#but I like the idea of Henry being youthful but giving off old man energy

[homunculid]

[spartanguard]

babyfaced

Summary: A bet gone awry forces Killian to get rid of his beard for a month. going beardless makes him look significantly younger; but the clock turns back on more than just his face. | rated T; 2.2k words

dedicated to @xpumpkindumplingx​ who told me to “do the thing” and @thesschesthair​ because this is either up her alley or the exact opposite of it.

A/N: just a bit of a crack fic inspired by this post (and the fact that Colin O’Donoghue is a freaking baby face when he shaves), but plus magic—because it’s Storybrooke and we can. header image taken by @lillpon.

Killian sighed heavily and stared at himself in the mirror, committing his face to memory. He ran a hand over his well-maintained scruff, relishing the feel of it against his palm for the last time for the foreseeable future.

“C’mon, Killian—it’s just a shave,” David shouted from outside the restroom at Granny’s.

It was a stupid bet, which of course Killian, in all his cocky arrogance, had taken Dave up on. And it was just his dumb luck that David would have the best darts game of his life and Killian his worst.

So now Killian had to shave off his beard and remain bare-faced for a month. (A month that was typically biting cold and he was always grateful for the bit of a barrier his beard provided.) He hadn’t gone without a beard since...well, not since he was capable of growing one. And there was a reason for that.

But he was nothing if not a man of his word, so with one last caress of his beloved stubble, he picked up the shaving implements he’d been provided with and set to work.

Although he had to send a disparaging glare at the can of shaving foam, labeled as Baby Face Shaving Cream. It was already mocking him. But at least Granny kept straight blades on hand, so he was able to complete the task at hand with some familiarity—even if it meant the result staring back at him was anything but.

Head hung down, he finally emerged from the lavatory to his waiting father-in-law. He could already hear David snickering.

“What, trying to hide? Come on—give me the full view.”

Killian gripped the can of shaving cream so hard he thought it might burst as he huffed and shifted his weight between his feet. “Must I?”

“Unless you plan on looking at the ground for the next month, then yeah.”

Best just get it over with. “Fine.” And he lifted his head to look David straight in the eyes.

It was simultaneously amusing and embarrassing the way Dave’s eyes grew wide at the sight. “Wow, you weren’t kidding—you really do look 10 years younger. Or a hundred and ten, or whatever.”

“No, I wasn’t. So please get all your infant jokes out now.”

David gave all he could in that department on the short walk back to the dining area, and had wrapped them up by the time Killian slumped into the booth next to Emma. He was back to trying to hide his chin and keenly felt the sensation of all eyes being on him, which just made him want to melt into the vinyl cushions even more.

As much as could be said for his leather jackets and kohl, that beard was part of the armor he used against the world, in addition to helping give him a commanding appearance. Without it, he felt much like a lost youth again, and oddly naked.

But then Emma’s hand was on his (very smooth) cheek, turning his face towards her. He heard her hitch her breath and that drew his attention, finally forcing him to look back up. She was studying him intently, and brushing the back of her fingers across his bare skin. Her brow was furrowed and to his surprise, he couldn’t tell why.

“Is it alright, love?” he asked quietly; if she hated it, then the deal with Dave was off.

But then a smirk took over her features. “It’s adorable,” she gushed, much to his consternation; he hung his head yet again. “No, Killian—come on,” she protested, and pulled his chin back up. “It’s different, but a good kind—it’s like seeing you in high school or something.”

“See? I look like a teenager. This is ridiculous.”

“I think you look very sweet, Killian,” Snow said from the other side of the booth, but that didn’t help much.

“Exactly,” Emma agreed. “You are a softie, Killian Jones, and for once, you look like it.”

He did have to admit: the way Emma couldn’t keep her hands off his face did have a perk, and she seemed to enjoy peppering his smooth cheeks with kisses (he also conceded that it felt nice to have her lips right against his skin). But the stares and smirks from everyone else meant it was going to be a long, long month.

------------------------

With the way his facial hair grew, he had to shave at least twice a week to maintain a satisfactory level of clean shaven-ness. Granny had let him keep the shaving cream they’d found at the bed & breakfast, even though she herself wasn’t sure how long it’d been there. At least it had a nice, clean scent, and seemed to take decent care of his skin, if the way Emma continued to caress his face each morning was anything to go by.

Although one day, a week or so later, she did narrow her gaze on him. “Have you been using my eye cream?” she asked.

“No; just the normal facial moisturizer,” he answered.

“Huh; must be something in that shaving cream, then, because your crows’ feet aren’t as deep.”

He shrugged; he knew there were plenty of ways of reducing the appearance of age in this realm with proper skin care, so it was to be assumed that once he started doing the same, it might have some affect. “I’m sure it’s only temporary, then, as you give me abundant reasons to smile every day.”

She just grinned and kissed him.

He did notice, though, that as time went on, his beard didn’t seem to fill in as much as it used to. It was mildly concerning, but he figured it just had to do with the fact that he was starting over from square one every time it began to regrow; once the month was up, it would return to its normal level of thickness.

A couple weeks in, he wondered if he might even be shaving too often, when red bumps began to appear on his chin; it reminded him of the zits he would get in his adolescence. God, he would probably blend in with the high schoolers, between the lack of beard and appearance of acne. At least he had his chest hair to rely on.

But—was it just him, or was that looking a little thin, too?

Perhaps he was just seeing things. Perhaps he was just tired, too—he found himself feeling rather...vigorous lately, which had led to some late nights with Emma. (Several.) Usually, she was the insatiable one, calling him “old man” and other teasing endearments, but for once, he had more stamina than her. 

“You’re not taking Viagra or anything, are you?” she asked, breathless, one night.

“Taking what?”

“Never mind.” (Even if she didn’t have another round in her, she still couldn’t keep her hands from his chin. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.)

With the extra energy in his system, he started to spend more time on his ship, and even took up running. It was giving him a leanness he hadn’t had since he was a lanky lad, and did lead to some oddly timed naps, but mostly just left him hungry.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Emma asked after he polished off far more of a pizza than he normally did.

“Aye, love—perfectly fine,” he assured her, though her worry was causing the same in him. “Why?”

“I don’t know; it’s like...with your face looking so much younger, all of you seems to be a little younger.”

His brow furrowed at that—but at the same time, he knew it was fairly impossible. 

Still, the idea lingered, as well as the sense that he’d somehow disappointed Emma. He found his mood changing on a dime during the last week of the terms of the bet, at times feeling depressed and lonely, and daring and joyous at others. It nearly gave him whiplash.

He sought once to calm his nerves in a glass of rum but, oddly, couldn’t stomach it like he used to.

It was while having a conversation with Emma and David at the station and his voice cracked that he finally realized something was amiss.

“God, you even sound like a pubescent teenager,” Dave teased, but Emma immediately became concerned.

“Okay, something weird is definitely going on,” she said, then came over to assess him. “Do you feel different anywhere? Did someone hit you with a spell or something?”

Suddenly feeling annoyed, he shrugged her off and stepped away. “Bloody hell, no! I don’t know what’s happening. I just know I’m emotional and have too much energy and it feels like everyone hates me and—”

He was cut off when Emma pulled him into a hug—quite possibly one of the best feeling hugs he’d ever had, and he immediately sank into it. “That better?”

“Aye,” he said into her shoulder.

“Sometimes, you just need a hug. It helps Henry.”

He rolled his eyes, but was glad she couldn’t see it. “Yeah, but you’re not my mum.”

“No; it still helps though.” She pulled away. “Can you stay here while I go check something? Make yourself a cocoa, okay?”

“Okay,” he muttered. She placed a peck on his cheek, gave her father an oddly angry look, then headed out.

“What was that about?” Dave wondered aloud.

Killian just shrugged. “I dunno. Want cocoa?”

“Sure.”

They shared a mug (Killian may have doubled up on cocoa packets in his) and were chilling on the couch when Emma returned, holding a vial. “What’s that?” he asked, standing, as she came in.

“Stand right there and don’t move,” she commanded. “Dad, come over by me.”

Both guys did as asked, and Emma popped the cork on the vial. Carefully, she put a tiny amount of the powder inside in her palm.

“Okay, brace yourself, Killian.”

“For what?” he complained, but it was too late: she’d blown the powder his way.

He winced when it hit him, then a tingling sensation took over his body, leaving him a bit sore—but somehow also feeling more normal than he had in weeks.

He blinked when the prickling feeling dissipated and looked back at his companions; Emma was smiling and David, for some reason, looked upset. 

“Hey, it hasn’t been a full month yet!” he protested. Killian reached up to brush his hand along his jaw; his beard was back.

“What did you do, love?” he had to ask; he thought she liked him cleanshaven?

“I was right; you were literally aging backwards,” she said. “That shaving cream? Turns out it had some magic in it that turned back the clock. If you’d used it any more, you probably would have started to get shorter.” 

“Bloody hell,” he cursed. “So I really was a teenager?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn.”

David was looking very sheepish off to the side, especially when Emma leveled her gaze at him. “So thanks for putting my husband in high school, Dad.”

“Sorry!” he said quickly. “I had no idea; I just wanted to see what he’d look like.”

“Well, maybe next time, don’t put such a ridiculous time limit on your bets, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed, though the way he was curling in on himself let them know he was genuinely sorry.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go have my way with the MAN I married—not the BOY,” she said pointedly, grabbing Killian’s hand and leading him from the station. They didn’t pause to see David’s reaction, but it was easy to imagine.

“I’d say that was fair punishment, Swan,” Killian quipped as Emma led them down the street toward their house. 

“Oh, definitely,” she giggled. “But I wasn’t kidding. I need to have you when we’re both on the same level.”

“I think I can handle that.”

(He couldn’t. Apparently, aging nearly 20 years in one day was draining.)

The next morning, he shuffled down to the kitchen to the smell of pancakes and bacon, and the sight of Emma cooking. He sidled up behind her, like he usually did, and buried his scruffy chin in the crook of her shoulder, tickling her and making her laugh.

“Still feeling okay?” she asked as she flipped the pancakes on the griddle.

“Aye; back to my old self. A fact that I don’t think I’ll ever take for granted.”

“Good.” She moved the pancakes off the pan and onto the plate, then turned off the stove. She turned in his embrace and quickly placed her hands on his cheeks, scratching through his scruff. “Mm, I missed that,” she hummed.

“Yeah? You seemed to have a thing for a clean face, too,” he replied.

She shrugged. “It had its novelty, definitely, and it was kind of nice to see what you looked like before life happened.” He swallowed; he hadn’t thought of that. He’d definitely seen pictures of Emma as a youth, but obviously, there weren’t any of him. “But now you look like the man I fell in love with again, so please don’t let any stupid bet or spell change that, okay?”

“I’ll do my best, love, as long as you do the same.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Actually, might I propose something else?” he added.

“What’s that?”

“I’d quite like to see what it’s like to grow old with you.”

Emma grinned, crinkling the skin by her eyes and around her mouth. “I would love that.” 

------------------------------------

thanks for reading! tagging some friends: @kat2609​ @optomisticgirl​ @shipsxahoy​ @amortentia-on-the-rocks​ @mryddinwilt​ @cocohook38​ @annytecture​ @wingedlioness​ @word-bug​ @distant-rose​ @wellhellotragic​ @welllpthisishappening​ @let-it-raines​ @pirateherokillian​ @its-imperator-furiosa​ @fergus80​ @killianmesmalls​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @effulgentcolors​ @laschatzi​ @ive-always-been-a-pirate​ @nfbagelperson​ @stubble-sandwich​​ @killian-whump​​ @lenfaz​ @phiralovesloki​ @athenascarlet​ @kmomof4​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @snowbellewells​ @idristardis​ @scientificapricot​

[insane-control-room]

Tall, Dark, Handsome and Mysterious

Ao3 Link Here

warning: period typical racism mentioned

Dot loves a good mystery, and Mr. Drew is as good as any, if not better. 

It was to be expected that someone or another would fall for the lanky chicano.

After all, he was mysterious and kindly, with a heart of gold and rainbows. The age old adage, tall, dark, and handsome all applied to him. Men and women and all those in between would turn their heads to get an extra glimpse at him whenever possible, a rarity disguised by a magical mask.

And it is to be expected that with having teenagers under his employ that they too may fall victim to his charms.

Now, though it was apparent that the expected person that would become infatuated with the good Mr. Drew would be closer to him, more able to witness and take in his virtues. Truthfully the one who held his heart was the upcoming Doctor Stein, yet it was clear that Johan had much love to share with the world. And of course, not everyone was aware of Joey’s relationship with Henry. Not that they were secretive of it, but rather because they were not going to rub it into others faces.

Of course, not always the expectation comes into being. Especially with the heady youth, of which Johan knew very clearly. After all he fell for Henry when he was quite young, but they spent over thirty years to properly get together. He was not about to date a child, no matter if they were willing, due to being a sensible and proper being. Additionally, Joey absolutely was one of the most oblivious men to walk on God’s good earth, loving others without expecting to be loved back.

So when one worker tore her shirt, and Joey being his chivalrous self covered her with his cloak, then ran to fetch from Susie a proper fitting shirt. I am condensing the situation.

Unfortunately, she did not simply tear her shirt. She tore it as she fell down the stairs, and completely, so that when she fell into Joey’s arms it had been rather, er, too close for comfort. But Joey acted quick and without embarrassing the girl, though her secret slipped from her grasp the same way she fell into Joey’s.

It is a bit of a tale.

Johan sighed as he flicked through papers. Papers, papers, and more papers. Documents for the various segments of the studio; bills for Grant, sheet music for Sammy and Jack, storyboards for Henry, blueprints for Bertrum, and concepts for the writers. His eyes felt heavy as he finished skimming all the pages, and set himself to dropping them off. Most workers protested Johan doing the job, saying that they could do it themselves, that he should not trouble himself, that he had enough medical problems to deal with as is, but he did it anyway. It was good to meet up with the team, anyways.

Though, if he was being honest, he would have rather done all the work himself, like in the not so good old days. Sure, it was rough, but it kept him busy and distracted. Henry always said he worked himself too hard, but he found working thrilling, almost relaxing. He was one of the only people who could “work hard, work happy” with total and complete honesty. The others tried their best to, but constant frustration held that back. Johan dove deep into his work to distract himself and release the tension in his body and mind.

Breathing in, breathing out, pen on paper, swapping through colors to define what he meant on each paper. He nearly dozed off on the elevator because he had stayed up all night working on the documents.

He managed to drop everything off to their designated areas, and then found he still had the story ideas to give to the lovely darlings that worked in writing. He yawned, and pushed the button on the elevator, and within a few minutes, he was already with and talking to said workers. They followed his only slightly stuttered words with fascination, clinging to each syllable like it was a dew drop of pure gold. He nearly blushed with each sound of approval, but only smiled and thanked them, informing them that without their work, the ideas would never find a way onto paper.

