#no it wasnt a perfect life but regardless they did things that bettered themselves and helped others (mantis. nebula. etc)

[phantastragoria]

Watched B-Mask's video essays on the Sly games trilogy for the millionth time (you should watch them too btw) and I can't stop thinking of the similarities between Vol. 3 and Honor Among Thieves specifically in both dealing with the characters having to decide what comes next in their lives seperate from each other because they just can't do the same job forever, but what the Sly games do that the GotG films don't is build up to that being a main plot point from the second game up to the ending of the third. Vol. 3 really makes the odd choice to have that become a background plot point and then expects the audience to just be okay with them all suddenly deciding to part ways within ten minutes at the very end.

I can't stress this enough, but my problem isn't that everyone goes to do their own thing. My problem is that suddenly being the end goal of Vol. 3 after two films + a holiday special where that was never a possibility or a problem in the first place. The only reason everyone stopped progressing (and even then mainly just Rocket and Peter. You can say Mantis got held back but even she had character development to realize what she wanted during her time with them so she wasn't literally held back like she was with Ego) was because both of their lives only came to a screeching halt after what happened outside of the core films (IW+EG) But the film itself didn't even bother to address any of that stuff aside from only Peter being depressed about Gamora. So it comes off rather moot to me, personally.

[frostbite-the-bat]

stop that.

yknow how you can start with idk.. a mascot or vtubing? hit up an artist. support them. pay them. does your friend draw? maybe they'd be willing to help!

or maybe get involved!! start drawing yourself! in this day and age i know people are often very busy but if you have time to look at this ai shit and want a hobby like, as they for example say, fandom or vtubing - you probably have time to draw and design a thing.

its not about affordability, though yes, many adopts are overpriced but artists DESERVE PAYMENT FOR THEIR WORK!!! there are issues with adopts and scams and all this, and i agree that people hyping designs up because they're by someone famous is a bit... meh... and many artists will underprice because of this in the end.. but really. ai. is that your solution. stealing more art?

none of this is embracing creativity. you are stealing artwork. embracing creativity is being brave and drawing something yourself. even if it "sucks" at first - you created something! who else was going to draw it the same way you have? ai sure wont. it's just data making images based on prompts.

nobody can draw like you can!! embrace it!!! that's what is wonderful about art!!! i know people can be rude and exclude newbie artists, and people seek out these sleek "professional" art styles and you will get overlooked in certain areas of the internet if you DO not look like that. but like... why follow that??? just!! do your own thing!!!

i am all for supporting anyone starting art!! it is a difficult journey and i am still going through it!! but if you want to do an artsy thing WITHOUT putting any effort into the art itself... why fucking bother? why care? is art just assets to you??? how swallowed by everything corporate are you???

it's fucking disgusting that these people are SELLING these. art they didn't make themselves. i do give them props for "cleaning them up", at least there is minimal effort put in. but to me it is no excuse. you can draw then, right? make your own adopts!!! hell back then i had worse art and people bought my designs regardless because (it was cheap) and i put it where people sought adoptables in the community!! these people even turned their comments off. you don't even need to speak to them to get an adopt. you just buy it on the side and can download the image (which, is often cropped)

like my hand drawn adopts sold better and faster than most my base adopts - which i think says something??? not to say all base stuff is bad! it is not a bad thing. but going out of a comfort zone and drawing my own thing ended up working for me. here's the art below. it wasnt perfect but it was genuine. y'know?

you can make base adopts!! there were people even sought after and well known back then who made designs on bases and they sold WELL!! it allowed people to buy designs someone made and it was quicker with the help of a base. like as long as those are okay to use by the creator you can use them. theres nothing wrong. its like a coloring book. you still put in some effort and your own spin.

with this ai fixing you just fix the text being weird and the paw being off and are good. you did nothing.

sorry for popping off but it's pissing me off. i do believe that ai could be used for useful things - but art theft like this branded as CREATIVITY AND FREEDOM is. so sick to me. that's what ART is. that's what ANY CRAFT IS. that's not what telling words to a bot that shits out pictures based on other, real artists, art.

im so mad. ai art where fandoms come to life. no, artists who work their asses off making art for things they love out of passion is where fandoms come to life. interacting with fellow fans is where fandoms come to life. not this shit. i feel so bad for the new generation of young deviantart users. it wasnt perfect even back when when i began using it early 2015 - god it was horrible, but at least we didn't have art theft like this painted as CREATIVITY AND ART COMING TO LIFE! no the fuck you dont. but man things sure have changed since 2018, damn.

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

how about companions (+sturges) reacting to a sole who gets injured? :))

(Love that you requested to add sturges, hope you enjoy!)

Cait:

"Ya just had to go off and act the fool eh? What did I tell ye about that? Did you want to become super mutant puppy chow?"

Though she may sound rough at first, it comes from a place of true concern. Damn those green skinned freaks, especially their hounds. Had you just been a second quicker with your trigger finger, maybe you wouldn’t have the perfect outline of a mutant hound’s teeth imprinted into your thigh. It didn’t matter now though, no, what mattered to her now was making sure to get you some place safe enough for her to pour out her trusty flask of whisky onto your wounds and duct tape it up.

It would have to do for now..

Curie:

"Oh mon dieu..well, at least this is what I specialize in madame/monsieur."

Honestly this is best case scenario! She is equipped with a vast medical knowledge and proper instruments so..be it a simple scrape or broken bones, she’ll have you feeling like new!

Danse:

"Listen to me soldier, I need you to remain perfectly still for me. I know it hurts but just..stay calm."

In your line of work, getting messed up was well..let’s just say it’s an occupational hazard. Danse knew this quite well, but it still didn’t stop him from paling when he realized just how beat up you were after a straggler ghoul threw itself at you.

Once the firefight was done and he could properly asses you, he’d suck in a sharp breath, hesitantly stripping any necessary layers before doing his next to put into action what little field medicine he could remember from boot camp.

Probably not as good as going to a doctor...but he made it to where you wouldn’t bleed out.

Deacon:

"Oh..does your arm usually resemble jelly? I'm ju- just playing, oh..oh god."

Like always, deacon would use his humor as his go to..even when he felt like he was going to throw up when he heard the sick “crack” of your arm as you fell right down on it.

Whenever you got back to hq, he’d be certain to bug Carrington and Tinker Tom until you were feeling better.

Gage:

"I'll give ya a reason to cry if you don't shush it boss...now, do you need me to carry you back?"

Running around in Dry Rock Gulch probably wasnt the best idea you ever had, especially becoming apparent when you took a hard fall after tripping over one of the cut out props. No big deal right? Wrong. The minute you tried to stand you found yourself yelping in pain as a hot stinging sensation seized your ankle.

Rolling his eyes, Gage initially thought you were just being over dramatic but he soon realized he was wrong when he saw how much your ankle began to swell. He’d feel pretty bad for being so rough with you but he’d make up for it, making good on his word by literally carrying you piggy back style to properly address your injuries within the comfort of your “home” in fizztop.

Hancock:

"Now that doesn't look too good. Uh..here just sit down right there and wait. Mmh, now would you like to hit that jet I was offering? Too soon? Sorry..."

Fights and the resulting injuries were not something he ever backed down from. Lord knows he isn’t the squeamish type. That’s probably why you were just as surprised as him when his eyes went wide and he had to take a couple steps back..that is until you looked down and saw the rather deep gash into your mid section..heh, must be the shock keeping you from feeling it.

Regardless he would actually be flipping out, trying to play it cool by offering the chems when really he was having a meltdown on the inside.

Macready:

"Just hold still boss and..try not to look?"

He physically grimaced when he heard your body “plop” forcefully into the wall, the raider responsible for the force soon finding themselves without a jaw as you pulled the trigger against their chin with your own pained scream.

However it was when you helplessly whimpered, your arm hanging unnaturally at your side..he knew he had to help. As such, he’s seen this before thankfully, so he’d put you up against the wall before roughly putting your shoulder back in it’s place....desperately trying to not flinch when he heard your cries.

Damn.

Maxson:

"Sentinel? Oh..oh crap...Well don't just stand there, Knight! Someone go get Captain Cade immediately!"

Everything has seemed just fine. For purely official reasons, you were giving him a run down report of the recent mission, ignoring the less than subtle way his eyes lingered on the blossoming purple hue on your head during the entire time. The vertibird ride back up to the prydwen was awful..during the fight with the “muties” you lead your team through, one managed to hit you hard enough to shatter the glass visor on your helmet. Sure it hurt, there wasn’t anyway it wouldn’t..expect this injury was unique because well...for one you heard church bells in your head and could barely form an intelligible sentence without saying “uuuhhh” or pausing.

However even Arthur couldn’t help but break his professional exterior when his precious high ranking officer crumpled down to their knees right in front of him, your team hurriedly scrambling to get you up to the bay clinic, Elder Maxson right there beside you.

Nick:

"Wow..um, this would be a whole lot easier if you were made of steel and bolts. Never mind that, just hold tight, I'll have Ellie send for doctor Sun."

True to his word, he’d send his nice secretary out to fetch the doctor, taking matters into his own hands when he deemed it was taking too long. With a soft sigh he’d try to hide what little annoyance he felt..damnit he told you to be more careful..no matter what though he couldn’t stay too mad. So with a concentrated gaze, he’d carefully tend to your wounds- making Doctor Sun quite pissed when he finally reached the agency.

