadn’t seen what happened came closer. “What is going-oh my god.” She softly tucked a few strands of bloodstained blond hair behind his ear. “Jesse”, she breathed and Mae could hear the pain and sadness Rose felt as she looked at her younger brother’s body. Mae herself felt numb. There was no way that Jesse, her youngest, was gone already right?

With a cough, Jesse shot up. “Fuck!” he yelped. “That hurt!” While he was busy spitting out blood, the realisation that he had survived falling from a great height while landing on his head. The same disbelief was painted over Miles’ and Rose’s faces, but what could they do?

-

It wasn’t like Mae Tuck had never noticed that she looked really good for her age. This seemed to be a shared family trait, as her husband and sons seemed to be ageless as well. It could be considered a blessing, until the moment Jesse barely looked older than Thomas and Rose had almost as much grey hairs as Mae herself.

-

One day, Mae came home to her oldest sitting at her dinner table, hands in his dark brown hair. “Miles?” she called out and when he looked up, his face crumpled and he broke into tears. “They’re gone.” She wished that she didn’t immediately know what he was talking about. Rose had done what she considered the best for her child.

Hopelessly, she tried to console him. At that moment, Jesse entered the room with dishevelled clothes and rapidly healing bruises on his face. Without him telling her, she knew that he had taken a fall again. She didn’t want to think about the fact that it may not have been a fall at all.

As she sat there with her boys in her arms and her husband nowhere in sight (he was probably sleeping again. As of late, thathad been happening a lot), she hoped that time would heal their wounds. Time. They had plenty of it now and Mae wondered if it was worth it.

[cometkittiesoriginalcontent]

My Life as a Background Character: My Crush Cast a Spell on Me

        Greendale is a place that has seen its fair share of crazy happenings. You can walk down the street and see all kinds of people of all different backgrounds and colors. Some with more limbs than others and some may be hiding fangs but they are all a part of this town that I call home. Despite the craziness that is Greendale, we also have ordinary everyday people, like me. While the wild and scary things may stick out and capture people’s attention the world is made up primarily of the mundane and ordinary and Greendale is no exception. These ordinary people exist alongside the abnormal, sometimes in harmony sometimes not. Some seek out excitement and want to be extraordinary while others are content as they are. Greendale is a place unlike any other and you never know what is going to happen next.

       Going to school every day is a struggle. Sitting through classes, hearing the teachers drone on and on about whatever topic, while your classmates whisper around you is the most boring thing a person can be subjected to. The only things that make coming to this torture chamber bearable are my friends. I don’t know what I would do without them. The other thing that makes coming to this prison worthwhile is that I get to see Daniel Winters, the most wonderful and amazing guy I have ever met. He does not stand out much in the sea of faces, preferring to just stand back and let the louder voices speak. He is, however, incredibly kind and has the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen. But most importantly Daniel’s a normie like me. In the sea of crazy that is this town; Daniel and I are both plain and ordinary people, not destined for anything extraordinary or fantastic. As much as I love my friends and the rest of this crazy town, it’s nice to know that someone is just as boring as I am.

       Today is the day. I am finally going to go up to him and tell him how I feel. We do not talk much but we have been in the same class since pre-k. The only time in my life that I can remember him not being there was when he disappeared to his Aunt Sylvia’s house for a few months this last summer. Other than that his presence has been a constant in my life. I know what his voice sounds like as it travels over a crowded cafeteria. I know the path he takes to school every day and where he likes to go on the weekends. I know his birthday and his favorite type of cake. I know everything about him and it just makes me love him even more. Today, I am going to tell him that. My friends have been building up my confidence lately. I mean if I can face off against a super villain or a vampire, how hard can it be to talk to a boy?

        Very hard apparently. I have tried to approach him a total of seven times throughout the school day and every time something happens! The first three times were my fault because I kept chickening out, but the other four times were infuriating! Why is his friend chuck always with him? Doesn’t he have classes to get to? And why did today have to be spirit day? I finally got him alone and had actually asked if I could speak to him in private when the entire marching band and cheer squad started marching down the hallway. I tried to speak over them but he couldn’t hear me and then Eliza, being full of pep and cheer, grabbed my hand and forced me into the crowd as it made its way to the gym. I hate football season.