One of the writers sat, mesmerized. There was something so mysterious about Mr. Drew, she thought to herself. And goodness, she loved a good mystery, it was what got her into writing in the first place. She watched the way he spoke and acted with the sharp eyes of a hawk, and then when he got up to leave, she got up as well, determined to follow him and be the one to shatter the delightful aura of riddles and strangeness surrounding him, certain that if he would fall in love with anyone particularly, it would be her.

“Mr. Drew!” Dot called after him, her short plump legs struggling to keep up with his long slim ones. Still, he stopped, and turned to allow her to catch up to him. Such a gentleman, she smiled inwardly. When she caught up, she breathlessly told him; “I had a few questions to ask you.”

“Yes, ma’am?” Joey always spoke with a sonorous, soft tone - that is, when he was not recording or filling the people who worked for him with robust energy and visions of grandeur and majesty. Dot held back a sigh. “Is it possible to w-walk and talk? I’m very busy, as you know.”

“Yes, yes sir,” she smiled, and walked as fast as her legs would allow. “Well, you see, I’ve had an idea for an episode….”

So immersed was she in her talking and watching for any hint of a response to come across Johan’s handsome yet masked face, she hardly noticed when they had reached the stairs, and her foot came to rest on empty air, she pitching forward.

She nearly shrieked, but she felt herself caught with a strange tearing sound.

“Miss Dot! Oh, I’m d-dreadfully sorry, are you alright?” Joey pulled her away from the stairs, going down onto his knees to examine her. “Good, good, you look fine, but I, uh, seem to have torn your shirt when I grabbed you.”

He quickly took off his custom made jacket and handed it to her. She stared at it for a moment, then slipped it on with a sense of satisfaction, trying to smell it without Joey noticing. Then worry filled her.

“You didn’t see anything, did you?” she questioned with suspicion. Joey only smiled, and shook his head. “Good.”

“Anyways, I have one of Susie’s shirts that I had mended that should fit you upstairs, if y-you’ll oblige me by following,” Joey told her, leading the way. Dot’s heart began to flutter. Johan was so courteous, and kind! Her stomach twisted in lovesick knots. And then they were in his apartment! It was not exactly what she imagined it to be, far less lavish, but still, it was nonetheless very romantic and delightfully homely. Johan slipped into his room, and Dot resisted the urge to take a peek within. Then the man himself reappeared, and she held the edge of a chair to keep herself from swooning. Oh, but then Johan would catch her… Dot allowed herself to fall, and Johan leapt for her with a shout. “Are you ok?” His hand came to her forehead. “You’re warm, and your heart is going a mile a minute! Are you feeling sick at all?”

“No, I’m fine, Mr. Drew,” she replied, and goodness, his arms were so much more firm and strong than she had believed. It sent her stomach into triple summersaults. She wanted to dance with him, to watch him dance with her. Or for her. “Just a little tripped up is all.”

“You sure?” he seemed so lovingly concerned, his brows arched ever so slightly, his ruby eyes examining her carefully behind a mask. She smiled and nodded. “Ok… are you sure that you’re able to return to work?”

“Oh, oh, I’m fine,” she replied, blushing under his scrutinizing gaze. Even though he wore a mask, the pie cut eyes upon it seemed far too deep for black on white. “Thank you, Mr. Drew.”

“It is no problem at all,” Joey nodded. “Just make sure to return the shirt to Susie tomorrow. You know how she is with fashion.”

“Yes sir,” Dot replied breathlessly, watching the end of Mr. Drew’s cloak swish away through a hall, vanishing around the bend like a phantom, his footfall imperceptible. Dot felt her blush grow all the more, and a realization struck her. “I have to tell Buddy.”

*** “You’re crazy,” Buddy instantly rebuffed when she told him. He nearly dropped his inker. “You’re not going to marry Mr. Drew just because he’s a nice guy.”

“You don’t get it, he knows my secret and didn’t say anything about it,” she gushed, grinning so that her dimples showed. “Only true husband material would do so.”

“So am I husband material?” Buddy wondered aloud. Dot swatted at him, and he dodged her hand, holding onto his kippah. “Shomer negiah!”

“Right, sorry,” she apologized, air patting him. “I forgot. I’ll try not to again.”

“Seriously though,” Buddy chewed the end of his pen, then swapped it for a piece of mint gum. Johan had noticed his habit and bought him a few packets. “Mr. Drew’s just a really nice guy. You shouldn’t fall so hard for him, he’s not going to date you. Get that idea out of your head before it turns into something it shouldn’t.”

“Oh, shush, Daniel. It won’t.”

*** It did.

She managed to corner Joey in his office while he was not paying too much attention to the door. She locked it after he said his oh so sweet “do come in”. He smiled at her, and she wished she could see it without the mask. Then she decided she would.

“M-mademoiselle?” he stuttered as she marched up to him, steely resolve blazing in her eyes. “Is something the m-matter?”

“You’re a very handsome man,” Dot smirked. The enchanted mask’s expression vanished, becoming one of shock. She put a hand on it, and started to tug it off. A gloved hand pressed to hers to stop her action. She looked at Joey with surprise, all the more startled by his firm features. “Come on, Mr. Drew, don’t you like to live dangerously?”

“Er, uh, no, not really,” he was panicking, but refused to show her. He forced a scowl from his face, and took on a more authoritative role. “Dot. This behavior is unacceptable. I need you to leave this office and calm down.”

“Why so cold, Mr. Drew?” she pouted, resolutely tugging on his mask once more. A coldness burned into the room, torching the whole. Dot stepped back. “Mr. Drew…?”

“Please leave now.”

“I-I,” she flushed. Anger surged. “I’m going to sue!”

He blinked.

“I’ll say you harassed me!” she spat, and ran out in tears. “And I’ve got my shirt to prove it!”

Joey plopped into his chair, head in his hands, stressed.

“Damn teenagers.”

“You were one, too, for quite a while,” Henry chuckled, getting up from where he had hidden under the desk, for he and Joey were, ah, taking a break that involved each other’s mouths before Dot came in. He turned Joey’s mask to kiss his cheek. “An extra thirty to one hundred twenty years or so, wasn’t it?”

“I wasn’t aware of the time passing, no one was!” Joey defended himself. “Still, what am I going to do? If she really goes through with that threat… they’d, y’know….”

He drew a line across his dark throat.

“It’ll be fine,” Henry assured him. “I think that Susie and the others would catch her.”

“Why S-Susie?” Joey rose an eyebrow. Henry smiled, and replied, “Well, she has to return her shirt somehow, doesn’t she?”

*** Dot was still crying when she was returning the shirt to Susie. The singer exchanged glances with Allison.

“What happened, darling?” Susie probed gently, taking the shirt and setting it aside. Dot shook her head, not planning on fessing up. “Come on now. You can tell us.”

“Tell us what?” Lacie asked, swinging hir coat over hir shoulder. “Is it that lil’ crush of yours?”

“You know?” Dot squeaked, turning pink. Lacie grinned. “Nah, it was a lucky guess. So, Mr. Drew shut you down, didn’t he?”

“Why, yes, he did,” she sniffed. “So I’m going to sue him.”

Susie held in a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m serious.”

“You might be serious but you’re not thinking about it,” Allison calmly iterated. “Now, think about something. Crow Laws. Even though they’re not here properly, there’s still a little something called ‘lynching’, and that would certainly happen if word gets out that a black man possibly did something to a white girl.”

“Oh,” Dot’s mouth opened. She blushed, looking at her hands. “Oh, oh no, you’re right. But I feel miserable.”

“You’re rushing, dear,” Susie sweetly patted her hand. “There’s no need for running about like a headless chicken. Take your time. Also, I can assure you, Mr. Drew is in a relationship.”

“He is?” her eyes widened, swept away by the mystery. “With whom?”

The three women glanced at each other with knowing grins.

“Tell me!”

***

Johan tried to avoid her, but she managed to catch him as he was leaving the art department.

“Mr. Drew,” Dot stood in front of him with her hands folded in front of herself. “I wanted to say I was sorry for my behavior yesterday.”

Joey relaxed, lowering his cocked brow.

“What I said was improper and my actions were hasty and rude,” she added. “And I’m very sorry for that. I’m also sorry for putting you on the spot like that. You’re a very good man.”

“Ah,” Joey smiled awkwardly. “I’m glad you’ve, er, thought about it. I am proud that you understand what kind of situation you were putting me in.”

“Yes, I do,” she nodded. “It won’t happen again. It should not have happened in the first place.”

“That’s agreed on,” Mr. Drew sighed. Dot shifted, and he could tell she wanted something else. “Anything e-else?”

“Just a small thing,” she smiled sheepishly. “Who’re you dating?”

Joey blushed behind his mask.

“That’s one mystery you’ll have to solve on your own.”

[relatablemormonmoments]

October 2019 Saturday Session Notes

Morning

Jeffrey R. Holland

Anonymous women and men identify Christ as reason for clamor

Find Jesus at center of it all

Our faith can be overwhelming

Love of heavenly PARENTS

Recieve your sight, your faith has healed you

Skeptics and faithful still contend

Faith and service

Terrence M. Vinsen

Build the lord's temple instead of staying in our safe houses

Earneth wages to put in a bag with holes (oooo graphics)

Less wifi and more Nephi

We shouldn't let the gospel be an added extra or just go to church 2 hours on Sundays. Church is extended 6 more days a week

Fair Dinkum->being commited

If we think things will be easy we will lose

Parable of the Fat Lip and Broken Jaw -> resulted in giving our all

Giving our all =/= blessings and success, Giving our all=Happiness

When he falls he shall rise again

Never waivered in faith and goodness, but deeply hirt for a long time

Wound expanding over our hearts

Pain in heart = Pain in soul, If we go to God it can be taken away

What should I do ghat I may have eternal life, that I shall return to God?

Prepare to give up all we have

Consider your ways

I hope this guy becomes an apostle 😍😍😍

Stephen W. Owen

Cellphone intentions quickly become distractions

Missed scripture study and subsequently the blessing and spiritual healing that comes with it

24 gour news cycle = bad

We must learn to recieve revelation

Herd of deer trapped outside of habitat-could starve. Deer can't eat well meaning hay -> starve to death with stomachs full

Spiritual nourishment is not trending on social media

Pride of world causes us to abandon church

Motions of spirituality do not mean true conversion

We need to be faithful, not faithless

Home centered church helps us thrive in days of spiritual malnutrition

Master of distraction, author of procrastination = Satan

Children need more of your time, not less

Curriculum for meetings is being adjusted

Moved to new neighborhood at age 14-> feels like tragedy

Parents, let youth know they are not alone as they walk

Your influence might be the church support that that young person needs.

D. Todd Christoffersen

We can feel joy regardless of what is happening or what's not happening in our lives

Those who serve God and are chaste are more joyful than those who are only obedient

Recieving the gospel makes us feel like a free bird

Be of good cheer

Joy of returning to geaven

Bring light, relief, and happiness ro our brothers and sisters

Michelle Craig

How can I tell when God is trying to tell me something?

Be intentional about creating time and space to hear God's voice

Imagine what would happen if we were as intent in staying connected to heaven as we were to staying connected to wifi

Lord can use your ordinary skills to accomplish his extraordinary work

Dale G. Renlund

New but unwavering commitment to Jesus Christ

Unchanging fidelity to God

MY ARCHAEOLOGIST BRAIN ISNT HAPPY WITH THE IDEA OF THROWING THE ITEMS RELATED TO OUR OLD IDENTITIES AWAY AND COMPLETELY DESTROYING IT

Begin new life in Christ

Spiritual sneeze, faithful flu- doesnt work

Recieve Christ's image more fully.

Constant flow of Faith

"Isn't this the truth that we have heard"

Anchor yourself to the Savior

Oaks

No.

Afternoon

David A. Bednar

Yesss its my boy

Camoflauged cro odiles -> Satan vs. Youth (Packer)

Cheetahs, fastest accelerating mammals on earth

Cheetahs stalk Topies while working in tandem to hunt them.

Alternating pattern to dostract and decieve the Topies and keep them from knowing there was any danger

Older Topies watching give warning and Topies escape.

Cheetahs still pursue, restless.

Beware of evil's beguiling disguises

Restored Gospel light in our lives

Stay awake and be alert

Don't be complacent or careless

A cheetah is a predator, Satan is the enemy of Righteousness

PLAN OF HAPPINESS Provides direction and enduring joy to God's Children

Lucifer seeks to frustrate our progression via misusing our bodies

Powerful parables are obtained from our daily lives

Ruben V. Alliad

Jesus is the Lord of Lost Things, he loves Lost Things

200 copies of the book of mormon in one room

"And when ye shall recieve these things..."

Pray about book of mormon and you WILL know that its true

Found directly through power of BOM

Think hard and answer honestly, follow up on baptism promises

Diligently seek the BOM

Holy Ghost confirms our knowlege

Russell M. Nelson

Youth Battalion

(If any of you saw my previous post this talk is what tipped my Grandmother off about Hitler's Youth)

Quentin L. Cook

Smartphones = bad

Youth must be the focus of Bishops and other leaders

Youth have more personal responsibility at you bf er and younger ages now

Announcements do not limit bishoos responsibility over Young Women

Young Women leader is besf for meeting the needs of Young Women

YOUNG MEN PRESIDENCIES NO MORE

Ward youth council, mutual is retired

Mark L. Pace

God loves us

70 steel piles provide firm foundation

Increase faith in Jesus Christ and his Atonement

Adversaries increasing attacks on our faith

Come follow me a chance to bear testimony and learn differently

Consistent Effort throughout the week

Remodel home into center of Gospel Learning

Come follow me helpsnus establish foundation

L. Todd Budge

Peace and Joy when we surrender ourselves to God

Afflictions and Sorrow prepare us for joy -13th century poet

Afflictions are small

Life full of purpose and meaning

The lord will not allow us to suffer in darkness

How can we make it through the day without the Lord?

Questions and concerns -> Faith and Love

"I don't feel safe, but I am"

Wind never ceases to blow us towards the promised land

Didn't cease to praise the Lord

I really like this guy. He gives me peace and brings me joy

Jorge M. Aluardo

Some blessings come soon, late, or not until heaven, but they will come

Temple

Works at temple bless you with increased revelation and peace

Example of righteous parents

Strong familial chain link

Follow your own council (kid eating too much candy)

This man brings me joy

"Amazing Papa!"

Ronald A. Rasband

Grateful for the Lord's eternal companionship

Promises to improve

Promises to eachother increase promise to the Lord

Partnership with the Lord

The lord will be with you

Women's Session

Reyna J. Alberto

Black clouds which blind us and cause us to question God

When our minds are suffering, it is appropriate to seek help

Together we realize there is hope, and we do not have to suffer alone. Find resources about emotional illnesses!