Old Longfellow:

"Told ya so....seriously though, you've got to be more careful cap'n. Now, bottoms up."

Had you done anything else he might’ve felt a little bad for laughing as hard as he did. He told you to be careful, you swinging that hammer around so carelessly. Just like he expected, you may have gotten a little too overzealous when you nailed down the board’s frame together, not moving your thumb out of the way before BAM!

With a pouty scoff you’d admit that yes, he was right, and after a smug smirk he’d pour you a nice stiff drink to full the pain.

Piper:

"Oh damnit, you uh..you're looking a little weird there. Hey, why don't we just sit down hm?"

If anyone would’ve gotten word of it, they would’ve thought it was hilarious. “The big, bad, fearsome sole survivor! Faints from stubbing their toe.” That would be one hell of an article, people around the commonwealth would eat it up. She wouldn’t dare do that to you though..no matter how silly it was. I mean, she’s seen you get shot and not break so much as a sweat but....you literally crumpled when you stubbed your baby toe?

After she got over the shameful laughter she tried desperately to keep in, she’d scramble to go pick you back up-leaving you to wonder why and how you ended up in piper’s bed back at the “publick occurrence”.

Preston:

"General, I mean, (y/n)..is there anything I can do for you? Name it and I'll do it."

He knew something was terrible wrong when you can stumbling back to the castle, your right arm clutching the left with a terrible pained expression on your face. After further investigation and your sheepish confession of just what had happened..he felt god awful.

If only he had been there to help you.

Nonetheless he’d make up for it now. His first mode of action was to personally escort you to get you looked at, after that he’d be there at your every beck and call.

Sturges:

"This is sorta what I meant when I told you people weren't as easy to fix...heh, not funny. Don't worry, I'll make sure to take care of ya."

It was a miracle you were even able to make it back to Sanctuary..well, it was a miracle and Preston’s assistance to be exact. As much as it pissed you off, instead of such a grave injury being because of some grand battle, you stupid power armor malfunctioned. One minute you were walking around, testing out the new modifications you made to the leg structures until next thing you know, your left leg’s frame failed and seized up. Usually such a thing wouldn’t have been a problem but, you were still walking when it did

With a sickening *snap* you felt such great pain that the ground beneath you began to sway, suddenly finding yourself unable to move without screaming.

Just as you felt you were going to lose all consciousness, Preston himself pried you from your armor and carried you back home where you were immediately posted up with a certain someone at your side.

Sturges, oh sweet, sweet Sturges.

Despite what many would assume, he’s pretty damn good at catering to you. Even if you practically shooed him away at times, he’d be right there to do his best to help you rewrap your bandages and lighten the mood some. Heck, he’ll even find someway to fix you up some crutches and a wheelchair for easier transportation.

X6-88:

"Just relax ma'am/sir, I'll be certain to have you properly tended to shortly."

In the wasteland it was painfully common to end up being shot. Matter of fact, it’s somewhat of a “christening” of the commonwealth. Well maybe not, either way it was just a way of life at this point.

So it wasn’t exactly shock inducing whenever X6 saw your bleeding shoulder, however he was still damn concerned. As such, he ever so calmly removed your jacket while you weren’t paying attention- receiving a startled gasp in return..as well as a pained grimace that made him flinch. With a sigh he’d shake his head, reassuring you before looking up and requesting teleportation back to the institue where he’d personally escort you to the nearest medical personnel.

[freedmfighter]

in defense of “but jet tried to drown an innocent village”

that “innocent village” had been a fire nation military outpost for years industrializing utilities to further aid imperialism while enacting on colonialism, which was implied by the so-called “innocent old man” in the forest who was decked out in fire nation gear, if not armor to suggest he was one a solider, who in that space was not only a natural state of violence being a colonizer, but also the implication he once acted on a physical violence in order to be there and drive out how that could have been an earth kingdom ACTUALLY innocent old man. the sheer ignorance portrayed in sokkas flashback that was conveniently washed out of color so you couldnt actually see what culture was prevalent in that space, which was probably mostly fire nation. This method was done to symbolize it didnt matter what colors those people wore, they were still meant to be presented as “innocent lives”. however, in another flashback, you do see a group of earth kingdom villagers, but I think this was in poor taste and inaccurate to the situation at hand because being a military outpost, they were the oppressors and it DID matter that they should have been depicted as so, and not depicting that properly and not displaying the truth which was it WAS A MILITARY OUTPOST literally shaped the way audiences thought jet was wiping out 99% of innocent lives for the sake of a 1% on top of it. regardless, this 1% managed to have the power to oppress a 99%. There was a power structure going on, and it was clear who had the upperhand. 

let’s emphasize that oppressers cannot be oppressed. 

By every way Jet exists, the fire nation influenced him as it stripped him from his family, his friends, his culture. The way he acts, talks, dresses and even fights was plagued by the fire nations invasion on his land. There was no gentle method of driving out that sort of violence. There was no way of warning a 1%. They didnt even believe sokka until a fire nation civilian amplified and validated his voice. Not to mention this village did absolutely nothing to help the freedom fighters, why would they owe them anything? Theres such a “holier than thou” mentality because people refuse to step in the others shoes, but simply because they want to simplify a situation that is far from simple, or at least in its simplicity ends up driving an uncomfortable conversation. Yes, Jet has his faults. Yes, the destroying of the dam and peace is a preferable option; he just didnt have the luxury of a thing called peace. He only knew the effects of genocide, fear, and a growing population of people who only set out to hurt him. 

Jet isnt “pro genocide”, hes ANTI-GENOCIDE and im tired because I’ve heard people claim hes no better than the fire nation. These people dont realize not only the effects of PTSD, but also the effects of colonialism. The Fire Nation killed in order to exercise that they thought themselves better than the rest of the world. They exercised their power over other nations and sought death for the sake of taking more space. “all was fine until the fire nation attacked.” Jets method of violence was rooted in liberation, and by all means.

Jet wanted to avenge his people and when sokka says something along the lines of “who are you freeing? theyd all be dead.” does drive a point, but its also ignorant towards all the things sokka wasnt aware of and didnt look into. The freedom fighters were made up of survivors, there are hopefully other survivors. Yes, there is a way this is impulsive because he didnt have other survivors to validate his vision. It was just hope he was doing something productive. It was hope for a new beginning. It was hope he could be a hero in the face of so much displacement and loss. 

By creating jet as an equal villain, it’s in poor taste. Everyone loves an anti-hero until.. well :) Anyways, liberating =\= oppressing. Some great perspective quotes that I found useful in educating myself include some made by Malcolm X: “If you're not careful, the newspapers will have you hating the people who are being oppressed, and loving the people who are doing the oppressing.”  and “ You can't separate peace from freedom because no one can be at peace unless he has his freedom.”

- I hope I articulated this alright, all I know is how put off I am about some things I’ve read and am doing my best to educate myself because fiction reflects real life sometimes. I’ve tried really hard to see this from all angles, especially from the ones being oppressed. It’s tiring when people don’t bother to see this perspective. If anyone wants to give me their two cents, feel free to help me educate myself further. I’m absolutely not saying his method was perfect and in a completely moral/unproblematic stance. disclaimer:  i wrote this angry at 2am.

[missjackil]

The Winchester Family

This family is no doubt highly dysfunctional. The show doesn’t beat around the bush about it, we found this out in the Pilot episode. However what we normally get with TV is that dysfuntional families have to improve themselves before they can move past it. In real life though, our families are dysfuntional, and we learn to live with it, or if its too bad, we get out of it. 

John and Mary are every parent who loves their children but screwed up royally. Handling things wrong, getting angry and saying/doing the wrong thing, being confronted with a problem thats too big too handle, and trying to do it alone anyway, are things that happen to humans, and parents arent exempt. It doesnt make them unworthy of love. 

Sam and Dean are every child of messed up parents. They’re damaged and hurt. Maybe some things they’ll never forget, and they arent perfect either,  Theyve hurt each other, lied and betrayed each other, but they never stopped loving each other regardless. 

Do they blame their parents for some bad things in ther lives? Sure they do, and its justified, but it doesnt keep them from loving them, and didnt keep them from becoming amazing, loving, heroic men. Most importantly, they dont demand improvement before they show love. 

Sam broke my heart into a million peices when he talked to John alone. He is the most forgiving and empathetic person, true or fiction, that Ive ever seen, yet he still let Dad know “You did some MESSED UP things Dad” he let John know this wasnt alright, but he didnt refrain from telling him that its not what he remembers when he thinks of him. 

Forgiveness doesnt mean to forget, we are never required to forget. It also desnt mean to condone actions or behaviors. What forgiveness is, is looking past it and moving forward. 

I dont know why it is, that for some reason, we tend to hurt the people we love most. It’s not okay, but we do. Its not just the Winchesters, its not just my life, not just yours. Love isnt valid only if theres no pain involved. Dont let it prevent you from being as awesome as you can be. Dont let it make you selfish or self centered. Dont make people improve before you can show them you love them, maybe thats what they need to know before they can get better themselves. If you wait for everyone to be perfect before you can love them, you’re going to have a sad lonely life. 