       So now I’m stuck standing in the bleachers at some lame pep rally instead of telling the boy of my dreams how I feel and running off into the sunset. Well maybe not the sunset, it is only 3 o’clock after all. Eliza is out there cheering with her squad as the football players get pumped for yet another Friday night. I have to remember to ask her how she hides her wings when she’s wearing her uniform. The cheers and shouts of the assembled students ring in my ears as my failure settles in and eats at me. Well, at least I tried.

        The pep rally finally ends and all of the students are dismissed. I walk out dejectedly with Matt trailing behind me talking about his date with Evan tonight. I wish I had a date tonight but the universe decided it was not to be.

       “Hey Annie, look who it is!” Matt says knowingly, pointing to Daniel. Maybe the universe is giving me another chance.

       “Hey Matty, listen, I’ve gotta go. It was nice talking to you and I’m sure you and Evan will have oodles of fun on your date. Talk to you later. Bye!” I say as I rush after Daniel’s retreating form. He seems to be going back in to the school instead of leaving like the rest of us. Weird. I follow him quietly, waiting for him to stop so I can talk to him properly. He finally does and I take a deep breath to prepare myself, but when I open my mouth to call out to him he walks into a nearby broom closet. Even weirder.

       I walk up to the door and listen to the sound of his voice as it travels through the wood. He seems to be talking to himself. I decide that it would be best to announce my presence, so I open the door. “Hey, Daniel we didn’t get a chance to talk earlier,” I say as I poke my head inside, just in time to see his blue eyes go wide and a green light emanate from the stick he is holding before it begins to envelop him. I close my eyes against the brightness and when I open them Daniel is gone.

        I sat on the floor of that broom closet for a while just thinking of all of the possibilities. Is Daniel a mutant? A vampire? Something else? Why is everyone around me something else? I thought I knew him. I thought he was like me. Normal. But normal people don’t have magic wands or vanish in a flash of light! The janitor eventually came along and kicked me out but I was not ready to go home. I took a detour through Emery Park where I have been pacing back and forth for the past two hours. I thought I knew him. I thought I knew everything about him. I know his class schedule, who his friends are, where he lives. I know that he often smells like lavender from his mom’s flower shop. I know that he likes to go to the arcade every Saturday and what games he favors. But I did not know this. I did not know that he has some kind of magical powers. Did I ever actually know anything about him?

       A pair of hands suddenly grabs me from behind as I’m surrounded by that same green light from earlier. I close my eyes tight and feel myself floating for a moment. When my feet hit solid ground once more I yank myself away, falling to the floor in the process. I look up and see Daniel looking down at me, his face unreadable. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he says in a tired-sounding voice. I’ve discovered his biggest secret and now he has to deal with me. He begins pacing the room, rubbing the back of his neck and running his hand through his hair. I just stay where I am on the ground and take in the vial filled room around us. Is that a cauldron? I really hope he doesn’t decide to put me in there. I’m too young to become soup!

       He finally stops his pacing and muttering and heaves a big sigh. As he turns to look at me I hold my breath, scared of what he will say next. “I’m sorry” he says, as he comes over to me,” I should not have abducted you like that, but I really needed to talk to you about what you saw today. It’s kind of a big secret and no one is supposed to know.” He stoops down and offers me his hand. As he helps me to my feet I realize how ridiculous I was being. I may not know him as well as I thought, but I do know that he would never try and cook me. He’s too nice for that.

       “I’m the one who should be sorry. I should not have followed you into the closet like that. I promise I won’t tell anyone!”

       “Thank you. If my Parents found out that someone had figured me out I would be sent to live with my Aunt. Not exactly a pleasant thought.” He says with a laugh in his voice. The atmosphere is suddenly tense as both of us avoid eye contact. His hand has found its way to his neck again.

       “So I forgot to ask earlier, but what was it that you wanted to talk to me about earlier today?” He says as he looks at me again. For a second I lose my train of thought as my eyes catch his. His words sink in and I remember my quest from earlier today. It seems like so long ago now. I feel my face heating up and I know I’m blushing. This is my chance! We are finally alone together and his attention is solely on me.

       “It was nothing worth talking about,” I find myself saying. The truth is I can’t bring myself to tell him knowing what I know now. I thought I was in love with him, but I knew nothing about him. We hardly even spoke to each other and now I’ve gone and forced my way into his life. Telling him how I feel would be selfish at this point.