Isolation thrives in secrecy and shrinks in empathy

When it comes to healing, we all need Him desperately

Nothing you have experienced will change the fact that you are God's child

Lisa L. Harkness

Living under Christ's name

Jesus is here for us

Do we honor the name of Christ

Bonnie H. Cordon

Sure knowlege of divine purpose and identity

NEW YW THEME ( I DIDNT CATCH THE WHOLE THING BUT): I am a beloved daughter of HEAVENLY PARENTS

Shift from we to I

Peace and Guidance will be yours

We need to have shelters and sanctuaries from life's storms

Be a light to those around you.

All classes are now unified under one name: Young Women

Every class should have a class presidency

Make the calling of leading class presidencies a priority

Revelation is real

We need the Wisdom, Council, and Energy in youth council

Henry B Eyring

Divine mission is to help lift the souls of others

We do not know the time or duration of our assignments

Preparation of a powerful loving heart

Minister to every stranger as a neighbor and a friend

We must be a mother in some way

Mold living clay to your hopes in tandem with God

God loves you

Oaks

NO!!! (Homophobic version)

Russell M. Nelson

He is now the church grandpa

Access to all spiritual treasures for Lord's children

How do we draw the savior's power in our life? Holy Ghost will prompt you

Bad men are not allowed- men must drink respect women juice

RESPECT WOMEN JUICE!!

Misogyny bad

Women are society's guardians, wonderful, magnificent

Covenants = Priesthood power for women

I LOVE MY NEW GRANDPA

Encouraged to participate in ward councils

166 temples and more to come (TEMPLES ANNOUNCED IN WOMEN'S SESS? THIS IS A FIRST)

8 new temples -> sierra leone, utah x2 , arkansas, philippines, texas, guatemala, utah

Strengthen your faith in the Lord.

[avenger09]

Ideas for a new Bravestarr Series

Deep in Space, on a new frontier lies a planet beset by outlaws on all sides. Folks just trying to forge a new life for themselves live in fear and hope is a luxury. The desperate people of this planet call for help thinking they'll need a hundred lawman to restore peace. They got one... he was enough. His name: BraveStarr. Blessed with incredible Galactic powers and strength of character, BraveStarr alongside his posse of fellow Champions of Justice, fight off not just the corruption of Tex Hex, but the worst quality's the frontier can bring out in the ordinary people of New Texas.

Note: (This is just a few concepts I as a fan have come with with. Ironing out is for professionals.)

Marshal Bravestarr

-Noah Watts- 

One of the best Marshals to come out of the Academy, he was sent to the desperate planet of New Texas whose people where terrorized by undead outlaw, Tex Hex and his gang and return justice to this frontier planet.

Gifted incredible powers as a boy by a burst of energy, when the tainted spirit Stampede attacked his home. He spent his youth learning to be worthy of the abilities given to him: Strength of the Bear. Speed of the Puma. Eyes of the Hawk.

A charismatic and unflinchingly virtuous man, Bravestarr first made a name for himself by bringing in his own instructor, Jermaine "Jingles" Morgan, for a murder Jingles committed after loosing to the victim in a competition. In-spite of seeing his Hero fail to uphold the values he taught, Bravestarr promised himself to be a true servant of the law regardless.

When New Texas was told they would be getting him as a Marshal, the people doubted anything but a hundred law men would do any good. Soon they learned, he was enough.

Thirty/Thirty

-Gregg Burger-

Tough loyal and ready to have your back.

Thirty is a member of the endangered cyborg Equestroids who met his soon to be best friend, when he was framed by criminal kingpin who did not like the young Bravstarr's sense of justice. Thirty helped clear his name an act he got deputies for. If only to "keep his new buddy out of trouble".

Unlike his partner in law, Thirty/Thirty is far more quick-tempered, pugnacious, tough, hot-headed, independent, reckless, negative, defiant, rebellious. But also thoughtful, tenacious, heroic, insightful, truthful and sensitive. Occasionally the two have vocal disagreements between them about the use of force in the line of duty. Still they both have nothing but respect for the other. He has only one love in his life, his custom laser blunderbuss Sara Jane.

Judge J.B. McBride

-Kari Wahlgren-

Before the new Marshals arrival McBride was the last official representatives of justice on New Texas. Originally a simple town lawyer she was Inspired to become a Judge after her reporter father was beaten to near death by one of Hex's thugs for a story he'd written about their crimes. She's acted as the voice of reason among a decent but increasingly desperate people, calming tensions between the off-world settlers and the local Prairie-People, with both her words or her power-hammer. Which comes mighty handy during Hex's raid's. 

While skeptical of BraveStarr's chances at first she's come around to see him as a valued partner in justice and only her sense of professionalism and BraveStarr's own, has kept the two from expanded their relationship further, but everyone in the Fort can see the spark between them.

Deputy Fuzz

-Antony Del Rio-

The only deputized member of the indigenous New Texas folk, called the Prairie People. Young (for his race) and a savant with technology, he assists with the problems of the town In hopes of learning to combine the best of his People with the best of the Galactic's, which he sees in the Marshall and the Judge.

Since the rush began the Prarie's have mostly tried to keep to themselves in their underground kingdom, but greedy prospectors and other less scrupulous settlers have unjustly made them feel unwelcome on their own planet, forcing them from the tunnels closest to the surface to get at the rich resources that may lay under their feet. While others view them as vermin for their small size and seemingly simple nature.  

Fuzz is the only one of his tribe trying to understand the tech brought to their planet and improve on it, not just gather for scrap to trade like many other tribes choose to do. Because of that, Fuzz can't help but feel like a self made outcast as he seems to be the only one who understands the changing situation there in, even if he isn't treated like one like his cousin Scuzz is. Who shared his innovative spirit, unfortunately, he preferred the worst traits of the Galactic's when he fell in with Tex-Hex.

Handlebar 

-Jon St John-

The humble barkeep with a name no one can pronounce, so he lets everybody call him Handlebar, for the impressive Human style facial hair he has proudly cultivated. 

The Shaman

-Fred Tatasciore-

Descended from tribes uplifted from Earth by a dying Alien race who saw their spiritualism mirrored their own, and thus could be trusted with same magics as them. When their cousins eventually joined their thriving counterparts in space centuries Bravestarr’s family where among them. 

Soon becoming a mentor to the boy, the Shaman saw the same pure heart their precursors saw in them, he taught Bravestarr many things about the wonders of the universe as well as the many dangers that inhabit it. The worse among them Stampede. His lessons where fortuitous as the evil soon rampaged across their land scattering those may one day pose a threat to him. Many died including Bravestarr’s parents and the Shamans own family. 

To ensure their survival he sent Bravestarr away in an escape pod, confident they would meet again, which they would. Years later on New Texas.

Reunited Shaman helped the noble marshal unlock the full potential of the powers within him. The Strength of the Bear. Eyes of the Hawk. Speed of the Puma, and been a trusted confidant to his young friend. 

Wherever he goes expect the unexpected and learn to heed his wisdom.

Tex-Hex

-Charlie Adler- 

The undead, undisputed, unforgivable reigning outlaw on New Texas.

Years ago he and his business partner Angus first discovered the planets rare new resource. Despite promising to share the rights for it, a strange, intense greed took a hold of Tex, leading him to double cross his partner and fill his ships hold with more then it could bare, causing crash that killed most of the crew and Tex himself.

Angus survived and left to tell the Galaxy triggering a rush for this new mineral, but Tex his story wasn't over. The greed had twisted him down to the soul, and he rose again in service to the one who had infected him with it. A being in the form of a skeletal metal bull who revealed himself to Tex as the embodiment of malevolence Stampede.

In this revanant state came a sort of immortality, that Tex has used to torment the good, bad and ugly of New Texas ever since. Collecting the worst of the worst to fight in his posse. For these 20 years, no lawman or bounty hunter has managed to bring him in for very long, which is the only option they have to stop him. As hanging, shooting, drowning, burning and once even defenestration has failed to put him down.  

Stampede

-David Kaye-

"He is the manifestation of a aspect of Nature. Survival of the Fittest. As the beings of the Galaxy evolved so did it and by extension, Stampede, and not for the better. If he is cruel, it is because we are cruel, if he is ruthless, it is because we are ruthless, and if he is Evil it is because  we are. That is why he despises goodness valor and courage. They are the only things that can guide us from these selfish acts that empower him. Justice diminishes him, so he has made it his enemy."  

Original Characters 

Henry Walsh

-Kelsey Grammer- "Your a good man Marshall, this planet needs that. So please, don't get in my way." "If I don't, who will?" A wealthy man who arrives on New Texas with seemingly benevolent intentions. With his support the town receives new technology and better defenses to keep out the rotten influence of degenerates like Tex Hex. He even greatly admires Bravestarr for his dutifulness. And especially Fuzz, who he admits to that he sees some of himself in him. An entrepreneur who works to benefit others doesn't let others tell him what to do. Soon he starts to bring in his own men and making the odd "suggestion" or too to the Judge on how things should be done on New Texas. Bravestarr notes this and becomes conflicted over the benefits Walsh gives to the citizens and the risk of him eventually turning it into his own personal Kingdom. Though Walsh wants to work with the Marshal, when push comes to shove, Bravestarr can't condone Walsh’s threats and underhanded deals. What makes it more complicated is Fuzz siding with him over Bravestarr at a crucial moment essentially forcing him out of Fort Callahan. Fuzz is convinced of the good they'll do until Walsh makes he plans on forcing the Prairie people off their land so he can build another town. When he protests Walsh tries to convince him it's for the best as it'll finally force them to adapt like him. Not wanting things done this way, he ally's with Bravestarr again (who never lost faith he would) and they with the townsfolk and even Tex's help, bring him in. While being shipped off to Prison, Walsh condemns them for being so foolish. How he would have made New Texas a paradise and that it was a wasted effort arresting as he will be free anyway with the friends he has. Only for Bravestarr to say because this is on the edge of space he falls under frontier law and that means he's getting a swifter sentencing, and those "friends of his”, said they are more then happy to allow it. Seems they've been waiting for a chance to be rid of him for awhile with what he has on them. The victorious mood is soon brought down as now they have no benefactor anymore so the fort's back where it's started. Plus Bravestarr shares this observation with Fuzz. "Luck helped Justice today. But I can't help but think of all the folks out among the stars, who are just like him. People seen as too connected and too rich to get there dues no matter what they've done." (Much of his character is based on the Land Baron types who considered themselves above the law in the Old West. I added a bit more to the guy by including his genuine admiration for Fuzz. There's good in him but progress needs to be made his way and he won't have anyone tell him otherwise and he's willing to use seedy means to get it done, which brings him into conflict with our heroes.)

Note

(In case it wasn’t clear I tried keeping the optimistic adventure tone, but adding in a few heavy subjects here and there. Unlike other shows. -Animated or otherwise- I don’t think you need to by gritty to be poignant, or that you should ignore your own mythology, or talk down to your audience. Stargate SG1, The DCAU, Avatar TLAB, and Beast Wars all proved that.)  

[melodiouswhite]

Forbidden Fruit

A/N: Writing shameless Jekyde smut. This is an Seperated AU, written from Dr. Jekyll's POV. I've never written smut before in my life, please be nice to my comment section. Yes, I know that this smut fic is amateurish, but I've never written stuff like that before, so please forgive me, if this isn't as good as my other writing. There is no plot to this. I'm not sorry.

At first I thought, that something had gone wrong. I wanted to get rid of my evil to be a good man, or at least that's what I tell myself, that's what I want to believe. So I brewed a potion to separate my evil. It didn't quite go as planned. It was separated, but not completely, it's still a part of me, still within me. The potion tore my soul apart, yet it only manifested in changing my shape and character. My evil became a sentient entity with a mind and emotions of its own, taking a shape every time I took the potion. I had a completely dark being within me, while at the same time I was still the same Henry Jekyll, with all my desires, negative character traits and wishes. It was a change for the worse, yet I did gain something. No. I gained someone . 'It' became a 'he'. I couldn't tear my eyes off him, the first time I saw him. I still can't. Whether you like Edward Hyde's appearance or not, it's impossible to look away. People find him ugly for reasons I know, but can't comprehend. Not when I am so attracted to him. No. Attracted is the wrong word. I love him. Need him. Want him. Desire him. I can't say how it happened, but it did and I don't regret it. God, there is no word to describe how much I love and desire him. Now I have finally found a way to separate us completely, but I don't want him to leave. Luckily, neither does he. We can finally be together in the way we wanted and I'm so happy. Oh Lord, if you wanted to punish me for my sins, I couldn't have asked for a sweeter punishment. I love his youth, his thirst for life and its pleasures, his energy, his fire, the way the light of his flames illuminates my soul and makes me feel alive. Nothing seems to be impossible for him and it's invigorating, euphoric. It still boggles my mind, the things he can do to me, when he touches me, kisses me, lies with me, makes me feel these overwhelming sensations. I love his café noir brown hair and the noises he makes, when I run my fingers through it. It's long, wavy and silky. I can't get enough of entangling my fingers into it, when we lie together. I love his ghost white skin, that seems to glow in the moonlight, and how it is hot and cold at the same time, when it's on mine. I love his acid green eyes that actually do glow in the dark and have a wicked gleam to them. I love how tiny he is, it's honestly adorable. His head doesn't even reach up to my shoulder. I love his pale, beautifully swung lips. They can kiss like no other and god, I can never resist the temptation. Sometimes he paints them red and looks more seductive than the most experienced common girl* ever could. He tastes like cherries and pomegranates. It's the sweet taste of sin and I'm addicted. I love his voice. To others it sounds unlikeable, but to me he is a siren. Hyde has an almost feminine, guttural rasp, yet there is something melodic and sensual about it. When he wants something from me, he adopts a sultry purr, that he knows makes my knees go weak and awakens the passion, that I thought I'd lost. I love the small similarities and differences between my alter ego and myself. He is a part of me, yet I always discover something new about him. Those are only a few of Hyde's charms. I could rant about him for days and it wouldn't be enough.

Right now, he is standing behind my chair, his hands wrapped around my shoulders. He snickers into my ear and I know what he wants. I feel my face flush. Gently, he nibbles at my ear lobe and I have to suppress a moan, because he knows all of my sensitive spots and how to touch them to drive me mad.

