#i feel like there's too much focus on marcy getting ignored by the other two

[writesailingdreams]

realizing there's nothing in Marcy's story that sucker punches me to tears; there's nothing quite in Sasha's either, but her relationship with Grime gets a genuine sentimental sniffle

Marcy is a lot of "wow this girl should feel way more relatable, but doesn't; why??" + "please give this child a break"; it's a lot of sympathy but ultimately I think Marcy had to learn a lesson as much as the other two girls

[bellaxgiornata]

Do you have any tips for people who really enjoy writing fanfiction but struggle to actually get themselves to write it? Like I love writing specific scenarios in my head (mainly because that’s what I really want to read but no one else has written that yet) but I struggle to actually just get the motivation to do it, so my ideas just stay in my brain as a “I want to write this” and then the interest dies off and it never gets written.

I completely understand this feeling so much. Before I started writing in the Daredevil fandom I often just daydreamed in-depth scenarios in my head. I usually wanted to write them into stories but then I just...never did it. Even though I have been writing different fanfics in different fandoms for a really long time, I more often than not just created up scenarios that lived in my head and then that was it because I never wrote them down. So nothing ever came of them and I was never able to share them with anyone. I could have written so many more things if I'd just sat down and tried.

(As always, I'm long winded so more below the cut 😅)

In all honesty when this happens, I think the best thing to do is just that. Just sit down in front of a blank document and free write whatever comes to you. Take the pressure off of yourself first and foremost, though--you don't have to share whatever comes out with anyone. Don't tell yourself that it has to be good, either. Have literally zero expectations for whatever ends up on the page. More often than not, that really helps the words start to flow. When you sit there and nitpick how you're starting a sentence or a scene or a word choice, that's when you start second guessing everything and that can often lead to thoughts like "I can't do this" or "no one will read this" or the classic "I suck at this" (which I still hear in my head some days). Ignore all that bullshit and just focus on whatever it is that's in your head--a conversation between some characters, maybe an entire scene you've had playing out in your mind, a fight scene, or whatever it is that you're currently excited about. Just sit down and try to get it out with no expectations. Because you can absolutely always come back to it and edit it up how you want after the fact and make it into a story or a one shot or whatever if you want, but the hardest part is just getting something out on a page.

But truthfully, the only way to write something is to make yourself sit down and do it. I don't know of any other tips to give besides that. Sure, you can make a playlist or a mood board for the vibe of a story or a character. You can make outlines of what you're seeing in your head that'll give you bullet points of what you picture happening. But really you just have to get excited enough about whatever it is that's on your mind and write it. And I think that's part of the beauty of writing fanfic when you do share it and people interact with it. The commentary and interaction from readers is what helps keep the excitement for a story alive for the writer, which then gives us that necessary motivation to keep coming back to work on a story. Because any writer will tell you that sitting down and getting the words out is hard. Some days it sucks and you have to slog through it to keep going, but that's just a part of the process. Over time it becomes a habit, though.

Hopefully any of that somewhat helped, but unfortunately there isn't some magic answer to make it easier to get started. Having other writers to talk to about your ideas really helps, too. Or just someone to talk with/at about whatever is on your mind. Breaking an entire fic idea into chunks chapter by chapter helps if you're making a big story, but just picking a starting point and writing it is your best bet. I actually first wrote the entirety of Marci and Fog's wedding for FFTD and then worked my way backwards afterwards to start that huge ass series. It all started with those two installments and the idea/scene in my head that I didn't get to until "The Breaking Point" far later. So you can absolutely just start with an idea and expand on it. But unfortunately, you kind of just have to force yourself to start somewhere 😅

[mdhwrites]

Don't you think it's short selling Sasha and Marcy by saying they aren't major players?

Like it's kinda weird you'd sooner consider the Wartwood citizens to be more major than those two. I mean those guys (like Ivy, Maddie, Croaker, Wally, Toadie, and Felicia) only get like one or two focus episodes per season individually at best and it's not as though they have much of a story arc with them or have as much involvement in the overarching story the same way as Sasha and Marcy do.

Like if you count all the episodes that put Sasha or Marcy in a major role, I'd argue they may actually have more focus episodes than Polly (who appears more than them).

For crying out loud, Matt Braly has outright lumped Sasha and Marcy in as main cast in Tweets with one for season 3B even having him outright state Sasha and Grime are main cast in season 3. Voice director Eden Riegel also lumps Sasha and Marcy's voices as part of the main cast with Anne and the Plantars so they're clearly intended as major players, or at least higher on the prominence scale than the Wartwood citizens.

And it makes me wonder how you would classify characters in other shows that are too prominent to be lumped as simply supporting and nothing more, but also aren't 24/7 main cast.

Owl House has Amity, Willow, Gus, and Hunter (who are kinda similar in prominence with Sasha and Marcy) as not being 24/7 main players like Luz, Eda, King, and Hooty, but also too prominent to be lumped as just supporting and nothing more like the Hexside characters such as Boscha, Skara, Bump, and the Blight Twins.

My Little Pony Friendship is Magic has Starlight, Celestia, Discord, Luna, Trixie, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders as not being 24/7 main players like the Mane 6 + Spike, but too prominent to be lumped as just supporting and nothing more as well.

Star vs the Forces of Evil has Eclipsa, Tom, Moon, Ludo, River, Janna, and Pony Head in that same territory as not being 24/7 main players like Star and Marco, but too prominent to be lumped as just supporting and nothing more.

Steven Universe has Connie, Greg, Peridot, and Lapis in that same territory as not being 24/7 main players like the main 4 Crystal Gems (Steven, Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst), but too prominent to be lumped as just supporting and nothing more.

Sasha and Marcy certainly have way more prominence than the Wartwood citizens and I feel you're kinda underestimating them into being minor supporting and nothing more, ignoring their importance to the show's story.

Well, I deleted this after not wanting to deliberate on the definition before but if this is going to come back each time I say what is my opinion:

I have never called Sasha or Marcy minor supporting characters. I even admitted in my last blog to Sasha being the primary antagonist for 2 seasons, just that her presence isn't really felt. Honestly, I've been trying to be NICE to Marcy but she has seven episodes dedicated to her... If you REALLY stretch the definition because I'd argue half of those are actually about Anne while we're simply told things about Marcy for Anne to wallow about or Marcy is just there for moralizing at Maddie in what is actually a Maddie episode so that's closer 3-4 which puts her on par with TOADSTOOL. If not straight up behind him.

I'm not saying they're unimportant. I'm not saying they're bad. Just that the focus of the story is on change and on community. Singular characters struggle to fit those themes. Sasha exists for two entire seasons just to challenge them as she opposes Anne's willingness to change, is stubborn in her refusal to change and loses her community because she's not willing to show care to them. It's really good... But it's SEVEN episode segments out of almost EIGHTY. And in s3, she gets two more dedicated to her and then is more an ensemble member for the Oum stuff, especially mother Oum, and then helps in the final fights of the finale, with a bit of her being commander sprinkled in like any random Wartwood citizen before.

And why is that? Because she joins the main cast the same way ALL of Wartwood is a part of the main cast. In finding community, she finds a place amongst the main players but I do not consider HER, INDIVIDUALLY, to be a main character, just like I don't argue Hop Pop or Polly are INDIVIDUALLY main characters. Honestly, questionably even Sprig.

It's the idea that a supporting group of characters can come together enough to build a main pillar of the show better than any one of them. If you claim NONE of the Wartwood characters are main characters, you trivialize the ENTIRE SETTING. But those characters are interconnected enough, tied together so tightly as a joint unit of characters, even if only one or two may get focus per episode, that you can see their change happen gradually in their own, collective arc.

And that arc is more important and arguably even more powerful. After all, if Wartwood hadn't changed, Sasha would never have gotten her second chance. She'd have died in Turning Point. Or they wouldn't have ever gone back to them in the first place. Marcy might have been told to piss off simply because she was from Newtopia because they didn't want to be looked down on. The armies might not have come together if Wartwood and others weren't moved to start thinking of the bigger picture rather than petty squables.

These are all critical to payoffs in the show and the themes, just as much, if not more, than anything with Sasha. It's why I think Thai Temple is one of the most important S3A episodes because it reassures that you don't have to go to a fantasy realm for community. There are lots of them who wish to share who they are, welcome in people with open minds, etc. like that and who will support each other in dark times.

There's a reason why Anne's final words to the Core, her refusal of it absolutely, isn't about Marcy and Sasha. It's about the world. And of course she's the one standing there because she has had the biggest impact on, and impacted by, the various communities of Earth, Amphibia and Wartwood especially. She is fighting for them, for they are her greatest treasures.

SO. With my having hopefully made myself clear: Let's talk about some of the claims you make with other shows so I can dig myself a hole. If you just want the Amphibia stuff, you can leave now.

TOH is a fucking nightmare to classify. Main characters often are meant to be storytelling engines, help establish what is most important to the show and set the status quote for antagonists and side characters to disrupt. Again, it's why Sasha actually makes a great primary antagonist early on for the capstone episodes because she does challenge Anne on much of this, just isn't around 99% of the time.

TOH has the problem that a story can be poorly written enough to make you wonder "WHO THE FUCK IS THE MAIN CAST!?" There's ALL sorts of arguments I could make, not helped that just time wise, Amity takes up a literal third of the show and doesn't help themes, doesn't push the plot forward and mostly doesn't fit the show's GENRE even. But time wise, she actually gets close to as much, time especially Luz, as Eda does. Eda spends literally NO time with Luz in the second S1 after all because she's too busy spending time with her sister.

Gus and Willow are LAUGHABLE to be called main supporting characters because every single one of Willow's episodes is actually someone else's and Gus gets one every half season and they also had to break their magic for one of them with a retcon. Hell, Willow gets maybe a dozen lines in the entirety of S2A and then I'm not sure if she actually says more than two lines to Luz in the entirety of S2B.

The only other one I can comment on is MLP which I watched... A bit over five seasons if I'm remembering right (I despised Starlight's redemption as one of the worst redemptions I've ever seen, let alone how it felt like they were performing character assassination on others to make Starlight look good afterwards) so this is from that perspective.

And like... No. Just no. Not even the entirety of the Mane 6 are always there and Spike certainly isn't around 24/7 but the only characters you listed, besides Starlight because yes, she was made into a main character, who got more than MAYBE two episodes a season are the Cutie Mark Crusaders. A lot of the fandom WISHES Luna and Celestia did more instead of feeling like a stiff breeze can incapacitate them and getting mentioned does not make you a main character. Trixie was a reoccurring villain but not very often. Even with the CMC, Apple Bloom is a main supporting character of Applejack... But they themselves are more side characters. They're along the same vein as most of the Wartwood citizens honestly.

None of them are bad mind you, I have been inspired by all the characters you've listed (Michael Hudson on fimfiction and no, I do not condone everything there but I don't like denying my past and so I don't nuke the entire account) before and I like a lot of stories with them. It doesn't make them main characters. At best, I'd put them in a middle tier where they're just supporting characters and part of that's simply because SIX MAIN CHARACTERS IS A LOT OF MAIN CHARACTERS. It's kind of hard to get in a word edgewise when that's the case, something TOH also suffers from.

I keep main character status TIGHT because those are the characters the story genuinely revolves around. If your existence only revolves around a different character, you're probably not a main character. As an example of my own work: In Rich Witch, I'd argue Pythia, despite being a part of the main 5 girls, is not a main character. Arguably, neither is Blair as she takes on more of an antagonist role. The main characters of that series are Azu, Igni and Daina. If a plotline doesn't have any effect on those three, I'm not going to include it.

And I think that's just straight up better for storytelling, at least if you're going for a tighter, more focused narrative. After all, the six protagonist for MLP work BECAUSE that show isn't about having a tight narrative so having a wide breadth of perspectives to potentially invoke stories is useful for it.

Amphibia is not the same way which is why I argue if anyone is the main character than Anne... It's in units because the whole of those people being affected matters more than any singular one. And that isn't me calling them bad, or unimportant or disinteresting. It's just me classifying it as I believe and that will paint how I analyze the show.

Sorry if you don't like it.

======+++++======= Side note: Don't expect more blogs on this topic. I have now addressed it but I don't think it's actually that useful of a point to deliberate, not when I'd rather talk about how effective the characters are regardless of their specific titles. After all, for as much as I want to teach with this stuff, it's still MY opinion and this is how I view the show.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

[citadelspires]

Amphibia Oneshot Thing(I Never Claimed To Be Good At Titles)

I had an idea for a fun little story thing while I was at work over the weekend, and decided to take the time to write it up into this. In all honesty this is ridiculously self indulgent, and I wrote it late at night with no editing, beta reading, or even just looking back over it once I finished. Essentially I wrote this entirely for myself and just threw it on here in the hopes maybe a few other people might enjoy it like I do. That’s all I gotta say up front so just, here you go. (this is a long one so most of the story will be under a cut).

Anne found herself wandering around a lot of parks these days. After all her time inAmphibia sitting around in her house only made her anxious, and the city was just dull. So she would sit in the areas with the most foliage, where it always felt the most comfortable. Like one of her old adventures could come find her any second. Like she could pretend her friends were just around the corner and surely if she waited just one more second Marcy would come tumbling out of those bushes, launching right away into a rambling speech about a new plant she'd found, the perfect mix of adorable passion and somewhat interesting information that would always make Anne smile.

She knew that wasn't going to happen. She'd known and tried to force herself to get used to the idea, but even as her miserable daydream was interrupted by the rustling of the very bushes she'd imagined, she hoped for a second maybe she'd imagined it all. She hadn't of course, and the boy who pushed his way out of the bushes was anything but her Marcy. Even so, he must have noticed her solemn expression, because he immediately walked over to where she sat with a look of concern on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Anne was surprised by the question for a moment, then again, she realized, she probably did look pretty miserable, moping around in the dirt in a random park. She was tempted to give an offhanded reply of dismissal, she was fine and his concern was almost certainly just a polite formality. But she was never good at following through with all that smile and say Im fine stuff.

"I've been better," she sighed.

The boy in front of her frowned, and took a seat beside her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Anne blinked in surprise, not expecting that reaction. She took a second glance at the kid, wondering what his deal was. He looked a few years younger than her, probably about Sprig's age, dressed for wandering around the woods. He looked like a kid who liked an adventure, maybe that's why Anne felt like she might be able to talk to him. She couldn't say everything of course, god knows she'd need a full time therapist for all her turmoil, but maybe she could simplify it a little bit, dance around the truth slightly. Besides, the more she thought about it the more the idea of talking to a regular kid sounded nice.

"Well," she began, searching for each word and phrase carefully, "a while ago, me and my friends found this weird place. It was scary at first, and I was nervous for a bit, but after a while I grew to love it a lot. I think- I know my friends felt the same. It was a really magical place, but it, uh, well its not around anymore. And I feel like I left a part of myself with it." Anne suddenly became overwhelmingly aware that she had just poured her heart out to a random stranger, and probably sounded insane on top of it, "Ugggh I sound stupid, nevermind kid just ignore me, thanks for trying though."

She started to get up and walk away but the boy jumped up at the same time.

"Wait, hold on. I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but from the sound of it, I think I kind of get it. I've got a pretty magical place of my own, I can't imagine loosing it. I know it's not the same but, I could take you there, if that would help?"

Anne turned back to look, not sure why this kid was so eager to help, until she saw the look on his face. He just looked like a kid who wanted to help, just for the sake of being nice. In that moment he reminded her of Sprig again, and she couldn't help it, she laughed.

"Seriously? You don't even know me. You sure?"

The boy shrugged and smiled. "There's lots of cool people I don't know yet. And you seem nice. So," he reached out his hand, "my name's Craig, nice to meet you."

As weird as this was, Anne had seen weirder, so sure, why not. She took the boy's hand.

"Call me Anne."

---

As they walked Anne started to wonder where this weird kid was taking her. Sure “magical place” in her situation was fairly literal, but she didn’t think she was exactly in the most common position for a kid. Or really for anyone for that matter. Still, the boy seemed pretty excited about it, so she figured she’d give it a shot. Better than moping around in some random bushes all day. Who knows, maybe she could even get her hopes up a little bit there would at least be something cool out there.

‘Something cool’ turned out to be a tree stump. Anne wasn’t sure if the kid was serious or not when they first got to the clearing, but based on the way he jumped up on the tree base and spread his arms wide.

“Welcome to the stump!”

Anne stared at him for a few seconds, not sure how to respond. Before bursting into laughter. She just couldn’t help it. There had been so much buildup, all for, apparently a regular tree stump. Craig crossed his arms and spoke up.

“Hey, I know it doesn’t look like much, but you haven’t seen anything yet, watch this!”

Whatever he was about to do, though, was cut off by a battle cry and a flash of orange hair flying at Anne from the trees. It was pure instinct, really, when Anne dove behind cover of the stump screaming,

“It’s an ambush!”

She realized her mistake a few short seconds later. Ivy Sundew literally could not be here. So, with no small amount of hesitation, she peeked over the edge of the stump to see a small girl pointing a homemade sword at her while trying to cover up a pouting expression. Anne could vaguely make out the girl muttering under her breath about how “noble warriors don’t ‘ambush.’“

“So, uh, are you gonna put the sword down orrr...”

Anne trailed off as the girl gave her a weary glance and muttered something about ‘intruders.’ It was at this point that Craig, who seemed to have tripped and fallen off the stump in the chaos, also poked his head back up and called out,

“Kelsey, wait! She’s with me!”

The short girl’s demeanor changed immediately.

“Oh, cool! Hi Craig, hi new girl, sorry I attacked you, I thought you were a devilish intruder.”

“Don’t worry about it, I get randomly attacked a lot, it happens.”

The girl, Kelsey, apparently, looked over Anne again, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“You do? Do you need a heroic guardian to protect you?”

Well, Anne noted, maybe this girl wasn’t so similar to Ivy after all. Though she still got the feeling the two of them would get along exceptionally well. She gave Kelsey a grateful smile, but shrugged off the offer.

“Nah, I’m good.”

Kelsey nodded, seeming to finally relax, though she did pause for a moment and stare off into the distance, though to Anne it seemed more like she was probably just gazing into the depths of a random tree. She gave Craig a curious look, but he only waved it off, apparently this was just how things worked with Kelsey. Noted. When she came back down to earth Craig was waiting with a question,

“Where’s J.P.?”

“Oh he found a butterfly and then chased it into a mud puddle. It was close though so I went on ahead.” Her tone of voice suddenly changed into a much more dramatic one. “He and I both had our own battles to fight.” Before immediately going back to her normal one. “But he should be right behind me.”

Sure enough it was at  that moment another boy crawled out from the foliage outlining the clearing. This one already in a considerably messier state than either of the kids Anne had met so far. He wandered over to the stump, repeating the tale Kelsey had just told them, this time with a much higher focus on the mud puddle. He didn’t seem to notice Anne at all until she cleared her throat and waved hello. The boy, J.P. she assumed, immediately jumped with an exclamation of surprise.

“Relax J.P. she’s cool.”

Anne was a little pleased to notice this reassurance came from Kelsey this time, and didn’t miss the way Craig nodded in agreement.

“She was off by herself so I thought we could give her a tour of the creek.”

That last bit caught Anne off guard, just a bit. Up till this point she had just been assuming Craig had took her here to see the stump and his friends. She wasn’t sure how much more exciting one creek could be, but after all her time in Amphibia she wasn’t one for making too many assumptions about that kind of thing. Turning her focus back to J.P. she noticed how he looked her up and down with squinted eyes, before seeming to focus on the leaves and sticks that had (again?! seriously?!) gotten tangled in her hair, and nodding sagely.

“Good call Craig! I like her style.”

As J.P. immediately began to inspect the ground for his own leaf, which he immediately deposited snugly in his, much shorter, hair, Craig waved Anne over to the stump, where he’d rolled out a large piece of paper.

“This,” he announced proudly, “is my map of the creek!”

Anne wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but a fully detailed expansive rendition of what must have been a really large area of land, complete with notations of inhabitants, activities, landmarks, and literally anything else one could find to write down, had not been it. She gave a low whistle of appreciation. Man Marcy would’ve loved this.

Craig beamed at her show of awe, allowing himself a pleased, “drew the whole thing myself” before asking, “So, where do you wanna see first?”

---

After that, Anne was pulled around the creek to all sorts of locations, each one more intricate than the last. There was an entire colony of kids in these woods, a civilization even. Even on Amphibia she had never seen anything quite like it. It was wild, and, kinda cool? The more she saw the more she started to get what Craig meant. The whole place had its own feeling to it that didn’t quite mesh with any of the surrounding area. After a while, she was even able to push (most of) the weight that had been on her shoulders for so long to the back of her mind.

Which wasn’t to say that her time in Amphibia left her completely. In all likelihood it was more inclined to have already made her a primary target for whispers and gossip to all the kids there. Though she never would’ve expected it before she’d gotten flown away from earth so long ago, she was kinda an expert at being in the woods now. Though she did slip up once or twice. For one dangerous moment there she was mortified that everyone would think she was insane when, upon being shown to the trading tree she had casually remarked,

“I don’t see why you need a whole place to trade for snacks when there are so many perfectly good bugs to eat out here.”

In her defense, she also preferred a good bag of chips over tiny dirt critters, but what could she say, she’d gotten used to a lot of weird things. While her immediate first reaction upon the words escaping her mouth had been to play it off as a lame joke(especially considering the way all the kids stared at her, some in horror, some in awe, at least one clearly wondering to themselves why they didn’t think of that first, the clearing totally silent save one kid who apparently didn’t get the memo and loudly exclaimed something Anne thought sounded like “my candy!”) her backup plan ended up being totally unnecessary as J.P. just started laughing, confidently proclaiming,

“I told y’all, she fits right in here”

And sure, maybe that made Anne smile just a little bit.

After that they had a few more people to meet, including a few girls prancing around a big open field, one of whom blushed slightly as she informed J.P. that she liked his leaf, to which J.P. gave a cheerful giggle and a thanks. (Anne considered it one of her foremost signs of character development that she didn’t break out any magazines as soon as they got back to the stump). But eventually things started to wind down, and the trio of friends, along with their new straggler, made it back to the little home base.