       “Are you sure?” he asks. I just nod and give him a reassuring smile. That is a conversation for another day.

        I ended up staying at his house until after the sun had gone down. He had not had anyone his own age to talk to about his powers and was excited to finally have a friend to discuss it with. He showed me around his workroom and let me flip through his spellbook. It was the most I had ever spoken to him. I went home with a smile on my face, realizing that we are actually friends now and that this meant I might actually get to spend time with him. I feel guilty about walking in on him like that but some good came out of it. I also think that if he spends some time with me then maybe he will grow to like me just as much as I like him. I could not wait to see him again the next day. I went home and got ready for bed. I went to sleep that night dreaming of blue eyes and magic potions.

        The next day I woke up early so I could get ready to go over to Daniel’s house again. He asked me to come back because he wanted to show me some big project he is working on. He seemed really excited about it and said he wanted my opinion on it. He actually wants my opinion on something! I spent the morning trying on everything in my closet. It may not be a date but I still want to look my best. Maybe he’ll see me all dressed up and realize that he wants to be more than friends. It’s unlikely, but a girl can still hope.

       I walk the three blocks over to his place and knock on the door. He answers immediately with a big smile on his face. He has such a pretty smile. He ushers me in and we make our way down into his workroom, laughing and joking around on our way down the steps. There is a stool set up in the middle of the room and he directs me to sit at it. I can help the giggles that escape me as I take in how dramatic he is being about this entire thing.

       “Good evening ladies and gentleman!” he says with a flourish, barely containing his own giggles as he swishes a cape around his shoulders. “Prepare to be amazed as I, the great Danini, present to you my life’s work!”

       “You know you are only 15, right?” I laugh as he nearly trips over his cape, which I now realize is a throw blanket he probably stole from his parents' couch. He shoots a sheepish grin my direction and I feel my heart skip a beat. This boy is completely ridiculous but he is also completely perfect.

       “I must ask the audience to save their commentary until after the show,” he says as he gives me a pointed look, his brown hair falling into his eyes. I mime zipping my lips and he smiles back at me.

       “About a year ago our little town was changed forever. The citizens were changed into mutants and the only known cure was destroyed! Until now.” He looks at me to gauge my reaction but I’m frozen. A cure? For mutants? What is he talking about? When I don’t react he continues. “Many believe that the cause of the mutations was scientific, a chemical spill or leak causing the changes we have seen, but that is not the case! The source is in fact magical. Some witch or wizard’s spell gone awry. The so-called cure that they gave out only worked because it contained a certain magical ingredient, an ingredient that was missing in the second batch of cures. I believe that I can create a potion that will cure all of the mutants in town, even after a year’s time! Isn’t that great!”

       “Yeah, it is,” I say without much conviction. All I can think of is Eliza and her father. All of the hate they have received and all of the good they have done with their powers. They could be cured, but after all of this time, would they want to be. Daniel continued on, explaining the process to me but I could not hear a word he said. My mind had flown far away. Maybe this is a good thing. Eliza and her dad could be normal again and if the cure works, the town won’t even need superheroes anymore. She could stop being Dragonfly and go back to being my best friend.

        I leave Daniel’s house a little while later, promising to help him with his project in any way I can. He says he needs to find a test subject to try out the potion on. My brain immediately goes to my best friend, but I know she would not agree. I still call her and Matt up and ask to meet them at Eliza’s house. I need someone to talk to about all of this.

       I arrive at Eliza’s and find the two of them upstairs, gushing about Evan together like a couple of regular teenagers. I can almost forget that the boy they are talking about has fangs and a penchant for blood. Their lives are so much more complicated than mine. I miss the days when we were all normal. I catch their attention and begin telling them about all I had learned. I just hope that Daniel will forgive me for revealing his secret.

       “So you are telling me that ol’ blue eyes is a witch and he wants to cure me of my mutanism?” Eliza says angrily. I knew she would not take this well. She loves being a superhero.

       “Yes. He has figured out a way to cure the entire town! Isn’t that amazing?” I say, knowing that my word would upset her. She looks as though she want to slap some sense into me. Matt’s hand on hers seems to be the only thing holding her back. Before I realize what I’m saying all of my thoughts about this spring forth from my mouth. I tell her that if there are no more mutants then she won’t have to fight crime anymore. I tell her that she can be normal again. I even mention that maybe we can find a cure for Vampirism too! Everyone can be normal again!