“Jekyll”, he purrs and I feel his sinful lips move from my ear lobe down to my jaw, right above my stiff collar. The collar often rubs against my skin uncomfortably, irritating it, until I just want to tear it off my neck, throw it on the floor and trample on it. He caresses the sensitive skin and I shudder. “Hyde, please. I'm trying to work.” It doesn't sound convincing, I know. “Are you?”, he questions, his breath ghosting along my neck. “Because I don't see you working right now.” He is right, of course. I could just ignore him and proceed with my paper work. But I don't and we both know, that he has already won. I don't struggle today. No. I smile, turn my head and kiss him. He tilts his own to get a better angle and kisses me back. Somewhere along the line, I feel his nimble fingers remove my stiff collar and it's so much better without that nasty thing, so out of gratitude I open my lips to let his tongue in. He immediately claims my mouth as his and I relish in the taste of pomegranates and cherries. Hyde is talented and skilled and not before long, I'm entangling my fingers in his hair, wanting more. Everything fades around us and I forget how wrong and perverse it is to lie with another man, forget that Hyde is legally only twenty years old and could be my son (and as my creation he technically is) and that we're committing a serious crime**. All I know in this moment is, that I desire him and the forbidden fruit he offers to me. “Hyde”, I say, “Let's take this upstairs.” He grins in triumph and helps me up. He is never as gentlemanly as when he seduces me and that alone makes me want him more. Eagerly, we hurry to my bedroom. On the way Poole throws us a questioning glance, because it's only nine pm and I never retire this early. I just about manage give him the order to let no one come near my room for the night, before Hyde pulls me inside. He closes the door after me, locking it for good measure. It's a good thing I can count on the discretion and loyalty of my servants or we would both be ruined. He doesn't wait until we're in my bed, but pins me against the door. Greedily we devour each other's mouth, as we undress. Within moments, we're pressed against each other, skin on skin and I feel his heat and cold. His left hand brushes my nether regions, teases them deliberately. It makes me growl and I lift him up. He yelps in surprise and laughs, as I carry him to the bed, dropping him onto the sheets unceremoniously. I lie beside him and allow him to crawl on top of me, because he doesn't like to be the bottom, despite me being the older and taller one. He kisses me on the lips, then travels down my jaw, neck, chest and stomach, before ending up between my legs. I gasp, as his tongue caresses the sensitive skin on my thighs and I feel myself harden. Then he sucks me and I have to bite my arm to stifle my cries. “Edward! Ahhh … oh god … ohhh, don't stop … oh, Edward!” I make a sigh of his name, a moan, a cry, a plea … a prayer. Hyde doubles his efforts and now I can't hold back any longer. Then he shoves a finger inside me, two and three, but it's not enough, I need more, I need him sheathed inside me, ploughing me mercilessly, ravishing me like only he can. “Edward … please”, I beg him. He laughs and looks at me with a twinkle in his eyes. I whine, as that little devil removes his fingers and his mouth from me and sits up. “Why, my dear doctor”, he scolds me, “If you want pleasure, you have to work for it!” I know what is expected of me, sit up and get on my fours. With a last hungry gaze into his wicked green eyes, I position my head in front of his half hard erection, take it into my mouth and begin to suck it slowly. He moans lowly and I feel his spidery fingers entangling themselves in my blond hair. I know just how he likes it, I am his other half after all. He is rock hard in no time, but just like me, he wants more. He presses himself into my mouth completely, obviously expecting me to give him a deep-throat. But it has been decades since I last gave one, so I choke, when his manhood brushes my palate and pharynx. He notices and removes himself from my mouth. “Sorry, sorry. Shhh”, he apologises, as I cough and wheeze and he strokes my throat and cheek. “I forgot how much out of practise you are.” My gag reflex settles down and I can breath evenly. With a smile I clasp the hand caressing my face and gaze deeply and lovingly into his eyes. He smiles back with uncharacteristic tenderness and softness. I love this smile, because it's reserved for me, Henry Jekyll, his unworthy other half, his inferior creator. I want to tell him how much I love him. But there are no words strong enough and I'm too overwhelmed to say anything other than his name. “Lie down on your back”, he commands me and I obey and spread my legs like the whore I am. He runs his fingers up my legs and lets his tempting touch tingle my skin and kindle my desire to have him finally inside me. “Beautiful”, he whispers, eyeing my body as if I was an Adonis (I'm not). “Oh, you have no idea how beautiful you are, my sweet doctor.” He lifts my head and shoulder up, so he can kiss me on the lips and he does so, deeply and passionately. I requite the kiss with equal passion, whine into his sinfully sweet mouth and grind against him, because I want him, I need him, I need his fire to consume me until nothing is left.

“Edward”, I whimper, “Please … don't tease me any longer. I can't take it any more. I need you … I need you so bad!” Hyde smirks deviously and licks his lips sensually. “Oh, you dirty, lecherous old man”, he taunts me, “Grinding against me, begging me to fuck your brains out, like a London whore. Where is your prim and demure demeanour now? But fear not, my lusty doctor, I'll make you feel so good, that you'll forget who you are.” Finally, he positions himself in front of my hole and enters me in one rough thrust. I groan in pain, my eyes begin to water and I start sobbing, because I'm so overwhelmed by the pain and the desire and it feels so good to have his throbbing arousal finally inside me, but I still need more, I need him to live up to his promise soon. Now he begins to move slowly and teasingly, it's almost painful and I move against him, moaning, sobbing, begging him to pound me faster, harder. He complies and on top of that, he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking greedily. I gasp and entangle my fingers in his hair yet again. Our eyes meet, his glowing with diabolic passion, mine clouded with lust, love and tears of joy. A salacious grin appears on his face, then he moves his hand up to tweak my other nipple between his thumb and fingers and it makes me cry out and writhe in desire. All of this is too much for my senses. The way he savagely thrusts into me, snarls obscene things into my ear, licks, sucks and tweaks my nipples and then, to top it all off, he takes my own manhood into his free hand. I move into him as much as I can, screaming his name all the while. My entire being is on fire, I'm burning, the heat within me gets stronger and stronger. And I can tell it's the same for him, because his thrusts become even faster and more brutal and his panting becomes increasingly erratic. Suddenly he grabs my head, yanks me up and sinks his teeth into my neck and shoulders, covering them in love bites. Once again, pain mixes with lust and then his flame bursts. He comes with a guttural growl, I feel his seed explode inside of me and it pushes me over the edge as well, sets me ablaze. Stars dance before my eyes, I throw my head back and scream his name, as the flames of hell engulf me and I climax. And in this moment, I do forget who I am. We scream our orgasms out into the night and I'm pretty sure that someone hears us, but right now I can't find it in my heart to care. Hyde collapses on top of me with his sword still sheathed inside me and his skin is both hot and cold on mine, as we both lie in the afterglow, faces flushed, covered in sweat and semen, gazing into each other's eyes and smiling blissfully. “Edward”, I coo tenderly and caress his face. He smiles lopsidedly but softly, with a certain fondness. We lie like this for a while in deep relaxation and I am happy and in love. Then the wicked gleam returns to his eyes and he grins again. I blink in confusion. What could he be up to now? He rolls off me, then points at my sticky torso. “Do you want me to clean that mess, doctor?”, he suggests mischievously. I know how he means it and nod. Hyde goes to work and licks the stickiness off me with the eagerness of a common girl at the promise of more money. I sigh in enjoyment, while he cleans me as meticulously as a cat cleans her fur. At some point I feel heat arise in me again. Renewed excitement bubbles up in my abdomen and I blush in embarrassment. He sees my obvious arousal and cackles: “Oho! Looks like someone is ready for round two!” I chuckle quietly: “Edward, I don't think my bum can take any more.” That's true. In fact, I'm quite sure, that I won't be able to walk tomorrow. But Hyde shakes his head and laughs: “Who says that you will be the one, who gets fucked?” I gape at him in surprise. Edward Hyde hates not being the one in power. Normally he only allows me to top, when we're having angry sex or when I initiate it (which doesn't happen often), rarely in a relaxed environment. He smirks and busies himself with blowing my growing erection once more. I moan lowly and hoarsely, because my voice is gone from all the screaming. Meanwhile his hand runs up and down my abdomen and waist, making me mewl. Then I growl, because he gives me the deep-throat I failed to give him earlier. I struggle to resist the urge to press further into his mouth. That would make him choke, experienced as he may be. “Oh, Edward …” After what seems like a few minutes, he stops, removes his mouth from me and admires his handiwork. “What a glorious sight! Henry, you lucky sod! Do you have the faintest idea, how many men of all ages would sell their soul to be so vigorous and able as you?” I blush and look away bashfully. Really, my alter ego makes me feel like a shy young man all over again! He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him again. “No need to be so shy, Henry. Not after you begged for my dick and screamed my name so many times, that now you can hardly talk!”, he chuckles. My blush grows darker at how Hyde makes use of words that I would never take into my mouth. But then he returns to his spot next to me, lying on his back and spreading his own legs for me. “Come on, doctor”, he rasps and his bright green eyes darken with lust, “Your patient needs you to cure his fever.” That makes me smirk. He senses what I'm up to, gives me a warning frown and I understand. Being the bottom makes him anxious. I must not let him wait. I roll on top of him and he practically disappears beneath me, being so small. When I grind against him, he cries out, presses himself against me in return and wraps his legs around me. “Ah! Ohh yes … o-oh! Nnng – oh Henry – ahhh … oh fu-” I muffle him with a searing kiss. As he kisses me back, his thin, wiry arms wrap themselves around my neck and torso, keeping my body pressed against his. Shamelessly he moans into my mouth and I feel his tiny body rub against my large one. Finally the need for air becomes too great and we have to end the kiss, so we can breathe. His pale face is flushed, his dark hair is sticking into his face, his lips are reddened and swollen and his eyes are slightly damp, full of real longing and desire. It's truly beautiful, but if I told him that, he wouldn't believe it. I stroke the damp strands out of his face and kiss him on the cheek, before working my way down from his face, neck, chest, stomach and finally to his thighs and nether regions. He gasps, as I take his erection into my mouth and make up for the blowjob I messed up earlier, while simultaneously fingering him slowly. “Doctor! Stop teasing me. I need you … give me your healing staff … stick it inside me already … don't make me wait.” I almost laugh at the way he manages to work me up by bringing my profession into our lovemaking. “Of course, of course”, I say sweetly, before I grab his hips with both hands and enter him carefully. I groan lowly at the lovely sensation of his tight hole squeezing my rod. But Hyde hisses, face contorted with pain and I feel his legs tremble against mine. Then a sharp pain as he violently drags his finger nails down my back, most certainly drawing blood. That's another one of the reasons he hates taking it. It hurts him every time. I wish it didn't, but he is so small and tight and I'm big. All I can do is to be as tender as possible and ensure that he feels more pleasure than pain. “Shhh, shhh”, I coo, stroke his hips, sides and stomach soothingly and pepper his neck and shoulders in gentle kisses, while he whimpers into my shoulder. After a while his body relaxes and his breathing eases down and he leans up to breathe into my ear: “Move.” At first I go slowly and it's so hard to hold back. But my consideration pays off. Soon enough he closes his eyes and sighs in pleasure and my heart swells, because now he begins to feel as good as I do. “Oh, Henry … yes …” When I pick up my pace, I'm forced to support myself against the mattress, so that my other half isn't crushed by my full weight. He isn't fragile by any means, but I'm still a lot heavier than he is. “Ah! Ohhh, oh yes! H-Henry! Oh fuck! Yes! Henry! Harder! Faster! Please!”, he croaks. I sit up and pull him up into my lap, impaling him even further. Hyde begins to moan louder, as I pound into him, wraps one arm around my body, the other around my neck and starts to ride me. I groan at the sensation, at his expertise even in this field, at how bloody good this feels. “E-Edward … o-oh my god! Ah!” He probably doesn't hear it, he's too busy calling out my name in return. I'm so proud that I can make him do that, make him lose himself in the pleasure I give him. Then I take his hard-on into my hand and jerk him off. His moans turn into lustful howling and shouting and again he scratches my back, albeit this time not purposefully. I ignore how my eardrums are ringing from the volume of his shrieking and affectionately gaze at his beautifully flustered, euphoric face and drink up the joy flowing from his wide acid green eyes. “Henry! Ah! Yes, right there! Henry! Henr-” Again I muffle his cries with a kiss, our tongues dance, our saliva mingles and his body is pressed against mine and my own eyes fill with tears of love. “Edward”, I pant, “My dear … other half … my fire … my soul!” “My soulmate”, he chokes, “My doctor … my creator … my heart!” The flame within me grows and grows and I know that I'm close. In sweet retribution, I sink my teeth into his neck repeatedly, marking him as mine and drawing blood. Of course he scratches me again - this time across the sides, but this pain is nothing compared to the happiness I feel. My thrusts become rougher and I grab his behind, pulling him further onto me, while he wraps his arms around my neck and stares deep into my eyes. “B-bite me again – ah!”, he demands, “Mark me as yours – oh! G-give me your injection – nng! Fill me with your love – a-ah! P-please, I need it – ohhhh – fuck, I'm so close-” Who is the whore now? I smile and nod. Then he throws his head back and shouts: “Ahhhh! I'm coming! Oh fuck, I'm coming!” He ejaculates hard onto our stomachs and chests, his walls constrict around me and that is all it takes to push me to my own release. Everything around me becomes fire and heat and flaring light and I explode inside him with a grunt, harder and more than I expected for the second time this night. “Edward!” “Henry!” Our bodies quake from the orgasm, as the rest of the night is once more disturbed by our screaming. I don't know how much time passes. But as we sit in the afterglow, try to catch our breaths and gaze into each other's eyes, exhaustion finally settles in. Hyde rests his head on my shoulder, rubs his cheek against it and purrs. I resist the urge to make a cat joke, but chuckle and run my fingers through his tousled hair. The purring intensifies. Gently I peck his forehead and whisper, that I love him. He doesn't answer, but that's fine. He will never say these words, never will be able to. He can only express them in the only way he knows, by dropping his defences and giving all of himself. And I fall for him all over again. We kiss one last time, tenderly and affectionately. Finally I set him down and slip out of him. He rolls onto his side and I lie next to him, embracing him from behind. Hyde turns his head and tiredly grins at me over his bony shoulder. “Hey, Henry.” “Hm?” “Happy birthday.”

… 

*Common girl - euphemism for a prostitute.

**in August 1885 an act was passed to regulate prostitution. It contained an article that criminalised homosexuality. Up until then, it had only been sodomy, that had been punishable, but now homosexual love in general became illegal. It only was decriminalised in England and Wales more than 80 years later, in 1967, and a bit later in Scotland and Northern Ireland.

[arianakristine]

Title: Like My Mirror Years Ago                AKA The Prompt That Won’t Be Written

CHAPTER 7

                   Emma blew out a breath as she caught sight of the wooden playground. It did look like a castle, she decided. The bones of one, at least. When the school teacher had said to check it, this wasn’t exactly what she expected. The beach and the yard was barren, save the little boy atop it.

                Lonely, she’d said. The pang hit her once more. He wasn’t supposed to be alone, not like her.

                She climbed up the stairs that seemed strangely solid beneath her. It was well-made, at the very least. And she could only imagine what a kid that believed in fairytales would think of a playground castle.