Anne took a few minutes to discuss the finer points of exploring woods with Craig, who had been eager to talk about it since they’d gone out earlier, while out of the corner of her eye Anne watched Kelsey do mock battle with an imagined enemy.

“You know, my little brother is much better at this stuff than I am, maybe you’d like to meet him sometime?” Though she’d posed the question to Craig, she didn’t bother to wait for an answer, as she saw Kelsey perform another made up sword move, and something occurred to her. “Hold that thought.”

Walking over to Kelsey, Anne continued to watch her form, confident enough based on where she was swinging and where her eyes were trained on that she had a pretty good idea of what the fake enemy the other girl was fighting might look like. Eventually she offered,

“You’re pretty good, but if you’re fighting something that much bigger than you, you’re gonna want to switch up your strategy a little bit.”

Without waiting for Kelsey’s reaction Anne grabbed a stick off the ground and performed a demonstration of a few moves she’d picked up in Amphibia. Though sword fighting was never something she had expected to be proficient at, she couldn’t deny that at this point she’d picked up a decent amount of skill. Once she’d finished her quick combo demonstration she turned to where Kelsey was standing, a little surprised to see a look of pure awe on the younger girl’s face, before she shouted,

“YOU KNOW HOW TO USE A REAL SWORD??????”

Anne grinned sheepishly at her excitement. “Uhhh, yeah, a little bit I guess?”

She’d barely gotten the words out before Kesley was on her, begging her to show more moves or better yet, spar with her. Anne waited for the tirade of excitement to slow down before smiling and offering,

“Sure I guess I could, but honestly my little sis knows way more about this fighting stuff than I do. If you want someone to practice with she’s your best bet. I could bring her out here some time, if you’d like.”

Kelsey’s excited nodding was interrupted by an instrument Anne couldn’t quite place, and suddenly the smaller girl’s shoulders fell in disappointment, before immediately perking back up again.

“That’s dinner, but you can bring her tomorrow! I’ll see you then!”

She waved goodbye as she rushed off, as did J.P. though with considerably less rushing, leaving just Anne and Craig, who seemed to also be on his way out. Anne figured that was just one more of the natural ways of the creek. As he left, though, Craig paused for a moment.

“I’m not sure where your special place was, but this is a pretty good one for a lot of kids here. I hope you had fun, I know we did. See you around Anne?”

Anne could tell the last bit was phrased as a question, and she paused to think, if only for a moment. Sure this was no Amphibia, and sure a lot of the stuff that had happened since Craig had tumbled out of those bushes was pretty weird. And maybe she did feel a little guilty that she was off playing around while her friends in Amphibia were, well... But still, for the first time since her birthday, Anne had gone one day where she actually felt like the 13 year old kid she was. Sooner or later she could blow their minds with magic powers and frog siblings, but for now, she was just Anne, she was just a kid. She gave a grateful smile.

“See you around, Craig of the Creek.”

[tchallasbabymama]

Potential Breakup Fic

Yes, this is inspired by the re-release of the classic “Potential Breakup Song” by legends Aly & AJ. Check out the rest of my Masterlist HERE. Enjoy!

Word count: 2223

CW: Niggas aint shit. Kiana sat on her couch and tried not to cry into her glass of merlot. She took off her heels and got up to unzip her dress and take off her bra since she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. She checked her phone again and was met with an empty screen. No notifications, no missed calls. She threw her phone down in anger, and was thankful when she noticed the screen didn’t crack.

“I can't believe this nigga.”

She looked at the clock and shook her head. It was 12:07am, and her 25th birthday was officially over without so much as a word from her boyfriend. Just last night he had told her to be ready by 7, and she hadn't heard from him since.

They had been together, on and off, for three years. They met their junior year at Howard, but didn’t hit it off right away. He was too slick for her liking, but over time he eventually weaseled his way into her heart. His smile lit up the whole room and his big brown eyes could seduce anyone just like that. And he did, constantly. T’Challa was a huge flirt, and it was cute when they were still single and just getting to know each other, but even now T’Challa turns his charm on for every pretty face he sees. Kiana had brought it up to him many times, letting him know how disrespected she felt. He would always say the same thing.

“But entle, I’m just being nice. You know I only have eyes for you.”

She did know that once, but that ended about a year and a half ago when she was casually scrolling through twitter on his phone and caught him cheating.

“T’Challa!”

“Yes, my love?”

“What the fuck is this?!”

“Why are you on my phone?!”

“Don't fucking raise your voice at me, I’m not in the wrong here. I saw a funny tweet and started scrolling when YOU got a text from some bitch named Jasmine talking bout ‘I miss you daddy’ and sending you pictures of her pussy. Care to explain?”

He reached for the phone and she pulled it away from him.

“Nah-uh, talk.”

He sighed in exasperation. 

“If you give me the phone I can explain, sithan-”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me, answer the goddamn question. How long, T’Challa?!”

“Just once. Eh, one and a half maybe-”

He was interrupted by a throw pillow to the head.

“How the fuck do you halfway cheat nigga?!”

“She just gave me head the first ti-”

“That’s still cheating!”

“Will you lower your voice? You have neighbors.”

“Fuck! Them! Did you even use a condom?”

“Yes, Kiana I’m not-”

“Stupid? You’re not stupid?” Kiana laughed. “Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“My love, I-”

“Oh now I’m your love? Where the fuck was that energy when you were balls deep in this other bitch?!”

T’Challa stood there dumbstruck. He had never seen Kiana get this angry and didn’t know what to say. He knew he was wrong when he did it, but seeing the tears streaming down her face made him truly regret what he’d done. She had been so busy with school and work that she barely had time for him anymore. He had needs and just so happened to stumble upon someone more than willing to fulfil them. 

He cursed himself for not locking his phone or at the very least, turning it over. 

“How many, T’Challa...” Kiana sniffled.

“I told you, it was only twice-”

“How many women?!”

He froze, not knowing if he should mention Lisa since that was so much earlier in their relationship.

“Oh my god...oh my god...oh my- are you fucking serious?! I-I have to...I have to go get tested, I-”

“Kia-”

“What?!”

She looked at him with such fierceness that he shrunk under her gaze.

“I-I am sorry, I didn’t do it to hurt you, I was-”

He was stopped by a heavy-handed slap across his cheek that nearly knocked him over.

“Get the fuck out.” She said, barely above a whisper.

Six months later they ran into each other in the grocery store and decided to catch up over a cup of coffee. Kiana had healed and moved on, but T’Challa was still stuck on her. They had spent almost two good years together before he ruined what they had, and he just couldn’t let it go. He loved her, and he was determined to make it work this time.

Or so he really, truly thought before he met Marci...and Tanisha...

T’Challa knew he wasn’t a one-woman man, but he just couldn’t let Kiana go. His dalliances were never serious, just enough to scratch his constant itching. Sometimes they were a one-time thing, but others stuck around if they were good enough and knew how to be discreet. No matter what though, he always came back home to Kiana because despite his trash behavior, he really did love her in his own toxic way.

However, he didn’t love her enough to double check his calendar before leaving work on her birthday, or any day leading up to it. He had forgotten what day it was, and when he told Kiana to be ready at 7 he just meant for a regular date night. 

It had been a long day at the Wakandan Embassy and Kiana’s Prince Charming needed a drink more than anything. He stopped at the first bar he came across that looked halfway decent. T’Challa walked up to the bar and caught the eye of the beautiful barkeep.

“Hiya, what can I do for you?”

T’Challa smiled his panty-dropping smile and she smiled back, revealing her perfect, white teeth. There was nothing he loved more than a pretty smile.

“Well, miss…”

“Tanisha,” she responded while using both arms to mix a shaker full of liquid courage and ice. His eyes avoided her chest, slyly watching in the periphery only. 

“Well, Miss Tanisha, I had a horrible day at work and I am in need of a whiskey on the rocks. Preferably Jack, but truly anything will do.”

“We all have those days honey. Here’s a double on the house,” she said as she slid the drink to him across the bar top with a wink.

T’Challa licked his lips and lifted his glass to her before taking a sip of the warm amber liquid. He let out a sigh and his day seemed to melt away. 

Tanisha kept coming back to check on him and they would chat when the crowd died down. T’Challa was on his third double when she came over with a plate of wings.

“You’re an angel.” He dug into the wings and made a complete mess on his shirt, so he went to the bathroom to try to wash the stain out. On his way back to the bar he noticed a very tall and sweaty man leaning over the bar trying to talk to Tanisha. From what he could see, she wasn’t feeling the conversation, but he kept approaching her anyway. When T’Challa returned to his seat she immediately gravitated towards him. This angered Mr. Tall and Sweaty, who drunkenly attempted to punch T’Challa in the face. T’Challa dodged the lazy punch and knocked him out cold with one hit. Security saw the whole thing go down, and removed Tall and Sweaty from the building once he came to. 

“What you got planned for the night, handsome?”

“Nothing at all, why do you ask?”

“I get off at 9, wanna hang out?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good, now here’s a water.”

“Thank you, angel.”

By 10pm he was already halfway inside her, and when his phone started vibrating he was too wrapped up in her to think anything of it. Without looking he quieted the annoying sound and turned the phone off so he could focus on the task at hand.

Two and a half hours later, T’Challa was creeping out of Tanisha’s bed right as Kiana was sliding into hers. She had washed off all her makeup, but she didn’t have the emotional energy to tie up her hair. Normally she would wear one of T’Challa’s t-shirts, but she was too angry with him so she slept in a cute nighty she never wore. She admired herself in the mirror for half a second before bursting into tears and pulling the covers up to her head. She tried to stop crying, but the tears kept coming and she eventually gave herself a headache. How could he miss her birthday?

Kiana got up and threw on her plush maroon robe before she padded to the bathroom to grab some Advil. On the way she noticed her phone getting multiple notifications, the first of which was from her best friend Bebe.

“Have u seen this?! Sis, I’m so sorry. When we slashing his tires? Just 3 tho, this nigga needs to pay $$$.”

“What the fuck is she talking about?”

Kiana clicked the link and saw that it was Bebe’s cousin Darrell’s Instagram Story. Apparently there was a fight at the bar where he was celebrating a coworker’s promotion and he had filmed it for all of Instagram to see. Kayla stared at her phone in shock. There was her aint-shit boyfriend at a goddamn bar on her fucking birthday. She watched him punch a guy in the face on her birthday. At a bar. Without her.

She thought the kicker came when she saw him turn around and flirt with the bartender, but the story after that just about killed her. There he was, leading her out the back door with his hand too far down on her lower back to be simply platonic. Even the caption read “Ooooh someone’s about to get some ‘thank you’ pussy. That damsel in distress pussy hit different!”

Kiana saw red and almost cracked her phone for a second time tonight. 

She grabbed the remaining merlot and downed it before throwing the bottle at the picture of them on the fridge. She watched the glass shatter and cut their faces while the trace bit of deep red wine seeped down the picture like blood. She wanted to trash the whole place, but remembered she would have to clean it later. Kiana started to hyperventilate and felt like she needed to get some air when she heard the lock turn.

“Kiki, what are you doin- are you ok? What happened here?”

Kiana ignored him as she walked towards where she threw her phone, silently pulling up the story and handing it to him. She watched his face go from confused, to shocked, to fearful. No regret, though. 

“Ki-”

“Give me your key.”

“Kiana, please let me-”

“The key. Now,” she said with her voice completely devoid of any emotion.

T’Challa assumed she would be angry and yell or throw things, but this quiet storm terrified him. To him, it felt like she didn’t even care anymore. He was right.

He slowly reached his hand out and she snatched the key ring, removing hers and tossing the rest back to him.

“I’ll have your stuff packed by the morning. It’ll be outside my door by 8am. If it’s still there when I get back from work it’s going in the trash.”

T’Challa couldn’t bear the coldness in her voice. Tears rolled down his face and his knees buckled.

“Kiana, please. I can explain, I didn-”

“I don't give a fuck what you did or didnt do. You know why?”

“W-why?”

“Because it was my birthday, T’Challa. MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY and YOU forgot it. Not only did you forget it, my gift was you fucking some other bitch and leaving me lonely yet again. So no, I don't care if you fucked her or not even though I know your sorry ass did. I know she’s probably not the only one because I saw how easily you slid on in there in that video. You were way too comfortable, so I don't even want to ask you how many because it doesnt fucking matter anymore. Now you can stick your dick in every fine ass Black girl you see without remorse, oh wait...you were already doing that. So fuck you, get out my apartment before I call my brothers.”

“Kiana…”

“5, 4, 3,...” Kiana counted as she dialed her eldest brother Trey’s number, ignoring T'Challa's pathetic excuses. “2, 1… Hey Trey, I’m sorry did I wake you up?...Yeah I have a situat- oh look at that, his bitch ass is leaving-”

“I am sorry, Kiana,” T’Challa said one last time before she slammed the door in his face. He could hear her on the other side of the door explaining the situation to her brother, and when she started to cry it finally hit him. Her wails broke his spirit and more tears fell from his eyes. 

He knew Trey would be over soon to comfort his baby sister and he needed to get the hell out of dodge, so T’Challa left Kiana’s apartment and never came back. Not even for his things, which turned out to be the best thing for Kiana because she and her girls got to burn it all up in Trey’s backyard fire pit and finally release that toxic man from her life.

[popculturebuffet]

Amphibia Reviews: The First Temple or Bessie and Joe: The New OTP

Hello all you happy people! Amphibia season 2 moves right a long and it’s time for some video game shenanigans as we enter The First Temple! Family drama, snail on bird action, and outhouses await you under the cut with a recap/review with full spoilers. 

So we open with the Plantars having chocopillbug pancakes. Ironically my mom offered me chocolate chip pancakes after this and thank god for that. This is a rare treat to the point Anne didn’t even know they had choclate, and is suprisingly not strangling Hop Pop over this. Unsuprisingly he broke out the good stuff to try and make up for hiding the box and things are still VERY awkward between the two, with Hop Pop walking on Egghshells around Anne and Anne doing the same when he brings it up with both desperatley trying to avoid the subject and Sprig not helping by bringing it up a bunch. 

I like this a lot and didn’t really think about the series continuting any tension over his decision.. but should have. Partly because this is a modern animated show and most of this wonderful new wave of shows have a LOT of emotional nuance. ANd partly because this show dosen’t forget things even most nuanced shows forget: the fact the characters cause chaos and learn life lesons is outright RECOGNZIED by the show as a pattern and brought up quite often, as are the patterns that lead to it, like mostly being sprig and anne, anne’s impulsivness that sort of thing. It’s the kind of thing you just gloss over in most shows but this one lampshades to hell and back for funsies so when something THIS important happens, you’d better belivie it’s not just going to disappear. 

The tensions thankfully broken by a new arrival, as a massive sparrow shows up in the yard. “It’s a giant bird with.. books on it’s back.. what. “ Great delivery from bill there. Naturally it’s Marcy! 

I missed this little goober. Such a joy to be around, and she of course marvels over the Plantar’s house before getting back on track: She’s found the first temple.. even though she sent a letter saying that and it’s not commented on that she did. It set off the whole previous episode Marcy... you okay Mar-Mar?

That aside though it’s time for the first temple and Marcy asks for the Box, with Sprig trying to make a joke about how good thing she didn’t ask for it a week ago. 

Polly rightly punches him in the ribs... do frogs have ribs? Hold on.. okay here we go

Huh.. so they do not You learn something new every day. Well lack of ribs or no our heroes are ready.. while Marcy’s sparrow Joe is also ready TO GET IT ON. Yes really, he does a mating dance for Bessie, complete with an intersumental version of “Sylvia” from last season. God damn that bird’s got game. The only time i’ve seen more game is THIS. 

 Marcy tells him to knock it off. Look marcy your a pet owner now and as a pet owner, it’s your responsiblity.. to let your giant bird do horrifying things with a slightly smaller but still giant snail. it’s what nature intended. Nature was doing a lot of cocaine that day but we still honor her wishes. 

But anyways Marcy’s figure out something intresting about the box.. by winding it just right the gems pop out, which allows her to take one, we later find out it’s the green one, to use in the temple. So off we go with Marcy and the rest of the kids up top and Hop Pop.. screaming in Joe Sparrows claws. He’s fine. 

So while they get ready, Anne worries about the amount of puzzles and hazzards Marcy’s hyping for this but Marcy shurgs it off and gives her own big boast about how may RTS she’s beaten.. suspciously like Yuaan as one post on here pointed out. Not a huge suprise though, to Marcy she’d just be the grand hero out of one of her rpg’s and not think of how many people she probably killed or who she’s working for.. though you’d THNK given all the RPG’s both tapetop and on her switch she’s played, that Marcy would see that “the benevolent king turns out to be the big bad” trope coming. 

But Anne’s worry is not on the big bad of the show but on Marcy who has a tendency to get so in the zone she ignores the world around her, which goes from focusing on her game while helping anne get softserve leading to a mess, not letting Anne down in a play and.. Anne catching Marcy on tv as all the snakes escape from the zoo. 

Regardless our heroes arrive and while the awkwardness between anne and hop pop continues, they find a majestic temple.. and what appears to be an outhouse. Hey we all gotta poop sometimes, even people making a majestic temple.  If you don’t it comes out like this. 

So they head in and we get our first puzzle, a mysterious cube that lifts you into the air and allows you to tilt the thing around. 

Those of you wondering why I have such a strong reaction have ever never played breath of the wild or played it with a pro controller, i.e. NOT having to tilt the very thing your screen is on because Nintendo has failed to grasp that MAYBE people don’t like that, that it takes you out of the experince and that it’s really hard to focus on your screen while having to move the fucking system about. And the plantar’s getting horribly jostled around as she moves it is EXACTLY how it feels to play a puzzle requring that shit. 

Next is a color based tile dungeon leftover from Link’s Awakening DX. As marcy figures out the reds do fire and the blues do crushing... but she reads the language (And as she put earlier “Guess who learned an entire dead language?” God she’s precious. ) and finds a green with envy pun (Which Hop Pop takes offense to.. several of his friends are green.). Which is curious as given several citzens of amphibia are green.. why would they make a green pun? So she gets on one tile and Hop Pop plans to take the risk of getting on the other green tile, but Anne does it instead.. and things get heated between the two as Anne reveals she no longe feels like family since he did what he did for polly and sprig and hop pop takes offense as she IS. Even if he screwed up with her. But Anne’s near death experince activates the tile. 

The final challnge switches us from Zelda.. to Harry Freaking Potter. 

Now I used to love Harry Potter, with all of my heart. Then JK Rowling turned out to be a transphobic piece of shit who thinks she’s an ally, but is really a bigot who wants to “accept” trans people without giving them any rights. So yeah while I still love the starkid musicals, ore more accuratley the music from them, and own a copy of lego harry potter I got as a gift recently as both parties had no idea she was a monster when this stuff was made. Still a sore subject though, but if I didn’t bring up the similiarties I wouldn’t be doing my job as a critic and this was likely thought up long before JK outed herself as well...

No no the great mighty poo respects all peoples.. and wants to take their heads and ram it up his butt. He’s an equal opportunity butt rammer. 

Anyways this is the frog equivlent of chess flipfrog, and just like with Wizard chess, our heroes end up as the pieces minus marcy.. and in a nice twist on that scene, Anne ends up on the other side. Marcy is a grandmaster at it though so after an hour or so of play she almost wins.. only for the king equilvent to refuse to be taken and the automatic board she’s up against to send Anne against hop pop, and with our heroes magically restrained and given stone weapons, this can’t end well. Eventually though Anne’s forced to hit HOp Pop multiple times and while he says “well isn’t this what you wanted”, she says no.. she didn’t want to phsyically hurt him it’s just complicated. So we get one heck of an emotioinal scene as Hop Pop just wants to help and wants this to stop and dosen’t knoow how to fix this which as someone who desperatlyt ries to fix most emotional situations right away this hit very hard.. and her response of needing time hit harder. The two while not reconciled, ar ecloser to it and Marcy realizes what she’s done getting so obessed with winning and forfits for thier benifit. Our heroes leave, seemingly having lost.. only to find glowing arrows to the crap hole, which turns out to be the pedistal. The temple wasn’t just an intellegence test but empathy.. and the temples are clearly built to specifically test each of the chosen three, our heroines, specifically. Marcy’s tested her intellegence.. but also her willingness to let go of cold clyincal thought to do the right thing. That earns her her gem recharged and a flash in her eyes and her gem starts pointing to the next. She needs time to triangulate and hop pop and anne are back on workable footing... though our heroes offer to take a break instead of going to the next temple. 

Back in Newtopia, Yuaan reports on the toads gathering.. but dosen’t get to mentioning sasha before Marcy’s letter interrupts and Andridas oddly and aburbly dimisses her.. and goes to talk to a watcher with a thousand eyes, his “master” who has plans to undo the prophcey and get their revenge. 

Final Thoughts: This was a damn fine episode that gave Marcy some much needed character development, and gave the reveals of last episode some more emotiional fallout.  It also had some really great jokes as always. Top notch stuf. 

Next Time: Marcy tries to win everyone over through science and we FINALLY get an episode with the Frog Robot apparently. Horay

Next on this Blog: We go into final space yo! It’s unexpected births, ho yay, and horrifying zombie gary’s galore! 

Until then if you liked this review, follow me for more, join my patreon, comission a review if you please and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. Play us out jeff... and I haven’t done THAT bit in a while but eh. This song was too perfect. 

[abduct-me-helen]

Class 108′s Apocalypse Field Trip | Chapter 5.

“Marcy’s alive?” Jon asked incredulously, eyes wide in surprise. Martin stood next to him, and their height different was apparently “adorable,” or so class 108 had said.

“That’s what Annabelle told me.” Martin replied, thinking back to the conversation and searching for details in the way that she’d sounded. He knew he was dealing with the Web though; Annabelle was nothing if not manipulative and direct in both her overt and subtle actions.

“On the phone.” Jon raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“That’s where we talked, yeah.” Martin confirmed, his tone shifting as he looked behind them to see Elliot and Raphi snogging while the others, (minus Riko and Katie), chanted “make out! Make out!” over and over again.

Nope, he was not getting into that.

“How? Why is Annabelle keeping her alive?” Jon asked, pointedly ignoring what was going on behind them.