[missmarquin]

Magnetic, Ch. 1

In the future, romantic attraction is literal: each person is fitted with an electromagnetic bracelet which will pull you to your soulmate. It's hard, wondering who's out there for you. It's harder yet, when you have to come to understand yourself first.

Read on A03, for best quality (Including proper italics and such!)

Domain

‘A magnetic domain is a region within magnetic material in which the magnetization is uniform in one direction.’

Eighteen was a big year for many, but turning twenty is what people truly waited for.

Otabek had never really given it much thought, he supposed. Amita might not have been his initial choice of who he’d want to spend his life with forever, but she had since grown on him-- not unlike a fungus. She was sharp and quick-witted, and he had to admit that his parents had made a good choice. Really, they had. He and Amita just worked together, their relationship didn’t require much effort.

So the ceremonious receiving of the Destiny Bracelet wasn’t so ceremonious for him. He didn’t want to fuck up something that was good for him.

“It’s such a stupid fucking name,” Yuri said through the phone screen. Amita rolled her eyes, as she held the phone out, and Otabek smirked back at the video feed. “ Destiny Bracelet . What is this, some shitty fucking rom-com?”

“Hey now,” Amita pouted, leaning around so Yuri could see her through the screen. “ Some people like shitty rom-coms.”

“I guess you’re allowed to,” Yuri said with a genuine smile. “You’re special though.”

Really, Otabek’s luck couldn’t be better. Yuri was the most important person in the world to him, at the end of things, and he fucking lovedAmita. They were practically partners-in-crime themselves.

“What’s the point anyhow?” Yuri continued griping. “ It’s not like you aren’t getting married regardless. You and Amita are stupidly in love.”

Otabek and Amita shared an amused glance, and he said, “Why not? It’s not like it’s going to hurt me, you know? Besides, Mom is curious.” Not his mom, just Mom, the woman who had seen Yuri once before instantly adopting him as her own. Much to the boy’s aggravation.

Yuri snorted, rolling his eyes. Otabek wasn’t sure that he was stupidly in love with Amita, but he was happy and honestly, that was more than he could ask for. There was a mild fear that the bracelet would want to pull him somewhere else, but many people ignored it anyway. The journey of finding that soulmate wasn’t worth it to some.

Otabek was okay with that. He wasn’t the kind for grand romantic gestures or sweeping adventures. It was less work to stay in his tidy little bubble, and it suited him.

“Are we all ready in here?” A voice piped from the doorway. Everyone turned to meet a middle-aged man, the proctor in charge of attaching and turning on the gizmo. Otabek nodded and he whisked into the room, settling into the rolling stool beside the bed.

“I was I could be there for this,” Yuri muttered. “I wish I could see the annoyance on your face, the moment that bracelet beeps.”

Such a Yuri thing to say and do, to take pleasure in the vexation of others.

“Someone has rehearsal to be at, you know,” Amita chided. “Someone scored a spot in the Bolshoi Ballet Company, so that someone needs to stay put and not burn bridges before they are even built.”

Yuri sighed and Otabek hid a smile behind a carefully placed cough. Yuri wouldn’t listen to him, but he would always listen to her, begrudging as it was.

“Hold out your arm now,” the proctor interrupted cheerfully. Otabek did as he was told and the man fitted a length of cool metal around his wrist. It wasn’t his first time seeing one and it wouldn’t be his last, but he was always surprised by how boring it looked. Just a simple chain of lightweight links, fitted with neat and elegant looking square. The way it worked was a carefully guarded secret, but it worked and that’s all people cared about.

The point of the Destiny Bracelet was to make people happy, not make money and so, the world-wide program had been adopted free of charge. Yuri had always said it was stupid, because it could have made billions. He wasn’t wrong.

“As you probably already know, there’s nothing really needed to know about it’s use,” the proctor said. “It’s waterproof and practically indestructible, so you don’t need to worry about that. It can easily be removed if so wished, and once put back on, instantly kicks into gear again. No fancy buttons or doohickies,” he finished with a laugh. “You ready?”

Otabek shrugged and the man took a thin little tool, about the size of a paperclip, and shoved it into the pin-sized hole on the square. The bracelet beeped, indicating that it was scanning.

The room waited with bated breath, but nothing seemed to happen.

“Beks?” Amita said gently, curiosity full on her face. “Anything?”

“Uh,” Otabek started, lifting his wrist slightly. “No? I don’t think?”

The proctor didn’t seem fazed though, asking, “No tingling sensations? No feeling of being tugged a certain direction?”

“No,” Otabek confirmed. “Nothing.”

“Well, that’s not unusual,” the man said. “It only comes to life if your partner’s bracelet is active. Give it some time and it will start to work, I promise.” He folded his hands into his lap neatly. “Any other questions?”

“Yeah,” Yuri said from the video call, “Who’s placing bets on when that fucking happens?”

Otabek shot Yuri a glare, but Amita burst into laughter. The proctor smiled, before standing and handing Otabek a flyer. “This should give you more in depth information, but don’t hesitate to call, okay?”

Otabek nodded and thanked him, before standing himself.

“Three months till your woman gets hers,” Yuri drawled, “Ten thousand rubles that hers lights up like a damn Christmas Tree in your direction.”

The thought of Amita’s bracelet reacting to his own was a nice thought, but a one-in-a-million chance. Otabek remained hesitant about it, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“We don’t use rubles,” Amita tittered, her lips pulled into a sarcastic smirk. “What’s that about in tenge, Otabek?”

“About fifty-six thousand,” he deadpanned, and half Yuri’s monthly salary. Amita pressed her finger to her chin in thought.

“I’ll accept the bet and raise it, Yuri,” she finally said, a gleam in her eye. “One hundred thousand tenge that his bracelet doesn’t do jack shit when mine is activated.” Amita came from old money and didn’t bat an eye at the outrageous amount.

Otabek started slightly at that, but Yuri was already accepting the challenge before he could process that she had bet against them.

“You’re on, you hag,” Yuri snapped. “It’s pretty fucked up to bet against your own romance though.”

“Plenty of people don’t go searching for their soulmate, Yuri,” she said with a shrug. “Many people already love someone else and stick with them. Otabek and I are no different.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Amita when she said it, but the both of them weren’t the kind to throw around something like lovelightheartedly. When they walked out of the building though, Amita’s hand reached out to find his, squeezing gently as they told Yuri goodbye.

It’s enough to believe that this might actually work.

It wasn’t.

Otabek didn’t know what was wrong with him when he finally came to that conclusion.

The more and more he thought about the silent bracelet on his wrist, the more he realized that he would be okay with it staying that way for the rest of his life. And that he would be a-okay with Amita wandering off and finding her own destined one.

Because honestly, the woman deserved it. She deserved more than a half-hearted romance with a man who just liked her. Like wasn’t the same as love. Otabek understood that now.

“Relationships are fucking useless,” Yuri groaned over the video call.

“I take it that the date didn’t go well then,” Otabek mused.

“It was great, until he tried to eat my face off like some sort of rabid dog. ” Yuri paused to make a disgusted sound. “You know, that was the first time I’ve kissed a dude and honestly I feel sorry for women. Men are disgusting.”

Otabek wasn’t sure what surprised him more-- that Yuri’s first kiss had apparently been with a woman, or that he had admitted that men were gross. “You told me he was gross before you went on the date,” he pointed out.

“Personality wise yes,” Yuri replied, “but Beka, have you seen his fucking calves?”

“Yes,” Otabek said. Yuri had shown him tons of pictures of the company, all the while complaining about every single member.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “You know, ignore that, it’s not like you’d ever fucking agree.”

It came out harsher than he meant, and Otabek mused at the irony of his statement. Otabek wouldn’t consider himself gay, but Yuri never failed to get under his skin when the time accounted for it. That moment wasn’t an exception, with his low-scooping neckline and hair falling around his face like spun gold.

Otabek promptly reminded himself that what he had with Amita was good enough, and not worth risking the only fucking friendship he had.

“So,” Yuri drawled and Otabek’s attention snapped back to him. “Less than a week until Amita get’s her little bracelet.”

Otabek smirked. “Regretting your bet yet?”

“Absolutely the fuck not. Everyone knows you two are disgustingly perfect. You’re almost as bad as the Piggy and Old Man.”

Otabek seriously doubted that, but laughed all the same.

“Are you worried?” Yuri asked.

“Not really,” Otabek said with a shrug.

“What if it’s not you?”

Otabek hesitated, but then said, “Not a problem. Like Amita said, many people stay with those they aren’t meant for. It’s not a bad thing.”

Yuri was quiet for a moment, regarding him carefully through the screen. Finally, he said, “You aren’t the type to do things half-way, Beka.”

It wasn’t a critique, it was the honest truth, and for once he didn’t know how to reply. But as soon as introspective Yuri had shown his face, he was gone, throwing out a dirty joke that he had heard from one of the pit musicians.  

After a long time of tossing jokes around and swapping stories, their call comes to its end. Yuri was clearly tired, eyelids drooping as he tucked into the hoodie that he stole from Otabek years ago.

Yuri had said his goodnight, about to end the call, when Otabek said something else.

“Would it make me a terrible person if I wanted her bracelet to point to someone else?” It wasn’t a planned question, or something he would have ever asked Yuri. His friend blinked slowly, his hand hovering over the keyboard of his laptop. “I wonder,” Otabek continued, “if I’m a horrible person because I might want to pull away.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Yuri finally said. “It makes you normal. Everyone questions their relationships. Sometimes people are constantly questioning them.” He paused and considered something else. “You’re lucky though, I think. Amita seems the kind of woman tough enough to handle rejection in the end. She’d slap a smile on her face and thank you.”