                She slid up behind him and sat next to him in the tower. She took the book she’d been holding and held it out to him without preamble. “You left this in my car.”

                He pressed his lips together, eyes trained beyond the area. He took the book, but made no attempt to look at it or at her.

                She looked in the direction, and saw the clock tower. Its hands were in the same place, unchanged. Carefully, she pressed, “still hasn’t moved, huh?”

                He looked disappointed, his eyes squinting. “I was hoping that when I brought you back, things would change here. That the final battle would begin.”

                She sighed. “I’m not fighting any battles, kid.” Just the internal ones. Like why she wanted to stay so much when she knew it would only lead to bad.

                Henry turned to her, determination in his posture. “Yes, you are. Because it’s your destiny. You’re going to bring back the happy endings.”

                Emma felt something flicker inside her, something like anger. Couldn’t he see? She wasn’t nearly that important. “Can you cut it with the book crap?”

                He shrugged, and turned to her with a smile. “You don’t have to be hostile. I know you like me – I can tell.”

                Her heart squeezed. There it was again; that smile. It shouldn’t be familiar, because she couldn’t put a name on the face that she recognized in it. But that didn’t matter – she did like this kid. Already. Too much.

                “You’re just pushing me away because I make you feel guilty.”

                Yes. Yes, looking at him made her feel guilty. Not in the way he probably means, but guilt would be a word to describe the feeling in her gut. She had always thought giving him up would be best. She had believed it so hard. She was supposed to have been giving him the good life when she had signed on the dotted line. Why was it that she couldn’t see any sign of that in his eyes?

                “It’s okay,” he continued, giving a small sure nod. His face was far more serious than any ten-year-old’s should be. “I know why you gave me away.”

                She stared at him, watched as the dark in his green eyes cleared away. The kid knew?

                He smiled. “You wanted to give me my best chance.”

                Oh, Jesus. She blinked a few times, and looked away. Her heart was heavy, and she didn’t answer until she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake. At least, not completely. “How do you know that?”

                She could see him out of the corner of her eye, how he began to fidget. His own voice was strained. “Because it’s the same reason Snow White gave you away.”

                She felt the ire rise within her. “Listen to me, kid.” She finally turned to him again. “I’m not in any book. I’m a real person. And I’m no savior.”

                God, couldn’t he see she was a mess? She had trouble holding onto her own life. A survivor, that she might be willing to name herself. A savior made no sense. She hadn’t even been able to save him from the life she’d had, not really, not if he truly was as lonely as everyone seemed to say.

                “You were right about one thing, though. I wanted you to have your best chance.” She took a deep breath, mutinous tears itching at the back of her throat. “But it’s not with me.”

                His face crumpled, but he was trying so hard not to show it. Tears collected beneath her lashes as she watched his own stir in his matching eyes.

                She swallowed thickly and pushed off the structure. She was five steps away before she could address him. “Come on, let’s go.”

                “Please don’t take me back there. Just stay with me for one week. That’s all I ask. One week, and you’ll see I’m not crazy.”

                She turned back to him, her whole body resigned. “I have to get you back to your mom.” I have to leave.

                He shook his head, and she can see the frustration on his face. “You don’t know what it’s like with her. My life sucks!”

                She nearly vibrated in aggravation; couldn’t he see? Couldn’t he see that all this was better? Better than her? “Oh, you want to know what sucking is? Being left abandoned on the side of a freeway. My parents didn’t even bother to drop me off at a hospital. I ended up in the foster system and I had a family until I was three, but then they had their own so then they sent me back.”

                She sniffed, and tried to regain her composure. She was sure she wasn’t successful, but she tried to smile at the boy as she leaned down to his height. “Look, your mom is trying her best. I know it’s hard and I know sometimes you think she doesn’t love you, but at least she wants you.”

                I wanted you, a little voice inside reminded her. She remembered that feeling, so stamped down with every turn she made in the prison, but she remembered that feeling. She had wanted him.

                And she needed to get away and get him back to his mom before that feeling came back.

                He shook his head, little fists balled at his side stubbornly. He looked so angry, even with the tears staining his face. Oh, it was just like … just like— “Your parents didn’t leave you on the side of a freeway. That’s just where you came through.”

                “What?” she asked, confusion splitting her.

                “The wardrobe,” he said firmly. “When you went through the wardrobe you appeared in the street. Your parents were trying to save you from the curse.”

                She smiled tightly, her body shaking. She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t fight. She just wasn’t sure she could keep up with it. “Sure they were. Come on, Henry.”

                His tears were silent, and she could tell he was trying to summon the courage to fight them back. Her heart twisted, and she brushed her own cheeks as they set forward. He reached over and grabbed her hand, and she carefully curled her fingers inward.

                This kid. What was she going to do about this kid?

                She couldn’t even be surprised to see the sheriff’s car in the parking lot.

                She watched as Henry froze as the car door slammed. Fear struck the depths of her at its sight. But it was just the man, not the mayor, and Henry took off into a run toward him.

                She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling empty and so very alone as the kid hit the sheriff’s embrace.

                She shivered and tried to pretend it was because of the cold.

*

  11 Years Ago

                  She woke in the middle of the night, shivering.

                She came to consciousness with some irritation. The night before, she had been perfectly content, even warm. She’d always been able to sleep anywhere, and even in the unfamiliar and unsettling world she’d been just fine.

                Now it was as if the temperature had dropped thirty degrees in as many minutes. Her teeth chattered and she curled inward. Ideas of sleep flew out of her grasp as she focused on how uncomfortable it was.

                She blinked fully awake and rolled to her back, trying to bury into herself.

                It was still dark out, but the moon was full and bright. She sucked in a short breath. It was casting such strong light that it was a wonder to see. Pale yellow-gold, larger than any moon she’d seen before. Despite the cold, she peeled back the furs covering her in order to lean up, marveling at the glow.

                It was different. It wasn’t like back in Portland, or in Bangor, or in Baltimore, or in Minneapolis. That glow … something about it called to her. A wave of something flowing through her veins, tingling out through her fingers. It reminded her of something in that weird book she’d been reading, something about the energy. She could almost access it, she’s sure, if she just put her mind to it ….

                A rustle sounded to her right, and she whiplashed to it. She relaxed to see the wolf, its tongue lolling out to see her before it darted into the bushes again. She relaxed as she rubbed her hands over her arms. It was strange how comforting the animal’s presence was, how sure she was that it would keep them safe.

                Them. That reminded her.

                She leaned back onto her makeshift bed and propped her head up on her hand. She looked down over at him. In the moonlight, it was clear enough to make out her companion’s sleeping face.

                He was on his side, facing her. He was so much softer in dreams, his face relaxed and harder edges smoothing. He looked boyish, closer to the youth than the adult like this, like she must’ve when she was asleep. His jaw was slack, chest rising and falling rhythmically. His curly hair was mussed, falling across his forehead in soft tendrils. His lashes were longer than she first thought, thick against his high cheekbones. His lips were a warm pink, parted slightly.

                Her stomach clenched, realizing that her earlier realization wasn’t quite correct. He wasn’t attractive.

                He was … he was beautiful.

                Not in the way she’d been conditioned to believe, not from movies or shows or the posters the other girls would hang on their walls back in the foster homes. He was raw and natural, like the clearing in the center of the forest that had taken her breath away. There was more of a wildness to him that those old portrayals didn’t allow for, and an innocence despite it all that curled something in her belly.

                With strangely tense fingers, she used the hand not supporting her head to flit through a curl on his forehead. He shifted slightly, stirring, and she quickly buried herself in the furs again. She watched aptly, but he didn’t wake.

                She let out a shuddering breath, and finally leaned back. She stared at the moon again, and used her hands to cover her abdomen. Butterflies had begun within its depth, and she couldn’t stop them, as much as she wanted to.

                This was too real. It didn’t feel like a dream anymore.

                Her back ached from sleeping on the ground, and it was a different pain than from before. She had scratches from the branches she’d walked though, and they had added to themselves with that dull hiss and faded to nothingness. She’d had to wander off to relieve herself, and had eaten a considerable amount of foods with unusual flavor profiles. She’d read a book with words she was unfamiliar with, ideas she’d never thought of before. She was tired, and she had slept the night before and had been sleeping just now. Now, she felt awake and with new emotions bubbling in her stomach and increasing at a rapid rate.

                Her mind wasn’t this creative. This had to be her reality.

                She tried to pinpoint exactly when she had made that conclusion, when the last of her denials flew to the wayside. She didn’t know exactly. All she knew was that it had to do with him.

                She shivered again, harder this time.

                “You’re cold.”

                She startled and turned to him again. His eyes were still closed, and she was sure she dreamed it. Still, she whispered to be sure, “What?”

                His lip quivered, but she couldn’t really say that he smiled. “You’re cold. Come,” he said, and pulled his covering to tent up with his arm. “Share with me.”

                She sucked in a breath and blushed furiously. “I really don’t think—“

                “We’re near the water, and it gets icy in the morning. I’m used to it, but if you need to share body heat ….”

                She stiffened and tried to ignore the flush that overtook her body. “Wolf boy, I don’t know.”

                He sighed and rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Your choice. I’m just giving you the option.”

                She hesitated, then finally scooted closer. He took her wordless answer in stride, and welcomed her into the fold of the blanket.

                Every move was chaste, something he must’ve done with the wolf before. But her body tremored, and she couldn’t help the spread of heat as he held her. She swallowed when he tucked her close, bodies lining up carefully. Being warm enough was no longer a concern.

                “I’m glad you’ve chosen not to freeze.” His voice was gruff with drowsiness in her ear, accent rumbly against her back as he actually joked with her.

                She nodded, and tried not to think of how right it felt to lay with him like this. She moved her hands to cover his across the bottom of her ribs, skin sliding against skin until the butterflies hummed into something lower in her stomach.

                “You okay?”

                She nodded again, not trusting her voice. She struggled against the reaction her mind was telling her to be, trying to force herself tense in order to block from any attachment. She needed sleep, and this was fine. It was fine.

                If it happened to be that she liked being this close to him, that was nothing.

                “We can go to town tomorrow.”

                She nodded and pushed back into him. “Okay.”

                “Did you find your realm in the book?”

                She hesitated. His thumb had moved with his words, moving the fabric of her shirt along her stomach. “I don’t know,” she replied.

                She liked books. They had always provided an escape for her, and she usually chose fantasy above all else. The book he’d given her was more clinical, scientific in nature while talking about magic and creatures and different lands. It reminded her just a bit of the Harry Potter novels, but it was so different at the same time. But there had been mention, barely a blurb, about a land without magic.

                If this was real, that’s where she’d be from, right?

                “I’ll help in the morning. Let’s just sleep for now.”

                She nodded. She didn’t really feel like sleep was close anymore, not when she was trying not to make sense of the feelings swirling in her. He was so close; he smelled like pine and fire, and his presence was at once soothing and igniting.

                This was dangerous. She didn’t know how to deal with this.

                He was silent, and with great effort she was, too. They settled into each other, bodies merging into one being.

                Eventually, the steady rhythm of his heart soothed her, and her eyelids drooped heavily. She felt curiously safe, so much more than she should feel.

                If this place and vision was real … if she allowed herself to believe it like she thought she had … he was the reason she felt right with it.

                Had she been more awake, the thought might have scared her. As it was, she settled against him and slowly she let herself drift without a care.

                Before she surrendered, she had one final thought. She felt like part of her clicked in his embrace, like some pit inside her finally sealed.

                She felt like she belonged.

[bleedingcoffee42]

Absent- Part 35

Tracking Tag

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She broke eye contact and looked back down at her report.   There would be time for this later, the privacy they were enjoying would certainly not last forever.   “We went on a date.”

“Where?”   Roy asked.  He wasn't going to let an opportunity slip by to see where she fantasized about going with him.

“That Bistro you and Hughes always go to for the quiche.” She said.  “And you kept feeding my dog under the table.”

“He's a good boy.” Roy looked over at Hayate who was taking a nap beside his owner's foot. “So you still had him in your dream?”

“I brought him with me...the puppy Hayate in the dream world was named Blackie.”   Riza said.  “You gave him to Elicia as a present so Hughes would have to take him.   She named him Blackie and he was fat and spoiled and you carried pictures of your furry nephew in your wallet.  You were pretty proud of that.”

Roy snorted in amusement.  “Ok, so maybe other me isn't a complete idiot.  That's a pretty slick move.”

“At dinner you gave me your theory about the electric impulses...”  She watched him shake his head in disappointment.   “And we walked in the park and discussed the possibility of this coin as a weapon as well as why it felt like it was energized.”

Roy cocked his head.  No wonder she was being so protective of that thing.   “The coin is...powered by something?”

“I think I was trying to explain why it shocked me when I first picked it up.   Henry had to activate it when I touched it so I felt that charge of energy and spent awhile trying to focus on that event.  Like I said it was an attempt to try and figure things out.   We talked about how it could be made of philosopher's stone and you had no idea they were real.  We talked about the war and you were blissfully unaware of what it had been like.”

Roy raised his eyebrows.   He wondered if maybe he really could have maintained that naivety of his youth into his adult years if he had not seen what happened during the war with his own eyes.    The world outside of Ishval was unconcerned with what was happening in that desert and only gave it a few seconds thought when the evening news came on to report on progress.   The government did a good job controlling information and when the soldiers returned they were reluctant to speak the truth.   Everyone just wanted to move on.   Still, he couldn't help but think this other version of him was a complete idiot.  The signs of something awry were all around them, but perhaps you really had to have your eyes opened to see it.   After that there were things that could not be unseen, that you worked hard to forget but it changed you and your perspective on everything.  

“The war...it took a little longer to end and when I was looking at the newspapers in the library I came across casualty lists.   People from your unit, people I had saved...all on there.   The war didn't have a different outcome overall without us, but...people's lives still changed.  You just didn't know what really happened but you had some idea that things were just not right in the government. Clearly you were not worried enough to be ultra careful.  I was scared the coin was actually a weapon, that it had been left there to immobilize and kill and that the target was you.  Real you. I wanted answers and you were really trying to give them to me but it call came back around to thinking the back of the coin was a transmutaton circle that would reverse all this.  I realized I had no choice and had to go home and ask myself.”

“I'm sorry that fantasy me was a useless alchemist specializing in bio-electricity and couldn't help you.”  Roy said.

“You asked me out again and offered to send the boys to Central to research it for me.”  She said.   “You were sweet and clearly really eager to have a second date..”

“Shocking.”

She was going to have to hear about this Bio-electricity for a long time.  Why her brain couldn't make him something even more spectacular she didn't know.   “I went home...to Frenau.  It went differently than expected.  I thought she'd be my father, but she was resourceful and smart.  She really saw things differently.   She told me alchemy was a lot like the control I have when shooting but warned me about doing something that would affect the body.”