“She’s not, or at least that’s what she said. She thinks it has something to do with the End.” Martin told him wearily.

“That’s lucky for us.” Jon said.

“Why?”

“We’re coming upon the Corpse Roots soon enough.”

Martin perked up. “Are we going to, you know, go kill bill?”

Jon hesitated.

“Jon.”

“I don’t know, Martin. It’s-Oliver Banks rules over this domain.” He explained, gesturing wildly.

“So?” Martin questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I, I just don’t think…I don’t think he’s evil.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s a very benevolent ruler of a hellish fear prison.” Martin replied sarcastically.

“It’s just-he helped me. Wh-when I was,” Jon sighed, running his hand through his hair and taking a second to pause, “He woke me up.”

“Wow, what a hero.” Martin deadpanned.

“Martin?” Jon asked, amused and raising an eyebrow.

“What.” Martin said shortly. Jon made an amused noise, an all-too-knowing smile beginning to grow on his face.

“Yeah, alright; I know; I’m sorry.” Martin apologized quickly, sighing.

Jon was now smirking, voice full of amusement. “…Is there something you want to talk about?”

No, I’m-fine; it’s fine; everything’s fine! I’m sorry.” Martin said quickly, ducking away and speeding up his footsteps. Jon did the same to match him, a smug grin on his face.

“Martin…” His expression was like the cat getting the cream.

“I said it’s fine.” Martin snapped quickly.

“Are you jealous?” Jon questioned, oh so audibly smug.

“Yeah, Martin, are you jealous?” Raphi yelled, pulling away quickly before snogging Elliot once again.”

“Oooh…” The class’s eyes lit up, their voices in unison, getting higher in pitch as their call of smugness continued. Turning away from the couple, they advanced towards the two men who led the head of their group. Cal clapped politely at Elliot and Raphi as they broke away to join the rest of his peers in taunting Martin.

“Just-just, hey, why is everyone ganging up on me!” Martin cried indignantly. Elliot smirked, before starting a chant.

“Mr. Sims and Martin, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love-” Elliot grinned as he spoke, before Cal cut him off quietly.

“-Then comes marriage-”

“Then comes a baby in a baby carriage!” Tabitha finished, grinning with a smug glee.

-

“Don’t they have anything better to do then gossip about our teacher’s love life?” Riko scoffed, trailing behind the rest of the class with Katie at her right.

“…probably not.” Katie answered dully, looking on with something akin to judgmental fondness, as much as that could be expressed on someone who was as reigned in as her.

“…that’s fair.”

-

“I told you not to Know things about me!” Martin pointed at Jon, telling him off.

Jon laughed. “I really didn’t have to.”

“I-y-you-good. ‘Cause I’m definitely not.” Martin said stubbornly, looking ahead in defiance.

“Sure.” “Pfft, that’s such a lie-” “Are you scared he’s gonna steal yo’ man?” “PUT A RING ON IT MARTO!”

“Alright!” Jon agreed smugly, obviously taunting Martin.

“Look, I’m fine, alright?” Martin told him forcefully.

“You said.” Jon agreed, nodding with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, I did! And e-and even if I was jealous, I would be perfectly justified anyway, so!” Martin explained quickly, refusing to look Jon in the eye.

Class 108 was snickering, and Martin decidedly didn’t comment on that.

Respect your elders! he wanted to tell them. But he couldn’t control them, no matter how much he wanted to. They were teens.

Teens.

He sighed inwardly, mentally banging his head against a wall.

“But you’re not.” The fact that Jon’s amusement was almost tangible is one that Martin loathed.

“No! I’m fine.” Martin exclaimed.

“Hey, give him a break. I say murder is a go.” Elliot coos, and Cal laughs quietly behind him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Rosie said, laughing.

“Riko agrees with me. Hey! Riko! You agree, don’t you?” Elliot raised his voice, gaining Riko’s attention.

“Oh, I’m not getting involved.” She told him, raising her eyebrow.

“Pfft, boring.” He said, sighing dramatically.

“Tch.”

“Look. Martin, I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m not going to kill a man just because you’re jealous.” Jon and Martin continued to argue, both attempting, (and failing), to tune out class 108’s jeers.

“Why not?!”

Beat.

Martin deflated. “Yeah. Yeah, I know, I know, I know.” He sighed, before pausing. “Please?”

Jon laughed and Martin’s lip quirked upwards.

“Let’s go apeshit! Let’s go fucking apeshit!” Tabitha screeched, pumping her fist into the air.

“Language.” Jon chastised, heart not in it.

Tabitha stuck her tongue out.

-

Cypress felt…strange. It was the only way to put it. The corpse roots were comforting, in their own way, and he looked on with a fondness that should have surprised him.

It didn’t.

He knew what the End was now, but he still thought of it as death more than anything else. And he found peace in that.

Or maybe it was the depression talking.

He didn’t really care.

But he was pulled in, interested and feeling an odd, almost tugging need to do something. He had no idea what that something was, but he knew he’d find out soon.

“-know, but I just, I need to. I can be ignorant when all of this is going on!” Tabitha said loudly, surprising Cypress out of his reverie. He turned, and saw that she was talking to Mr. Sims.

“Statements…Tabitha, they change you. I’m not sure-”

Ah, so this was what they were arguing over. Cypress had been worried too. Tabitha’s hunger for knowledge was not knew, but the desperation to get it certainly way.

Or maybe not. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it had always been there it to an extent.

“Please,” she begged, voice rising, “I just-I need to know. This world, it’s…it’s terrible. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“You really think this will change anything?” Riko shot back acerbically.

“No, but it’ll make me feel better, so piss off.” Tabitha snapped, then sighed. “Sorry Riko.” She apologized.

Riko rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

Jon sighed. “Fine. Okay. You can listen.” Martin raised an eyebrow, and he shook his head. Tabitha cheered.

Cypress stepped closer. “I,” he paused, looking around before finalizing his thoughts, “I want to listen too.”

Jon was once again taken aback. “Why?” he said, incredulous.

Cypress shrugged. “I don’t know. I just,” he sighed, “I have my reasons, okay?”

Jon nodded slowly, sighing and motioning Martin to leave with the rest of the class, who looked on concernedly.

He waited a moment before he furrowed his brows and talked once again, looking up at the two students. “Once I start, I can’t stop. But if you get uncomfortable, at all, please leave. I won’t think worse of you or take offense. Agreed?”

Tabitha and Cypress nodded, but they both knew they’d stay, no matter how horrible it was. Jon sighed, and began the statement.

Report to prevent future deaths. This report is being sent to:   The Great Eye that watches all who linger in terror and gorges itself on the sufferings of those under its unrelenting, stuporous gaze. And its Archive, which draws knowledge of this suffering unto itself.

One: Coroner.

I am Oliver Banks, sometimes known as Antonio Blake or Dr Thomas Pritchard. I serve The Coming End That Waits for All and Will Not Be Ignored.

Two: Coroner’s legal powers.

I make this report under no authority; no regulation or act of law save the hollow power and grim responsibility given me by the Termination of All Life. With it, I may see and spread the hidden veins of destiny that wrap us close and draw us through the empty, yearning parody of meaning that we call life, knowing at all stages that the last and final point of this journey is a blank and futile end.

I have no power to stop it, and even if I did, I would not do so. For to rob a soul of death is as torturous as its inevitable coming.

Three: Investigation and inquest.

On the first and last day of the age of the Beholding, I begin my vigil into the story of Cypress Evans.”

Cypress and Tabitha looked up, eyes wide.

“What?” They said in unison, before refocusing once again.

He was about thirteen when it happened. Or, rather, he happened. The tendrils of the lonely had clung to him, but that is not the focus of my tale. No, I suppose I’ll be blunt.

Cypress Evans killed himself.

Cypress grit his teeth, and Jon’s eyes were wide. Tabitha tried to get up, despite her curiosity, in order to preserve his privacy, but felt tied down to the roots like a string.

Cypress did the same, not wanting to remember the tale that was spilling from Jon’s mouth.

It wasn’t dramatic. He didn’t write a note, but in the days before his first ending he gave many gifts to those he cared about. Gifts that were his belongings.

He even wrote a small will, though it wasn’t as if it was anything official. He was thirteen; he didn’t have much property of his own.

But that is not the important part. What is important, is that he succeeded. Cypress Evans was officially dead for about five hours. No one found out.

Tabitha inhaled quickly, and this was not unnoticed by Cypress, who looked down in shame. She took his hand and gripped it while she maneuvered him to rest next to her, huddled into a ball while he shook.

Because he woke up.

Her eyes widened once again, glancing at him in shock.

His arm was knitted back together by some sort of thin, clear thread. And he was alive.

He didn’t tell a soul.

It was about two months later when he tried again, a different method this time. He tried pills. So many pills. A lot of pills.

And so, Cypress Evans died for the seemingly second time. And for the seemingly second time, he came back.

He looked away. Tabitha could guess that he thought it was a failure on his part, but she was glad that it hadn’t worked.

And worried for him.

How had she not known? Did she not pay enough attention?

She bit her lip in thought.

He is one of many thousands, neither remarkable nor unique in his background and goals. He has spent the last three of those years acutely aware of his seemingly immortal state of being and in constant dismay over it. The thing was, Cypress never feared death.

He craved it.

And it was being denied from him, one time, then two, then three, then four, then five, and so it goes on. At some point, it became recreational, to not be anything at all. To end, even if temporarily.

Cypress clenched his fist, and Tabitha squeezed his other hand.

Do not worry, Cypress. I’m certain you’re listening to this, though I’m not sure why I’m aware of that face. That thought was not my own, and I’m acutely aware of a spider crawling down my arm, so I can only assume one of the Web’s ilk is involved with this. Never the matter, I wanted to tell you this. No matter how immortal you may think you are, all things end, even if it takes a very, very long time.

You can be reassured that one day, you will die.

Tabitha hated the look of relief that washed over him, but shivered at the thought of being manipulated. The Web, above all others, irked her, ever since her experience with Marcy.

Back to my account.

Cypress, now sixteen years of age, if not for the odd situation regarding class 108, I believe he would’ve found himself within my domain, traveling slowly and unremittingly along the length of the stretching Corpse Routes.

And to his delight, eventually ending.

The earliest he can remember being certain he was about to die was when, at the age of six, due to allergies, he passed out. It was from a spider bite. Not a poisonous one, mind you. It was just his allergies, putting him in the hospital for a few hours.

The oddest thing though, was that he didn’t mind. Cypress had already accepted the inevitability of death, with his father passing away from cancer about two years prior to the bite. He found it reassuring, relaxing even.

The point was, Cypress was comforted by death.

And so it continued for the next three years of his life. He would die on the weekends, crave the release of not existing as a reward for doing so during the week. He always came back, groggily and painfully.

He never liked that part.

Five: Coroner’s concerns.

The matters of concern are as follows:

a) Cypress Evans was affected by the Web at some point during his life. I do not know what the reason for that is, but it’s a concern nonetheless. I do not know why Cypress does not walk the corpse roots, just as I do not know why class 108 seems to have been spared from the domains. I, again, suspect the Web to have something to do with this.

b) This place is a limit on the fear that can be generated from them, as their pool is necessarily finite and ultimately, however slowly, it will be exhausted.

To be offset, this consideration will require the acquisition of victims from other domains as replacements, potentially inciting…bad feeling between those domains.

c) A metaphysical quirk of this new reality’s divorce from the traditional concept of time, and - one for which I have no further explanation, means that I do not believe new humans are being created or born.

The souls trapped within this transformed world are the only ones who will ever be here, and the presence of the Termination of All requires that-ultimately, that is what will happen.

However slowly, the domains of death will be removing sufferers from a closed system. However many thousands of years may be experienced in time, eventually this world will be left barren and empty.

d) When this happens, the Great Powers themselves will also fade and die, withering away into nothingness and releasing this reality from their grip.

I… do not know how I feel about this.

Six: Actions that should be taken.

None. Even if such a fate could be avoided, as it comes closer and the other Entities grow in their awareness of their own end, the grotesque ripples of their own impossible panic shall glut and feed my master, gorging it to the point where-perhaps it will even surpass the Watcher in prominence.

Barring that, I have no desire to be destroyed by other Avatars who are upset at what they regard as “stealing” human souls to walk the Corpse Routes. If it becomes necessary to intervene at some point regarding whatever web the weaver is puppeting, I will do so.

The others may take what actions they wish; they may plot and plan and tear themselves apart in an attempt to separate from the fate that they know they cannot escape, but they will fail. The currents of perception and reality may twist in whatever shapes they want, but none of them can ever render things truly eternal.

And I shall help, ushering on this final, blank emptiness. Perhaps once it might have horrified me, or given me some sense of pursuing the ultimate release of the world that you have damned.

But I am too much of my Patron now, and my feelings cannot help but reflect the shadows of… anticipation that lurk within the grave. The End does not fear its own cessation, for it is the certainty and promise of all life, however strange, that it will one day finish, and that includes its own stark existence.

It shall be the last, and when the universe is silent and still forever, it shall, perhaps, in that impossible moment before it vanishes, finally be satisfied.

Seven: Your response.

Please, Jon, do not interpret this report as a plea for mercy or a call to action. I would have offered it willingly, of course, but to do so is no longer an option.

I only ask that you be wary. I do not know what, but I believe the Web is up to something. Bar that, I believe it to be controlling even you in a world where you wear the crown.

Finally, Cypress, know this. All things end, and every step you take, whatever direction you may choose, only brings you closer to it.

I’m sure that brings you comfort.

Report ends.

Jon looked up, eyes widening as he regained control.

Cypress bolted.

-

“What the fuck happened?” Riko asked, sitting down across from Tabitha, gesturing to Cypress, who was in a clearing alone. Cal was sitting next to him but they didn’t appear to be talking.

Tabitha shook her head mutely, sighing. “It’s-I’m not going to intrude on his privacy. It was just-it was just intense.” She gestured.

Riko shrugged. “He isn’t dead. It’ll be fine.”

Tabitha knew that Riko was trying to comfort her, but those words made her bark out a bitter laugh.

Riko raised an eyebrow.

Tabitha sighed. “Look, basically the statement Mr. Sims gave was about Cypress, and for some reason Cypress and I couldn’t leave.”

“Wait, like you were tied down?” Riko asked incredulously.

“No, like…ugh. I don’t know how to put it. Yes, like we were tied down, but it was…more than that.”

“Oh, that’s revealing.” Riko said sarcastically.

“Hm.” Tabitha agreed, before looking behind her to see Jon approaching. He walked up the green hill before sighing, and running his hand through his hair.

He does that a lot, Tabitha thought absently.

“May I speak to you in private?” Jon asked Tabitha, who nodded. Riko didn’t budge, and raised an eyebrow.

“I was here first.”

Tabitha snickered. “Fair.”

Jon followed her until they came to a spot next to a tree, leaves waxy and tinted with the green light of the sky.

“So,” Jon awkwardly began, “I think it would be best if you didn’t discuss Cypress’…condition with anyone else. I know you wouldn’t,” he added, “I just wanted to make sure.”

Tabitha nodded. “No, totally, I get it.”

Jon nodded gratefully. “Do you think he’d benefit from talking to Martin or I?”

Tabitha tilted her head in thought. “Not really. He seems like the kind of person to wear his heart on his sleeve, but…I don’t think he likes to be vulnerable with people. Cal seems to have it covered already though.” She pointed across the clearing to where Cal and Cypress were silently sitting side by side against the trunk of a thick hickory tree.

God, she hoped it was a hickory tree. While watching her friends get chased around by a living tree-monster thing was funny, it was also terrifying.

“That checks out. Well, that’s all I wanted to speak with you about.” His eyes seemed to glaze over familiarly, though Tabitha couldn’t quite place where she’d seen that look.

Tabitha nodded warily as he got up and walked towards Martin, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

-

[snezfics-n-shit]

Whumptober Day 9: Belly Ache

Fandom: Ace Attorney 

Characters: Dick Gumshoe, Maggey Byrde, Miles Edgeworth

Notes: Who wants Gumshoe? I just made a fresh pot of Gumshoe! Sick!Gumshoe is tasked with training Maggey in an investigation. He says nothing because he doesn’t want to complain (or “bellyache” as per the prompt). Gumshoe and Maggey have Big Marcie Energy and that gives Edgeworth a headache. 99% sure Gumshoe has a canon Dad Sneeze™ (just typing the spellings made me jump out of my seat a few times).

    Gumshoe’s thoughts were split into halves similar to a cartoon angel and devil residing on his shoulders. In any other context, he would follow the angel, no question. The angel was the good guy and he liked to think he sided with the good guys. This time, however, he wasn’t really sure which half was the angel and which was the devil. Both made some really good points.

‘You should go home and rest.’

‘Quit your bellyaching! You have a job to do!’

He stared at his reflection in the foggy public bathroom mirror. The contrast between most of his face drained of color and the bright pink on his cheeks and nostrils was telling. If he continued the investigation feeling as sick as he appeared, there was no telling how much worse off he would be by the time the team wrapped up, which could be up to ten hours from now. If he went home now, Maggey would probably get a new investigation partner, and he would be out of an opportunity to impress her with his seasoned skills as a detective. 

He could feel his stomach doing flips as he approached the door, still unsure of his plan of action. Maybe he should just throw it in the hands of Mr. Edgeworth; any recommendation from someone of that authority would be what he followed. In the back of his mind, Gumshoe prayed Mr. Edgeworth would tell him to go home as soon as he left the bathroom.

That was not how he was greeted, however. The crime scene being a park meant exiting the bathroom sent him directly outside. The biting January wind attacked his sinuses.

“Hh’hAARRSHHUHOOH!”

“What on Earth was that!?” Edgeworth’s voice hit an unnatural octave when he jolted. He needed to catch his breath before he turned his head to catch a glimpse of just who started. “Oh, Detective Gumshoe. Forgive me, and bless.”

“Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to startle you, sir.” Gumshoe sniffled wetly throughout his apology. “I didn’t keep you and Maggey waiting too long, did I?”

“No, not at all. Just, please, try not to send anyone’s heart out of their chest.” Edgeworth paused to check his pulse, probably in a poor attempt of a joke; it didn’t make Gumshoe feel much better. 

“Oh! Yes, sir! Of course, sir!” Gumshoe straightened up with a salute. He could keep this act up for another, what, ten hours, maybe? Just his luck, of course, that as soon as he assured himself that, a harsh cough escaped his system with no word of warning, startling Edgeworth again. “My bad, sir! Won’t happen again, sir!”

“Detective Gumshoe, sir?” Maggey added her own ‘sir’-ing. “Are you ready to investigate, sir?”

“Please, Detective.” The two were so alike it gave Edgeworth a minor headache. “Go on ahead.”

“Yes, sir!” The detective and officer responded in unison, Gumshoe’s voice sounding significantly more hoarse when paired with Maggey’s. They were so caught up in eagerness to investigate the crime scene, they failed to notice Edgeworth’s sigh of relief when he left to buy a hot beverage from a nearby cafe.

“So, Maggey,” Gumshoe sniffled, “what you’re gonna want to do first is, ah, hhh…”

“Is it on the tip of your tongue, sir? I hate when that happens.”

“Hhh’HAERSSSCHOOOH!” 

“Woah!” Maggey was more startled than Edgeworth was just a minute ago, sending her falling bottom-first in the shallow accumulated snow. “Bless you, sir.” She attempted an anxious smile.

“Thanks.” Gumshoe offered a hand to help Maggey up. “I hope I didn’t scare you too badly.”

“Oh, not at all.” She lied out of courtesy. At that moment, she finally had a chance to examine the pink-tinged regions of his sickly pale face as he pulled her off the ground. Figures; her first go at a crime scene investigation was being led by a mentor with a cold. “Um, Gumshoe, sir? Are you…?”

“Am I what?” Gumshoe requested she continue, ignoring her hesitation to say something she likely would be better off not mentioning.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah! I feel fine!”  It was almost as if Maggey’s misfortune gifted Gumshoe’s lungs the cue to trigger an extended fit of coughing. He tried to laugh it off, but Maggey’s look of concern was left unchanged.

“Maybe we should ask Mr. Edgeworth to, um,” Maggey pressed a hand to her lower lip, “let you go home? That is, if you don’t mind me suggesting, sir!”

“Oh, I don’t think he wants to hear me complaining.” 

“It’s not complaining to say you’re feeling sick.” She shook her head as she placed a firm hand on his forehead before quickly pulling away. “S-Sorry for invading your personal space, sir!” She stuttered. “But, um, you’re feeling kind of warm, too.”

“I dunno. Mr. Edgeworth is kind of…”

“‘Kind of’ what, Detective?” Now it was Edgeworth’s turn to startle Gumshoe and Maggey out of their skin. He paused to lift his disposable cup to his lips, displeased to find his tea was still too hot to drink. 

“Mr. Edgeworth, sir! I was just saying uh,” a fit of coughing bought Gumshoe some time, “you care a lot about gathering evidence, sir!” He was being honest, but his struggle to find just the right words made that sound like a fib.

“You are correct in that aspect.” Edgeworth blew lightly into the opening of the cup’s lid. “Maggey is also correct. I would hardly call you requesting to leave early ‘complaining.’ I would say it’s quite admirable to know your limits.” A lot of carefully constructed words to say ‘if you sneeze and make me spill my hot tea all over, you will never see a raise again,’ but hey, such is the job of a lawyer. Of course, here, ‘carefully constructed’ just meant only enough to be believed by those with a loyalty mirroring that of a golden retriever. If he spoke like that to anyone else, it would be obvious he was mostly full of it. 

“Is it really okay, sir?”

“Thank you so much, sir!” Maggey thanked Edgeworth on Gumshoe’s behalf.

“Yes, please,” Edgeworth nodded, “go on home. Both of you.” If only because Edgeworth reached his limit for both loud sneezing and being called ‘sir’ in such a short period of time.

“But I feel fine, sir. Can’t I stay?” Maggey questioned.

“As long as Detective Gumshoe is out with that cold, you’re out of an investigation mentor, Ms. Byrde. I can’t have you unsupervised so early in your career. My apologies.”

“Oh.” Maggey sighed. “I understand.” She looked at Gumshoe, recognizing a frown of guilt. She hid her disappointment behind a smile. “Hey, Gumshoe, sir? It’s okay, really. Just focus on getting better, sir.”