       “Why would anyone want to be normal? It’s so boring! I don’t even want to go back to that! I’m actually somebody now, I actually matter to people. I would hate to be just a normie!” Eliza shouts. Matt nods his head in agreement.

       “Annie, we like not being normal. Evan and I have even been discussing him turning me.” Matt says carefully. My brain is swimming. He wants to be a vampire now? I understand Eliza wanting to keep her powers, but this? This is too much!

       “You’re right. Who would ever want to be a normie? We are just so plain and boring and ordinary. I don’t even know how you are still friends with someone as pathetic as me!” I cry as I run out of the room. They try to stop me, but I just keep running. My tears are blinding as I run home. Back to my ordinary house with my ordinary parents. Back to my ordinary room. Why would anyone want to be normal? Why would anyone want to be like me?

        It’s Tuesday. Matt and Eliza kept trying to call me and even tried visiting. I turned them away. I convinced my mom to let me skip school on Monday, but she would not allow a second day. I make my way up the stairs to school and head towards my locker. Matt is still at his own so I keep walking. Throughout the day I avoid them. It’s for the best. They don’t need someone as boring as me holding them back. Daniel tries to talk to me too, but I quickly make an excuse and leave. He’s like them. He is special. No one wants a normie like me as a friend, let alone as a girlfriend. I never stood a chance.

        The school day ends and I prepare to head home. Daniel rushes up to me and grabs me by the hand. His wand is out before I can protest and I’m transported, once again, to his workroom. He does not even stop to make sure I was okay before he’s rambling on about his project.

       “I found it! I found the ingredient! I can make the cure!” He says as he walks around the room, pouring and combining different vials and mixtures. I almost want to tell him where he can shove his cure, but I refrain. I know I can never have him, but I still like him too much to be rude. “All I need now is a test subject to prove that it works!”

       His words settle over me like a cloud. I want to tell him that there is no one that would be willing to get rid of their powers. That mutants are fine how they are; that they would not want to go back to be normal after being mutants for so long. But another thought comes to me instead.

       “What about me?” I ask him. He looks at me for a second and laughs. I try not to feel hurt.

“Are you secretly a mutant now Annette?” he chuckles, “I kind of need a mutant to test it, you know, seeing as it is a cure for mutanism?”

       His voice is so condescending as he says this that I almost tear up. He doesn’t take me seriously. Of course he wouldn’t, I’m not special enough to even help him. “Then make me one,” I say with as much conviction as I can. The laughter instantly drains out of his voice. He is looking at me like I had grown two heads. It is a shame that I hadn’t because then he would have his mutant.

       “Annette, I can’t just make you a mutant. That’s crazy!” His hand is back on his neck, he’s thinking again.

       “You said so yourself that the mutations were caused by magic. Well, you’re magic! I know you can pull it off. And besides wouldn’t it be more beneficial if you knew exactly which spell you were countering with your ‘cure’?” He looks at me and all arguments die on his tongue. He knows I’m right.

       “Still I have no clue what kind of mutation you will get or how long you’ll be stuck like that. It’s too risky. I just got you as a friend; I would hate to lose you so soon.” He says this with a smile but I also sense pity in his voice. Everyone has pity for the normie.

      “If I wasn’t okay with the consequences, then I would not be offering. I know mutants in real life and I know all of the things that come along with it. I will be your test subject. I trust you to put me back when this is all over.” I say matter-of-factly. I really hope he agrees. Maybe if I’m not just a normal girl anymore I’ll be good enough for everyone. He has a look on his face and suddenly he takes off around the room, gathering the needed herbs and spells. He is muttering about all of the possible side effects and giving me a basic rundown of what he is doing. I don’t care; I just want to get this over with. He sets the vial down in front of me while he goes to upstairs to get the last few ingredients from his mother’s garden. I sit and look around the room wondering what kind of mutation I might get.

       “What do you think you are doing?” I turn at the sound of Eliza’s voice and see her, Matt, and Evan trailing behind Daniel. He looks flustered. Eliza probably yelled at him until he led them to me. I feel guilty about telling them his secret and I make a promise to myself to apologize later.

       “I’m helping out a friend. This does not concern you.” I say in a flat tone. I hope she gets the message.