Roy could tell there was more to that meeting than she was saying, just by watching her roll the pencil in her hand.   He wouldn't push her, he knew when the time was right she would tell him if she wanted to.

“I returned to East City and no sooner did I think about trying to stay clear of HQ because of lunch hour do you spot me and ask me to lunch.”

“I'm warming up to this other Roy a little.  He's persistent, clearly knows a good thing when he sees it.”

“You were taking the boys out to lunch so we had a chance to talk about the coin before our next date, that evening.”  She said and put her pencil down.   “Ed and Al brought up some theories that were based on sleep studies that I believe I read while I was trying to deal with my issues sleeping.   So the idea went from bio-electricity to chemicals and that the chemicals were manipulated to keep the victim in REM sleep and also paralyse the body so there would be no waking up from the outside influences.”

“This was the work you were doing with your therapist?”  Roy asked.  He knew it was.  Riza came home and shared the information from her sessions with him and he knew she was entertaining this avenue of therapy because of him.   He couldn't seek help so she did it for him and had he known he would have stopped her.  It would have been a mistake, because the sessions were doing her a lot of good as well. She approached it as science, and in doing so found a way to talk about it with him and also utilize it in her dream.  

“Yes.” She said.  “And ultimately the concept of lucid dreaming was what allowed me to take control and leave it.    The discussion at lunch changed my direction of thinking, pointing out the connection to sleep.  I was already working on the assumption this was some dream, but I don't think I understood that that was the actual malicious intent of the coin itself.  So I had something to go on thanks to that. Unfortunately that's when things took a turn that made me understand how much my body and brain was fighting to overcome this induced sleep.   It was trying to scare me awake.”

Roy heard the fluctuation in her voice and resisted the urge to go over to the couch and put his arm around her.   Her eyes were down, staring at the rug and Hayate was up and jumping onto her lap.   This...was going to be the part where he died.

“You went to get the car and you had no idea that you were in any danger, that you were a target of any kind.  Scar showed up.”  She tried to not recall that part, but it was so vivid that she ended up seeing it all over again.   She took a deep breath and exhaled.  She could feel the tears welling in her eyes, just thinking of him dying was enough to make her emotional. “You walked right into him and in an instant he melted your brain. I couldn't help you and my bullets did nothing to chase him off...all I could do was hold you and you were gone.”

He gave up trying to remain strong and professional as soon as the first tear rolled down her cheek.  He got up and walked over to her and her brown eyes lifted to look at him, eyes shimmering with tears ready to fall.   He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and whispered.  “I'm right here. Nobody is taking me away from you without a fight.  We're going on these dates together someday, you and me, I promise.”

“Just don't die.”  She managed to say before the tears started to really fall.

“I have to eventually, but not before we accomplish everything we've set out to do.  Everything.” He said and placed another kiss on her forehead.  “I have a whole list of places in my little black book I want to take you and trust me that quiche place is not on it.”

She wiped her eyes knowing this was his way of changing the mood so she could compose herself.  Where he lead, she followed.  “You go there all the time.”

“So Hughes and I can moan about the quiche being 'creamy' and 'Just the kind of fluffy warm treat I love to have on my tongue.'  The quiche at the academy was better and it was made with powered eggs.”  Roy smiled as she looked up at him.   “We do it to screw with your grandfather who goes there to oogle the waitresses and make gross old man comments.   So Hughes and I make a scene...with each other.  Our performance is top-notch, that quiche is shit and should be used as mortar to patch the brick on the sidewalk.”

“You two are unbelievable.”  She said and he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket for her.   Then she felt a smile form as she shook her head.   He had succeeded in thwarting her emotional breakdown and went back over to his desk, afraid to linger beside her for too long.  

[ruminativerabbi]

Presidents and Emperors

Since I’ve been writing lately about the way I related to various events of 1967, I thought this week I’d write about yet one more: the performance of MacBird! I attended with, of all people, my mother. For readers too old or too young to remember back that far, MacBird! was a play by Barbara Garson starring Stacy Keach (at the very beginning of his career) and Rue McClanahan (long before she became the sexy one on The Golden Girls) that ran for almost a year at the Village Gate in 1967 and 1968, and which basically accused Lyndon Johnson of complicity in the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Layering the actual details of the Kennedy assassination and LBJ’s subsequent assumption of the presidency over the plot of Macbeth (with some side-dollops of Richard III and Hamlet), the show in its day was considered too radical for a real Broadway house and was relegated to the West Village, then (as now) the Manhattan-theater-scene equivalent of Siberia.  My mother, already slightly radicalized and by then a card-carrying member of N.O.W., was curious enough to want to see the show. I wanted to see it too…and I apparently wanted to see it badly enough to suffer the ignominy of going along with my mother. (And, for readers who were never teenaged boys, let me assure you that that we are talking about serious ignominy here.) Besides, I told myself, who would actually see me walking down Bleecker Street with my mom?

It was June, the same June on the first day of which the Sgt. Pepper album was released— a major cultural watershed-moment in my own life, as explained in this space a week or two ago—and during the first weeks of which Israel won the Six Day War. It was also the month of the Monterey Pop festival, the precursor to Woodstock that catapulted both Jimi Hendrix and The Who to real fame in America and brought them both, particularly Jimi, to my personal attention. It was, to say the least, an interesting month, that month of my fourteenth birthday. And, as if all the above weren’t enough, it was also the month I went with my mother to see MacBird!.

No one, not then and surely not now, actually thought or thinks that Lyndon Baines Johnson might possibly have played a role in the assassination of John Kennedy. Nor did anyone imagine (admittedly impossibly) that Johnson’s subsequent rise to real power was best understood as some sort of mystically-conceived prequel to House of Cards, the Netflix series that is precisely about the ascension to the presidency of an unprincipled, corrupt demagogue, the character of whose wife truly does feel as though it’s been modelled at least on part on the character of Lady Macbeth in Shakespeare’s play. But it mattered little that the point wasn’t actually to indict the sitting president of his predecessor’s murder, but merely to suggest the ultimate corruption of the political process…and the way that the fate of the nation had somehow come to rest in the hands of someone whose primary focus was not on the welfare of the nation he was charged with leading, but with the furtherance of his own personal political agenda. It was, as is all biting satire, overstated. But it caught the attention of the public, seemed somehow to capture the spirit of the time, and had a respectable 11-month off-Broadway run followed by productions in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and elsewhere.

Johnson, remembered now primarily for his “Great Society” legislative package and for his “War on Poverty,” was in 1967 primarily perceived by America’s radicalized youth as the bogeyman of the Vietnam War, as the man primarily responsible for the tens of thousands of American casualties—more than 22,000 American servicemen and women had died in Vietnam by the evening I saw MacBird! with my mother—in a war regarding the legitimacy and reasonableness of which the American people were, to say the very least, strongly divided. It wasn’t the fairest assessment. LBJ inherited Vietnam from Kennedy, who—at least in a sense—inherited it from Dwight Eisenhower. (The first American servicemen to lose their lives in Vietnam died in 1959.) And Johnson was, in a real sense, playing a zero-sum game by trying to fight a war in a distant land that had the inarguably noble goal of saving an ally from being overrun by Communist forces eager to reunite Vietnam as a single entity under the totalitarian leadership of its ruling cadre and, at the same time, not having the popular support at home to do the job successfully and effectively. Instead, we attempted to shore up the troops of the unpopular non-communist regime without understanding just how little support its leaders had among their own people. It was, therefore, a loser’s game. And, as happens when people play loser’s games, we lost. But that was still years in the future when I was making my way from the subway to the theater with my mother in June of 1967 and praying I didn’t run into anyone I knew from school on a theater date with my mom.

I was brought back to that whole experience just this week as I read about the turmoil the Public Theater’s production of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar has engendered, turmoil serious enough to prompt two major funders, the Bank of America and Delta Airlines, to withdraw their support for the production.  Of course, all this controversy will paradoxically make it impossible to get tickets to see the show, but that, of course, was hardly the goal...which was to signal the former sponsors’ lack of interest in having their corporate names attached to a biting piece of overtly political theater that is openly and sharply disrespectful of the current President and First Lady, and which they feared could possibly be taken as calling for the assassination of the former.

Gregg Henry plays Caesar as Trump, depicting him as a self-absorbed, preening tyrant who bathes in a golden bathtub that matches his shock of golden hair. His wife Calpurnia, played by Tina Benko, dresses extremely well and speaks with a distinctly Slovenian accept. You get the idea. Any student of Shakespeare knows that Julius Caesar is far more about Brutus than it is about its own title character, somewhat in the way The Merchant of Venice is far more about Shylock than Antonio, the actual merchant mentioned in the title. (Brutus has at least four times as many lines as Caesar, and the psychological tension—the exquisite psychological tension—that gives the play its relentless, unsettling energy derives from Brutus’s efforts to negotiate his way through a maze of conflicting obligations relating to comradeship, patriotism, honor, and duty.)

Nor is the notion of “updating” Julius Caesar to suggest its enduring relevancy anything new: as recently as 2012, the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis featured Bjorn DuPaty dressed up and made up to look eerily like Barack Obama in the title role in a production that appears not to have offended any major corporate sponsors at all. Of course, the concept there was to warn the public about the vulnerability of our first black President, not to encourage his murder! So here we have the same play, the same lines, the same plot—and even the same update concept of presenting Caesar as our sitting president—and yet the Public Theater’s Shakespeare in the Park production has provoked twin tidal waves of emotion, one responding as though the production were openly to be promoting the murder of Donald Trump and the other as though the principle of free speech itself were somehow to depend on Delta Airlines renouncing its right to choose to which cultural events it wishes to lend its name and where it wishes to spend its money. Both sides are just a bit overstated.

The function of art in society is to irritate and to provoke. But to imagine that the specific thing the Public is trying to provoke with this production is the murder of President Trump is really to misunderstand the play.  The key to the play, both as I remember understanding it in eleventh grade when it was explained to us by Mr. Bergman and as I understand it today, is to show how, although the assassination of Caesar was undertaken by people who surely felt themselves to be acting in their nation’s best interest, Caesar’s murder a true catastrophe for Rome…and, at that, one from which the Roman Republic never recovered. Caesar was assassinated in 44 BCE. Civil war ensued. Within a few years, Caesar’s adopted heir, Octavian, emerged as emperor of the newly-invented Roman Empire and democracy was gone from Roman soil for millennia. By acting violently to preserve democracy, the conspirators managed to destroy it instead.

The enduring brilliance of Shakespeare’s play lies in the questions it manages obliquely to ask. How far can the citizens of a republic legitimately go to preserve their nation by removing a leader working at cross-purposes with what they perceive to be the nation’s best interests? Who among the citizenry have the right to self-select as the nation’s saviors…and at what point does it matter that the path to salvation lies in violence?  Does the fact that no assassins can say with certainty what the consequences of their lawlessness will be mean, ipso facto, that all instances of extra-judicial violence are morally wrong…or merely ill-advised? Students of the Bible will think of Pinchas, valorized in the Torah precisely for having been so repulsed by the decadent, vulgar behavior of a fellow Israelite that he took it upon himself personally to serve as that individual’s judge, jury, and executioner. Students of history who feel deeply regretful about the failure of the famous plot to murder Hitler in the summer of 1944 will surely not feel that it is always wrong to act unilaterally to defeat a brutal tyrant. The simplest of assertions—that violence is always wrong, and that citizens may never act on their own violently to solve their nation’s problems—becomes far more complex in the discussing.

To the extent that the Public Theater’s production of Julius Caesar will usher its audience into the complexities of that discussion, it should be hailed as a legitimate piece of provocative theater. To the extent it reminds all who view the play just how devastating the consequences of even the most well-intentioned act can be, it will serve not as a spur to violence but, just to the contrary, as an argument against violence and lawlessness. To the extent that the Public’s production promotes the view of its artistic director, Oskar Eustis, that Shakespeare’s ultimate point is that “those who attempt to defend democracy by undemocratic methods [will ultimately] pay a terrible price and destroy their republic,” it should be hailed by all as a civics lesson for us all.

[its-lifestyle]

Now more than ever, fashion is embracing sustainability and not just from the consumer’s end. The labels themselves are also becoming environmentally conscious.

The recent fashion weeks saw several brands taking steps to highlight the issue to a wider audience. This is with the aim to alleviate the effect the industry has on the environment.

Gucci announced it was committed to becoming 100% carbon neutral, just a week before its runway show in Milan. Dior built its Paris runway surrounded by trees, which were to be re-planted in sustainability projects around the city.

Burberry, on the other hand, took steps to offset the carbon impact of its London show by donating to a number of causes and projects that prevent deforestation, as well as conserve parts of the Amazonian jungle.

New York Fashion Week showcased labels like Mara Hoffman, Chromat and Collina Strada. Each one adheres to a mission of adhering to fair trade practices, local or low-impact production, and/or transparent sourcing methods.

Chromat unveiled a swimwear collection made of sustainable lycra, discarded fishing nets, and up-cycled fabrics, while the Collina Strada show began with an environmental activist giving a talk.

Mara Hoffman did away with the runway altogether. Instead, the label brought members of the press into its office for an intimate presentation.

“There is garbage for the programmes, the food, and water, the sets. Are people renting things or are we breaking that down, and is it going into the garbage?” Hoffman herself told In Style. “So here I am not doing a show, and I don’t have any FOMO (fear of missing out).”

To top is off, the third annual Green Carpet Fashion Awards closed Milan Fashion Week. It saw Francois-Henri Pinault, CEO of Kering (the company that owns Gucci, Bottega Veneta and Balenciaga), presented with the Visionary Award.

Pinault told The Hollywood Reporter at the event that they already had a plan to achieve carbon neutrality. He noted, “But considering the urgency of deforestation and what is happening in the Amazon, we decided to put it into effect immediately and not wait.”

The night also saw Valentino Garavani honoured with the Legacy Award. It recognised the quality and durability of his label’s creations and the legacy of these pieces being passed on for generations – as opposed to fast fashion.

Dior’s green show space highlights the need for bio-diversity to survive climate change. Many of the trees sourced for the set were in danger of dying because of rising temperatures, and after being cared for, they were replanted around Paris.

Diluting That Carbon Footprint

It is without argument that fashion has an impact on the planet. These days, clothes are often regarded as disposable. The manufacturing process also releases harmful waste.

A 2019 European Union report stated that the average number of collections released by apparel companies per year has gone from two in 2000 to five in 2011, with fast fashion labels offering up to 24 new collections each year.

Last year, the United Nations pointed out that the fashion industry contributes to around 10% of global greenhouse gas emissions due to its long supply chains and energy intensive production. It also said the industry consumes more energy than the aviation and shipping industry combined.