“You can-- HH’AARRSSHCHOOH! You can count on me!”

“Bless.” Edgeworth exhaled as he waited for his heart rate to slow down to normal. “Now, you two are dismissed for the rest of the week. Please return safely.”

“Yes, sir!”

[carol-effing-danvers]

where we grew up

this is part two of the series “run long, roam far, return soon” part one: “knock me the fuck out (i dare ya, babe)” (cont.) (fin.) part three: “push me, pull you” 

(click here if you’d prefer to read this in AO3′s format)

Steve assures her that he’s done all the right things, followed all the right procedures. He’s calm, he looks…not relaxed because no one could possibly be relaxed in this situation, but he looks like someone who is collected and has control of the situation.

But Robin knows him, and she can see in his eyes that some piece of him has quietly died – maybe not forever, but this day has wounded him deeply.

So, she tells him he’s got this and when their lunchbreak is over, she goes back to the high school building and immediately goes to the main office. Impatiently, she dials and waits for someone to answer, anxiously hugging herself with one arm.

“This is the 11th Hour,” El answers in her best ‘customer service’ voice. “I’m Jane. How can I help you today?”

“I need you…” Robin sighs, closes her eyes, and puts a hand over her face. “Is Hargrove there with you?”

“Yeah, Robbie, hold on.”

There’s a clattering in the background before Billy’s gruff tone says “Buckley. What’s up?”

“You…you need to pick up Steve from work, today.”

“Car break down? Didn’t sound like it was in bad shape, last I heard,” Billy observes cautiously.

“No, Billy,” she says with quiet pain. “He’s-he might be there late. But he’s going to need you, when it’s finished.”

“Okay, Rob, you need to back up here. What’s going on?”

“Steve had to call CPS, Billy,” she whispers, “One of his kids came in with belt marks all over him, and while the school nurse was looking him over, Steve brought his older sister up and started asking her some questions, and he and the nurse realized very quickly that someone has been beating her around, too.”

Billy’s stomach drops. “But they’re-they’re five year olds,” he says numbly. “Little kindergarteners…”

“Yeah.” It’s amazing how much pain and anguish can be packed into a single word. “They are.”

He is, at this very moment, imagining anyone attempting to do that to his sweet little Lulu and the blind fury that left him for so long suddenly comes back with a fiery vengeance. “What kind of monster beats a five year old with a belt?!”

But the thing is…he-he knows. He was raised by that same kind of monster – Neil Hargrove absolutely beat Billy with a belt, more than once throughout his childhood.  He has no idea how Robin is managing her side of this conversation so calmly.

“Their mom is an addict, and it seems she doesn’t pay a whole lot of attention to how her boyfriend treats her kids. Steve mentioned a couple of times throughout the year that he’d noticed both of them looking a little…unkept, but Rosie is a single mom and times are hard, so he gave her the benefit of a doubt,” Robin says grimly. “Turns out, they were looking unkept because the sister was the one trying to do the laundry and making sure they both got a bath and she wasn’t always so great at it. Not surprising, since she’s only nine.”

Swallowing past the sick feeling in his guts, Billy asks “Okay, so what do you need me to do?”

“I need you to be there when he lets himself freak out. He was acting super calm when I saw him because he has to finish class and wait with them until CPS can contact their aunt, but I’ve known him for a decade – the moment a child doesn’t need him, he’s gonna fucking lose it, Hargrove, and I know you’re the person he wants the most right now.”

Billy’s eyes go wide. “I’ll be there.”

“I know.”

Even with Robin's helpful warning, Billy doesn't really know what to expect when he walks down the Grade K hall. There are no children left in the classrooms here - school let out twenty minutes ago and these kids are too little for extracurricular activities.

He is expecting what he sees in Steve’s classroom least of all.

Steve and the other kindergarten teacher, Melanie Dohr, have rooms that mirror each other – boxy spaces slightly wider than they are long, with a doorway at one end that faces the children’s cubby stations, except that Melanie’s desk and chairs are to the left of the classroom door and Steve’s are to the right. At the very end of this room is a little sofa and an open space where they do story time and nap time and when he leans his head in to check on Steve, this is where he is sitting.

Squished right up against him on that sofa is a little girl with brown hair in two long braids. She’s a little girl, but she’s still too old to be someone Steve teaches. As Steve reads aloud, one arm around her, she listens intently as she leans into his side, a tissue clutched in her fist that she holds near her mouth as she silently cries. She’s heartbreaking and what’s worse – Billy actually recognizes her.

“Something that for lack of any other name might be called friendship existed and always had existed between Marilla Cuthbert and Mrs. Rachel, in spite of – or perhaps because of – their dissimilarity...”

This is Marcy Roberts, Martin’s big sister. He’s seen her many times, because Marcy walks her brother down to the kindergarten hall every morning before she goes back to Mrs. Webster in the third grade hall.

On their very first date, Billy had overheard Steve having a talk with Martin outside the classroom when he hit a classmate who called him names, and it reminded Billy so vividly of himself it was nearly painful. Of course Martin was the boy who’d taken a beating with a belt. He didn’t know why he hadn’t guessed it was Martin in the first place.

Silently, Billy makes his way into the room – he knows when Marcy spots him, because the fourth-grader immediately becomes tenser and tries to shrink into Steve’s side, her big blue eyes watching him wearily. Steve’s arm tightens around her, eyes briefly flicking upward before he serenely continues with his reading.

Old Billy would’ve been furious that Steve was deliberately choosing to ignore him – Old Billy was furious when Steve ignored him. New Billy slowly crept his way around to Steve’s desk while being watched by a little girl, settling back into the teacher’s chair and trying to look as innocent and nonthreatening as possible.

He wouldn’t consider himself a natural with kids, not like Steve was, and he’s definitely never had to interact with a child whose been treated…well, the way he’d been treated, he supposed. Lulu has never been afraid of him, but she also doesn’t really know any better. Uncle Billy is Uncle Billy, and he’s always been Uncle Billy in her eyes. And Justin is a worthless father, but he’s never actively tried to cause his daughter physical pain or mental anguish – though his complete disregard for her existence could hardly be called any better.

Steve is beloved by all of his students, of course, but for Marcy, he may literally be the only adult that she trusts. Marcy and Martin need him and that will hold his entire focus until they can be settled.

For a while, Billy wonders what happened to Martin, and then realizes that he probably had to stay in the nurse’s office. He knows from hard experience that sitting was likely painful and difficult at the moment if Martin got the belt. With any luck, the nurse has given him a light sedative, something to put him to sleep or even just make him a little more comfortable.

When Marcy’s focus is no longer dedicated to waiting for Billy to suddenly attack her, he takes the time to really look at her. Has she always been so small and thin? Is he only really noticing this now because he has some idea of what her home life is like? There’s a wrapping of gauze around her right forearm hinting that Marcy didn’t entirely escape the mercies laid upon Martin. Her hair – brown to her younger brother’s toe-headed blonde – is looking a bit unkempt and her clothes aren’t dirty but they are also certainly not new and Billy knows he wouldn’t have noticed any of this if Robin hadn’t already told him that their mother has been neglecting them.

But Steve had noticed.

Steve has been noticing, maybe the entire year, probably watching with helpless dismay as Marcy and Martin’s condition deteriorated right before his eyes as their home situation got more and more unhappy. Billy wonders what finally led him to the proof he needed to get CPS involved.

In hindsight, Billy now realizes that more than one of his own teachers had tried to get him to open up to them about the way Neil treated him at home, but he had been a scared and angry child and in early childhood, he hadn’t understood what they were asking for. And later on, he hadn’t trusted any adult enough to do that, until he’d become a sullen and violent teenager that everybody wanted to write off instead of an energetic and overeager child.

Marcy is still half hiding against Steve’s side, listening to him read – or maybe just letting the sound of his voice wash over her the way Billy is doing. Her hand is up near her face, fingers reflexively curling but she doesn’t actually put any of her fingers in her mouth. It’s not normal, is it, for a nine year old to still have the urge to suck her thumb?  

He loses track of time, letting the murmur of Steve’s voice soothe him into something like a doze, though his eyes are still open, when there is suddenly a knock on the classroom doorframe. A slim blonde woman with a briefcase wearing a navy blue pantsuit stood in the hall, standing beside a brunette woman with her hair cut into a short bob. “Hello, you must be Marcy!” the blonde says, just a little too bright to be entirely natural. “I’m Mrs. Rhodes, but you can call me Vicki.”

“Uh…okay,” Marcy says nervously, still glued to Steve’s side.

Steve gives Vicki a very charming smile – though now that Billy knows him so well, he can see that it’s a bit insincere. “Can I talk to Marcy for a just a second? Nurse Downing’s office is just down the hall and to the right if you’d like to check in on Martin. He might still be asleep, though.”

“Alright!” Vicki said, though the brunette looked like thrilled about this, she followed her back down the hall to the nurse’s office.

As soon as the woman’s footsteps had dwindled down the hall, Steve gave Marcy the worn down copy of Anne of Green Gables. “Keep that with you,” he tells her quietly. “It has my address and phone number inside. I think your Aunt Rachel will take good care of you, but if someone hurts you again, if you don’t feel safe, or if you just want to talk to me, call me, okay? Even if it’s really late at night, even if it’s not a school day, even if it’s the middle of summer, alright, Marcy? Any time you want to talk to me, call me. Alright?”

“Okay.” Marcy repeats, louder this time but with a wobble in her chin. She clutches the book to her chest like a shield, fingers tightening on the spine now that she knew the truth of its importance.

She surged forward, embracing Steve desperately, which he returns before plucking up her faded purple bookbag. “Let’s go find Mrs. Rhodes and Aunt Rachel. We’ll see how Martin is doing.”

---

The hand off was just as hard as he knew it would be. Martin was emotional and weepy, throwing something like tantrum – or Steve would’ve called it a tantrum if he didn’t know how scared and confused and traumatized he was – but Helen handled it pretty well and managed to calm him down. Marcy practically had a panic attack as they were leaving but Steve could almost see her reminding herself to be the responsible big sister.

Fuck.

Steve has to remind himself for the hundredth time that the state won’t let a single man with his history and his salary have one child, never mind two. No matter how much he loves them. No matter how torn up he is to watch them leave.

Rachel will do a good job, he tells himself firmly. Truthfully, Rachel couldn’t do much worse to them then her younger sister already had. Even after his gentle question of Marcy – something Vicki and Rachel will probably follow up on in more depth later – Steve isn’t exactly sure when Rosie checked out on her job as a mother. What little Marcy had admitted to, beyond the evidence directly on her and Martin’s bodies, left him believing that the real problem had been that Rosie was never checked in.

Rachel had looked unhappy with the development of this whole situation – unhappy, but not at all surprised. Steve thinks that maybe Rachel has long harbored some suspicions of her own.

Steve walks back to his classroom like a sleepwalker. He feels drained, like some kind of vampire has been sucking on his neck all afternoon.

Billy leaning against a corner of the hall, waiting for Steve to return. His eyes, so stark and vividly blue, remind him painfully of Martin and Marcy. Reminds him of a hospital bed, and a monster made of a mountain of corpses and carnage. Reminds him of the way Billy had looked against the starched white linens, and how for the longest time, that was the last image Steve ever had of him.

Deep in himself, he feels sick down to his soul. With time and practice, he’s gotten the hang of dealing with other people’s pain, but Steve has never quite gotten the knack of looking directly at his own. His voice crawls from his throat, falsely bright and without any warmth. “Picked a wild time to surprise me.”

“Wasn’t a surprise,” Billy grunted, watching him closely. The way he always seemed to be watching him. The way, Steve now realizes, the way Billy literally always had watched him. “Buckley asked me to take you back home.”

“I don’t know why,” Steve says, frowning at his desk as he idly tidies up before reaching to shut the lights off. “You don’t have to. I can drive, it’s not like I’m impaired or something.”  

“Humor me,” Billy replies shortly, in a way that tells Steve he won’t be taking ‘no’ for an answer. Not that he ever really takes ‘no’ for an answer. Steve finds it both aggravating and charming, and he knows that combination is going to get him into some serious trouble one day.

Steve shrugs, though even that’s half-hearted. “Fine, I guess.”

Maybe Billy and Robin are right – he doesn’t really remember the drive back to his apartment and he’s sure that he opened the door at some point, but Steve finds himself in the kitchen, just…staring at the cabinets, and he can’t quite recall how he got here. Standing there, with no Billy in sight.

“Billy?!” His voice cracks, his voice going shrill with the same panic that’s making his palms sweat.

“What, what’s wrong?!” Billy shouts from the bedroom. His bedroom. Their bedroom? “Stevie?”

“I-nothing.” Relief suddenly makes his legs so weak that he nearly just collapses right down to the ugly linoleum floor. “Nothing!”

Come back. Come back and hold me and don’t leave me – not now and not ever. Tell you love me and tell me you’re okay. Tell me everything is gonna be okay.

Steve slid down the side of fridge and on to the floor, breathing deeply in and out.

Back when they first began living together, Robin had very quickly caught on to the fact that sometimes Steve was…not okay, so she made him get some time with an anxiety specialist – paid for by the US government, because part of the cause of this condition was a secret interdimensional hole under the town that occasionally produced violent alien entities that killed and ate people, which Steve and Robin were both not allowed to talk about with the outside world. They taught him breathing exercises, meditation techniques for moments like this one.

When he can get his legs beneath him again, Steve hauls himself off of the ground and searches around for the cast iron skillet. They have the ingredients for cornbread around here somewhere.

It will probably still taste like sawdust to him, but the activity will occupy his mind, at least for a little while.

He feels bad that he can’t pretend cheerfulness, even to Billy. Beyond the aching numbness that has penetrated into his very bones, Steve’s anxiety is shrieking at him, telling him that if he keeps acting this way, Billy will leave. A voice in his head that sounds like Robin warns him that his inability to give a shit about even that isn’t a good sign.

They eat dinner, and Steve tries to answer like a normal person would, but he can tell by the way Billy doesn’t quite meet his eyes that he’s not doing a good job. A much less helpful and comforting voice – one that sounds more like his mother or his father – tells him not to be so sensitive. To stop overreacting.

That other voice, his Robin/common sense/better angel voice, won’t shut up. Won’t leave him alone. Tell him. If you don’t tell him, you’re always gonna feel like shit about this. Tell him, dingus.

In the end, it’s Billy himself that breaks that final barrier on his silence.

---

Billy knows how to solve this – or at least he knew how Henry solved this when he found Billy wandering around fucking Silver Lake in the rain. But he doesn’t really want to put Steve in a bath of ice cold water and pour whiskey down his throat until he gags. Lost white boy. Hey, lost white boy! Why you walkin’ round lookin’ like somebody whipped yo dog? Huh?

He never did give him a real answer. What could he have possibly said?

Part of the problem is that if Billy didn’t know him so well, Steve would seem almost normal. But he seems a little extra vacant throughout dinner, while watching television, even while brushing his teeth. Like somebody replaced his boyfriend with a friggin’ Stepford Wife or something.

As gently as he can, Billy removes the remote from Steve’s nearly limp fingers. Steve barely blinks at him – though it would usually garner at least an indignant squawk from him. He tries to think of a way to say it diplomatically. Fail, because he’s Billy Hargrove and he has no diplomacy – and says: “Are you going to talk to me about this or do I have to torture it out of you?”

He’s entirely joking, but Billy flinches when Steve absently replies, “I doubt you’ll have any better luck than the Russians,” blinks, and then says: “What?”

Swallowing down his queasiness – Max has passionately defended Steve’s bravery at Starcourt before he ever even returned to Hawkins – he sweeps back the bangs hanging into his eyes. “Your kids,” he says, still clumsily attempting gentleness. “Do you want to talk about that? What happened?”

Steve smiles weakly, giving Billy a hug that held maybe a tenth of the strength he normally possesses. “No,” he whispers, face hidden away against Billy’s neck. “No, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Billy swallows again, wondering why he feels so disappointed. He doesn’t really want to hear the grisly details – he’s probably got firsthand knowledge of most of it already – but at the same time, it feels like part of Steve doesn’t fully trust him. Though that idea should sound ridiculous, an insecure part of himself – mostly the part that still remembers his dad calling him a fuck-up all the time – wonder if Steve is actually as serious about them as Billy is.

Because Billy is like…insanely serious about them. A hundred times more serious than a heart attack, serious.

If a single pastor in Indiana woulda let him, Billy would put a ring on the long white second finger of Steve’s left hand tomorrow. That’s how serious he is. They’ve been together less than a month, but a part of him has belonged to Steve, with Steve, for more than ten years now.

Beyond even his own paranoia and insecurity though, is just…plain old worry.

He’s pretty much always known that Steve has a heart of hold, but it’s starting to look like maybe this day has hammered it to pieces. He watches Steve brush his teeth mechanically, unaccompanied by any of his usual chatter, moving like someone twice their age.

At bedtime, they usually trade off being the big spoon and little spoon, but this time, Billy stays facing Steve, gently strokes his cheek. A part of him feels a flair of love and hope when Steve leans into the touch. “Take it easy, heartbreaker,” he whispers, sweeping back Steve’s bangs again. “I’ve got your back tonight.”

The streetlights outside spread across their bed in a warm orange glow, allowing Billy to watch Steve blinking in a heartsick daze. Faintly, Billy hears him say “He was just crying. Just crying the whole morning, and I couldn’t understand why. By the time I took him to the nurse’s office, I-I think I already knew.”

Steve is the one crying now – crying and hangin’ on to Billy like he’ll disappear.

Billy’s just stunned, stunned and heartbroken by how utterly devastating this has been for Steve. He’s speechless, and the only thing he can do is hang on and be here for him. So he does.

---

The next morning is one in which Steve is allowed to sleep in, both because it’s Saturday and also because it seems that Billy has already gotten up to feed Angie for him. Normally she wakes him up whether his alarm goes off or not. He felt the mattress move just before dawn, but Billy is in bed with him now, wrapped around Steve’s back. He’s got a lowkey headache from all the crying – or trying not to cry – that he did yesterday, but he feels calmer about the world today. Marcy and Martin are safe, and Rachel will make sure they stay that way. Billy is here.

Relaxing back into the pillows, Steve finds Billy’s hand resting against his belly and laces their fingers together. He can tell that he’s already awake – his fingers squeeze back at his own too readily.

“I thought about you,” he admits quietly, tracing over Billy’s knuckles – rougher than his own, belonging to fingers shorter and thicker than his own. “The head nurse probably thought that I was going crazy. He was just…staring at me, on the bed. And I kept thinking about the last time I’d seen you before you left town.”

“What happened to me…it’s all in the past,” Billy says simply, and the ways his arms tighten around Steve’s body is comforting but the words don’t soothe him.

It’s all in the past.

But it wasn’t. Not for Steve.

“I use to wonder where you were,” he whispers, lifting Billy’s fingers to trace his lips over the scars on those knuckles. “No…not wonder. I use to worry. About you – where you were, what had happened to you.”

And now that the words had were finally coming out, Steve couldn’t hold anything back. “I’d worry myself sick, because the last two times I’d seen you-” He chokes, surprised anew that even with Billy right beside him, those images held just as much power over him as they had before. “-the last times I’d seen you, you were dying or you were-you looked so hurt and lost…”

“I’d wonder if you were even still alive – were you okay? I used to have these-these really vivid night terrors about that night in the mall…” He closes his eyes and swallows past the hard lump sitting in his throat. “Robin made me see a doctor, it got so bad – she didn’t know the specifics, but she did know that it wasn’t getting better.”

And for ten years, he hadn’t been able to say the name of his crush out loud, like there was a terrible curse placed on Steve. He laughs weakly. “I-I remember nearly fainting when El sad she’d seen you at Max’s wedding, and you looked well. You were happier. Calmer. It seemed so silly after that – though I still wondered what happened to you.”

“That’s not silly at all,” Billy murmurs, and he sounds thought, squeezing Steve around the middle and warming him right through. “Was I okay? I wasn’t. Not for what felt like a long, long time.”

To Steve’s surprise, Billy hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder and continues speaking. “After I tried going back to my mom’s – I was kinda homeless. I mean, I had the truck, but I’d just got out of the hospital and I could barely sleep for more than an hour or two at a time and every little noise made me wanna crawl outta my skin. I didn’t really notice much back then, but I’m sure anybody who walked down the street crossed to the opposite side when they saw me coming toward them.”

“This guy – this random black dude named Henry found me walking around Silver Lake, just wandering around by myself in the rain. I’m still surprised nobody called the cops on me. Anyway, Henry took me back to his apartment, poured whiskey in me until I gagged and threw a bucket of ice water over my head.” Billy chuckles slightly. “Miguel was so mad at him for that.”

“Miguel?” Steve repeats in a whisper, terrified that Billy will stop talking.

“Yeah, Henry’s boyfriend, Miguel. He was a nurse. I called them Harold and Maude just because it drove him crazy. They, um,” Billy took a deep breath in, held it, then exhaled hot air down Steve’s neck. He shivers and Billy cuddles closer, Steve’s heart thump, thump, thumping for him. “They were part of the group of volunteers who like…took care of people with AIDS. A lot of their families just kind of…abandoned them.”

Thrown them away, Steve thought, heart sinking. Just like Billy’s mother had (repeatedly) done to him.

Quietly, Billy says “For my first couple years, that’s what I was doing. Helping Henry and Miguel and the other volunteers. Looking back on it, they probably thought I’d lost someone to it. Most of us had, it seemed to be everywhere.”

He’s silent for so long that maybe Steve thinks that this is it, these tantalizing hints are all he will get of Billy’s past for right now, and Steve continues obviously stroking at his knuckles. He aches at the idea of Billy, still injured and hurting from the rejection of his mother, wandering through California all alone, until a good Samaritan was kind enough to take care of him.

Then Billy says, “Sometimes, I wished…I wished that had it.”

And Steve can’t breathe, he can’t move, he can’t think. With five short words, Billy had wrecked his whole thinking brain. “You…that you had…”

“Yeah,” Billy says, very softly. “I didn’t want to die, I didn’t even want to be sick. But HIV was a concept Henry and Miguel would’ve known how to understand. I know that they saw the bandages, that first night, and the scars later on. I think I spent the first year there wishing that I were sick instead, just so that I would be able to tell someone what had happened to me.”