Yuri wasn’t wrong, and despite his heavy-handed worries, Otabek managed another smile before they ended the call for the night.

Otabek couldn’t dedicate time to be there, when Amita’s bracelet was activated. She came from old money, and despite working, she worked for her parents. They showered her with all the vacation and time off she could have ever wanted.

It wasn’t like Otabek’s family weren’t well of either-- that’s how they had met-- but he didn’t like to dip his hand into the cookie jar so to speak. He worked hard for his coin, and as a result had less leeway.

So that night, he had been in his garage, fixing up a vintage bike for a collector. It was dirty work, leaving him smeared with grease, but he loved it. The feel of the tools in his hand, the way that the engine whined when finely tuned to perfection.

Really, it was all could have ever asked for.

“I take it that it’s been a good day for you, Beks,” Amita said, stepping into his space quietly.

He swiped at his forehead and turned to smile at her, but she seemed distant and subdued. Slowly he dropped his hand, as he regarded her.

Amita fidgeted, she never fidgeted, and Otabek couldn’t help the crease that stretched across his forehead as he moved to speak. But she held her hand out and paused. And he saw the bracelet there, blinking gently in the dim light.

His didn’t blink at all, because it had no call.

She saw his gaze and moved her hand self-consciously, tucking her hair behind an ear. “It’s not strong,” she said, “the pull. Whoever it is isn’t close by. I’m not surprised though.”

“I-- I’m not either,” Otabek replied, but the words didn’t sound bitter. Nor was there dread in the pit of his stomach. If he had to be honest, he felt relieved.

Amita leaned against his workbench. “I know what we told Yuri, but--”

“But it’s not right,” Otabek finished, knowing that’s where she was going with this. He stood, wiping his dirtied hands on a spare rag in his pocket. He moved to lean next to her and she smiled sadly.

“It’s stupid, right? I mean, I want to marry you.”

“I would like that too,” Otabek said truthfully.

“But it isn’t… it’s not right,” she repeated. “I can’t really describe it any other way.” She sighed softly. “I couldn’t deny whoever your soulmate is, you, Otabek.”

He snorted at that. “I think it’s safe to say I’m doomed to be alone, Amita,” he replied lightheartedly. And that was probably the truth. Most bracelets activated within several months, and the longer it took, the less likely it ever would. He was past the point of holding his breath.

She turned to look at him, her eyes flashing. “Why on earth would you think that?”

Otabek rubbed at his neck nervously. “I don’t know, I’m just not the kind of person who does people, you know? I’ve been thinking more and more about it lately, and I think that the single lifestyle would suit me.”

Amita regarded him quietly, tapping her finger against her chin like she always did when she thought. “I think the problem Beks,” she finally said, “is that you just haven’t found your person yet. I would love to be them, but… it’s not fair.”

“Yeah, it’s not fair to you--”

“ To you,” she interrupted. Otabek blinked at her words, her conviction. “You deserve happiness as much as anyone else,” she said firmly.

Otabek breathed an uneasy sigh, rubbing at his neck again. “I’m not holding my breath, you know,” he finally said.

At that, she laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you too. Above all Otabek, you are practical.”

He managed a smile at that. “What will you do, then? Go after him?” He took her hand gently, pulling it closer to see the bracelet. All it did was blink, signaling that it was on.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure my parents would be happy. They love you.”

“They love you more,” he pointed out.

She hummed at that, before reaching up and cupping his chin in her hand. “I’ll always love you,” she said quietly. “Despite what this bracelet says, or yours, I’ll always love you. I’m just not the one meant for you, I think.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his brow sweetly. “Who knows? Maybe they’re closer than you think?” She smirked widely as she pulled back and let him go.

Otabek could think of one person that he wouldn’t mind, but those odds were heavily stacked against him. And he wasn’t the kind to dream.

Still, when she left him behind in his shop, his heart didn’t feel heavy. He thanked Amita for her unwavering friendship, knowing that he’d have it forever.

The first year after the break up had been weird.

Amita had decided to go West in the end, following the tug of her bracelet. Otabek had seen her off personally, hugging her tightly at the airport. They parted well, with light hearts and encouraging words. Otabek knew that they had made the right decision, no matter how disappointed their parents had been.

In turn, being alone had given him time to think.

The single life wasn’t so bad, he thought. Amita’s words about how he hadn’t found his someone yet floated around here and there, but he had chosen to mostly ignore them. It was easier worrying about himself, and devoting the time to come to understanding who he was.

Yuri told him that he was stupid, but didn’t press the issue.

The second year was better. The second year, Otabek discovered himself, exploring his freedom. He finally used that vacation time and savings, and hit the open roads on his bike. Not too far though gone, because he never missed his nightly calls with Yuri.

Yuri threw himself into ballet, constantly tired and bruised. And when he wasn’t punishing his body with grueling training regimes, he threw himself into shitty date after shitty date. No one seemed to stick, not that Otabek was surprised. Yuri was as prickly as a summer cactus, and his personality wasn’t much better. Not everyone could handle the abrasive man.

“A huge part of me doesn’t want to get the stupid bracelet, Beka,” Yuri complained one night during their call. His twentieth birthday was looming over them and in a few weeks, he’d know.

“You don’t have to get the bracelet, you know,” Otabek said, leaning back against his headboard. It was a late night and both of them were settling for bed.

Yuri sighed, sitting on his tony mattress with crossed legs. That night he wore baggy sweatpants and a wide-necked black shirt that showed off his collarbones--

Otabek distracted himself by taking a sip from the water cup on his side table.

“I thought about it, actually,” Yuri said. “But then you know, I also keep dating assholes, so clearly my method isn’t working out.”

Otabek raised an eyebrow at that. “Don’t date assholes then,” he chided, smiling.

Yuri rolled his eyes, before falling back against the bed. “How do you do it?” he asked. “How do you just… do your own thing?”

Otabek thought before he answered. “It’s taken time and a lot of thought,” he finally said. “And of course, Amita pushed me, I guess.”

“A cross-country trip to discover yourself doesn’t hurt either,” Yuri teased, and when Otabek looked back at him through the screen, he saw the smirk across his lips. Otabek smiled right back.

“I’ve thought about taking it off,” Otabek continued with, flicking at the metal on his wrist. Nearly three years later and it was still dead as a door nail. Frankly, Otabek had lost interest in waiting. “My soulmate doesn’t define me, you know?”

Yuri hummed quietly. “Don’t,” he finally said. “I mean, at least wait until it turns on, yeah?”

“It probably won’t, Yura,” Otabek sighed. “Studies show that most activate within the first year. I’m probably the rare case of never activates at all . And honestly, I’m cool with it.”

“Well I’m not,” Yuri scoffed. “You can’t tell me that someone doesn’t get Otabek Altin as a fucking soulmate, I won’t take it. You’re too cool to go it alone.”

“You literally said that you admire that about me.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re deserving.”

Otabek ran a hand through his hair gently. “You aren’t like me, Yura,” he finally said. “Even though you don’t like people, you crave their attention. You’d never be okay on your own.”

“I wouldn’t be alone though,” Yuri replied quietly. “I’ll always have you, you know.”

Otabek did know, and he smiled. “It’s taken me a long time to get to where I am, but I’m good now. Give yourself a chance too, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. There was a short pause, and then, “Do yourself a favor Beka. Don’t you take yours off either, okay?”

Otabek’s lips quirked into a smile. “Okay.”

“It’s a promise?”

“Always, Yura.”

Despite all of Otabek’s annoyance for his own bracelet, he was excited for Yuri.

He watched through the screen as Yuri sat on the exam table, twitching with apprehension. The phone must have been propped up against something.  “It’s stupid,” he snapped. “I should be at rehearsal, I should be running through forms, hell I’d rather be doing fucking squats.”

Otabek smiled at that. “It’s not the end of the world, Yura,” he said amused. “A few years ago, you were excited .”

“Yeah, until I realized what a drag dating is, and how disgusting men are.” He paused then, his face twisting into horror. “Beka, what if my soulmate is a woman? My life would be over!”

“It could be worse, you know,” he joked. “It could not work at all.” He raised his own wrist in response.

Yuri scowled at him, about to retort when the proctor came in. When requested to, Yuri stuck his arm out, the smooth skin pale against his dark shirt. Otabek watched as the man slipped the chain around his wrist, snapping it closed. And then the tool came out.

Yuri looked hesitant, but his eyes were bright as the man activated the bracelet.

But then they both fell quiet, watching. And then there was a little beep and Yuri’s bracelet blinked. He regarded it with an odd look.

“You know, I wish Amita were watching. I bet her smug ass would have enjoyed this.”

Before Otabek could retort though, there was another beep, this time not through the phone call. He froze and looked down, right as his bracelet flared to life.

[alicezan-ncgred]

Bleeding Red

Preface: I’ve been bitching around the bush of this long enough. So, I’ve been really silent on a bunch of stuff that’s been eating me alive which has made me both inactive and unproductive. I’m going to get straight to the point, starting off with the TL:DR from my post on my main blog. Context: An anon asked me if I was alright because I hadn’t updated in a while.