“Shifting practices in the fashion industry to reduce carbon emissions is key to limiting warming to as close to 1.5°C above pre-Industrial Revolution levels, in line with the goals of the Paris Agreement on Climate Change,” reads the statement.

But the whole idea of “green” fashion is not entirely new. The industry toyed around with sustainable practices all the way back in the late 1980s – before it became a trending issue.

Belgian designer Martin Margiela’s debut collection in 1988 included what The Independent described as “a leather butcher’s apron reworked to make it an attractive evening dress”.

H&M’s Conscious Exclusive collection uses materials that have less impact on the environment.

Adhering to a philosophy of “nothing is lost, everything is transformed”, the man (who established French fashion house Maison Martin Margiela) also turned second-hand clothing and flawed fabrics into runway collections.

Marc Jacobs used to have a store in New York where leftover pieces from runway collections were turned into clothes and accessories under the label, Marc by Marc Jacobs for Marc Jacobs. Italian label Moschino sent its models down the runway with T-shirts saying “Stop Using Our Oceans as a W.C.” back in 1989. This was at a time when designers began using their designs to send a message.

H&M, lampooned for the sheer amount of clothes it produces, has long tried to reduce the impact of its fast fashion practices. Twice a year, the brand releases special ready-to-wear pieces that makes use of sustainable materials.

The Conscious Exclusive collection is now entering into its 10th year. The latest incorporates recycled brass and zinc, as well as fibre partly made from waste cotton, into designs.

Act Of Conscience

The people consuming fashion are also making a change. Just look at bundle shopping. It is no longer seen as just about being thrifty, but a great way to reduce waste.

According to Kloth Cares, a social entrepreneurship movement founded with the aim of keeping fabrics out of landfills through recycling, 2019 data shows an estimated four per cent of the total municipal solid waste generated in Malaysia comes from textile waste.

“That old T-shirt or pair of jeans that you plan to throw away makes up of 5% of solid waste that ends up in our landfills, if not recycled,” reads the statement on its website.

Seen at New York Fashion Week, the designs by Chromat were crafted with sustainable, regenerated nylon, spun from fishing nets recovered from the ocean.

This is where businesses dealing with second-hand clothes come in. Bundle shops like Bandoru Store for example, sells pre-loved clothing from Japan (both online and in its stores), all carefully selected and cleaned.

Recyclothes, an online fashion boutique based in Malaysia, offers second hand women’s clothes. The proceeds are then given back to society in the form of donations to charity organisations.

The younger generation, probably one of the biggest consumers of fast fashion, are all for it too. They are now accepting the fact you can look good by buying pre-loved clothes.

“Fashion is a way to express, and pre-loved items gives that opportunity to youths without spending too much,” says Muhammad Ali Khazurin, 24, who has been shopping at bundle stores for years.

For twenty-year-old Nadhirah Aminah Rashid, being mindful of your fashion purchases is something to be proud of. She said, “Not only we can save the earth, but we can tell the people that you don’t need to spend a lot to look cool.”

Others, like 27-year-old Cynthia Sim, said it is just a matter of changing the mindset of thinking that new is always better. To her, buying second-hand clothes helps reduce wastage.

And with consumers becoming environmentally conscious, it is only natural that brands and designers are following suit – which bodes well for an industry that is trying its very best to go green.

It also goes to show that fashion is increasingly aware of the impact it has on the environment. From the producers to the consumers, eco-consciousness is certainly a good look to sport.

from Style – Star2.com https://ift.tt/2BSb4sp

[batclevercandystudent]

Think what you want about motivational quotes, but sometimes, a few simple words hit hard.

The right words at the right time can change your mindset and become a catalyst for change in your life.

But here’s the thing:

The best hustle quotes and motivation quotes aren’t always from self-help gurus and motivational speakers – artists, athletes, and even rock ‘n’ rollers often say exactly what we need to hear.

Here is the quote that did it for me:

”On the day I die, I'll say at least I fucking tried. That's the only eulogy I need.' - Frank Turner, EulogyClick To Tweet My life is now dictated by this sentiment. I refuse to not take action –  on my passions, online business ideas, and everything I want out of life.

Do I succeed 100 percent of the time? Nope, not even close.

In fact, doing some quick math – and switching to a basketball analogy – I sink about two out of every ten shots I take. But, you know what?

I take shots every day. Every. Day.

I refuse to not try. I refuse to not fail. I refuse to sit on the sidelines.

This is who I have become. And this is how I play the game. Life is short, so you might as well play as hard as you can.

It can look easy from the outside, but I haven’t always been like this. I spent years spinning my wheels and getting no traction. For a long time, I failed to make the changes that would allow me and my family to live a better life.

But no more.

Perhaps it’s age or perhaps it’s that I’ve learned to stop caring if something will work or not.

Do you know what absolutely will not work?

All the stuff you are too scared to try.

Guaranteed.

If you are looking for a change in your life, these 101 motivation quotes are for YOU.

1. Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.

Jack Reacher has the best one-liners. This quote is a reminder that plans aren’t always enough. You also have to be able to take a hit and get back up.

'Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.' – Jack ReacherClick To Tweet

2. No one gets remembered for the things they didn’t do.

Quit talking and start taking action. Frank Turner basically lives by this creed, as a relentlessly touring musician and songwriter. He even finds time to write books!

3. No such thing as spare time, no such thing as free time, no such thing as down time. All you got is life time. Go.

Henry Rollins doesn’t believe in spare time — every second life is passing by. It’s up to you to make the most of it.

4. No one is you, and that is your power.

Dave Grohl, professional rocker, wants you to embrace individuality. Whatever kind of weird you are, stop hiding it and use it as a superpower.

'No one is you, and that is your power.' – Dave GrohlClick To Tweet

5. Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed no hope at all.

This mindset quote from Dale Carnegie is a light in the tunnel. When it feels like it can’t get any harder, you just might be about to achieve something great. Don’t give up.

6. Great works are performed, not by strength, but by perseverance.

We should listen to Samuel Johnson on the subject of perseverance. After all, he did single-handedly write A Dictionary of the English Language — before the existence of typewriters.

7. Don’t give up what you want most for what you want now.

In other words, keep your eyes on the prize. Short-term thinking can keep you from achieving big goals.

8. It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop.

Every journey must be taken one step at a time. It’s amazing how much progress you can make when you keep taking those steps. Use this goal setting worksheet to break down a big goal into tiny steps.

9. You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it.

Perseverance and grit — these are qualities Margaret Thatcher had in spades. Failing on your first try is no reason to quit.

10. Dreams don’t work unless you do.

Positive thinking won’t get you far without positive action. Leadership expert John C. Maxwell is right — you have to put in the work.

11. Don’t play the game. Be the game changer.

12. Success is not given. It is earned.

13. Take a moment and realize how blessed you are.

14. A positive mindset is one of the attributes of successful people.

Focus on what’s possible, what’s good, and what you can do. Author Sandra León writes that a positive mindset for entrepreneurs and leaders is the way to live an abundant life.

15. If you live for the weekends and vacations, your shit is broken.

Gary Vaynerchuk says your work should not be something to escape. If you’re not excited to go to work, it’s time to make a change. Whether you start a side hustle or explore a new career, do something that excites you.

'If you live for the weekends and vacations, your shit is broken.' – Gary VaynerchukClick To Tweet

16. Would you like me to give you a formula for success? It’s quite simple, really. Double your rate of failure.

This is one of the best growth mindset quotes because nobody wants to fail, but it’s necessary for success. Fail more, learn more, and do better next time.

17. It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.

Like so many mindset quotes, this one reminds you to keep trying, despite the risk of failure.

18. Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new.

Scientists like Albert Einstein understand making mistakes isn’t something to fear — it’s fundamental to making progress.

19. Challenges are what make life interesting. Overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.

What makes a meaningful life? Only you can decide. But for most, it requires occasionally getting uncomfortable and facing challenges.

20. Look yourself in the mirror and ask yourself, what do I want to do every day for the rest of my life…do that.

If your work makes it hard to look yourself in the mirror, why not start something new? Gary Vee writes about why now, more than ever, it’s possible to make a living with your passion.

You can learn how to start a blog, build an audience, and create a business around just about anything.

21. Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.

George Bernard Shaw embodied the growth mindset. If you believe growth and change are possible, you have the power to reinvent yourself.

22. Anyone can sympathize with the sufferings of a friend, but it requires a very fine nature to sympathize with a friend’s success.

Oscar Wilde reminds us to support our friends, whether they’re winning or losing. Rising above jealousy is part of developing a positive mindset.

23. Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young.

Learning throughout your life helps you succeed in business. But it also maintains the energy, curiosity, and excitement of youth.

24. When you want to succeed as badly as you want to breathe. Then you will be successful.

Eric Thomas is a master of motivational quotes — with enough passion and desire, you can achieve anything.

'When you want to succeed as badly as you want to breathe. Then you will be successful.' – Eric ThomasClick To Tweet

25. Most people never run far enough on the first wind to find out they’ve got a second. Give your dreams all you’ve got, and you’ll be amazed at the energy that comes out of you.

Philosopher William James is a surprisingly good source of hustle quotes. When you start to feel tired, you’re just getting warmed up!

26. Don’t tell me how talented you are. Tell me how hard you work.

As a musical prodigy, Artur Rubenstein had a huge supply of talent. But he knew talent can only take you so far — hard work is the key.

27. Don’t be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment.

If you do one thing to change your mindset, get comfortable taking risks. There’s not much to be gained by holding back.

28. What got you here, won’t get you where you want to be.

Continued success requires continued growth. That means even as you enjoy your achievements, you should look for new ways to move forward.

29. Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.

By constantly learning and improving, you can enjoy the present without the risk of being unprepared for the future.

30. The successful warrior is the average man, with laser-like focus.

Most of us will never be martial arts masters like Bruce Lee, but this motivational quote provides hope. Average people can do extraordinary things when they focus and do the work.

31. When it is obvious that the goals cannot be reached, don’t adjust the goals, adjust the action steps.

The trick to achieving any big goal is to break down the steps and adjust course as needed. Whether you want to make money online or build a house, the right action steps will get you there.

32. The question isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me.

Don’t waste your life waiting for permission, especially if you have visionary ideas like novelist and philosopher Ayn Rand.

33. It’s kind of fun to do the impossible.

A playful approach to tackling impossible challenges is fun, and as Walt Disney proved, you can build an entertainment empire with it.

34. The best revenge is massive success.

Of course, there are lots of ways to get revenge, but most of them leave you worse off than before. Instead of letting negativity win, Frank Sinatra focussed on achieving massive success.

35. Great things never came from comfort zones.

Neil Strauss is a writer who knows you have to get uncomfortable to uncover great stories and accomplish anything remarkable.

36. To die is poignantly bitter, but the idea of having to die without having lived is unbearable.

Death is inevitable, but living a fully realized life can ease the bitterness.

37. Man’s main task in life is to give birth to himself, to become what he potentially is.

Another of the brilliant motivational quotes from psychoanalyst Erich Fromm, reminding you to never give up discovering and becoming who you are meant to be.

38. Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try.

Being decisive is a key characteristic for entrepreneurs, and anyone who wants to accomplish big things. Decide, then take decisive action.

39. Patience, persistence, and perspiration make an unbeatable combination for success.

Think and Grow Rich, by Napoleon Hill, is one of the top 10 best-selling self-help books of all time. I consider it one of the best business books you can read to shift your mindset in a positive direction.

40. How you think when you lose determines how long it will be until you win.

The prolific G. K. Chesterton said losing is inevitable, but you can change how you think about it. The more quickly you bounce back and try again, the more successful you will ultimately become.

41. You can achieve anything you want in life if you have the courage to dream it, the intelligence to make a realistic plan, and the will to see that plan through to the end.

Sometimes lucky breaks help you get there faster, but achieving big goals is almost always a result of courage, planning, and determination.

42. Security is not the meaning of my life. Great opportunities are worth the risk.

As a powerful member of the judiciary at a time when women were almost non-existent in the profession, Shirley Hufstedler took risks that paved the way for many to follow.

43. The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make a mistake.

This is such a great mindset hack — recognizing that failing to act is often worse than taking the wrong action.

44. Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could … Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

It’s so easy to get caught up in regrets and “old nonsense.” Instead, treat each day as a fresh slate and a new opportunity to find happiness.

45. Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm.

Failure is such a major theme in mindset quotes because it has the power to torpedo ambitions or fuel success, depending almost entirely on how you look at it.

46. Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you did not do than by the ones you did.

Avoid regrets by doing those things you dream about. Sure, things won’t always work out how you planned, but at least you’ll have tried!

'Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you did not do than by the ones you did.' – Mark TwainClick To Tweet

47. The problem human beings face is not that we aim too high and fail, but that we aim too low and succeed.

Michelangelo set his sights higher than any artist of his time, and his legacy is a testament to the power of imagination. Whatever you set out to create, reach beyond mediocrity.

48. The first principle is that you must not fool yourself, and you are the easiest person to fool.

Another characteristic of a successful mindset is brutal honesty — especially when it comes to yourself. Knowing your flaws means you can work on improving them.

49. What man actually needs is not a tensionless state but rather the striving and struggling for a worthwhile goal, a freely chosen task.

Despite struggling more than most will ever have to, Viktor E. Frankl maintained his faith in humanity. He wrote that meaning is not found in complacency and comfort.

50. Whenever an individual or business decides that success has been attained, progress stops.

Entrepreneurs like Thomas J. Watson don’t stop to congratulate themselves for too long. They set the next goal and get back to work.

51. Improve by 1% a day, and in just 70 days, you’re twice as good.

Incremental changes add up to massive transformations. This quote is motivating on those days when you only have a tiny amount of effort to give.

52. We find comfort among those who agree with us and growth among those who don’t.

Seek out those who have different opinions, knowledge, and experience than you. There’s no growth to be found in an echo chamber.

53. The measure of success is not whether you have a tough problem to deal with, but whether it’s the same problem you had last year.

Thanks to John Foster Dulles, you can be sure tough problems don’t disappear when you are successful. As you move forward, you will face new problems with more knowledge and experience.

54. No problem can withstand the assault of sustained thinking.

This mindset quote is so important in this time of continual distraction. It’s up to you to set aside the time for sustained thinking and creativity.

55. Only he who attempts the absurd is capable of achieving the impossible.

The artists, visionaries, and entrepreneurs in the world have a mindset of possibility — that’s what enables them to do what’s never been done before.

56. Luck is when an opportunity comes along and you’re prepared for it.

Luck is not a mysterious force that appears randomly. You can make your own luck by doing the work to prepare yourself for opportunities.

57. The cost of being wrong is less than the cost of doing nothing.

Motivational quotes like this one from Seth Godin are constantly telling you that to risk being wrong in order to accomplish anything.