Steve can’t stand doing this without seeing Billy anymore and rolls to face him. “You shouldn’t have had to do that by yourself,” he says, nose trailing down Billy’s neck. “Nobody should have to do something like that by themselves.”

Willing his anxious stomach to settle, he adds “I hate that you went through that and that you were in such obvious pain that a literal stranger could see it. I hate that it took meeting two complete strangers for someone to finally care about when you were hurting. But more than anything, I hate that I wasn’t there for you when you needed someone.”

Billy’s freckles show in the morning sun, and the light makes his eyes bluer. He leans into the touch as Steve holds his cheeks in both palms. And what he says next makes Steve love him just that little bit more: “Maybe not. But I used to be a little boy, just like Martin Roberts. And you were there when he needed you, when Marcy needed you.” Softly, painfully gently, Billy kisses his mouth. “Because of you, Martin doesn’t have to grow up into me someday.”

Steve caresses down Billy’s cheeks with his thumbs, palms tickled by all the bristle. He whispers, “I don’t see growing into you as a bad thing, Billy.”

Billy huffs out a laugh, long eyelashes falling to his cheeks. Just the lightest of flushes touching the tips of his ears. “You were there, y’know.”

“Hm?” Steve murmurs dreamily, caught in the spell of those freckles and lashes.

“Every pair of big brown eyes were your eyes. Every lanky brunette with a sweet smile was you. I saw you everywhere I went. Trust me, even if you didn’t know it – you were there, heartbreaker.” His eyes devour Steve’s face, gaze lingering at the curve of his lips. “You're here with me right now."

When Steve cuddles closer, he rests his head right above the scars that mark the place where the Mindflayer pierced his chest. He has never been more owned, more possessed by anything than the feeling of his bare hand on Billy's chest. "Wild horses couldn't drag me off."

[heyyyharry]

My Girl Series: Chapter 12 - I Love You

…in which Y/N wants to face her past, but Harry wants to leave his behind.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 11: Paper Love - Y/N tries to compromise, and Harry tries to change.

warning: smut at the end.

OC version

.

Anyone who knew Y/N well enough would know that she never got on well with her father, and she deeply loathed his new fiancée Marcy. But no one, not even Celine, had an idea how much Y/N used to adore that woman.

It wasn't a coincidence that Marcy started seeing Bradford not so long after Tam's death. Before that, she used to be an employee at his hardware store in Holmes Chapel. She was clever, pretty, and funny — everything a man could ever dream of. And for an impressionable little girl like Y/N, Marcy was the kind of woman she wanted to become. She used to give Y/N useful advice on boy issues, on how to deal with mean girls in school, and she also had a great taste in literature and music. How could anyone not love Marcy?

How could anyone not love Marcy?

The more Y/N thought about it, the sadder it got. People like Marcy could have anything they wanted, even a married man; and those like her mother had no choice but to accept defeat and swallow the pain. 

Y/N felt very disgusted by her father’s wrongful affair, but most importantly, she felt like she'd betrayed her mother for even liking the person who'd torn their family apart. Her friendship with Marcy made her feel terribly guilty towards her mum, to the point where she ended up lying to Harry that she'd never met that woman before their dinner with her dad.

However, ever since Harry came back, those two had gradually become the least of her concerns. As a matter of fact, she didn't even hate Marcy as much as before. She knew she couldn't stop their wedding from happening, thus the only thing she'd asked from her father’s future wife was to leave her alone and stay out of her life. But Marcy didn't seem to get that. She went all the way against Y/N's request by showing up at her door three nights before the wedding.

"I'm visiting a friend in the city so I thought I should pay you a visit," Marcy said to the confused girl who was glued to the spot. "I'm actually going shopping. Wanna come with me? We can get you a cute dress for my wedding."

"Why did you think it was a good idea to show up here?" Y/N said, lifting an eyebrow. "Sorry, I'm very busy. I can't go with you."

"Wait!"

"What now?"

"I'm very happy that you accepted the invitation. I know this is hard for you but...please don't be like this," Marcy begged as she reached for Y/N's hand, causing the girl to freeze in an instant. "Please give me a chance to get to know you again...I—I'm not asking much just let me buy you a dress to the wedding."

At that moment, Y/N could envision her slamming the door and turning a deaf ear to everything Marcy had just said to carry on with her half-finished work in progress. In reality, however, she was actually considering the offer.

She'd told herself to stop running away from the past and focus on the future, because this grudge she held against her father and his fiancée had only been doing her damage. In the end, it was her own worries that ended up breaking her heart. Maybe she could never like Marcy the same way she used to, but she could give her a chance to fix her wrongdoings. A little effort to make peace was still better than nothing at all.

"Alright," Y/N said at last, making Marcy squeal in joy. "Wait here, I'll go get my coat."

.

.

.

As Jeff was briefing Harry about his shooting schedule for June, the actor let all the words fly from one ear to the other while his eyes stayed fixed on the phone, allowing his hairdresser to do whatever she wanted. He had put all the trust in her to make him look the best for tonight as he knew she had never disappointed him or his fans.

Yes, a red-carpet event sounded immensely fun and exciting, but truthfully, Harry hated these occasions and would only go when he must. If it hadn't been for Niall, who'd written most of the songs on the movie soundtrack and would be there as well, he wouldn't have agreed to attend that premiere.

Ping!

A text popped up on the screen, now distracting Harry even more from what Jeff was rambling on about.

⌲ Bambi: Just ran into Mrs. Huang. She complained about us being too loud again.

Trying hard not to laugh at the message, the man bit his bottom lip and quickly typed down a response:

⌲ Always fucked you good, didn't I? Pretty proud of myself. ;)

⌲ Bambi: Harry!

⌲ Well, you started it.

⌲ Now I cannot stop thinking about last night...

⌲ Bambi: Why are you always horny at the worst time?

⌲ Are you in class?

⌲ Bambi: Nope, dress shopping with THE bride.

⌲ Who?

⌲ Bambi: Marcy.

⌲ Lol really?

⌲ Bambi: Really.

"Done," said the hairdresser as she patted Harry on the back. "Let's get you dressed."

⌲ Gotta go. Tell me all about it tonight?

⌲ Bambi: Okay.

⌲ Bambi: CANNOT WAIT TO SEE YOUR RED CARPET PHOTOS!!!

Harry giggled at the text for he could hear her shouting with enthusiasm in his head. Jeff called him louder for the second time, causing the actor to look up and finally notice all the questioning stares his whole crew was giving him.

"Why are you still sitting there?! Hurry up!"

"Sorry, sorry, coming!" He shouted cheerfully, wasting no time to fly right out of his chair and following Jeff out of the room.

.

.

.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath as she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, slightly tugging on the flared skirt of her pastel pink gown. It now occurred to the girl that she hadn't gone shopping in a while. Lately, her life had been all about student debts, writer's block, and family drama. She seemed to forget how to really take care of herself.

Tilting her head to the side, she happily thought, maybe with some nice clothes and red lipstick on, she could be just as beautiful as the models Harry used to date.

"I think this looks cute on you."

"But it's pastel pink," said Y/N as she turned around to face Marcy. "I hate this color."

"You used to love it."

"Not anymore."

Little Y/N would grab all the pink items in the store and try on every single piece just because she was obsessed with the hue. But she was a different person back then — a bubbly young girl who saw pink in everything in her life. She'd read somewhere that the pink color stood for unconditional love and understanding, both of which she'd completely lost faith in as she grew up. Now without the kaleidoscope for an eye, her life was always either black or blue.

"Do you have this same dress in a darker color?" Marcy asked an employee in the store, but Y/N stopped that lady right before she could walk away.

"Can we take a break?" she turned to her future step mum. "I've been trying on dresses for half an hour already."

"Oh, alright." Marcy awkwardly nodded as she watched the twenty-year-old flop down on the sofa and pull out her phone — something she always did to avoid unwanted conversations. Taking a seat beside the girl, Marcy didn't mean to be nosy, but it was hard to ignore the beam on Y/N's face in reaction to her phone repeatedly pinging with new messages. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they were all from.

"So..." Marcy trailed off, hands linked together to rest on her knees. "You're going to the wedding with Harry?"

"Yes," Y/N replied shortly without looking at her.

So she waited a couple seconds more before asking another question. "Are you two dating?"

With this one, Y/N finally peeled her eyes off the screen and turned to her dad's fiancée, an eyebrow raised in annoyance. "What?" She scoffed. "Can't friends go to a wedding together?"

"Yes, of course!" Marcy freaked out. "It's just...your dad said—"

"My dad doesn't know anything about me." Y/N shook her head. "He doesn't even know my favorite book even though I used to rant about it at dinner every night. Do you really think he knows or cares whom I'm dating?"

"What Happens In London by Julia Quinn, right? Your favorite book?"

The question for an answer caught Y/N by surprise this time. "How do you—"

"—remember?" Marcy raised a smile. "You once told me your favorite quote from the book was: 'When a man writes a romance, the woman dies. When a woman writes one, it ends all tidy and sweet.' It's become my favorite quote ever since."

"It's still my favorite," Y/N mumbled; for the first time in forever, showing a genuine smile in front of Marcy.

That seemed like a good beginning for everything to go back to the way it’d been. Y/N forgot about her hatred for this woman who began to talk about how Sir Harry Valentine in the book was everyone's dream man, and all the things she adored about Lady Olivia Bevelstoke.

"Sassy, witty, and strong. That's why she's one of the best female characters." Y/N giggled, leaving a massive grin on Marcy's face.

"If you love Lady Bevelstoke then you should really take this dress."

"What does she have to do with this dress?" The twenty-year-old squinted her eyes in confusion as she looked down at the pink gown she was wearing. Such bright color always overwhelmed her, giving her the feeling that other people might stare, when all she wanted was to blend into the crowd or be invisible. She wasn't used to getting excessive attention.

But Marcy only rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you forgot Olivia's 'Unmarried Lady Sorts of Things' list. The first thing is: 'Wear pastel colors'."

"'And be quite glad if you possess the correct complexion for such hues'," Y/N nodded her head slowly, chuckling to herself. "I remember."

"I don't make the rules, Y/N. Olivia did."

Marcy rose up, pulling a giggly Y/N back to the full-length mirror and telling the girl to stand tall, chin up.

"There you go," she encouraged, lips curved into a wide grin. "Lady Bevelstoke." 

The name got the younger girl smiling from ear to ear. With one long look at her own reflection, Y/N inhaled deeply. "Okay." She nodded at last. "I'll take this one."

"Yay!" Marcy squealed, clapping her hands. "You go change and I'll pay for this dress then we'll head out to dinner!"

In that moment, watching the woman dash away to go get an employee, Y/N must admit that she was genuinely happy. She changed back to her own clothes and brought the dress to the front counter, still wearing the same smile.

But she really should've known better — that every bit of happiness in her life up to that point had been all short-lived, including that moment right then in the store.

She saw Marcy hand the employee her credit card, and her stomach clenched immediately as she noticed the shiny little rock on Marcy's slim ring finger. Y/N's smile broke, and so did her heart. She frantically clutched Marcy's left wrist, yanking it up, causing the woman to release a startled gasp as her mouth fell open.

"Is this...my...my grandmother's ring?"

Marcy withdrew her hand when Y/N's grip became uncomfortably tight as if it was meant to break her bone.

"Yes?" She answered, fear overtaking her face. "It's also my engagement ring...What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Y/N laughed wryly.

Everything.

Her dad had used that ring to propose to her mother, who had never taken it off when she was alive, not even once, not even to do house chores, not even when they threw things at the wall and he screamed at her. That was how much the ring meant to the late woman. And the fact that Marcy was wearing it around her finger today could only mean one thing — Y/N's father took it from her mother's body just to put it on the hand of his new and younger wife.

She might've been fooled twice, but she wasn't stupid. She wasn't convinced that Marcy truly had no idea what was wrong. This woman was either extremely dumb, or viciously pretentious, and Y/N knew better than anyone that Marcy was a smart person. And even though she also knew what her parents had wasn't love, it was still painful to think how fast a person could erase from his memory the one he'd vowed to treasure for the rest of his life.

"This is not your ring," Y/N said with her fists clenched tight. "This belongs to my mother."

"For god's sake! Your mother is dead, Y/N!" The harsh emphasis on that one word punched Y/N right in the guts, causing her heart to wrench, yet Marcy didn't just stop there. "What is a dead woman gonna do? Dig her way out of her grave and cut off my finger?"

That was the final straw.

"I was right about you..." Y/N scoffed, quivering lips formed a broken smirk as she shook her head slowly. "You're nothing but a homewrecker. A husband-stealing whore that—"

Marcy's hand smacked across her face, snapping it back with force and causing the girl to clutch her cheek, eyes watering. The small cut below her eye marked by the ring could be easily noticed from a distance. And Marcy was petrified now that she’d realized what she'd done. 

Both of them could hear whispers from the other people in the store who didn't want to interfere with their conflict, even though it was shocking how those two had gone from laughing together to one slapping the other.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't...I didn't mean to..." Marcy reached out, attempting to touch Y/N's face. But the girl immediately took a step back to dodge those hands like a bullet.

Knowing how hot-tempered Y/N had always been, Marcy expected a slap for revenge right then and there, but all that she received was a sense of fear in those glistening eyes. Without another word, the girl ran fast out of the store, ignoring Marcy calling out to her. She ran and didn't look back.

Soon she found herself lost in a river of pedestrians, all were either in a rush or minding their own business, and would just raise their voice if someone accidentally bumped into them. Y/N swirled around those strangers as the panic rose in her chest. She didn't even think, letting her feet guide the way to end up outside Harry's house. 

Trying to steady her breathing pace, Y/N flopped onto the doorstep, holding both knees to her chest and trying to ignore the stung of the slap evident on her red cheek. Though the last thing she wanted was to bother Harry while he was having fun at the after party, she couldn't stop herself from pulling out her phone and dialing his number. She felt the need to be with someone, not just anyone, him.

.

.

"I just ran into Ruby."

When Harry heard those words from Niall, his nerves were frayed. The party around him still continued, the music was still blasting at maximum volume, and all the guests in fancy clothes were still dancing and having a blast; to Harry, however, the entire world stopped as his whole body turned to stone.

He had never been claustrophobic before, but right now he began to feel suffocated for he knew she was somewhere in that same crowd. She could be in a different room, or just a few steps away from where he stood, still what mattered was the fact that she was there.

The mixture of expensive perfumes in the air along with loud laughter and rowdy conversations caused Harry a headache. He looked from left to right, frantically searching for the figure of the woman he used to love, unable to decide whether he was trying to spot her so he could hide from her, or just to see her face again.

It was annoying, wasn't it?

Harry thought he'd mastered not thinking about Ruby, now the possibility of running into her had him plagued with a sinking stomach.

"But she wasn't at the premiere," He nervously blurted, making his friend heave a sigh.

"She probably skipped it. I don't know."

"Did she...did she say something to you?"

Niall's hesitation before answering that one question got Harry sweating in his suit.

"She asked me where you were. She wanted to speak to you about something, but I told her that you didn't want to see her again."

Harry nodded slightly as he muttered a weak "thank you" before rushing towards the nearest exit. Despite Niall desperately calling out to ask where he was going, the actor only walked faster. Once again, he found himself running away from the ghost of his past, like the same old pathetic Harry a couple months ago. It was awkward, embarrassing even.

As he stumbled through the door, his brain was filled with questions that needed answers. What had gotten into him back there? Why was he so afraid of meeting Ruby again? Was it because he still hadn't moved on? Wait. No. He was sure that he had. Because the only girl that'd been on his mind lately was his Bambi, only his Bambi. Maybe he should get back to her.

His throat was dry when he swallowed hard and got into the backseat of his car. He told his driver Y/N's address, hoping that she was still awake to let him in. While chewing on his bottom lip impatiently, Harry looked out of the window, watching streetlights passing by and processing all the complicated thoughts running right through his head. He didn't want to start guessing what it was that Ruby wanted to talk about.

The loud ringtone pierced right through the silence in the car, causing Harry to flinch as he took out the device from his jacket. Once he saw Bambi on the screen, he picked up without reluctance, but the girl didn't give him a chance to speak first.

"I'm right outside your door." Her voice was rapid and fear-filled, making his heart halt for a split second as he quickly told the driver to go back to his house instead.

"I'm on my way home," he said fast into the phone. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I...I need to see you..." She sounded strained, which made him worry even more.

"I'm almost there. Can you wait five more minutes?"

"Sure" was all she said before hanging up on him.

Harry put his phone away and urged the driver to speed up, thanking God that it was late and the avenue was clear. In less than five minutes, he had arrived at his London home. He thanked the driver and rushed out of the vehicle to find Y/N sitting on his doorstep. With both knees held close to her chest, the girl only looked up when she heard his hasty footsteps on the pavement coming her way.

She'd been holding back from the moment she got there, but as soon as he showed up, it didn't take too long for her eyes to flood with tears. She didn't explain. He didn't ask. In silence, she fell into his arms and he held her tight, one hand at the back of her head while his other arm locked around her waist. She desperately needed that hug right now. But little did she know, he needed it just as much.

He kissed her temple as she clutched onto his jacket, telling her no matter what had happened, it was all fine now that he was there. It was dark outside so Harry didn't notice the welt on her cheek at first, but now that he had, he felt a physical pain surging through his bones. He took her face with tenderness. His hands were cold, but the softness of his touch made her feel warm inside.

"Did...did she hit you?" Sadness clouded his features when she shook her head to deny it, still, the look on her face screamed a loud yes. 

Quickly, he unlocked the door and pulled her into his living room where he could hold her for much longer without being afraid of curious eyes on the street. Harry didn't ask any more questions, knowing she would only tell the truth once she was calm enough and ready to confide in him. Now his job was to make her feel safe. He gave her one of his t-shirts so she could change out of her clothes and asked her to wait in the bedroom for him to return with a glass of water. 

She looked exactly like the night they first met. Underneath that hard shell she'd created for herself was still the same little girl who ran away from her parents' fight to a place where she felt safe. And he couldn't decide whether it was disheartening or endearing to see her this vulnerable. Maybe it was a terrible mixture of both. No matter how hard she tried to disregard the nine-year-old she once was, he knew from the sadness in her eyes that she had never really changed.

In silence, he watched her finish her water, smiling at the way his t-shirt looked too big on her. He wanted to just hold her in his arms and shower her face with sweet kisses until she fell asleep.

"I'll be right back," he said when she handed him back the empty glass. But when he turned away, her fingers were locked around his wrist, pulling him back to her.

"Don't go..." She begged. "Lie with me."

Harry was just about to say it would only take a minute, yet he didn't have the heart to deny Y/N's little request when she was giving him that face.

Nodding his head once, the man set the glass down on the nightstand then climbed onto the bed, pulling her close. Now that she was lying close to his chest, he thought she might feel his heart beat for her. They stayed in that position for a while, with him stroking her hair, and her fidgeting with the buttons of his white shirt. She loved the smell of his cologne which always put her at ease. While wearing his shirt and wrapped up in his arms, she was soaked in the scent of him, thinking she could stay like that forever and always.

"I read somewhere that when you lie too close to a person and can listen to their heart beat, your heart will slowly beat in sync with theirs," she said, which came out as a whisper and she felt his body shake with quiet laughter.

"Then your heart must be going insane right now." His joke made her eye roll, but he was staring at the ceiling so he probably had missed that precious smile she put on for him.

After another moment of silence, Y/N had regained her composure to finally tell Harry what had happened at the store, everything but the reason for the mark on her cheek, though she believed Harry had already figured it out. 

She breathed steadily, sorrow dawned on her face as she broke the silence once again, "when I was little, my dad used to say 'I love you' to my mum all the time. In the morning. In the afternoon. Before bed. Every single chance he got, he said those words to her. But one day he suddenly stopped. I assumed he just forgot somehow, not knowing the last time I heard him say he loved her would actually be the last." Her voice was trembling with various emotions. "From that day he raised his voice so often, he smashed furniture and made her cry instead of making her laugh. Maybe he never actually loved her. And those 'I love you's that he used to say every day meant nothing at all. It's just so depressing to think about it...isn't it? How fast a human's heart can change. How easy they can say those words and take them back whenever they want."

Harry's chest lifted when he sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it all out.

"Maybe he did love her at one point," he said, causing the girl to purse her lips.

"Is that what love supposed to be like? Something so fleeting that happens once and can just vanish the next moment?"

Those words really made Harry think.

"You're right." He nodded. "I guess not."

Shifting a bit so he could look at her face, he lifted her chin with his fingers so they were eye to eye and lips to lips.

"Don't think about him anymore," he told her. "Focus on me."

Y/N nervously giggled. For the first time since their kiss in the rain, Harry felt her shiver like a teenage girl being touched for the first time. There was something about the way the bedroom light reflecting in her weary eyes that got him hypnotized.

"Want you to fuck me," she whimpered, hot breath fanning his mouth before their lips attached for a passionate kiss. On spur of the moment, Harry shook his head rapidly, flipping them over so he was hovering above her. His pulsing member was right between her legs where she wanted him most now.

"Let's take it slow this time." He swallowed hard, stroking away the pain on her cheek with his thumb. "If that's alright with you."

Y/N could only answer by nodding fast, and that was all Harry had waited for to kiss her again, slipping his tongue past her lips, gasping when she held his hips down to feel him grow against her thigh. Slowly, as he wished, she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off to reveal his bare chest, running her fingertips across his tattoos as if she was learning the map to remember every single detail inked on his torso. 

With a hand at the back of his neck, she pulled him down to get a taste of those lips again. She could never get over their sweetness and she enjoyed the way he groaned into her open mouth. His crotch was slightly rubbing against her clothed sex, creating some fiction to maintain the tiny bit of self-control he'd got left.

The feeling was so strange, overwhelming, yet made him feel complete. His t-shirt that she was wearing soon came off after she'd managed to get him out of his tight jeans. They made out slowly with only his boxers in the way as his fingers found their favorite spot between her thighs. He kissed her hard, wanting to devour down every single sound she made, loving all the different ways she whispered his name. He loved to know no one else had the privilege to make her feel this good. Only him.