       “By trying to turn yourself into a mutant? Are you nuts?!” Eliza stomps across the room to me and I see her eyes straying towards the vial beside me. She is going to destroy it! “You don’t need to change yourself! You are fine the way you are!”

       I glance at the vial and then to my friends. I am not like them. I am just Annette. I exist in the background. But what if I wasn’t? What if I was something more? In a split second, I grab the vial and drain its contents. I hear them all yell at me to stop and the ensuing panic, but I can say nothing. My body feels weak and I seem to be shrinking. At least I think I am. Eliza is definitely getting bigger. The feeling stops and I look up at Eliza.

       “Oh Annie, what have you done?” She squats down and picks me up. I am small enough to fit in her hands. I try to tell her that I am okay but all that comes out is a croaking noise. I’m scared. Just what did Daniel’s potion do to me? I hear him rushing around the room to find something to change me back while Eliza holds me close to her face. Matt and Evan walk up to her and they all stare at me in my new form.

       “I did not mean to say all of that the other day. There is nothing wrong with being normal, Annie. It’s just is not something I want for myself anymore. I should have realized that saying something like that would hurt you though, and I am sorry.” she says as she looks into my eyes.

       “Yeah, Annie! You are our best friend in the world. We like you just the way you are! You don’t need to change yourself to be our friend. Being normal is boring, yes, but there is nothing normal about you, you idiot!” Matt says this with a smile and I croak at him in confusion. I am normal though. I’m just a regular girl, well was just a regular girl, with a regular life. I don’t have powers or a vampire boyfriend. I’m just me.

       “How many normal people would run out into the middle of a fight with a supervillain just to drag their superhero best friend to safety?” Eliza says with a laugh.

       “What normal girl meets a vampire in an alley and lives to tell the tale?” Evan adds, recalling our first meeting.

       “What normal girl then proceeds to stalk said vampire to make sure he doesn’t eat his date?” Matt adds dryly. All of them laugh at that one. “Let’s not even mention where we are standing right now! There is nothing normal about you. You are amazing and we are all lucky to have you as our friend.” I feel myself wanting to cry. Can frogs even cry? I look up at my friends, my glorious, amazing, awe-inspiring friends and I realize that I love being their background character because it means I get to be a part of the adventures they have and I get to be there for them whenever they need me.

        “I hate to interrupt, but I think I’m ready to change our little friend there back into a princess,” Daniel says while walking over to our group. Eliza hands me over to him. My face would be so red right now if it wasn’t already green!

       “Is this the part where you kiss her?” Matt says jokingly. I swear I am going to hit him when I’m back to normal. I look up at Daniel in apology to see him blushing. Well, maybe I won’t hit Matt after all. Daniel pours the potion over my head and I begin to feel myself grow. I close my eyes as I wait for the feeling to stop. When I open them I see two bright blue ones staring back at me as Daniel cradles me in his arms. It takes me a moment to realize what is happening and I soon flail and jump, landing in a heap on the floor. My friends all laugh at me as I cross my arms in a huff. Daniel stands behind me with a confused look on his face. Everything turned out okay.

         I am Annette Turner and I am just a normal girl with a not so normal life. I live in a small town where crazy things happen every day. I recently discovered that one of my best friends is a superhero and my other best friend is dating a vampire! I also just found out that my crush is secretly a wizard that can cast spells and brew potions. All of the people in my life seem to have this crazy stuff going on around them, but to me, they are my friends. Sometimes it can get overwhelming having so many amazing people in my life when I am just a normal girl. Sometimes I feel like like nothing more than a background character in someone else’s story, but that is okay.

       Everyone has their own story to tell, whether they are larger than life or an ordinary person like me. More importantly, every story has background characters. We are all in the background in someone else’s story. Sometimes being in the background can make you feel small and insignificant, but you have your own story with your own background characters. If you spend all of your time worrying about who you are in someone else’s story then you stop noticing your own. My friends are incredible, but so am I in my own way. I love being their background character, just as much as I love having them as mine. There are billions of stories out there to be told and this is mine. I am a background character and this is my life.

[artsnsociety-blog]

Not your mother’s protest songs...