TL:DR You probably didn’t ask this to hear about all the bad shit of my life so here’s the short of it. No, I’m not doing fine. I will try get next weeks post out on time and I’ll work on making up on the lost posts. Updates will return regularly, ‘ite.

Time for the thick and thin of it.

Insecurity and being shafted: I’m stoic, even at my worst I won’t say anything. I’ll push through regardless of my current condition and since I’ve gone years like this, it’s not hard for me to do. In my real life situation, I’m currently in a place of social isolation. This has lead to a somewhat near reliance on Tumblr to be my social outlet. This present many issues.

The main one is that I’m quite the isolationist. This has only been reinforced by many interactions throughout the entirely of my life. Because of this, I can’t say I’ve ever had anything really more than two friends at a time. While in a way this has helped me express myself so well through writing, it’s come at the cost of social skill. I don’t talk to anyone.

With this kind of issue you could easily imagine that the THREE PEOPLE (four now, but very limited) to ever directly talk ended up in a way shafting me. The first blocked and disconnected with me without warning or reason. At this point we’ve been talking to each for about a month and we hit it off very well and then one day, silence. Never heard from them again. That fucked me up hard when I finally realized what happened.

The second person left during the Tumblr P**n Purge. We were talking about how to contact each other on other platforms and then they stopped responding. I had already given contact to other platforms of which they pinged me in any way. Another person that I trusted massively on here just abandoned me and I’m still hurting from that. Wasn’t fair at all.

Then the third person was someone that I been following for a while. This person is actually the reason that I’ve been putting this off for so long. I don’t want them to see this post but they will. I got an ask from them that ultimately turned out to be misinformation. I said I wasn’t mad but I was. I was so fucking angry about it and I’m still kinda mad, but I didn’t want problems. I still don’t. I just didn’t want them to worry about it. This will come back later.

I try my best to be as inoffensive as possible. The problem with that is that much of the things I believe or enjoy are highly divisive. Hell, even my own identity can be seen as offence. I’m bisexual, non-binary (I’m currently still questioning this. I might actually be gender fluid but in the overall scheme, that’s worse than being non-binary), and nonreligious. I’m in a very religious area so you I’m still “in the closet” about much of this IRL. I though it would better online but with how much people are saying bisexuality doesn’t exist, or that non-binary isn’t a valid gender (or that being gender fluid make you insane and you should be locked up) and all the hate people who say they are this are getting, the very community that’s supposed to accept me, HATES me. I had a bi pride flag icon last year during Pride Month. I never doing that ever again. It was terrible.

I’m trying my best to come out of my shell like I said I would when I made this blog but it seems I’m just crawling further into it. People I think I can trust keep setting me up to fall, people I know in real life won’t ever accept my existence if they knew who I really was, and my own mental health problem and self loathing are eating me alive. But that isn’t the total of it.

Crumbling Pillar: I’ve always ended up in the position where things were thrown onto me. In which no one wanted to do, I was stuck with. Because of this not only do I have a severe distaste being around my family (beyond everything mentioned before hand) but I grew to have a negative out look on everything. This effect is still quite obvious in my writings, especially my poems. Out of the 14 poems on my poem blog @washed-soul​, only one has a happy meaning.

The one happy poem was called dreams. Under a metaphor it talks about how a demon kept me trapped in a dark space. I start to get better and nearly break free before I have a negative relapse back to my old ways. The poems ends with the demon putting a end to itself leaving the nightmare in which it was keeping me in to slowly fade away, letting one crack of light peeking through to become a window to a door until one day I walk free. When writing this poem, I never thought I would find myself rebuilding the nightmare but that’s where I am.

I’m done with holding things together that other people have placed onto me. Because of this, issues have began showing in my private life. Issues that should’ve been solved decades ago are only now being addressed. This change in the status quo of my life has caused many issues in my productive and mood. Between everything else I’m too tired to do anything.

Is that a reason, is that an excuse. No it isn’t but it’s the best thing I got as a reason. I’m doing my damnedest to do the best I can but of course, when it comes to the thing that matter I just fall short. Big fucking whopha my intelligence and capability does me if I can’t use it for anything that means a damn.

Meaningless Triviality: I’m a very emotional person. I’m very strongly bound to my emotions and if everything above hasn’t given it away, my emotions are very negative prone. But it just doesn’t stop there, it goes back into my memories. I can only honestly place 3 happy memories for certain that aren’t either A) a dream or B) me escaping reality through my mind. Besides that, almost all my memories are negative. 

People like to throw around the word Nihilist to describe themselves because today's culture is very, god while I hate to use this word, edgy. For those who don’t know a Nihilist is someone who views the world as being completely  meaningless and reject all religious and moral principles. I very truly struggle with this outlook of life. It’s a daily for me to berate myself saying “just kill yourself” or “I want to die” or just shutting down and crumpling up while say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again. Hell, I did that while writing this. 

I take things very hard, even the slightest transgression. I’m so used to trying to make things perfect and because people have the image that I’m the smart one, the mature one, the capable one, I’m left with the over hanging expectation of excellence. Almost no room for margin of error or being human. Since I’m the silent type, I put up no challenge and work to meet it. Only time I get any praise for anything too. 

I guess as a little self promotion to my main blog, for those that have read the very first few updates of my main blog @the-truth-behind-redacted, or read Defiance’s character sheet, while The Machine and Defiance are separate character, they both share the name Machine. That in part is a reflect of said above expectation. How ravenous and inhuman it can be all under the guise of something human. Those characters are the two sides to the same coin. 

Remember how I said I try to be un-problematical and how I try to avoid any potential conflict. In the first segment I told on how I lied about my feelings just so another person didn’t have to worry over something that honestly, in hindsight, wasn’t even really a big deal. But I also said how it consumed me in anger. I just don’t want to bother anyone over anything. It’s part of the reason why I am writing this post, as some way of a self enforced rehab program to get better. 

This absolute consumption of negative emotion has pushed me into a non human state before. I hit a point of absolute mental exhaustion and in such a self enforced bubble of actual hatred I became completely apathetic. I felt numb to everything. I watched and heard of terrible things happening to people, and felt nothing. I watched people lives crumble before them leaving them nowhere to go and LAUGHED. “Just another worthless pathetic worm on this rotting carcass of a planet being hit with the hard reality that life doesn’t care for them. What whimsical pathetic bullshit they deluded themselves with to think otherwise.” This isn’t an exaggeration on how I thought, this is what I actually thought. Which brings me too.

The Mandatory Sob Story: Roll your eyes everyone and get the tiny violin. I guess in order for everyone to exactly understand the place I’m coming from when it comes to mental health I’ll have to detail my experiences. I have a long standing history with mental illness. I have professionally diagnosed OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, and visual and auditory hallucinations. I take 600 mg of Seroquel a day as well as Amitriptyline when needed. I’m also still currently in therapy to deal with said OCD, Bipolarism, Anxiety, Chronic Depression, the visual and auditory hallucinations, as well as Suicidal thoughts, and my Nihilism. There’s a reason to why I’m so god damn familiar with mental illness and treatment plans.  

OCD and Bipolarism run in my family on my fathers side. My Father’s Father had them, my Sister has them, my brother most likely has them (however he refuses to see a doctor because he uses said possible mental illnesses as a get out of jail free card. He doesn’t want to be treated and he has FUCKING ADMITTED IT), my father has them, and I have them. I, however, have the misfortune of having it real bad. I said yes to well over half of all the total symptoms when I was being tested (I don’t remember exact numbers but I remember there being three pages worth of common symptoms) which was very worrying to the doctor. I was currently in an inpatient hospitalization program at the time for both suicidal thoughts and actions, and severe depression. 

On that, my graze in with suicide. Before I went into my first inpatient program I was contemplating suicide. I was sat in front of a mirror with a bottle of over the counter medication. It was an unopened bottle of ibuprofen, 1000 200mg tables. What I planed to do was down the whole bottle with benadryl and die in my sleep. I had the small box of benadryl got from the Kroger pharmacy and a hand full of ibuprofen poured out looking directly into the mirror. My suicide note was sitting on the desk on my room with an online copy on my laptop open.

I sat there for an hour in the dead of midnight complicating my life. I had lost all hope in the world, filled with hatred, anger, pain, and despair. I had no god or after life to look forward too, part way hoping that a Hell existed for me to burn in. I hated myself that much. I was close to taking the first handful before before I caught a glimpse of my own eyes in the mirror. In what was in a weird sudden epiphany I realized that I truly did become what I hated but not for any reason I told myself. I became the very bastion of negativity I sought to fight and rid of in what little friends I did have. That was what set off my path to recovery in spite of the medical system. I guess if people care I’ll make a separate post on that. 

Before I move on, I feel I should explain my history with the visual and auditory hallucinations. It should be no surprise that with everything else above, I also had extreme paranoia that led to me having very bad insomnia. Insomnia is, just like most other medical disorders like Depression, Self-harm, Anxiety, OCD,  Bipolarism, is romanticized to hell. Insomnia isn’t having one nights bad sleep where you got 5 hours of sleep instead of 8.