"There you go, baby. Fuck, that's my girl," he growled into her mouth as she rode out her first orgasm, one hand gripping his wrist as the movements of his fingers was gradually slowing down. He could get off just by looking at the way her face screwed up for pleasure, knowing he was the only one who could touch her this way, kiss her this way, hold her this way. "All mine," Harry whispered, stroking her hair as he tugged down his boxers while she was recovering.

"All yours, H. Want you...fuck...want you inside..." The sounds she made was the most heavenly he'd ever heard. God, he loved every single word she said to him. The fact that they weren't in a rush turned him on even more. He was so hard for her that his eyes watered when her sweaty palm wrapped around him to stroke him slowly. It felt so good, but if she continued, this would end embarrassingly soon.

"Shit, baby...Stop..." He took her wrist and removed her hand quickly. His breathing became ragged when he rolled the condom on and kissed her again. Both of them gasped out loud the second he started to push in slowly for her to adjust to the fullness. Now they could feel everything at once.

His hand reached for hers and they interlocked as he kissed her tenderly, mumbling "you feel amazing" and "so tight for me" against her plump lips. He was completely mesmerized by the way she scrunched her nose and tossed her head back. He couldn't help it, he had to bite down on that pretty neck, causing her fingers to tangle in his messy hair. The feeling caused them both to shiver in complete pleasure and ecstasy.

His warm hands roamed all over her naked body, stroking her flushed skin with affection as he focused on every single thrust, going steady and deep, wanting her to feel all of him.

"You're so beautiful." He breathed into Y/N's mouth, making her laugh slightly as she opened her eyes to stare back at him.

"You're gorgeous," she whispered, holding onto his neck to bring his lips back on hers. He slowly massaged her my breast as they kiss, causing her back to arch as she rewarded him with another soft moan. For his every thrust, her chest rose and fell dramatically. He could feel her getting close as her drenched walls were squeezing him when they maintained eye contact. Her stare was intense, yet tender, and sweet. The noises she made when she fell apart would come back to haunt him in his most beautiful dreams. Harry pushed faster, one hand holding her face, the other holding one of her legs up so he could give it to her harder.

"Yes, baby, that's it...Fuck," he blurted through gritted teeth, feeling himself coming close but he didn't want to close his eyes in fear of missing out her reaction to how good he was making her feel. With one loud gasp, Y/N came hard around him. Harry felt so close to the edge, just a few pushes more...

But then it happened.

"Harry...I love you...."

His eyes shot open wide. In the haziness of his own pleasure, he could still hear those three words so loud and clear. It wasn't a mistake. Y/N breathed harshly through her nose as she clung onto his back when he shuddered and came hard into the condom.

I love you.

Those three words were now echoing inside his brain as both of them tried to catch their breath. Harry's expression hardened as he stared at Y/N, yet the girl only seemed confused.

"What's wrong?" She quietly giggled, stroking his cheek. "Did I say something silly when I came again?"

With that question, he knew she didn't realize it. She'd let those words slip out in the heat of the moment. She didn't even remember saying them.

"No." He pressed his lips into a nervous smile, but he guessed she couldn't see it through. "I kind of spaced out..."

Y/N stayed silent and kissed his nose. The beam on her face made him feel twice as guilty. What would he have done if those words hadn't got out by accident? Would he have said them back?

Now in the darkness of the room, with her warm body pressed against his, Harry felt so hard to breathe. The feeling was no different from having a panic attack, and he was glad that Y/N had fallen asleep and couldn't sense that something was definitely wrong. He couldn't even shut his eyes now, just lying there in silence, staring at the moonlit ceiling and thinking hard about those words she'd said, which scared him witless.

I love you.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, pinching his forehead as he tried to get rid of the voice inside his head that sounded just like her. He tried to count sheep in the hope that it would help him drift off, when the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand struck right through his brain. Y/N was too exhausted to be bothered by the noise, still, she did shift around a little bit, so Harry quickly turned off the alert before it woke her. 

But the moment he saw who was calling, the color all drained out of his face.

RUBY

[randomwordprompts]

If It’s Magic | Chapter 6

A/N: This took longer than I planned but it’s here! I don’t do summaries cause I want y’all to read it so do that lol

Warnings: Light Angst if you squint hard enough Taglist: @bartierbakarimobisson @oceanscorazon @supersizemeplz @wakandas-vibranium @wakandan-flowerz @yaachtynoboat711 @great-neckpectations @reaperdeldrunk @storibambino @babygirlofwakanda

September 2nd, 2015 - Manhattan, New York

Amira slept soundly in the king-sized bed, clad in only a t-shirt that was too big for her plump frame. She rested on her back because she’d fallen asleep with her hulking boyfriend on her chest, though he now resided between her legs, pressing soft kisses to her thighs. His attentions grew more and more lingering as he neared her sex, his beard tickling her skin. She stirred slightly when he parted her lower lips, his own wrapping around the bundle of nerves at her apex. It didn’t take long for Amira to fully wake up with a groan of his name, her hand snaking into the hair he’d pulled up into a messy bun the night before.

“Jason...shit, you’re almost as insatiable as me.”

“Almost? I think it might be a tie.”

She chuckled sleepily and muttered about how it wasn’t even close before pushing his head back down between her thighs. Jason grunted hungrily and continued to make a breakfast out of her pussy, smirking against her skin when she pulled his hair loose and ran her fingers over his scalp, scratching lightly. Her hips bucked towards his mouth as he worked for his wet reward, her voice growing louder when he slipped two fingers into her, curling onto her g-spot with ease. It didn’t take long for her to release into his mouth and onto his hand with a moan of his name, all her movements pushing his shirt that she wore up around her breasts. Jason pulled away and sucked his fingers clean, eyes on Amira as she sat up and removed the only fabric covering her body. He grinned and removed his boxers before climbing on top of her, hooking her thick legs up with his arms and pushing into her with one smooth thrust.

They moved in tandem, meeting each other’s ministrations as hushed profanities and short grunts were passed between them along with lustful encouragements. Without much warning Amira came again, scratching at his shoulders and chest as he worked her through her orgasm. Jason followed closely behind her, his warm seed shooting into her as he moaned into the crook of her neck. They rested for a moment in each other’s arms but Amira was the first to speak.

“That was lovely, but now you definitely have to feed me breakfast.”

...

“Girls, with a boy like that it’s serious…”

Lucy danced and bopped around her shared dorm to Eros and Apollo by Studio Killers, singing along to the lyrics as she did some light cleaning. At some point, she paused to just sing and dance, not hearing the front door open behind her as she belted.

“Soon he will eat your ass like cereals…”

“Now I know damn well she said ‘hearts’, not ‘ass’. Clean ya ears, Lu.”

She jumped at the sound of her roommate’s voice and turned to face Amira before running over and hugging her with a laugh.

“I thought it was ass, it’s the accent. But hey girl!! You got Jason to propose yet?”

“Bitch, it’s been like two months-”

“Three! Time flies when you having fun, but you should remember these things.”

Amira rolled her eyes and took her bags into her room, laughing though she truly couldn’t believe it’d been a whole three months since she’d officially started dating Jason. Her lips spread into a grin as she realized it would’ve been four if she hadn’t avoided him for a month after the night they spent together, assuming he couldn’t be serious about dating her. He did everything he could to change her mind, including an elaborate surprise that involved “Amira, be mine?” being sky-written in the middle of a New York day. Once she gave him a chance she realized Jason was charming, funny, sweet, sexy, and all around just a great guy. He was basically perfect for her.

Almost.

He may be perfect for her, but he wasn’t Xavier. A thought she found herself feeling guilty for thinking about more and more recently, but one she pushed to the side as Lucy filled her in on some of the campus gossip she’d heard since being back.

…

“Daniel, open this door!”

“Not happening.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“He’s not here Marcy, but I’ll make sure he knows you came by.”

Daniel sat on the couch writing on his laptop as he lied through his teeth for his roommate, the young man in question next to him rolling his eyes at the pure desperation he felt coming off the girl in question, Marcelline, on the other side of the door. He shook his head when she finally caved and left, not missing Daniel’s gaze on him.

“What?”

“The hell did you do to Marcy?” Daniel was plain and blunt, per usual.

“I only fed off her once and it wasn’t even a full feed! Every time I would get into what she was doing, she’d say cock and my dick would go soft.” Xavier exclaimed, tired of her completely.

Daniel made a face at the sound of the aforementioned word, shuddering at the thought of being in that situation.

“Damn, I didn’t even know Black girls used that word. Even still, I can’t keep covering for you when she comes here looking for yo ass.”

Xavier sighed, sitting down next to his roomie, “I know, I’ll talk to her later on today. For right now I need to focus on this damn Lit class. Who gives a whole ass assignment on the first day?”

…

Amira looked over her reflection one last time, smoothing her hands over the strapless orange sundress that adorned her frame. She decided to pair it with her clear chunky sandal heels and opted for a natural makeup look, ready for her lunch date with Jason. After adding some gloss to her lips and pulling her box braids up into a high pony, she grabbed her small purse and headed downstairs to wait for him so Lucy wouldn’t scream loud enough to alert their entire floor.

Once downstairs in the lobby, she pulled out her phone and began scrolling through Instagram while texting Francois to find out how the family was doing, pausing only when she heard an all too familiar voice call her name. Her eyes lifted to see Xavier just coming off the elevator, gaze widening slightly before her fingers floated across her screen to text her brother once more.

Xavier just came off the elevator...

Porque? Did he see you?

He called out my name and is walking over to me dude

OI RUN AWAY

FRAN I-

“Amira?”

“Xavier, hey!”

Amira stood to greet him with a friendly hug, ignoring the way her heart tugged at her to kiss him all over his face. She noticed he’d started growing his hair out over the summer, keeping the sides tapered low. She also didn’t miss the flicker of hunger in his eyes when she stood and he took in her outfit but chose to ignore it. Instead, she tried to keep the conversation light.

“You look good, how have you been?”

Xavier rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his, before he answered.

“I’ve been okay, how about you? We didn’t see you around campus much over the summer…”

“I was around for classes but I ended up staying with a friend till Labor Day.”

His brow raised then, wondering who this friend was since she didn’t say Lucy. Before he could ask they were interrupted by the ring of Amira’s phone, one look at the screen causing her to immediately answer it. He noticed her smile when she did, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes the way it used to when he made her smile. While he thought about that, Amira turned and walked a few feet away as she talked to Jason.

“You almost here?”

“That’s why I’m calling, babe. We hit some snags during the morning shoot so we’ll have to work through lunch. I’ll make it up either later or tomorrow?”

Amira sighed, hoping he was going to tell her he was outside to save her from this awkward convo with Xavier. Since that wasn’t the case she told him she understood and that they’d talk later, stunned silent when the words “alright, love you” left his lips. So stunned she hung up without replying. When she turned around she found Xavier standing where she’d left him, looking at his own phone. Just when she was going to say something to him, a shrill voice caught both his attention and hers.

“Xavier!! X!”

Marcy sped up her formerly relaxed walk down the hallway at the sight of the towering incubus, his face shifting just enough to show his exasperation if you knew him as well as Amira did. She invaded his personal space without warning, completely ignoring the fact that Amira was less than five feet behind her.

“Marcelline, back up. You smell horrible, criss...”

She looked like he’d punched her in the gut, checking herself for any stench and finding none. Before she could question him Amira finally spoke.

“He means your aura, honey. I can smell the desperation from here and I don’t even know you.”

“Desperation?! Listen here you fat bitch, I don’t know who you think you are but-”

Before she could finish her sentence Amira was in her face with a hand wrapped around her throat tightly enough to just cut off her air supply, her face an indifferent mask.

“Unlike you, I know exactly who I am, and right now I’m someone that could snap your neck between her fingers. Now clearly the gentleman doesn’t want to fuck you so take your L and keep it pushing.”

Marcy choked out a weak reply only to have Amira let her go with a forceful push, knocking her onto the floor before she scrambled away wheezing. Xavier looked at his ex with a wonder she hadn’t seen in a while, one that had her stomach fluttering. He opened his mouth but she held up a hand to stop him.

“I know. You’re welcome. See you around, X.”

Amira moved around him and walked towards the elevator before he grabbed her arm lightly, making her look back at him.

“Hey, wait. If you’re not busy could I take you to lunch? Just to catch up.”

“Xavier, I’m not about to-”

“I don’t wanna fuck you. Well, I do, but I also just miss my best friend. So have lunch with me?”

She pondered it for a moment, but she couldn’t deny the sincerity in his eyes.

“Alright, let’s go. But just lunch.”

[fanfic-collection]

Vampire: Loki x Reader - Pt 14

Tag list: catalinaacosta , starscreamloki , dream-reaper , hufflepuff-always-and-forever , portietomednalynn , all-these-wonderful-things , jayyx3oxo , littlelokilover  , jessiejunebug , littlelokilover , vanessaaaasdfghjkl  , lokislilslut , thatmemequeen , luisaskywalker , tadashi-dash , kcd15

There was a bad TV show on in the background and it affected my writing I think... another filler chapter! Also, this story took an entirely different turn than I expected but I’m hoping to get to the nitty gritty soon or eventually, whenever it pops up but I want the romance just as much as you guys...

Waking up, you felt stiff all over. You started suddenly, blinking around at the now familiar interior of the farmhouse.

“Careful.” Loki muttered from somewhere beside you. “I healed you, but you're still weak from the hypothermia and lack of food.” You heard him sigh, and his voice lower, “both likely my fault.”

“The food definitely was.” You muttered, struggling to sit up.

Loki's face was full of concern as your propped yourself up on your elbows. Slowly you pushed yourself into a fully seated position. Loki reached his hands out, ready to catch you. You pushed them away, wrapping your arms around him in a fierce hug.

“Thank you.” You whispered, burying your face in his chest. “You saved me.” Loki stiffened, his hand gently touching your back in response, not daring to accept the hug.

“From a danger you wouldn't have faced if I weren't keeping you here.” Loki sighed again heavily.

Your stomach growled and he pulled away, pressing you back to a laying position. Loki turned and crossed the room, grabbing a bag from the ground and brought it to you. The contents smelled heavenly, your favorite preserved foods and you tore the bag open, heartily devouring it.

“Slowly, or you'll make yourself sick.” Loki murmured, “I would know.”

“You can drink too fast?” You asked around mouthfuls of food.

“Why do you think I reacted in such a way after a week of starving?”

You nodded thoughtfully, frowning, “I guess that makes sense.”

Loki yawned widely, glancing towards the curtained window then back at you. You glanced down at your side, curious of his handiwork. A thin scar marred your side, the only sign of the wolves' attack. For a moment, you blinked, slowly realizing that you were wearing a new shirt. You looked up at Loki uncertainly.

Loki looked away from you, “Your other shirt was quite tattered, I took the liberty of changing it.”

“Right.” Your cheeks heated up and you absently pressed the back of your hand to them. You were mindful to eat slower as Loki sat on a chair beside the bed, hovering and watching.

Time passed in silence between the two of you. Loki had retrieved a bottle for water and you were able to drink without leaving the bed.

“So you can shapeshift?”

“I've always been good at changing my form, illusions and the like. It seems my curse has enhanced certain forms.”

“The wolf.”

Loki nodded, “Yes. It makes travel simpler. Though I found that I can traverse land quickly even in this form.”

“You're just fast now?”

Loki chuckled, “I wouldn't say that.”

You blinked at him, looking up from the food then back down at it. Setting the food aside, you wiped your hands on the blankets covering your legs and faced Loki again. “So now what?”

“I would quite appreciate you staying here and not wandering out, especially without proper clothing for this weather.”

“So that it? I just wile away my life in this farmhouse as you hide from your brother and murder civilians that cross your path, stealing my food so I don't starve?”

Loki's eyes flashed and he stood up, turning away from you. His hands clenched into fists, releasing and clenching again. “No.”

“Well what then? You used to be a planner you said.”

Loki spun around, “I told you, I can't think like that. It's hunger, always hunger.” His voice softened and he trailed off.

“Analise seemed to work past the hunger.”

“Did you meet her yourself?”

“No.”

Loki laughed dryly, “She never visited after I changed, I wouldn't know if it's possible either.”

“So maybe it's possible. Maybe you can live some semblance of a normal life, just with a modified diet,  maybe you can hunt animals instead of humans.”

“I tried. I retched for hours afterwards. I could barely move, it was like drinking poison.”

You winced, “Alright, well maybe stick to donations.”

“As if I could just waltz into a hospital after dusk and collect my fill without question.”

“Thor had an arrangement set up.”

“Thor.” Loki hissed, turning away.

“He's your brother, he wants to help you. Why not go back to him?”

Loki glanced back at you and his eyes flashed but he didn't respond.

You held your hands up, “Right, right, the chains, sorry. I was just hoping that maybe we could move forward from that.”

“Have you even been caged like a beast?”

You looked around the small farmhouse, “Kinda.”

Loki followed your gaze and nodded slowly, “I suppose you would understand somewhat. Huddled in the dark, nothing but whispers running through your mind, that insistent thirst...” Loki trailed off.

“That's because you were locked in the basement, what if we convinced Thor to let you have free reign of the house?”

“Do you really think he would trust me after what I've done?”

“No, but he might trust me.”

“That's not a gamble I'm prepared to take.”

You huffed softly, folding your arms. “So what, we just stay here like this, day in and day out. You leaving all night to hunt and me waiting for you?”

Loki crossed the room and came back with another bag, pouring its contents onto the bed. Book after book spilled out, covering half the bed. “So long ago... I enjoyed reading.”

“These will probably keep me occupied for a bit. But,” You sighed heavily, swaying your head as you searched for words. “Loki, I need to do things, I need a purpose, I can't just wile away my life reading, surely you understand that?”

Loki gazed morosely at the books, “More than you know.”

“Why don't we go back? The food is more varied, you can focus on well focusing. We can have you stay out of the basement except if you need to at night, I'm sure we can remove the door so you can pass freely. You won't have to kill people, you don't want to, do you?”

Loki picked at his thumb, looking this way and that, “I don't... want to. No.” He swallowed hard, “I don't know.” He looked back at you, “It feels right, the blood is fresh and warm.” Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard. When he reopened his eyes, they held a dazed look as he studied you, almost not seeing you.

“What if... what if we supplement the other blood with...” you bit your lip, swallowing hard, “with fresh blood?”

“And how do you recommend doing that?”

“If we go back to Thor,” You held the silence for as long as you could, waiting to make sure you had Loki's full attention, “you could drink from me, not enough to kill me obviously but, but to supplement the donated blood.”

Loki's eyes widened, his tongue darted out, smoothing along his upper lip, brushing against his fangs as he studied you. Slowly he shook his head, “I... I can't, I couldn't. I shouldn't.”

“Why not? It would be a good way to teach you restraint. And it wouldn't be the first time you've tasted my blood.”

“What it takes to stop me from taking you then and there...” Loki looked at you hungrily.

Ignoring the possible double meaning of his words, you pressed on, “What if we started small? I could extract blood medically and it would still be decently warm, that might help... break your addiction. I mean, I've donated blood before, it'd be just like selling plasma for Marcy, it wouldn't be that often but.” You stopped, thinking of Marcy. Tears suddenly pricked at your eyes as you thought of how long it had been since you last saw her. What if Thor had dropped his end of the promise since it was technically your fault that Loki escaped. You pressed your hands to your face, trying to stop the tears. “Oh Marcy.” You whimpered.

You felt Loki's strong arms around you, the scent of his skin enveloping your mind. It was intoxicating and almost enough to push away your misery but the worry for Marcy was too strong. “What if Thor abandoned her?” You wailed. “What if he tossed her to the side since I failed? Oh no...” You moaned weakly.

Loki rocked you back and forth. The bed dipped down beside you and Loki wrapped you tighter in his arms, pulling you onto his lap. “It's alright, darling, hush now, don't fret. Thor wouldn't do that. He may have laxed in judgment on my behalf but he is not cruel, my brother would not abandon your sister.”

“You really think so?” You pulled your hands away, looking up at him and sniffling.

Loki nodded, “I'm positive.” He sighed, “The allure of tasting you again is quite appealing, but for your sister's sake, I will return. Promise that you won't let him chain me again, won't you?”

You smiled weakly, wiping away the tears, “I promise, I'll fight tooth and nail for you and do everything I can to help you break out if he attempts to.”

Loki nodded, a half smile touching the corner of his mouth, “Thank you.”

[webmarket01]

People Are Sharing Small Changes They Made That Helped Them Lose Weight (47 Tips)

New Post has been published on https://weightlosshtiw.com/people-are-sharing-small-changes-they-made-that-helped-them-lose-weight-47-tips/

People Are Sharing Small Changes They Made That Helped Them Lose Weight (47 Tips)

45 million Americans go on a diet every year. Moreover, Americans spend $33 billion each year on weight-loss products. The numbers are staggering, having in mind that two thirds of society are now classified as overweight and obese. So where did it go wrong?

Well, humans tend to overthink and end up trying too much. From counting calories to judging ourselves for a piece of cheesecake, some lose the simple joys of life, while others get fed up with their diet just not working.

But what if weight loss, like any other journey in the world, starts from some simple little steps? What if one or two basic changes in our lifestyle are all it takes to find the balance we crave? To find out, we looked at the little weight loss tips shared by people who genuinely claim they really worked. And no, you don’t need to give up on pizza any time soon.

#1

Make your couch a no-eating zone. I found that when I sat in my overused, sunken-in spot in the couch with food, it turned into a mindless binge-fest. Sitting at a table or kitchen bar with a plate and silverware made me more mindful and present when I ate, which in turn helped me to listen to my satiety cues and stop eating when I was full. Lost over 100 pounds in a little over a year.

#2

Just doing something in the gym everyday is better than nothing.

This advice helped me so much. It really reinforces that this is a lifestyle change by forcing you to just go be active everyday. It also helps just in the sense its objectively true doing 10-15 minutes on the treadmill is better than nothing if you really arent motivated at all. The biggest way it helps though is on the days you are unmotivated, once you start you will often just do your full workout.