From Strange Fruit to We Shall Overcome, War, and Mississippi Goddamn, the 20th century was the birthplace of many of our parent’s and grandparent’s picket - sign bearing protest songs. But if you’re looking for something a little more modern while you tweet the president, check out this sweet playlist of 21st century tunes -

1 - Pumped Up Kicks, Foster the People

This is the first song that comes to mind when I think of modern day protest music. The song starts off with a funky bass line, and when the singer jumps in his voice is distorted. The singer jumps in and starts telling the story of a angst-y teenager: 

Yeah, he found a six-shooter gun In his dad's closet, in the box of fun things I don't even know what But he's coming for you, yeah, he's coming for you

Released in 2010, this song addresses the issue of school shootings in a way that teenagers can easily access. At first, this song was fun to listen to. After learning the meaning, it became a song that brought a shadow of fear into my mind whenever I heard it. 

2 - This is America, Kendrick Lamar

To get a full understanding of this 2018 song, it is crucial to watch the video. At first, it seems to be a fun hip-hop video featuring a smiling Kendrick Lamar. But as the music video goes on, strange things start happening in the background. By the end of the video, chaos ensues, as Kendrick sings over and over,”This is America.” 

Almost overnight, this video went viral with people trying to decipher the many hidden messages in the song. From police brutality to gang violence, this song focuses on issues that the government seems to forget. The tagline “This is America” shines light on the fact that people seem to forget the systematic issues that go on in this country, focusing solely on the fact that “This is America, and it’s the best!”

Additionally, it shows that people would rather focus on a black man doing a funny dance than fixing the issues in this country. 

3 - Brackets, J. Cole

This song, released on Cole’s 2018 album K.O.D. discusses a lot about money and race. 

Money-hungry company that make guns that circulate the country And then wind up in my hood, making bloody clothes Stray bullet hit a young boy with a snotty nose From the concrete, he was prolly rose

This song is aimed towards young black men, giving them something to relate to, when they see their tax money being sent to white neighborhoods, have only white teachers, being sold guns by companies that profit millions while they remain broke, and more. The artist speaks about how hard it is to be a young black man in America, having to pay for all the same things as a white man but not seeing the benefits from them. 

4 - Picking Cotton, CupcakKe

Posted to CupcakKe’s YouTube channel in 2016, the artist chose to stray from her sex heavy songs to focus on current issues facing blacks in America such as police violence. This song has strong lyrics discussing that even though slavery does not exist anymore, many blacks still feel that they are at the will of white people. Her lyrics are strong and speak for themselves:

But 164 years back they hung us I'm not a slave to the white man Or white woman standing by me I'm not a slave to the record labels bidding how to sign me I am not a slave I am brave video every cop that make us stop Before our body drop and be sure to press save We need that for proof these cops they goof They pull you over and shoot then play it off like oops Intimidated by our presence so he be drawing the weapon Not screaming justice for nothing we not gone keep on failing

This song is important because it comes from an artist with a large white following. It encourages her listeners to become introspective and think about what they could be doing that is contributing to the inequality. 

5 - Where is the Love, Black Eyed Peas (2003)

This is one of the most far reaching protest songs of the modern time. Touching on subjects from terrorism, racism, politics, religion, and the general lack of empathy that people seem to have these days. This is a very catchy R&B/Hip-Hop song, with a repetitive chorus that people can sing along to. It is hard to sing this song without realizing that it is a protest song, because the lyrics are so blunt. I think it is important to have a few songs that address the problems directly, because many seem to go around the topic without actually addressing it. This song has the capability to reach many generations because the Black Eyed Peas are such a well known group. 

6 - Californication, Red Hot Chili Peppers  (2009)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YlUKcNNmywk

Californication is a diffterent kind of protest than the ones  I choose before, as it targets more of a white audience. The song discusses America’s obsession with California, and specifically with becoming rich and famous in Hollywood. The song’s target audience is young kids who want to be famous. It’s goal is to make people think about whether the fame is really worth it. 

7 - Born This Way, Lady Gaga

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wV1FrqwZyKw

When this song was released, it quickly became an anthem for the LGBT+  community. This song went against the discrimination that was so common for these people. Gaga sang that no matter how people identified, they were born that way, and they should be accepted for what they are. The main audience for this song was the LGBT community but it was aimed towards people who didn’t feel like they belonged. This song is an upbeat pop anthem that is very catchy, which is part of the reason that it became so popular. 