You know what Insomnia is? insomnia is being physical incapable of sleeping despite not sleeping in 2 to 3 day while your body suffers massive agony brought on by this. Muscle spasms and seizing, difficulty breathing, your eyes feeling like fire ants are eating them, and of course visual and auditory hallucinations. Now I already had issues with visual and auditory hallucinations even when I could get sleep regularly but the combined effects of my OCD and Bipolarism made this perfect condition of Insomnia, Anxiety, Paranoia, with the already added in disposition to hallucinations and I felt like I was actually losing my mind. 

My hallucinations presented themselves in three forms. Disassociation of reality, night terrors, or alterations of reality. Disassociation of reality often were complete black out moments. I would lose any perceived connect to reality and enter an episode of my mind. I can’t remember what they actually were but I do remember what it felt like. Cold sweats, anxiety to point where if I didn’t lock up I would vomit, actual physical pain, mind numbing fear, and intense fatigue. 

The second were night terrors often in the form of horrific “things.” I do remember these and most of them were as best as I could describe, forms of things that were vaguely human and formations of industrial machinery. The most vivid one I remember was of a long lengthy apparition that was for the most part human but many locations of it’s impossible physiology were rebar beams and mechanical sockets. It began when I was about to fall asleep and it was next to my window. The thing was making week groaning and gasping sounds before it violently slammed against my window breaking it then letting out a horrific howl that I can’t describe as it tossed itself out followed shorty after with the sound of bones breaking against the dirt. 

Now that might not seem so bad, exspecally with everything that is in horror movies or games now, but keep in mind that was fucking real to me. It was as real as the clicking of the keys of my keyboard as I’m writing this. As real as the chair I’m sitting in and as real as the wall in front of me. As far as my mind was concerned that thing, what ever it was, actually existed. It took me physical touching my window to make sure it wasn’t actually broken and checking outside to see if there wasn’t a body there. This isn’t the type of thing I talk about lightly. 

Finally there is the alteration of reality. This is very simply but it’s something that fucked with me hard. For very little meaning or warning, I would have trouble interpreting the world around me. My hearing and sight would be warped and there wasn’t any real way to tell what I was hearing or seeing was real or not until the episode was over. The way I got through these was the ultimate fake it till you make it. Obviously, very often I failed and this created issue in my schooling. 

Ending Message: I’ve been in a very bad state for a while now and as it is now, no signs of getting better. I also strongly believe my medications are being to fail me which I’ve been telling my doctor and therapist for over a year now but nothing’s been done. Mainly it’s my Depression but insomnia episodes are beginning and my own paranoia been on the rise. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even look at a creepy image or thumbnail without having a very bad episode. 

I’ve managed to eat something today which was nice but my body is cramping hard. And to possible stave of a possible comment, I’m biologically male. Like I said I’m not in the best head space, or living for that matter. If this gets better, only time will tell. 

[matrixaffiliate]

Like the Storybooks

Co-written with @hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon​

FFN and AO3

(sorry everyone, my internet died as I was trying to post this)

Chapter 20

Sirius, as matter of habit, rose with the sun. He was already, to some extent, aware that Marlene did not. She would have to be woken by a lady’s maid in order to be on time for breakfast. But on that first day of their secret marriage, Sirius stayed in bed with the sleeping princess and just took in the sight of her. She’d cast off her shift entirely nearly as soon as her inner chamber door was shut behind them and hadn’t found instance in the interim to reclothe herself.

Though he’d certainly seen representation of the nude female form in paintings and sculptures, but this was a new experience. He had not expected that his life would include an extremely undressed heartbreakingly beautiful woman lying sleeping next to him. The the new day’s light peeked through the bed curtain, reflecting off her hair like a halo. He silently thanked the lord that his new wife slept deeply and well into the morning. The look on his face was probably worthy of all the ribbing he would take from the king and then some. But he couldn’t help it. He’d always contended that a princess like this should not, by all logic, have been a real person. He had only become more sure of this as he fell in love with the woman. He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her sleeping head.

She stirred. Little sounds escaped from her perfect mouth but none of them came together into anything that Sirius understood as language.

“Good Morrow, My Princess.”

Though he’d intended to remind her that they were meant to tell the king and queen about their marriage and beg their blessings, he forgot all about it as Marlene’s mouth found his.

The couple were not in attendance at breakfast that morning.

After a truly mortifying experience involving the Lady’s maid, Emmeline, Sirius was quite glad to be clothed and above suspicion that afternoon.

Eventually the opportunity presented itself for himself and Marlene to speak privately with the King and Queen.

After they’d made a show of propriety for lookers on, and were well out of earshot, Marlene took no prisoners in the endeavor.

“We’ve entered into a precontracted marriage. I assumed you’d be pleased with the match. It was rather late into the evening when the discussion came to pass, you see. Waiting until morning to beg your permission seemed both unnecessary and vexsom.” She was fearless in such a way that set Sirius’s pulse racing. The walls he’d carefully constructed around parts of his mind had come crashing down all at once and only hours ago. He was still adjusting to the fact he didn’t just love her; he was allowed to desire her. The whole thing was very distracting, to say the least.

James’s face was truly a sight as he took in the statement his cousin had matter of factly dolled out. He cycled through confusion to shock, onto mild disgust and finally to amusement. Sirius could have predicted the exact responses, but they were quite a lot of fun to watch, regardless.

“You broke through my knight’s chastity belt? I thought he had it soldered on.”

“Marriage tends to be the key to such things.” Marlene smirked at the King and then winked at the Queen who chuckled.

Sirius still had not said said anything up to that point. He’d expected that the king would make some sort of crack about the concept of chastity. He’d been a little too loud in his defense of the virtue being ideal in a knight for this to have gone any other way. It did not stop his face from heating up with embarrassment. Why did this have to be discussed? Couldn’t they just… talk of war or something? Surely they had enough battles to plan that this was all very silly?

He chided himself that he’d rather plan the demise of his own family, where good men would surely die, than tolerate a little embarrassment. Marlene, surely did not seem embarrassed in the least. She seemed quite pleased with herself.

Sirius no longer wanted to think about war, all he could think of was how very difficult this secret would be to keep. It was a battle unto itself to refrain from touching her.

“Am I to understand your mild insults as your blessings upon our union?” Sirius smirked, tearing his eyes away from his wife to meet his dearest friend and sovereign eye to eye.

“Yes many blessings and all that. But it’s not going to be popular with… nearly anyone… so I hope you have some sort of plan.” James turned to Marlene with a pained expression.

“I always have a plan, cousin.” Marlene rolled her eyes with a huff and Sirius restrained from kissing her as her eyes flashed dangerously. “You knew my mother. I’m ashamed you had any doubt.”

“I had no plan. Largely, I just do what her Grace tells me.” Sirius admitted, chuckling as Marlene regained her temper.

“Well that sounds like the start of a long and happy marriage to me. What’s the plan, your Grace?” Queen Lily’s warm smile reassured Sirius that he hadn’t stepped on any royal toes in making this rather hasty decision.

“It’s best if we keep our union a secret from the court until my husband returns to me a Duke.” Marlene moved to take Sirius’ arm and smiled at her own jest. She was making it very hard not to kiss her, and by the look on her face she knew it.

“Your instincts are good, cousin. I hope that you’ll advise me someday when the Chief Minister has decided she’s had quite enough. Though I am concerned that there will be rather glaring evidence of your marriage before we are able to take Semprapuria, at least with the current plan in place.” James looked pointedly at Marlene.

Sirius didn’t quite understand. Everyone was already meant to think that they were in love. What evidence could be so glaring that the whole court would become suspicious that the affair was more than courtly in nature? Before he put it together in his head, Marlene's voice chimed in.

“Worry about the fruitfulness of your own marriage cousin. Leave me to mine. I have contingencies worked out, in any case.”

James rolled his eyes, “Of course you do.”

Sirius could have kicked himself. He’d been rather preoccupied and had somehow failed to consider the fact that Marlene could be with child.

“Your Majesties,” Sirius heard the stilted formal tone to his own voice and nearly cringed. “Do we have your leave to go to Father Hagrid? I’d prefer we get this in the church records so there will be no questions as to the honor of the Princess.”

“My husband and I are of one mind. Is Father Hagrid a trustworthy holy man?”

“He’s been my confessor since I was 15. I trust him with my life” James answered without hesitation.

“Very well then. There’s no time like now.” Marlene looked up and nodded.

Sirius was very happy, in this instance, to follow the Princess’s lead.

Sirius pulled his boots off as he sat down on Marlene's - their - bed, and sighed contentedly.

“I’m so glad that everyone protested my idea to marry you off just after you arrived.”

Sometimes words just happened to Sirius. This was clearly one of those times. Though his statement was entirely true the look on Marlene’s beautiful face as she reacted was proof that they’d been completely inadvisable.

“You… what? You wanted to marry me off? This was never brought to my attention! Explain yourself, Sir!” Her attempt to look very angry was admirable. But there was still a hint of laughter in her eyes as she chided him, and standing there in her underskirt completely undermined her faux chagrin.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Sirius smiled and stood to walk up to her. “It wasn’t some wicked plot and it was to my own brother!”

“Well believe it or not that does not make it sound any better from my perspective.” Marlene's face became wide with shock. “In fact it makes it a sight more nauseating.”