Image credits: totalloserx

#3

Don’t try to ignore your cravings — just find healthier ways to satisfy them. I will never be the girl who says no to pizza or bread. Embracing it and not hating myself for it was the first step. Then I was able to find ways to satisfy those needs in a better way. For example, Cauliflower pizza crust pretty much satisfies my need for pizza. (I know, it doesn’t sound believable but it’s true!)

Image credits: Deb Nystrom

In the past few years, there has been a surge in what’s called the mindful eating trend, which is all about staying present in the moment and enjoying it. This approach gained popularity because it doesn’t focus on restriction, but instead aims at changing our relationship with food.

Mindful eating is opposed to mindless eating, which is all too common these days. The latter refers to eating past fullness, eating out of boredom, emotional eating, eating and multitasking, and eating to gain comfort and soothe yourself. Conversely, mindful eating refers to eating when your body tells you to, enjoying eating, thinking about where food comes from, listening to your body, and stopping when you feel like it.

#4

Give up delivery and start preparing your own meals instead.

#5

Stop weighing yourself as a means of measuring your progress. For a while I was focused on making my weight number constantly decrease. When I stopped looking at that and just focused on being healthy — eating right, fruits and veggies for snacks, exercising — that was when I started losing weight and feeling better!

#6

Swap “boredom eating” with other mindless (or productive) tasks. [I stopped] snacking when I was bored, became more aware of what I was doing, and I soon realized I wasn’t actually hungry. I was just restless and wanted something to do while I relaxed. So I replaced snacking with painting my nails. It’s also become kind of a fun thing I do for myself. When I’m at the store and trying to make healthy decisions, I will reward myself with a new color. Essie has become my preferred reward, as opposed to a ‘cheat meal’!

You can practice being more mindful in the way you eat simply by slowing down and concentrating on your plate. Let yourself be immersed in flavors, textures, tastes, and smells. Think of how the bite melts into your mouth and what kind of nutritional value you get from it.

Also, you need to learn to trust your body. Our bodies are smart mechanisms that can signal both hunger and fullness, except we sometimes prefer not to listen to them. In reality, when the mind tells you to grab another piece of cake, you may ask your body if it really wants one. You may be surprised by the answer.

#7

Skip escalators and elevators. I took the stairs EVERYWHERE! I worked on the sixth floor when I started this endeavor. I had to start getting to work earlier than normal just to make sure I’d make it up in time without being disgustingly sweaty. I lost 40 pounds in the first eight months and now I’m running half marathons multiple times per year!

#8

Water is your friend

Image credits: stop_being_ugly

#9

Cut down on sugar. “Trying to eat healthier foods” is good to do, but it’s also vague. For example, I’ve seen people go on strict low-carb diets and drink insane amounts of Gatorade. There are tons of things you wouldn’t expect to have a lot of sugar in them, too- it’s not always the obvious stuff like cookies.

Image credits: foreverfremdshamen

#10

Ditch the soda, seriously. I decided to give up soda for Lent since I had one almost every day at lunch. After the first two weeks I lost 10 pounds! When it was over I honestly didn’t even crave it all at anymore. That was years ago and now the taste of soda is always too much sweetness in a drink for me.

#11

There are no bad vs good foods.

Try to eat a balanced diet of fruits and vegetables, but if you want a donut and it fits into your daily caloric intake, eat the fucking donut. Don’t demonize food. Learn about nutrition, drink plenty of water, and exercise.

Image credits: trolldoll26

#12

Ditch friends who sabotage you or try to keep you from progressing on your goal. If you’re 180 pounds of fat and they say you’re getting too skinny they’re not trying to help you.

Image credits: _ImperialScout_

#13

Buy smaller plates.

I don’t hear this one too often, but it’s basically an aide to the common “Eat smaller portions” advice. Willing yourself to eat smaller portions can be difficult, but a smaller plate can look full with less food on it, and that can have a very real psychological effect. You still get that “I cleaned my whole plate” satisfaction, but you’ve eaten less to get it.

Image credits: Gluttony4

#14

Patience. Losing weight (especially a significant amount of weight) takes a considerable amount of time.

I lost 60 pounds, but it took upwards of 16 months of constant work. It was a shade under a pound a week.

Image credits: Neb810

#15

Stop forcing yourself to go to the gym if you hate it, and find an exercise you actually enjoy. I gave up trying to enjoy the gym and found things I actually like doing! What a difference! I’ve lost 30 pounds simply by finding exercise I enjoy, such as hiking, biking, yoga, swimming, snowshoeing, and kayaking, among other things. Now I crave exercise and can’t wait for my next workout session, because nothing feels like a workout anymore!

#16

Start taking your coffee black. Started drinking black coffee instead of having it with cream and sugar or the flavored creamers.

#17

Full disclosure, am still fat (currently 301 pounds), but I have lost 50 pounds since my highest weight and am working on the remainder. Here is what is working for me: 1.) Track everything. Get an app, or a journal. Write down everything that goes in your mouth. You don’t need to track calories at first if you’re not used to it. Just write down what you eat. Be honest, don’t cheat. 2.) Learn your triggers. What makes you eat? Is it normal hunger? Did you have a bad day at work? Did you fight with your SO? Are you “treating” yourself because you accomplished something? 3.) Redirect yourself. Don’t be idle. If you sit in front of the TV and snack, start cross-stitching, knitting, paint-by-number, F**KING SOMETHING that gets you occupied while sitting and watching the latest mind-numbing crime drama. 4.) Make a plan. Meal plan for a week, or be ambitious and do a whole month. Plan what you’re going to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Make a grocery list. ALWAYS GO GROCERY SHOPPING WITH A LIST. Never have to ask yourself “oh what’s for dinner? what do we have anyway? am i going to have to buy x ingredient? f**k it, I’ll just order a pizza”. Include eating out in your meal plan. 5.) Move a little. You don’t have to run a marathon. Just move more. Walk further. Do yoga in the morning. Just something to remind your body that it has a purpose. All I do is yoga in the morning and walk to and from the bus stop. 6.) Start small. Don’t make a goal to lose 100 pounds. Make a goal to lose 5 pounds. That’s a bag of potatoes. Those are huge and heavy! 5 pounds is a huge accomplishment. I never set a goal for myself except to lose 5 pounds at a time. Lose 5 pounds, drop one pants size, walk around the block without stopping, jog for 90 seconds. These are tiny goals that when added to incrementally make a HUGE DIFFERENCE. 7.) Ignore everyone else. Don’t buy some junk your Aunt Marcy promises will cleanse your colon. Don’t let your coworkers tell you “oh you look so good you don’t need to lose weight”. Don’t let your family say “but grandma made this chocolate cake just for you”. THIS STEP DOES NOT APPLY TO MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS SUCH AS A DOCTOR OR CERTIFIED NUTRITIONIST. The world wants to sabotage you. Listen to people that you pay money to to take care of you. 8.) Forgive yourself. This is the most important step. Love yourself as you are now. You are beautiful. You are loved. You are important. You are a human being. You will move forward but you will have bad days. You will struggle and you will hate yourself for making a bad choice. You will fall down sometimes. But life is a series of failures and lessons. Life is a long journey and weight loss is a lifestyle change, a transformation, and those don’t happen quickly. It will take longer than you think it will. And that’s OKAY. You are doing your best and you will reap the rewards SOMEDAY. Don’t be in a hurry. Enjoy the journey.

Image credits: bigdamncat

#18

unless you’re Chris Traeger you’re gonna f**k up. it took me two years of trying to get the momentum I needed to lose 110 pounds. I’ve got 50 to go and I’ve lost that momentum and it’s taken me a few months to get back in the swing of it. [Messing] up is a part of progress and progress isn’t linear.

Image credits: MichyMc

#19

The 70% rule

Eat 70% of the meal. Take a break and talk for a while drink some water and enjoy the moment for a bit. You’ll find that the majority of the time the food will settle in your stomach and you won’t be hungry anymore.

Edit: many are saying it’s a waste of food but I never said that. Get a to-go box and take it home.

Image credits: Pizanch

#20

Remove the sugar. Once you do that, it’s stupid easy. It’s not a secret, but it’s rare for people to really do it. We all scramble around trying to find a trick to avoid doing just that. Lost 60lb and kept them off. For the past year and a half I’ve been eating less than 10 grams of added sugar per day, no exceptions. After the first 2 weeks, it gets pretty easy. After about 2 months, the idea of eating sugary [crap] feels pretty repulsive. After a year, it’s a no-brainer.

Image credits: fixittillitbreaks

#21

It’s a lifestyle change. It’s not something you can do for a while and then be done with it. You need to continue to eat mindfully and exercise in order to maintain your weight once you’ve lost the excess.

Image credits: LeftWren

#22

Don’t drink calories

Image credits: LordTachanka_LmgMaL

#23

My mum says “Motivation helps to lose the weight but discipline is what keeps it off.”

Image credits: Rithims

#24

Walking. It’s so underrated. Anyone can do it, can be done anywhere and it’s free.

What I’ve been doing is leaving early for my bus to work and walking 30 mins along the route before catching my bus. On the way home I’ll get off early and walk 30 mins home again. Adds an hour of walking a day with very little disruption to my daily routine. That plus eating better and I’ve lost a stone in about 5/6 weeks

Image credits: JiMMyCCuDDa

#25

Meal Prepping. You would be surprised how much control you give yourself over your calories when you plan ahead. It also saves a lot of time and money.

Image credits: totspur1982

#26

Don’t look in the mirror. This was sophomore year of college and my roommate didn’t have a full-length mirror to hang in our room, and neither did I. Without it, I discovered that I could mark my progress based on how I felt rather than how I looked. This was great because it prevented me from being discouraged when I didn’t see results right away. Looking back on it now, not having the opportunity to constantly glance at my reflection actually played a pretty key role in my success. I ended up losing around 40 pounds total.

#27

Treat yourself really well. Be easy and gentle with your thoughts, then the decision to eat healthful foods will be easier to sustain.

#28

Make sure you’re actually drinking enough water. I realized I was terrible at it and it’s so stupid. I bought some 32-ounce bottles and put labels on them, so I have to drink 8 ounces by certain time points, fill up the bottle and do it again to get 64 ounces in a day. I feel a lot better and have an easier time exercising now that I’m not chronically dehydrated.

#29

Quit fad diets for good. I had lost weight before on really restrictive diets like the Dukan diet and then just gained it all back as soon as I was allowed my regular foods again. By deciding to quit the fad diets and eating smaller portions and mostly unprocessed foods, I found it was a whole lot easier to lose weight, I felt much healthier and the weight stayed off!

#30

Replace “I wish” with “I will.” I used to always say, ‘I wish I looked like that.’ Or I would look at people on Instagram who had lost 100 pounds and I would think, I wish I could do that. And then finally it just hit me. Stop wishing for it and just do it. Replacing ‘I wish’ with ‘I will’ has helped me make actual goals that I am on the way to achieving. I have been working out six days a week and watching what I eat for over a month now and I have lost over 20 pounds. I am so excited to see where I WILL be in a year!

#31

Chew flavored gum to keep your mouth busy and overcome eating addiction. It’s so much easier to quit chewing gum I find.

Image credits: unknown

#32

Do simple exercises like push-ups and sit-ups every night. Start out with low numbers and by the end you’ll be able to do 100+ push-ups a day. It’s just involves making it a part of your routine.

#33

Realizing that you CAN actually control your body weight. You are in the driver seat. Eat 2000 calories but burn 2500 calories a day? You WILL lose weight.

There is no secret to losing weight. End of the day it’s Cals in vs Cals out. The control and results are addicting.

Source: Lost 50 pounds in the past year.

#34

Stop buying your go-to unhealthy snacks so you’re not even tempted. The only snack food I keep in the house now is cottage cheese, Triscuit crackers, fruit, hummus, English muffins, and veggies.

#35

I think a lot of people go into dieting with a mentality of “I’m going to diet constantly until I hit my goal weight” and either end up stopping along the way or putting the weight back on within a year or two of reaching their goal. What I have found that helped me was stopping my diet every 3-4 weeks and having a period just trying to maintain that particular weight before I start up again on my diet. It has helped me keep things under control and it’s nice to have a little break from a diet every once in awhile.

Image credits: ElPapiGrande

#36

Be prepared for the psychological barriers you will face if you are dieting. People will pressure you to eat badly all the time without really realizing it – when you go over to your parents’ for Thanksgiving, when your co-workers go out for drinks and wings after work, when your partner wants to go out to eat and celebrate something, when you go over to a friends’ house for a dinner party.

People think they are being nice to you when they say that one piece of cake or big meal won’t kill you and you should just go for it. In other circumstances, they just won’t realize that are making you feel like a diva or a wet blanket when you don’t eat what they clearly want you to. You have to be prepared for these curveballs or they can undo everything.

Most diets are designed for you to be able to construct your meals basically from scratch at home, or consume something prepackaged. But for many people their lifestyle and social life just can’t accommodate that enough. You need to learn to have backup plans that don’t make you feel like an ass or a killjoy. Plans can involve eating before, deciding what you eat when you get there, and how to talk to other people about it so everyone is comfortable. It takes some effort, but you get the hang of it pretty fast if you work on it.

Image credits: zazzlekdazzle

#37

(Not fat, just had a brief “chubby” phase in my teens, but I cured it fast.)

My tip: don’t snack. it’s easier than you think.

Eat your breakfast, lunch, dinner. In between those, stay the hell out of the kitchen and eliminate snacking as an option at all. Stay busy with life and fun. Don’t wander around your house bored and depressed until you find yourself making peanut butter toast with cookies or chips. Just GTFO of the kitchen and into a life of some sort.

The bulk of the magic is in the diet, not exercise. It’s a hell of a lot easier/quicker to refrain from eating 500 extra calories than it is to eat it then try to burn off 500 extra calories.

So when you’re done a meal, brush your teeth and get on with your day.

#38

My trainer wanted me to run, but I just could not for the absolute life of me get into the habit of running. So I would do this walking / running interval. I still hated it

So I decided to just cycle instead. Yes it burns fewer calories than running but you know what, I actually do cardio when I’m cycling. With running I wouldn’t really do it, I’d be like “meh I can skip it today.”

#39

Cut down on beer.

Drink only water

Burn more calories than I consume

Eat smaller meals

Go hiking as much as possible in preferably challenging terrain.

Pull up bar.

I’ve went from 198-163 since the end of May and I look pretty damn fine now.

Also, mind numbing depression helps with the hunger…

#40

Don’t stop at home before going to the gym after work or class. I cut out the middle step of going home before working out and started going to the gym straight from work. If I set foot in my apartment, all intentions of going to the gym fall by the wayside because my bed and Netflix always sound like better alternatives. Going to the gym straight from work helped me get into a routine, and in just over a year, I’ve lost 45-plus pound

#41

Ditch alcohol

#42

Cut back on foods with added sugar. I got rid of added/extra sugar during Lent one year. This meant no desserts, no soda, no syrup, etc. Fresh fruit was OK and I used yogurt with the least amount of sugar to satisfy my sweet tooth. In 40 days, with minimal exercise outside of gym class in high school, I lost 20 pounds.

#43

Feeling hungry for a bit won’t kill you. Drink water and deal with it.

Image credits: Kitehammer

#44

Soda has to go, period. Sure you could balance it into you calorie counting but why bother when you could fill it with stuff that makes you feel better

#45

If you want to lose weight, start by honestly counting your calories. You dont need to cut back what you eat, just keep track. Keep doing this for 2-3 weeks. By doing this, you are showing yourself just how much you are consuming.

From there, establish a small goal for yourself, e.g. 2100 calories per day. Keep track and measure your calories honestly. It’s okay if you dont meet your goal every day, but aim for most days.

Once you are comfortable at that level, lower it a bit further down, to say 1800. Keep this up and repeat until you reach 1600, 1400, or 1200 calories per day.

Take time to work your way down. Dont deprive yourself of a once in a while treat. The end goal is not to hit a point and then go back to eating how you did when you started, it’s about changing how you eat permanently. Sustainability for how you eat is what it’s all about.

Personally, my goal is 1300/day and after doing this for 2 years, it has become normal. A bad cheat day for me is 1600-1900 calories, which is in line with what my body needs (BMR).

The hardest part of this process is being honest with what you are eating and sticking with your goals.

#46

Treat working out as a social activity. One of my friends got a Groupon deal for a gym, and about five of us signed up. I joined purely to hang out with the boys after work instead of going home and browsing the web. We started going every evening, and within a few weeks I started noticing significant differences (as all beginners can relate).

A month later, I signed up for a gym closer to work and started eating better. Now, four years later, I have lost 100 pounds of fat, and put on over 25 pounds of muscle.”

#47

“You can’t lose weight unless you are hungry.” Accept it and deal with it.

Image credits: reddit

This content was originally published here.

[overhere-series]

Over Here: Chapter Five

Having a buffer is so lovely. Here you go! Next chapter goes up this coming Saturday if I remember among all of the laptop and self-care shenanigans that day. Love you folks!

Do let me know how you think things are going or share if you enjoyed it enough!

Marcy Faust takes both travelers by the hands and drags them toward the path, Hazel and her brother close behind. She makes her siblings look downright anti-social, twittering about how much they’ll like the kid’s mom and their food and every single detail about her and Mason’s day prior to finding the hole. The only thing keeping Cass from clamping a hand over the girl’s mouth is the thought of Hazel going bear over it.

Besides, Marcy’s story takes on manic speed when they come to the half-withered horse thing and its voice. “And Mason and me weren’t scared yet until we got under and it was so pretty with all the metal and Over There things everywhere but we did get scared when it got asking for our names, because we know what the stories say but it kept asking and asking and got scarier- but I was smart! I told Mason ‘don’t you tell’ and then you came and-”

“Breathe, Marce,” Hazel says.

“You were very wise to hold onto your names,” Winston assures. “And courageous, especially when a fragment requests them.”

The smile he offers only encourages Marcy to take one on, too. “Yeah! I told Mason not to say my name or his name, because I heard from my aunt you can lose your name if someone else gives it away-”

“Not possible, I’m afraid. You can only give away your own name, never another’s.”

Cass blinks but continues on. Already the list grows longer and longer for all the questions she’s got, but it’s all she can do on their walk to hide the tick in her jaw and the stiff steps to help her knee.

When they arrive the Fausts lead them to a private kitchen upstairs, the one in their home above the restaurant. It’s all tapestries and wall to wall cupboards, small and cozy and definitely better than the dining room below. They’re told to wait and then left be at a table in the center.

At the Fausts’ retreating backs, Cass eases into her chair. Her knee thanks her for it. Now seated and idle, though, Winston twitches, raking his hands through his hair, drumming his long fingers on the tabletop. Cass squeezes her eyes shut to ignore it, but eventually the tap-tap-tap of his nails and the bounce of the vase acting centerpiece grates on her ears.

“You wanna cut that out?”

“We need to be going and-”

Cass kicks back in her chair, arms folded. “Oh yeah, you really wanted to get out of here when you signed us up for this,” she mutters, throwing a wave over the room. She tries to keep her voice down but keeping her tone to a raspy half-yell takes more effort than she’s got left.

“That’s different,” Winston says.

“I don’t know, I didn’t get any input when you decided to play hero. Guess we’re even for that now, right?”

“Cass, this isn’t-”

“Except for you trying to sell me to a freaking monster back there. Want to explain that one to me, birdbrain?”

Winston quits drumming on the table. “Yes, that. My apologies, but I had to think quickly, you see. You should have come with me from the start,” he says. “The plan might have worked better, actually, though it’s amazing enough to believe the fragment fell for the scheme as it was. With a bit more preparation it could have been fun indeed.”

He’s got a wistful smile Cass doesn’t like one bit. “Yeah, no. That was the exact opposite of fun.”

“It made a decent plan, even if it relied on our friend being so very broken. And you proved yourself rather capable in there. All the same, I’m sorry I didn’t ask your thoughts. I just wanted to work quickly so we could be out of here.”

“We can’t just bail, they sort of owe us,” Cass shrugs, even if her jaw pangs a little from her low words. Under the table her foot bounces up and down. Just a little time to feel better and then they could get moving without making it worse.

But Winston straightens in his seat. “That is not why we do this.”

“What’s with the ‘we’? I’m not a warden. We’re not doing this again.”

“If the need comes I have no choice. It’s my job. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you much earlier, I just hoped things wouldn’t-” He pauses, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. “I hoped it wouldn’t be relevant so soon. Which reminds me,” he adds, “I need to scribe the others so they don’t worry.”

“Other wardens?”

Winston lays out his map and bottle on the table in front of him. The map sketches out four main countries, Ellis just beneath a group of mountains with a coast running its lower border. Haven’s marked with a big black dot on the far east of it. “Yes. Our work isn’t about reward, Cass. It’s about doing what must be done.”

“Poetic,” Cass says with a roll of her eyes. “Well, I’m not honor-bound or whatever. I got hurt helping them. I say we reap the benefits.”

“You could be, with time. Some training with Jermaine and Rissa and you’d- wait, why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

Before she can answer, his bare foot prods hers under the table. Her skin crawls, not just from his touch but like warm water spilling down to wash over her leg. Said comparison doesn’t thrill her. She shivers but the sting of her scrapes smooths away.

“Fascinating,” Winston says.

Cass stiffens. Being called fascinating, the way science experiments and unexplainable deadly accidents are fascinating, doesn’t endear her to the bird any more than his touchiness does. “Keep your magic to yourself,” she rasps.

“You’re no longer injured, yes? At any rate, it was not my magic.” His hands spread over the map, tracing the lines with his fingers.

“What’s that mean? Did you like pull out of the air or something?”

“No, I pulled a fair bit of it from you.”

“Like I had some on me.” Magic from some tree or other living thing, powdered on her like pollen. It’s not a question, just an explanation- even if she can’t see it, he claimed it’s everywhere.

Winston looks up from the map with a deep breath, folds it like he’s closing his mind on it until he’s handled the conversation. “From within you. Honestly I’m surprised the fragment noticed what little you have or it’d never agreed without a name. I wish you would have told me earlier or you wouldn’t have had to walk with your knee as it was.”

“Back the hell up to where you said I had magic in me? You said seeing magic,” she hisses. “You never said anything about making it.”

“I told you, magic is a fact of life here. It’s a system in the body, necessary as the heart or the brain. You don’t will its production any more than you can the blood in your veins. From the moment you fell here the roots have been forming around your nerves-”

“Magic equals life just sounded like some fancy fantasy BS! What is this, a virus? You’re telling me there’s nothing I can do?”