8 - DNA, Kendrick Lamar, 2018

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLZRYQMLDW4

This whole album, released in 2018, attacks the heavily political hip hop culture of the modern day. This specific song is aimed towards imitators of black culture - specifically I think white rappers. It has many strong words against cultural appropriation:

I got loyalty, got royalty inside my DNA (This is why I say that hip hop has done more damage To young African Americans than racism in recent years) I live a better, fuck your life (5, 4, 3, 2, 1) This is my heritage, all I'm inheritin' Money and power, the makin' of marriages

Hip hop used to be a safe space for black teens, but it modern timed everyone has felt a certain attachment and belonging in hip hop. Kendrick does not approve of this, saying that this culture belongs to him, and can not be changed by others.

[nickmakhonuk]

Reasons to Meditate

See, when you meditate, you put your guard down, let energy in, and get yourself out of a stressful self-defense mode, says Sonia Choquette, a meditation teacher with more than 35 years of experience. “It’s pressing a pause button and giving yourself room to breathe,” she says. “And when you have room to breathe, you access your greater potential and your greater state of being.” It can also even out your mood and energy levels, says Gabrielle Bernstein, a certified meditation teacher and New York Times best-selling author. “We experience more even-keeled energy," she says. "And that expands to how we show up in the world.”

With those kinds of benefits, why isn’t everyone (and their mother) meditating? Well, skeptics might be turned off by the negative—and false—stereotype that meditation is hippie-dippy and too good to be true. But there’s plenty of solid evidence to satisfy all the naysayers out there. And even better, science suggests you may experience the brain benefits related to the practice even when you’re not actively meditating . Plus, it may even help you save money on your healthcare .

Need more convincing? Here's 19 awesome, science-backed benefits of meditation!

1. Ditch depression.

Research suggests that 30 minutes of meditation improves depression symptoms (along with anxiety and pain) . In fact, the practice could possibly prevent depression and pain altogether—scientists discovered that people who meditate may have more control over how their brains process and pay attention to negative sensations (like pain) and negative thoughts (like depression triggers).

2. Stress less.

Nix those nail-biting moments already. When you meditate, you’re able to override a part of the brain responsible for the fear mechanism (which releases cortisol, the damaging stress hormone that’s responsible for a whole grab bag of health issues), says Korda. One study suggests that meditation can cut back on anxiety by almost 40 percent . And it doesn’t take a ton of time to reap these keep-calm-and-carry-on benefits. Just 25 minutes of meditation (done three times per week) may make tasks feel less stressful, according to recent research .

3. Relieve headaches.

Meditation may be an excellent line of defense against those horrible head-pounding episodes. Recent research finds that the practice leads to major relief of tension headaches (though it’s worth noting that the treatment program in this study involved both meditation and medication, like muscle relaxants) .

4. Be nicer.

Meditation may help you kill ‘em with kindness. In one study, the practice was linked with more empathy and laughter, being more social, and having a more team-oriented mentality (the meditation practitioners in the study used the word “we” more than “I”).

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5. Boost memory.

If your desktop is wallpapered with sticky note reminders and you often find your mind jumping from thought to thought, you may want to turn to meditation. It’s been shown to not only improve memory but to help cut back on distracting thoughts .

6. Get more out of your workout.

Exercise, especially HIIT workouts in full-blown #beastmode, can do a number on your muscles and your central nervous system But meditation allows you to rest your body and mind very deeply, removing stress from your physiology and priming you for excellent sweat sessions, says Ben Turshen, a former lawyer who’s now a fitness professional and qualified independent teacher of Vedic Meditation in New York City. With meditation's ability to reduce our stress levels, we’re able to perform our workouts that much better and enjoy them that much more, he says. And studies support Turshen's point. Plus, meditation might also help minimize sensitivity to pain (read on for deets on that!), meaning it might be just the boost you need to take on new fitness challenges.

7. Keep colds away.

No need to buy that jumbo 12-pack of tissue boxes. Research links meditation with having fewer respiratory illnesses, quicker recovery times, and needing fewer sick days from work .

8. Build better relationships.

Meditation will absolutely help you maintain healthy relationships, say Bernstein and Korda. Not only does it let you be more present in relationships, but it also helps you approach tricky situations with a calm mind and body. In fact, it may help you avoid big blowouts when dealing with a relationship issue (he/she said what?!). In one study, people who meditated and tried to problem-solve with their partner approached the issue with less hostility and a better mood .