“Oh come on, Marly…” He wrapped an arm around her waist and slid the other hand along her cheek. “All I knew about you was that you were the strangest lady I’d ever met and you considered me the most handsome gentleman at court.” He smirked down at her. “It seemed like a kindness to marry you to a man who bares a strong resemblance. I wasn’t aware that you’d only have the genuine article.”

“You are quite lucky Sir,” Marlene snaked her arms around his neck and Sirius knew he was in the clear, “that you are so very handsome. I don’t generally think I’d be over fond of the touch of a man who wanted to have me as his sister in law.” She rolled her vivid blue eyes. Her bitten lips curled themselves just so, into a most captivating smile. Sirius pulled her closer. The look in her eyes was fast becoming addictive. He lifted her shift from the bottom to tease soft caresses up the outside of her thigh.

“Well it does appear that I am lucky then. Because you seem more than a little fond of my touch.”

She only nodded and took in a sharp breath. Her eyes were so full of want as he brought his lips to hers. When she practically melted into his kiss, he knew that he was more than lucky.

They couldn’t have been asleep for long when a messenger burst into the Princess’s chambers. This was highly irregular. Therefore Sirius had to assume someone was there to harm Marlene and prepare to defend her with his own life… while completely naked. He’d always thought he’d die with a sword in his hand, but he’d not pictured it quite like this. Life had taken a turn for the strange when Princess Marlene came to live at court.

“I am not here to do anyone harm! I’m just a messenger!” The man cowered as Sirius pinned him against the wall, sword at his throat. “Lady McGonagall sent me to collect Sir Sirius! She says it’s… about your family? That’s all I know. I promise. Please lower your sword and… put on some clothing?” He said the last of his plea in a hushed voice.

“If you even think about saying anything about this you will regret it for the rest of your life, do you understand?” Marlene interjected in a disconcertingly threatening voice for a woman who had been screaming bloody murder not a moment ago. Though she was still standing naked as the day of her birth, she held herself with such authority that she might have been wearing her cousin's own crown.

There was no time to think. Sirius’s head was spinning as he quickly dressed and, since there was no going back from this in any case kissed his wife goodbye as he followed the messenger. He was sure whatever news awaited him was grim.

[wynndygoon]

Watch Korra

As many of you know from a few of my previoud posts, The Legend of Korra series is one of my absolute favorite animated series of all time, and that i would highly recommend everyone watch it since there is something there for everyone. All people regardless of heritage, sexuality, gender, and age can take something away from it, but the part that stands out the most isn't the messages from each book or the views held by each character, but instead how story telling is an intricate art that must be handled delicately. Not only so the show could be more enjoyable, but also ao you can see the intricacies of each charcter and their relationships with each other.

There is no denying that Korra and Avatar were both groundbreaking shows for American audiences and especially for children who grew up watching them. Touchy topics such as faith, life and death, trust, companionship, etc were all at the foreground of both series and were there to also further the plot and character development. While Avatar was great, Korra has been more progressive with its topics that it chose to deal with, mainly political/world views and even sexuality.

Even though I do not find myself in the LGBT community, I have more than enough friends and family who are in the community, and sure, i'll admit i wasnt perfect, i used to not speak to people that associated with the LGBT community because i grew up very conservatively, but ive changed my viewpoints and learned to accept people the way they are, not by things such as race, gender, sexuality, but instead by their character and who they show themselves to be.

It is always amazing to see more and more people also opening up to the idea that the world is more progressive these days. People in the LGBT community are being represented more and more in media and honestly, that's amazing! Im all for it, because why should they hide their lifestyle just because a bunch of stubborn people too set in their ways to see this change as a good thing tell them they should? It's not right and it is thankfully being turned around.

I know it seems i got off topic here, but bear with me. In television, animation, and video games, there are a few characters here and there who are confirmed gay, but the one that i think no one expected when the series started was Korra, and good on the creators for reinforcing the fact that Korra and Asami are in a relationship. I know that must have put the hurt on some long time fans of the Avatar series who cant keep up with the times and are not accepting. The only thing that i wish they did differently was they could have had the relationship between Korra and Asami be more pronounced and lasted longer than the final 30 seconds of the last episode. Im not complaining, but seriously, they are too cute of a couple to not have their relarionship tied into just a few more epsiodes.

Korra, with all of the appeal that the show has, is massively under-rated because people write it off as a cash in for nostalgia, however, if you talk to anyone who is a fan of the series, they will tell you how wrong that opinion is. This show is progressive, fun, and has most definitely opened up more eyes and opened up more hearts to the LGBT community to see them in a better light than what other media has done.

People of all ages who watched the show to the end were left in surprise over the bold idea to make a Nickelodeon tv show have a confirmed lesbian protagonist, and honestly, i applaud them for that decision. They saw the opportunity, they took it, and hopefully changed a few hearts along the way and made people that were too scared to be themselves to open up.

Seriously, this show is just amazing!

[brownthrussy]

1-85

Wade you got me fucked up smfh jk

1.) Are looks important in a relationship?:To some extent yes, since its kinda a attention grabbed. Eventually the personality is what becomes more important.

2.) Are relationships ever worth it?:Most are, as long as they’re healthy, but some are better off ending.

3.) Are you a virgin?:I hope my mom doesn’t see, but no. If my mom ever sees this then hell yeah I am lmao.

4.) Are you in a relationship?:Surprisingly yes

5.) Are you in love?:Considering my lack of love interests and mainly unhealthy relationships surrounding me, its hard to tell for myself but I believe I am yeah

6.) Are you single this year?:Jeez I hope not lol

7.) Can you commit to one person?:Yes.8.) Describe your crush:Hmm normal lenght hair, dark eyes, average height and thicc

9.) Describe your perfect mate:Sounds similar to 8 but I guess someone I can be comfortable and relate with.

10.) Do you believe in love at first sight?:No lmao im pretty sure thats a crush.

11.) Do you ever want to get married?:It’d be nice someday so sure lol

12.) Do you forgive betrayal?:Depends on the situation and how the person thats asking for forgiveness acts. If they learned their lesson and understand what they did wrong then I could forgive possibly but if not then no.

13.) Do you get jealous easy?:No lol its cause im bad at taking hints so I cant tell when someones hitting on me or el bae

14.) Do you have a crush on anyone?: Mi novio lol

15.) Do you have any piercings?:Nope lol

16.) Do you have any tattoos?:Nah lol

17.) Do you like kissing in public?:Nah lol i dont like being the center of attention

ERROR: 18 and 19 DOESN’T FUCKING EXIST??

.

20.) Do you shower everyday?:Si

21.) Do you think someone has feelings for you?: Well I hope my bf likes me lmao

22.) Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?: hmm its possible so sure lol

23.) Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat?: Well i’ve been doing it so yeah lol

.

24.) Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years?: i don’t think so but hey who knows what future me will do lol

25.) Do you want to be in a relationship this year?: i want to keep it so yes lol

26.) Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you?: Si

27.) Has someone ever written a song or poem for you?: Not that I know of lol

28.) Have you ever been cheated on?: Officially no, but I had a few suspicions from my ex so it wouldn’t surprise me

29.) Have you ever cheated on someone?: No

30.) Have you ever considered plastic surgery? If so, what would you change about your body?: I’m ok really lol

31.) Have you ever cried over a guy/girl?: lmfao yes sadly.

32.) Have you ever experienced unrequited love?: Yeah. With my “ex”, we weren’t officially in a relationship we were just dating.

33.) Have you ever had sex with a man?: no homo but yeah lol

34.) Have you ever had sex with a woman?: tbh i just don’t support that lifestyle… i have straight friends tho so es cool

35.) Have you ever kissed someone older than you?: si

36.) Have you ever liked one of your best friends?: Nah lol I love them in a platonic way

37.) Have you ever liked someone who your friends hated? No lol

38.) Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to? Yeah lifes pretty wild

39.) Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?: yeah lmao its terrible 0/10 would not recommend

40.) Have you ever written a song or poem for someone? No im not an artistic person

41.) Have you had sex sex so far this year? Si but im staying a virgin til marriage

42.) How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander? Depends on the mood I guess???

43.) How long was your longest relationship? Lmao the current one so almost a year!

44.) How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? 1 lol

45.) How many people did you kiss in 2011? Lmfao 0 I was an awkward disaster back then. Now i’m slightly less but with a better fashion sense.

46.) How many times did you have sex last year? Idk I wasnt counting lol but life fucked me over alot so that counts too right?

47.) How old are you? Believe it or not, but i’m 21 lol

48.) If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say? Well rip my relationship then but it’d be something like “she ain’t ugly but she ain’t me”

49.) If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, what is your favorite thing about him/her? Hmm I like the attentiveness and los jokes

50.) If your first true love knocked on your door with an apology and presents, would you accept? If its just forgiveness then probably yeah. Regardless im taking the presents tbh as compensation

51.) Is there a boy/girl who you would do absolutely everything for? Yes

52.) Is there anyone you’ve given up on? Nah they usually leave me first before I can say im done

53.) Is there someone mad because you’re dating/talking to the person you are? No lol my business is my own

54.) Is there someone you will never forget? My ex and former close friends tbh

55.) Share a relationship story: well we went to olive garden cause I had never gone. So I was feeling like a rich white woman cause it looked fancy and the waited asked if he could toss the salad for us. My stupid ass thought he either meant in a sex term or literally flipping it. Guess what I mentioned out loud. So homeboy leaves and I realize I can never return here without realizing that i assumed that the waiter wanted a fucking threesome because I spend too much time looking at memes smh. Oh and he spilled drinks on the people next to us including this lady and her phone so guess who got tipped good cause id die if i were in his position smh. Moral of the story is this is why I shouldnt go out

56.) State 8 facts about your body: I have a fat stomach, yet skinny arms and legs lol, i got a birthmark by my right shoulder that looks like hawaii apparently, if one hand moves the other tends to attempt to do the same thing, i got my apendix removed, theres a scar from said surgery on it, I barely have body hair but it grows quick, i accidently stabbed myself with a led pencil. The led remains up to today

57.) Things you want to say to an ex: Someone is contradicting themselves lmao sorry for not being what you wanted but you could’ve treated me like a decent human being. But I guess im unreasonable for wanting trust and communication lol oh well

58.) What are five ways to win your heart?: food, pokemon, more video games, trying ya best and being direct with one another.