'The cost of being wrong is less than the cost of doing nothing.' – Seth GodinClick To Tweet

58. Being realistic is the most commonly traveled road to mediocrity.

The world needs your outrageous ideas, crazy dreams, and unrealistic hope. If you believe it’s possible and you want it bad enough, make it happen.

59. We must get our hearts broken sometimes. This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something.

Always risk breaking your heart, because what you gain is priceless. Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic is an inspiring book about creativity, that I recommend for anyone who is afraid to create — whether it’s a novel, a business, or a whole new life.

60. A man who has committed a mistake and doesn’t correct it is committing another mistake.

The mindset quotes that speak to us about making mistakes are priceless. When you make a mistake, it’s only a failure if you don’t learn something.

61. The only true failure lies in the failure to start.

Being frozen at the start line is a familiar anxiety to many. With a mindset that embraces making mistakes, we can confidently take that first step and let go of the outcome.

62. Vision is not enough. It must be combined with venture. It is not enough to stare up the steps; we must also step up the stairs.

Vaclav Havel had a vision, but it only resulted in positive change because he took the necessary steps — despite great personal risk — to make it a reality.

63. By amending our mistakes, we get wisdom. By defending our faults, we betray an unsound mind.

Humility is foundational to a productive mindset. And as the philosophy of Hui Neng states in this powerful quote, making mistakes is fine as long as you’re honest about your faults.

64. When the facts change, I change my mind. What do you do, sir?

Influential figures like John Maynard Keynes didn’t accomplish anything by ignoring facts. If everyone could get comfortable saying, “I was wrong. I change my mind,” the world would be a better place.

65. The very best thing you can do for the whole world is to make the most of yourself.

Self-improvement is more than a selfish quest for success and fulfillment. It’s also a way to improve the world around you by contributing your best work.

66. It’s not that I’m so smart, it’s just that I stay with problems longer.

Brilliant scientists like Albert Einstein have a mindset that fosters creative problem-solving. That means spending as much time as it takes to find a solution, and not giving up until you do.

67. Don’t worry about the level of individual prominence you have achieved; worry about the individuals you have helped become better people.

This is an incredible shift in mindset, suggested by an expert in business innovation, Clayton Christensen. Instead of measuring success based on personal accolades, consider how many people you have helped. For example, to sell courses online, think about how you can help your audience.

68. To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.

69. Things don’t go wrong and break your heart so you can become bitter and give up. They happen to break you down and build you up so you can be all that you were intended to be.

Keeping a positive mindset when bad things happen is not easy. This motivational quote from Samuel Johnson helps — getting broken down is part of becoming who you were meant to be.

70. Failure is success if we learn from it.

Turning failure into success is as easy as changing your mindset. When you see them as valuable learning opportunities, failures can’t stop you.

71. A great pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do.

Whether you call them haters, naysayers, or simply the status quo, there will always be people trying to keep you from going after your dreams. Enjoy the rush of proving them wrong.

72. History has demonstrated that the most notable winners usually encountered heartbreaking obstacles before they triumphed. They won because they refused to become discouraged by their defeats.

It’s true that the most stunning victories often happen after the hardest struggle. If you get discouraged and give up, there’s zero chance of winning.

73. Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.

This motivational mindset quote can get you through those moments when you feel like giving up. It could be your very next attempt that works.

74. It takes 20 years to make an overnight success.

Looking at people who have “made it,” you can’t always see the work they put in behind the scenes. Success is rarely due to a single lucky break — put in the effort, and be ready for opportunities.

75. Unless you’re willing to have a go, fail miserably, and have another go, success won’t happen.

There’s no way to avoid failure, so you had best get comfortable with it. Take a closer look at any successful person and you will see a string of failed attempts in their past.

76. Everybody dies, but not everybody lives.

Are you really living, or just going through the motions?

77. There are three musts that hold us back: I must do well. You must treat me well. And the world must be easy.

These three things get right to the heart of how to think like an entrepreneur. If you can shed these “musts,” you gain resilience, humility, and determination in the face of challenge.

78. It is never too late to be what you might have been.

This quote is an inspiration to stop wishing for a different past. Instead, create a different future.

79. There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

This is not like most quotes about motivation — it’s about avoiding pain rather than chasing success. Maya Angelou is giving you a directive to create: write, paint, sing, sculpt, and avoid the pain of staying silent.

80. It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.

At first glance, this quote seems contradictory. How can you become who you already are? The answer is to stop living according to the expectations of others.

81. Knowing what is, and knowing what can be, are not the same thing.

Psychologist and mindfulness researcher Ellen Langer has written much on the subject of possibility. Her research proves that shifting awareness towards possibilities (and away from limitations) is transformative.

82. We should open ourselves to the impossible and embrace a psychology of possibility.

These mindset quotes from Ellen Langer reinforce the idea that changing your thoughts changes your reality. If you blindly accept that something can’t be done, you will never try.

83. Certainty is a cruel mindset. It hardens our minds against possibility.

If you are certain your circumstances can’t change, you will never try to improve them.

84. There is always a step small enough from where we are to get us to where we want to be. If we take that small step, there’s always another we can take, and eventually, a goal thought to be too far to reach becomes achievable.

Don’t worry if it seems too far away right now — it’s not impossible! Use a goal setting worksheet to help you break down your goals into achievable pieces.

85. Failure is not fatal, but failing to change might be.

This growth mindset quote from Coach John Wooden forces you to look at where you refusing to change. You have to change something to avoid making the same mistakes over and over again.

86. Success comes from knowing that you did your best to become the best that you are capable of being.

This takes a minute to sink in, but doesn’t it take the pressure off? Success isn’t about winning. It comes as a result of always working to improve yourself.

87. There isn’t a person anywhere who isn’t capable of doing more than he thinks he can.

Your thoughts have so much power. Don’t put limitations on yourself before you truly know what’s possible.

88. Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.

The science of grit reveals that perseverance and sustained effort are more important than most other factors in achieving a goal. That means not giving up.

89. The best way to treat obstacles is to use them as stepping-stones. Laugh at them, tread on them, and let them lead you to something better.

Enid Blyton talks about treating obstacles with a playful and positive mindset.

90. Being challenged in life is inevitable, being defeated is optional.

Roger Crawford had more challenges than most athletes, but that didn’t stop him. He believed challenges would keep coming, and his job was to get past them.

91. The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees opportunity in every difficulty.

To change your mindset away from negativity, focus on looking for the opportunity in any situation.

92. Today I shall behave as if this is the day I will be remembered.

Each day is part of our life story, whether we think about it or not. So why not make each one memorable in some way?

93. We may encounter many defeats but we must not be defeated.

Maya Angelou writes about resilience in this inspiring mindset quote. You should never let failures and losses define you, or defeat you. Keep going.

94. Failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough.

Og Mandino, Greatest Salesman in the World, is all about the hustle quotes. When you’re determined to succeed, you can fail, shake it off, and try again as many times as it takes.

95. What we fear doing most is usually what we most need to do.

This mindset quote goes beyond the advice to face our fears. Ralph Waldo Emerson digs deeper and tells us to follow our fears. The things we avoid based on fear, are often the most necessary.

96. And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

The beautiful image in this quote from Anais Nin is powerful because it inspires such hope. We don’t have to be stuck forever — there is potential for growth when we are ready.

97. Sometimes you find out what you are supposed to be doing by doing the things you are not supposed to do.

There is wisdom in following curiosity. Instead of following the expectations of others, you can choose to do what excites you. That’s how you can find out who you really are.

98. Being a true badass has no weight or gender requirement — just 100% commitment to greatness.

It’s easy to focus on what other people have — talent, wealth, good genes — and get discouraged. What you can’t always see is the commitment and hard work behind the scenes.

99. You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow. This opportunity comes once in a lifetime.

Eminem is not typically known for his motivational quotes, but this one hits me every time I hear it on the radio.

Life really is just a one-shot deal. Since you can’t do it over, all you have is right now to jump on every opportunity.

100. Create a vision and never let the environment, other people’s beliefs, or the limits of what has been done in the past shape your decisions.

Tony Robbins is not only an expert in motivation — he’s a master of belief. He teaches people to harness the power of thoughts and beliefs to transform their lives.

101. Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone.

The time is now. Each day you put off taking action on your dreams, you risk losing the chance. Want to start a business? Choose one of these online business models and start today.

Use these motivation quotes for more than just motivation – take action!

As fun as a list of motivational quotes is to read, they are meant to inspire you to take action.

The goals you have for your career, business, and life – none of these can happen without you taking the action necessary to turn them into a reality.

So take just one of these quotes and use it – print it out, get it tattooed on your arm, whatever it takes. But use it to do work that matters to you.

You got this.

The post 101 Motivational Quotes: Simple Words to Change Your Life appeared first on Hack the Entrepreneur.

via Hack the Entrepreneur

[christinaepilzauthor-blog]

Common Myths of the Wars of the Roses - Myth #3 - Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, the 'Kingmaker'? Part 2…

A month or two ago, after a bit of a rant on Facebook, I started a series of posts to explode a few of the pervasive myths which surround the Wars of the Roses.

Here's the second part of my exploration into the notion that Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, deserves the epithet of "kingmaker".

We have seen in Part 1 how Warwick's role in the events leading up to 1460 was that of a supporter of the Duke of York, but not one who was trying to unseat the lawful king, Henry VI. However, with the disastrous defeat at the battle of Wakefield in December 1460, the political landscape of England was changed utterly. As Christmas presents go, it was to say the least, disappointing for  York's heir, Edward, Earl of March. The York-Neville alliance was in tatters and a new strategy was required. Now the decisions rested not with York and Salisbury but with their sons: Edward and Richard, Earl of Warwick.

Surely here then is the prime example of Warwick 'making' a king – but is it?

If Warwick himself had been writing the script, I have no doubt that it would have read thus: 

The Earl of Warwick took the inexperienced 18 year old son of York under his wing and guided him to power. That Warwick believed this to be the case is almost certain, but that doesn't make it true. 

The 'kingmaker' version of events does not match what actually happened. 

Though Edward might not have succeeded in taking the throne, without Warwick's resources, the pivotal events of 1461 were driven by Edward, not by Warwick.

Warwick was important because he drew support for Edward and had enormous resources of men and money, but in 1461 it was young Edward who pulled the strings – both on and off the battlefield. The traditional historical view of Edward was that he was lazy and indecisive – another colossal myth bequeathed to us by the Victorians, but that's for another day! In fact, especially in his youth, Edward was very decisive indeed and it was his drive and energy which dictated the fast pace of events in the spring of 1461, whereas Warwick was very much on the back foot.

In February, whilst Queen Margaret headed for London with a large northern army, Edward destroyed Jasper and Owen Tudor's Lancastrian army in the west at Mortimer's Cross, before marching east to join Warwick. At the very same time, Warwick was making a complete pig's ear of his attempt to stop Margaret's advance on London. 

The Earl of Warwick was not a great general – nor was he an especially lucky one. His chaotic performance at the second battle of St Albans could have destroyed the Yorkist cause. During the battle, he had no idea what was going on, with the result that most of his army was destroyed or fled. Then afterwards, he contrived to lose the one vital advantage he had which was possession of King Henry VI. Thus, when Warwick dragged the tattered remnant of his army to meet Edward at Chipping Norton, he brought very little to the table.

Edward IV, St Laurence's Church, Ludlow

This, I think, was the moment when young Edward realised that if he was going to be king, he could not rely upon Warwick to deliver the crown to him. Had Margaret decided to unleash her unruly army against London in February 1461 then she might well have secured the throne for her husband, Henry VI. Fortunately for Edward – and Warwick – she did not. Instead, almost inexplicably, she retreated northwards and allowed Edward to enter London in triumph.

In London, often supportive of his father, Edward could use the machinery of government and raise merchant loans to recruit another army with which he would later defeat the queen's forces at the bloody battle of Towton. 

London was therefore vital and there is no doubt that it was Queen Margaret, not Warwick, who handed him the city and all its resources.

The vital occupation of London was thus achieved in spite of, not because of, Warwick's efforts.

Becoming king in 1461 was not about diplomacy, or having the right policies, it was about winning a bitter and bloody struggle on the field of battle. During his reign, as I have said, Edward IV is sometimes accused of lethargy but in 1461 it was his drive and fighting prowess which won the day. 

Sometimes it's as well to step outside the cosy narrative of the history books and see the man as he was perceived by others. Edward was a natural leader and in the heat of battle men saw this giant of a youth – well over six feet tall – always in the forefront of the fight, hacking down his enemies with his fearsome poll axe. Warwick was a brave soldier and indeed fought bravely at Towton, but he could not outshine Edward. It was a truly terrible battle and the outcome was still in doubt quite late on in the day. It was the arrival of reinforcements from the Duke of Norfolk which turned the tide of battle in Edward's favour. So even then, victory owed little to Warwick.

Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, though he was very important to Edward's success, did not make Edward king in 1461; Edward did. Warwick was not a king maker.

The earl is rather like a competitor in BBC's The Apprentice claiming in the boardroom: "I negotiated that deal, or I got that special price, or I made that massive sale that won us the task."  

Warwick 'talked a good game' and after the throne was won, he saw himself – perhaps rightly – as the man who should be the king's chief adviser.  But in the next four or five years, events did not quite follow Warwick's plan. He hoped to be the guiding hand behind the crown and in his foreign diplomacy he projected exactly such an image. 

One of the features of Edward's kingship, throughout his disjointed reign, is his willingness to give his enemies a second chance. In most cases, this worked well for him and ensured that his government eventually included many who had supported the old king. Though at times this generosity backfired, it did gain him the respect and support of many who had not previously been his allies. 

How irritating must Warwick have found it in the 1460s to see his place of prominence being threatened by some who had actually fought against him?

Thus by 1469, Warwick was a very disgruntled nobleman who began to see that his own best interests might lie with an alternative to Edward IV.

But more of that in Part 3…

~~~~~~~~~~

Derek Birks was born in Hampshire in England but spent his teenage years in Auckland, New Zealand, where he still has strong family ties. For many years he taught history in a secondary school but took early retirement to concentrate on writing. Apart from his writing, he spends his time gardening, travelling, walking and taking part in archaeological digs at a Roman villa. Derek is interested in a wide range of historical themes but his particular favourite is the late medieval period. He writes action-packed fiction which is rooted in accurate history. His debut historical novel was Feud, which is set in the period of the Wars of the Roses. Feud is the first of a now complete four-book series, entitled Rebels & Brothers, which follows the fortunes of the fictional Elder family from 1459 to 1471. A new series, The Craft of Kings, picks up the story of the Elders in 1481 in its first book, Scars From The Past. Later this year, the violent events of 1483 are played out in the sequel, The Blood of Princes.

Website: www.derekbirks.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Feud_writer

Amazon author sites: amazon.co.uk; amazon.com

Hat Tip To: English Historical Fiction Authors