9. Protect your heart.

Here’s a pretty great (and totally unexpected) way to boost your heart health—no burpees involved. Yep, we’re talking about meditation! In one study, patients with coronary heart disease who practiced meditation had a reduced risk of heart attack, stroke, and even death .

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10. Catch more Zs.

In a world where we take our phones and tablets to bed, shuteye has become a pretty precious thing. The problem? Quieting the mind enough to actually be able to fall asleep. That’s where meditation comes in. Not only does science suggest it may help treat insomnia, but experts believe that meditating can help keep your mind in check throughout the day and reduce stress, thus leading to a better, more restful night’s sleep.

11. Amp up creativity.

The possible cure for a creative rut? Meditation. “When you’re in a listening state of mind, you put yourself in a position to receive new ideas and inspiration that you weren’t able to receive before because you were guarded and protected,” Choquette says. So new ideas, solutions, and “aha!” moments will start pouring in. And science agrees: In one study, participants who practiced a particular kind of meditation were better at coming up with many possible solutions for a problem.

12. Improve your 9-to-5.

Here’s an argument for meditating on company time: Your on-the-job performance may benefit from the practice. In one study, multitasking office workers who meditated improved their performance and memory of the tasks they’d worked on as well as their emotional state and awareness.

13. Be more youthful.

The fountain of youth is as real as calorie-free cookies (insert sad-faced emoji here), but meditating may actually help make you younger. Because, science. Middle-aged participants who practiced meditation had younger biological ages than those who didn’t, according to one study . Plus, another study suggests that meditation may diminish age-related brain deterioration.

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14. Cut back on painkillers.

Stop the pill popping! Scientists suggest that meditation may thicken your brain (particularly the portion that regulates pain), slashing your sensitivity to any ouch-inducing actions, and any dependency on meds.

15. Pump up your GPA.

Looking for a totally by-the-book way to earn higher marks the next time a test rolls around? Here’s your answer. According to one study, meditation leads to better focus and higher scores on cognitive tests—all after just 4 days of 20-minute sessions . In another study, students who meditated before a lecture (and subsequent quiz) did better than those who didn’t. Research also suggests that the practice leads to a better attention span—an effect that lasts over time, especially in those who continue to meditate every day.

16. Banish burnout.

When you’re on the grind 40+ hours per week, it’s all too easy to feel overworked. Enter, meditation. Research suggests that taking time to quiet your mind leads to fewer feelings of work-related exhaustion. It’s even been part of medical students’ training at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center with this particular aim in mind.

17. Battle bad eating habits.

Disordered eating is a pretty scary and harmful thing. But there’s hope in the form of meditation. Research suggests that meditating may help you cut back on binge eating and emotional eating . While this is awesome news, it’s still important to consult a doc for an appropriate and effective course of treatment.

18. Add sizzle to your sex life.

Your time between the sheets could benefit from meditation—seriously. In one study, women that added meditation to their lives experienced a boost in arousal and satisfaction in their after-hours action—not to mention fewer difficulties in reaching the finish line. Big O, anyone?

19. Tone down your temper.

Feeling your blood boil on the regular is undoubtedly bad for your health. So don’t get mad, get meditating! Research suggests that the good-for-you-habit cuts back on anger and the tendency to dwell on angry episodes . And Korda agrees. “If you’re aware of your mind, body, and breath, you can calm yourself and step away from the initial reaction and begin to think of different ways to respond to the situation,” he says. “The more inner awareness you have, the less you’re going to be triggered by other people.

Kicking Off Your Practice

Now that you’re armed with knowledge and ready to pick up the practice, don’t get derailed by thinking that meditation will be a burden to your schedule—though you’re definitely not alone if that’s the case.

One of the most common excuses for not meditating is being strapped for time. “We have a culture of being busy, and a work culture of constant communication and accessibility,” Turshen says. “We live in a culture that has a false sense of emergency.” Despite this, the fact of the matter is that you do have time to meditate—just consider all the time you spend tweeting, snapping, stalking on Facebook, and browsing on Instagram.

Still wary? Remember that you definitely don’t have to invest hours upon hours to reap the good-for-you benefits we listed above. “Even one minute a day offers such a great gift,” Bernstein says. One of her quick-and-easy techniques? Follow this pattern: Breathe in for five seconds, hold your breath for five seconds, and then breathe out for five seconds, and continue moving through this practice for a full minute. And voilà: Meditation really can be as easy as that.