“Well, I can bind the magic in your vessel to slow the effect. You’ve got to keep me informed of how you feel, but… generally, yes. You’ll be able to control the magic in your body once it’s there, but there’s not much even I can do once you’ve developed an inclination. I must say, most otherlanders are much more pleased about it.”

Cass can’t deny to herself how much the idea pleases her, just a little bit. The same part of her that wanted to know what lay behind the gap once and for all, but look how well following that voice turns out. The heat in chest pulses out, humming through her spine and out as far as her fingertips in a ripple. Basically she’ll get magic powers. Something the little kid on the bridge always wanted.

Whether she wanted them here and now or not.

“So, what? I don’t get back in time, I turn into a bird or something?” How’s that for controlling jack?

“It’s quite possible, should that be how the magic decides to express. I doubt you’re therian as I am but taking other forms is just a single way the magic could adapt. Guiding magic in other organisms, controlling materials of life- changing yourself or the world around you. It’s personal as a name.”

Cass forces down the heat in her chest and plants her feet on the floorboards, ready to run. Get out before things get crazier than they already are. “Can we go back to the part where I can stop it? How long do I have?”

“Days, likely.”

“And we just wasted an afternoon here.” She tries to ignore how she factored into it, wasting even more time retracing their steps back.

“I wouldn’t call it a waste, Cass Douglas. We have time. Breathe.”

“I’m fine. I just don’t have time to sit here and you just put us off tracking knowing I had a time limit. What’s wrong with you?”

He chuckles, opening the map again. “I’m well aware of our time. I’ll try to keep you better informed, but it’s my duty as a warden to handle this sort of thing. Hopefully we won’t encounter many more incidents like this but I’m afraid our barriers are only going to get weaker the further we are from Haven.”

“Why’s that?”

Winston blinks, like he’s forgotten what he’s said. “Well, the amalgam we keep the barriers with is in Haven. The further the magic extends from the amalgam, the weaker its effect- with a whole country, quite a lot of room for holes and errors. We’re at the edge of Ellis as it is but even so, it shouldn’t be happening so soon.”

Cass flinches with the return of Marcy, who gives her a tap on the arm. “It’s ready! You want to come to the kitchen down there?”

“What’s ready?”

Marcy pulls on her arm again and they both rise to follow. With all her focus on the conversation, Cass had mostly ignored the combination of smells wafting up the stairs. Cheese, bread, some sort of fishy smell she remembered from camping on the coast with her parents...

They come to a table against a few barrels lining the walls, on them two plates with bread bowls on them. Marcy sits them down with a flourishy little bow. Cass takes a seat as the rest of the Fausts circle the table with chairs of their own. The aunt, the “guard” Perrin, a few more ladies who’d been cooking and might have been a couple.

“It’s lunch soon anyway so we thought we’d treat you,” the aunt says. “Perrin insisted, and you can’t sway them when they get an idea like this.”

Perrin puts an arm around each traveler, tears in their eyes. On first glance they look pretty feminine, but they just seem to go by guardian instead of Mom to the Faust kids. “You save my babies, you’ve earned a free meal.”

Cass eyes the bowls and tries not to blush. Or be tempted by the food, but by the time everyone’s seated Cass already has a spoon in hand. It ends up cramped, but she can’t care less.

Fortunately magicians don’t have a blessing and she can dive into her bowl with as much gusto as Marcy and Mason. Maintaining her level of activity requires calories and lots of them. The soup melts in her mouth, the bread stiff enough not to get soggy before she finish off the goods inside but not stale.

The Fausts listen while they recount the thing from the pool, although Hazel and Winston are careful to tiptoe around the parts that might frighten her. Cass pitches in with her kick to the thing’s face once they get there, which got a nice chorus of ew’s.

“I’m glad no one was hurt,” Perrin pops in. They stare into their bowl, tapping a foot under the table.

Winston ate half the bowl before anything else, but keeps drumming too like he’s waiting for a Faust to untie him from his chair. “It’s the least we could do.”

“We do need to go soon,” Cass adds. Not too eager-sounding, she hopes.

“Warden business?” Dani asks. A knowing grin crosses her face for the two guests. “Always curious when one of you longcoats come to town, but you didn’t look the kind until you said something.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, my dear.” His tone’s playful, amused even. “But yes. For that matter, we need to tend to a bit of closing business now. Thank you very much for your kindnesses today.”

There’s some hugging and promises from the kids not to go running off behind the barriers again, then they got the okay to finally leave. Yet again Cass tries to look miffed about stopping, but the kids’ reactions are too good when she winks at them on her way out the door. The last thing she catches is Marcy’s grin and Mason’s big ol’ saucer eyes.

“So where next? Clemence?” she asks the bird as they go roughly along the same path they’d come. For all the time-wasting they still got a map and a meal out of the afternoon. Time seems to work the same here as it does back home, so that leaves them a few hours before dark and the rest of the evening for travel. Not much in the grand scheme, not if she knows she’s got a timeframe on this trip.

They continue back along the stream, Winston keeping an eye out for the opposite shore. “To finish our business, yes?”

“You mean the hole? Why? That thing’s trapped, we’re good to go.”

“The hole’s still there,” he says. “I still haven’t scribed Finch to close it, and light won’t stop our fragmented friend for long. I wouldn’t like to see their attempts to take anyone else. Would you?”

“Alright, alright,” she says. “Back there and then back on track again, though. Right?”

“Right,” the bird agrees. He keeps his hands at his back as they walk the way they’d come, back through the mud and carefully across the stream where they found the hole again. He stands there a moment, considering the tunnel worn through the bushes.

“Would you like to come with me or would you like to wait?” he asks, peering still further inside.

Cass stares at him. What is this, a test? At least he’s asking her this time rather than just ditching her, but knowing what lies behind that tunnel doesn’t make her all warm and fuzzy about going this time. She gives the bird nod and watches him disappear into the bush.

Then she stands there and gives it a little more thought. The bird doesn’t see her coming this time. She can get the chance to see what he’s up to when he doesn’t think she’ll be watching, and to see the kelpie again at a safe distance.

She looks into the hole and lets out a groan, teeth grit together. Fine. Still growling she gets down on her hands and knees and crawls.

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

MTVS Epic Rewatch #161

BTVS 6x11 Gone

Stray thoughts

1) “Gone” is the trademark “Sarah takes a week off and she’s only in a few scenes” episode. Some of these may be memorable, albeit not necessarily good, mostly because they’re other-characters-centric (like Triangle, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered or The Zeppo) Others are unquestionably bad, like season 4′s Where the Wild Things Are. And yet others fall somewhere in the middle on the quality scale, like The Killer in Me or Gone. As is the case with any Buffy episode, there are some memorable scenes and lines in this episode, and it does advance the plot, especially regarding Buffy’s and Willow’s season arcs. But as a whole, the episode kind of falls flat. 

2) Hm, what could the writers be possibly implying by this? Do they mean that magic... is like... I don’t know... a drug, or something? The underlying message is so difficult to read! Why won’t they spell it out for us?

DAWN: But they're just candles! BUFFY: Well, yeah, you know, to you and me they're just candles, but to... witches they're... like bongs.

3) I’m usually a hardcore Dawn defender, but she was acting really childish in the opening scene, throwing a tantrum because Buffy was getting rid of all the magic-related stuff in the house. She was 15 years old, and therefore old enough to understand the gravity of the situation. For Christ’s sake, she had almost died two nights ago because of Willow’s addiction, how could she not get it? I blame the writers for this, though. It was an OOC choice for Dawn, in my opinion. Moreover, they wrote her quite inconsistently in this episode: she’s complaining to Buffy in this first scene, but she’s talking to her normally as sisters do. It doesn’t look like she’s angry at Buffy, you know? And then the next morning she’s all silence-treatment and sullen and sassy? 

4) So... the trio actually built an invisibility ray, and we’re supposed to believe they would stay in Sunnydale to become supervillains instead of making millions off their inventions?

5) #buffyswiggivesmethewiggins

6) Buffy was definitely partly responsible for the events that led to Dawn’s getting hurt. She shouldn’t bear the brunt of the blame, though. Yet she does, because that’s who she is. She talks about being too wrapped in her own “dumb life” to notice Willow was going off the rails or to pay Dawn enough attention, but the thing is, there’s nothing dumb about what she was going through. There’s nothing dumb about suffering from depression and PTSD and needing to focus on yourself. How could she take care of anyone when she couldn’t/didn’t want to take care of herself? 

7) So, this is what Xander walked into...

If you think Buffy was being harassed, you’re not reading the room right, dude 

Also, I need to comment on something and I hope I get my message across right. And I ask you to bear with me. At least twice so far (the “footsie under the rubble” scene, and this one) Buffy had told Spike “no” or to “stop” while her body language suggested otherwise. That’s going to be their dynamics going forward. Buffy says no, but then Spike pushes her a little bit, and she gives in. Time and again, we’ll see different variations of this dynamic. It’s definitely an unhealthy dynamic, one I wouldn’t foster in any relationship. And the right thing to do each time Buffy had said “No” - even if she eventually didn’t really mean it - would have been to back off. But Spike was no gentleman. He might make us forget it sometimes, he might forget it himself quite frequently, but he was a vampire, evil by definition and lacking a moral compass. What happens in Seeing Red is in no way justified by this or their established dynamic, of course. It can’t be justified by anything. But what I’m trying to get to is how Spike’s psyche works and what led him to believe that if he just pushed a little bit more, she would eventually give in as she had done so many times before. The difference between the scene in Seeing Red and all the previous instances before it, a difference that Spike failed to notice because he’s not wired that way and which makes ALL the difference in the world, is that both Buffy’s words and her body language were screaming “No.” There weren’t any half-assed attempts at pushing him away, there weren’t any come-hither “stops” or “nos”. She meant it that time, and that’s all that matters. 

8) Spike is ticked when Buffy won’t introduce him even as a friend, but the moment Buffy tells him the lady was from Social Services, he immediately tries to put in a good word for her, and it’s kinda sweet. Although he ends up mucking it up, but at least he tried.

BUFFY: Spike... this nice woman is from Social Services? SPIKE: Oh, right! Uh... hey! Buffy's a great mom. She takes good care of her little sis. Like, when Dawn was hanging out too much in my crypt, Buffy put a right stop to it. MS. KROGER: I'm sorry, did you say- BUFFY: Crib! He said crib. You know kids today and their buggin' street slang.

And he calls her “mom”, which I love.

9) ICONIC I

MS. KROGER: Oh, so you live with another woman. BUFFY: Oh! Oh, it's not a, a gay thing, you know, I mean, well... she's gay, but, but we don't... gay.

10) ICONIC II

Although, isn’t all weed magic weed by definition?

11) Basically, the social service lady’s visit is an everything-than-can-wrong-will-go-wrong nightmare come true. 

12) See 7) above...

BUFFY: Why won't you go? SPIKE: I just thought you'd want... BUFFY: Get out of here!

And not only has she kept his lighter, but she’s carrying it around on her...

13) And then Buffy goes all Felicity on her hair (damn I really want to rewatch Felicity! Felicity and Ben forever!)

14) I do love the season 1 reference!

XANDER: Buffy, how did this hap... wait a sec, have you been feeling... ignored lately? INVISIBLE BUFFY: Yeah, ignored. I wish. No, this isn't a Marcie deal.

15) Oh, after talking about this, this scene really feels like the writers were writing the on-set drama into the story! Like Anya wanting to get a haircut just like Buffy’s mirrors Emma wanting to get a haircut just like Sarah’s...

ANYA: You cut your hair? INVISIBLE BUFFY: Oh, yeah! ANYA: Really? How short? INVISIBLE BUFFY: Um, about up to here... well, if you could see my hand, it's kind of above my shoulders. ANYA: Ahh, that sounds so adorable! I was thinking about getting my hair cut before the wed...

16) Buffy basically uses her invisibility to do the silliest, pettiest things, for real. On the one hand, one would think that’s very un-Buffy-like. On the other hand, that’s what any human being would do in her shoes, at least in the moments right after gaining this superpower. Plus, she needed some mindless fun. And it’s pretty much what she did in Earshot, so it’s definitely in-character.

So, here’s a recount of what she did as Invisible Buffy...

1. Channel Lilly Kane as a fashion ghost...

2. Stealing a police cart while crying  “ So long, copper!”, therefore channeling Spike, Ripper or both.

3. Fucking with the social services lady in the most annoying ways.

17) I appreciate the reversal of roles the writers did with Buffy/Willow. During the last episode, we’d seen Willow crash and burn and Buffy trying to be the mature one (emphasis on “trying”.) Now, Buffy’s out of control and Willow’s the one trying to rise above the situation by going back to basics. I’ve given Willow a lot of flack for her behavior up until now, but I really love her in this episode. She’s honestly trying, she gets shit done the old-fashioned way, and she overcomes the temptation to use magic. That’s the Willow I love.

18) And then, there’s this scene...

...let’s call it for what it is: dubious consent. Okay?

19) Oh, this statement is going to become a lie so soon...

WARREN: The Slayer got slammed with a big-ass dose of radiation when the gun overloaded. Her cells are mutating at an accelerated rate. Eventually her molecular makeup will start losing its integrity and then ... pfft. ANDREW: But, wouldn't that kill her? WARREN: Well, lemme think. Yeah! JONATHAN: Wait a minute! We're not killing anybody. Especially not Buffy! WARREN: You guys are so immature! We're villains! When are you gonna get that through your thick skulls? JONATHAN: We're not killers, we're crime lords!

20) ICONIC III

So... Xander has just told Spike Buffy’s invisible, and he’s caught Spike having invisible sex, and yet he can’t put two and two together? Plus, she was gasping and moaning and the freaking ear was moving all on its own!! How thick can you be?!

21) I mean, magic withdrawal aside, we can all relate to this moment...

22) It’s only after Buffy meets Dawn and she freaks out about her sister being invisible that Buffy understands this shouldn’t be a laughing matter...

DAWN: Buffy? Where are you? INVISIBLE BUFFY: I'm invisible. Check this out. Wooo, wooo! Unidentified flying pizza, comin' in for a landing.

DAWN: W-what are you talking- INVISIBLE BUFFY: Okay, not the most clever ad lib, but come on! Points for spontaneity. DAWN: Stop it! Just... stop.  INVISIBLE BUFFY: Sorry Dawn. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. DAWN: Well, what did you think would happen? You're freaking invisible, Buffy. INVISIBLE BUFFY: I know. Xander and Anya are working on it. Muldering out what happened.  DAWN: Well, what about you? Shouldn't you be working on it? INVISIBLE BUFFY: Of course I- DAWN: Do you even care about, about who did this to you, or, or if you're gonna be stuck this way? You're making jokes and flying pizzas. INVISIBLE BUFFY: I don't think that's- DAWN:  I can't talk to you like this. I can't see you! How can I talk to you if I can't see you?

23) And Willow solves the case with some good old-fashioned sleuthing and I love her for it!

Of course, she gets kidnapped in the process, but what can you do? You win some, you lose some.

24) And yet again, she figures out they’re trying to kill Buffy with some good old-fashioned science knowledge!

25) Tucker’s brother :)

BUFFY: Who are you?

ANDREW: Andrew. I summoned the flying monkeys that attacked the high school? During the school play, you know?

WARREN: It's Tucker's brother. JONATHAN: Yeah, it's Tucker's brother.

26) This might be my favorite moment in the episode.

BUFFY: Pretty neat, you finding the van. So... how did you manage to... do it exactly? I mean, to locate it? WILLOW: The hard way. The spell-free way. The oh-my-god-my-head's-gonna-fall-off, my-feet-are-killing-me way. I don't know how I got through this day.

BUFFY: Well, the important thing is that you did. It's a... good first step. WILLOW: How are you doing, post-invisibleness? BUFFY: Okay. I still have to do some damage control from my giddy-fest. Dawn was pretty freaked out. The whole taking-a-vacation-from-me thing didn't work out so well. WILLOW: Tell me about it. BUFFY: Except... when I got Xander's message... you know, that I was... fading away... I actually got scared. WILLOW: Well, yeah. Who wouldn't? BUFFY: Me. I wouldn't. Not too long ago I probably would have welcomed it. But I realized... I'm not saying that I'm doing back-flips about my life, but...  I didn't... I don't... wanna die. That's something, right? WILLOW: It's something.

I love the fact that they’re there for each other and that they’re the ones pulling each other through their shit. And they’re quite honest about where they’re at - even if they still have secrets. Both of the made it through the day, and sometimes that’s the biggest accomplishment of them all. 

[andreaeppolitoevents]

Thoughts as a Speaker at Engage 17 Grand Cayman

Las Vegas based Wedding Planner Andrea Eppolito shares her experience as a first time speaker and five time attendee at the Engage! Luxury Wedding Business Summit.  

Each time I leave Engage, I spend my time on the plane rereading my notes and looking through my iPhone photos.  I begin to write, trying to put down the emotion, the inspiration, and the education of the week.  Inevitably I stop; there is too much to say at once. I stop, I let the week's adventure settle, and when the professional photos come in the entire week washed over me in a totally new and unexpected way.

I went to my first Engage in 2012; seven months pregnant, barely in business for a year, and still wondering if this "wedding thing" was viable in a way that could sustain me both financially and creatively.  Each night I returned home, my head spinning.  Between those moments of fan-girling (Mindy Weiss!  OMG!  Brian Worley....Marcy Blume...Elizabeth Messina!) there were these incredible a-ha moments (enter Cindy Novotny) that made me believe to my core that I was right where I needed to be.

As I recounted the events of the week to my husband, her looked me squarely in the face and said, "Five years from now, you'll be speaking at Engage."  Blasphemy!  What on earth could I teach these people?  But you know what?  It lit a spark, and became the big, elusive goal that I worked towards.

Two weeks ago, exactly five years after attending my first Engage in Las Vegas, I hosted my own breakout session as a speaker.  And let me say....The experience did not disappoint!  You see, I knew that there was nothing I could say to make these planners better planners.  I cannot teach a photographer how to take a better photo, or entertainers how to have a bigger presence.  But I know about living a life of "less but better".  I know how to say "no" and I have designed a business to support the life I wanted.  Those things I could talk about. Those ideas I could share.

Looking out into the room, there were a mix of attendees who both shook me and and anchored me.  I wanted to make CIndy and Lefty (of Master Connections) proud.  I wanted to impress everyone, especially Sean Low.  I wanted to thank Matthew Myhrum, Brooke Palmer Kuhl, and Phillip Van Nostrand for their friendship and support.  I wanted everyone to feel that the 45 minutes they invested with me was time well spent - from first time Engagees to like Molly Bea and Paco de Leon to seasoned veterans like Linda Mitchell.  And I wanted to give Paul Morse something worth shooting!

I found it ironic that a conference branded and themed to the idea of "YES" scheduled me to talk about "NO" - but in the end it was perfection.  My session sparked the most unexpected conversations that I have ever had, and took me in directions that I could not have imagined.  I truly believed that I learned as much as I taught.  I am more than honored; I am humbled.

Engage has changed my business and my life.  In honor of my 5th Engage, I am sharing....

The Top 5 Stand Outs from Engage 17 Grand Cayman

(That Have Nothing to Do With Speaking)

Grand Cayman is exquisite.  I had visited the islands a few times in college and during my early 20s.  To go back now gives me a deeper level of appreciation for the people, the culture, and the food.  Each and every person that I met was naturally and completely hospitable.  There was never a moment when I did not feel utterly taken care of.  The Kimpton Seafire and their team never missed a beat, and I am oh so lucky to have been one of the first to get to experience their newest property.

Buffets for Days!   Each meal we had was served via a buffet, displays, or stations.  For someone like me (with a random food allergy and all sorts of weird preferences!) this was a dream!  I got to pick and eat whatever I wanted!  And the weird side effect was that I never felt overly stuffed or full....Meaning I could play and talk and dance all night long!

We need to talk about money.  All of us need to be a lot more transparent with ourselves, our partners, and our clients.  Why are some entry level planners charging $3,000 and others are charging $30,000, or $300,000?  Where does the technical aspect of planning a wedding end, and the creative artistry begin?  And what value does that have?  Colin Cowie got up on stage and actually posted his pricing.  Paco de Leon spoke about how creatives can be financially stable.  Sean Low posed the question of how and why we price as we do.  In an industry with little regulation or universally recognized accreditation, working your way through the money side of things can only be done if we all talk a lot more often, and with a lot more honestly.

Style is the new focus.  Whether it was listening to stylish It Girl Dallas Shaw talk about her trajectory from aspiring artist to fashion royalty, watching the team from Vogue weddings walk us through which nuptials catch their eye, or dissecting the sartorial choices of designers and artists, it became clear to me that the standards of pretty are changing.  To be noticed, you need to develop a style that cannot be ignored.  Be it grand or refined, how we style ourselves, our couples, and our events is what differentiates us, taking the work from "Oh, that's pretty" to viral.

Engage Friends are the BEST friends.  Said it before, will say it again.   There is no place in the world outside of Engage where I feel so completely supported and accepted.  My fellow Engagees near and far are my cheerleaders, my fans, my greatest critics, my family. And I am theirs.  Twice a year (for me) we all get together, suspend disbelieve, and allow Rebecca and Kathryn to take us on the ride of our lives.  We talk and laugh and sometimes cry.  We tell each other things we would not tell our best friends.  And it's ok.  We leave better people, and these interactions carry us from one summit to the next.  There is no corner of the world that Engage has not touched, and so being a part of the world's coolest summer camp means that I have people anywhere, everywhere.  

Rebecca and Kathryn, what you have created over the last 20 Engage Summits has touched and changed the lives of everyone who has ever attended your conference.  Not one of us comes out of it the same way we have gone in, and we are all better people for having taken this ride with you.  

Oprah Winfrey has said, "Your legacy is every life you’ve touched."

To Rebecca, Kathryn, and my Engage Family - I am proud to live in your legacy.

Always...

Click below and get to know the amazing partners that made Engage all that it was!

Enjoy the beautiful photos from the professionals....

And here are a few behind the scenes snaps of my beautiful friends and I.