59.) What do you look like? (post a picture!): so like do i post a new selfie in a seperate post or???? Eh ill do that later

60.) What is the biggest age difference between you and any of your partners? 6-7 years 😥 lol

61.) What is the first thing you notice in someone? How they react to situations lol says alot as a first perspective

62.) What is the sexiest thing someone has done for/ to you? Bought me food 😍

63.) What is your definition of having sex? Well it involves a penis usually afjvhadaish

64.) What is your definition of cheating? Well besides doing it physically, by lying to your S/O about not seeing anyone else and talking to others with the intention of cheating

65.) What is your favorite foreplay routine? Loving jesus

66.) What is your favorite roleplay? Reading the bible together.

67.) What is your idea of the perfect date? It involves eating, going out doing anything since anything can be fun if you’re with the right person. If it gets everything that is stressful about life and makes it seem irrelevant at the moment then this is the moment

68.) What is your sexual orientation? No homo but men are ok. So un homosexual

69.) What turns you off? Well acting like a child or being rude and dismissive.

70.) What turns you on? Communication and trust can I get an amen

71.) What was your kinkiest wet dream? Ok so there I am in battle wearing regular armor but with channel boots and I destroy my enemies by walking on them since they wronged me. There’s also lesbians.

72.) What worlds do you like to hear during sex? Are you feeling it now, Mr.Krabs???

73.) What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you? Anything really, its mainly the thought that matters

74.) What’s the most superficial characteristic that you look for? Hmm facial features and eyes lol

75.) What’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you? Gave me the pink power ranger pop lol my girl

76.) What’s the sweetest thing you have ever done for someone? I gave a rare pop as a gift for christmas. It cost $50 lmfao

77.) What’s your opinion on age differences in relationships? As long as its legal and consensual then its alright

78.) What’s your dirtiest secret? Dont got any lol not any that come to mind atleast

79.) When was the last time you felt jealous? Why? Idk middle school lol crush had the nerve to talk to someone that wasnt me smh. Im glad i grew up and learned

80.) When was the last time you told someone you loved them? Whenever I see my best friend and hes about to do some dumb shit

81.) Who are five people you find attractive? So is this like from tumblr or anywhere?. Hmm theres mi novio, my best friend and fuck it like 3 of my mutuals lmao i almost tagged em

82.) Who is the last person you hugged? My younger sister

83.) Who was your first kiss? An old friend lol we dont talk no more

84.) Why did your last relationship fail? I have no idea. My ex was like “i gotta be alone” then pulled the “we’re different” card. And I figured it was both until my friend showed me that he was on tinder with an updated bio and photos that he had sent to me initially. So I guess ill never know lol

85.) Would you ever date someone off of the internet? Yeah why not lol if the connection is there

[samanthasroberts]

My Husband Isn’t My “Type”and He’s Definitely Not My Best Friend

“Is your husband really, truly your best friend? Really? Because mine isnt.”

ByRobin O’Bryant

Im going to need everyone who has posted a Facebook status along the lines of, Happy Anniversary to my best friend and the love of my life! to form a line, so that in an orderly fashion, I can walk down said line and thump each of you right in the middle of your foreheads.

Is your husband really, truly your best friend? Really?

Because mine isnt.

When people ask me how I met my husband, I usually just say, Church. You need to know someone pretty well before you say something like, God told me he was my husband and even though Im not used to hearing voices, I just went for it! Whats to lose, amiright?!

It was the summer of 1997, I was 19 years old and spending the break working in the office of a new evangelical church my mother had started attending.

My parents had just gone through a shocking divorce, and by shocking, let me just say that to this very day, almost 20 years after their divorce, Ive never heard my parents argue. Ever. They woke us up one fine Alabama Saturday morning and told us they had gotten a divorce a few weeks earlier and my dad was moving out. There was no warning shot fired, no attempt at counseling or reconciliation, just that one sucker punch when we werent paying attention. A year later, I broke up with my boyfriend of four years and my heart was still tender from both events.

Maybe I was naive to think I could bargain with God, but nevertheless, I laid out my terms in my journal:

Ill never give my heart away again. Im giving it to you. Maybe Im ridiculous to never want to date again, but if you could just give me a sign or something when I meet my husbandTHEN Ill date him and fall in love. I dont want to risk picking the wrong person again. After everything…I dont trust my own judgment. So a burning bush? Im not in a hurry. Im ready to go all Sister Mary Clarence about this (thats a Sister Act jokeGod gets me). So, please. Smoke signals? Something…

Before I headed back for the next semester, my older brother Matt and I decided to go to Texas for a Christian motorcycle rally with a family from our new church. (And yes, I do realize this story is getting weirder by the second.) It was kind of a Christian convention meets county fair/campgrounds, but with former Hells Angels who have converted and love JesusIm sure you have the perfect mental picture.

We borrowed a tent, loaded Matts car and joined a caravan of cars following the OBryant family to Texas. One of their sons, Zeb, was a year younger than me. But even if I hadnt been in my Sister Mary Clarence phase, I wouldnt have looked at him twice.

Zeb wasnt my type. My type was clean cut and all-American, the kind who wore lots of Polo shirts and khaki pants, possibly played golf and most definitely was a member of Key Club. Zeb rode a metallic blue 1976 Harley-Davidson everywhere he went, had a goatee that was a little longer than I thought sanitary and his naturally brown hair was bleached blonde and spiked in a manner not unlike Edward Cullensor Edward Scissorhands, for that matter.

Regardless, meeting Zeb began a weekend-long love affair with his vintage Harley-Davidson and Texas back roads. Every time Zeb jumped on his bike, hed give me a nod, Id hop on and wed take off. The rumble of the Harley and the twisting roads through the Hill Country almost hypnotized me. The wind blasted my face and ratted my hair as the sun warmed my jeans. I was careful to keep my hands gently on Zebs hips and to not lean too close against himSister Mary Clarence didnt want to inadvertently press any boobage against his back and give him the wrong idea.

We were sitting in a tent revival type of meetingfolding chairs and open air with the stars hanging low and lazy in the night sky. Our faces were still grey with the road dust and we smelled sweetly of sunshine and gasoline. I was sitting there with my Bible open on my lap when I had a crazy thought:

My husband is here somewhere…

My eyes scanned the crowd and as they did, they fell on Zeb, who was sitting to my right, ripped jeans and motorcycle boots propped on the chair in front of him. Now Im not saying I heard an audible voice, but something deep inside of me clearly shouted, Its him.

I knew from that moment on I would marry him. And its a damn good thing I was hearing voices that nightotherwise I wouldve totally missed it.

Zeb is my polar opposite. Hes an extrovert; Im an introvert. He loves nature and the outdoors; Ive wondered if I could get a PhD in Netflix. Hes calm, steady and always in a good mood. Im creative, a roller-coaster of emotions and quite franklyprone to hysterics.

I want a best friend who will tell me I need one more pair of shoes and a man who will remind me to save for my retirement account. I want to call my best friend when I feel Ive been wronged and hear her say, What a b*tch! I cant believe she said that to you! I want to be married to a man who says, Who gives a sh*t what she thinks? And I want to get into bed at night with a man who ignites things in me no one else can.

Zeb isnt my best friend.

I have never been so angry at my best friend that I fantasized about throwing a lamp or other miscellaneous piece of furniture at her head. I cant say the same for ole Zeb. For example, once our 3-year-old had walking pneumonia. Sadie was running a fever, listless and refused to drink anything. I tried all manner of juices, an assortment of sippy cups and silly straws all to no avail.

Zeb, will you go to the store and get some Popsicles? I asked.

Do you really think she needs sugar when shes this sick?

I think she needs any type of fluid she can get down because shes going to get dehydrated. So yes, I think she needs Popsicles. I replied.

Give her some water, Zeb advised.

I HAVE.

Try some juice.

Really Zeb? Ive tried everything. Thats why I need Popsicles. I was starting to get pretty pissed.

I just dont think she needs sugar. He said, again.

Noted. Now go to the store and get Popsicles. Please. I said please out loud but in my head I was screaming, YOU SOB!

He was as mad as all get out, but he went to the storevictory was mine! Sadie would be hydrated! All was well with the world…until he walked in the door carrying a box of 200 Otter Pops that werent even frozen.

Is this really happening?! I yelled, What the hell? POPSICLES, Zeb! Why is that so hard?

These ARE Popsicles! He yelled back.

No they arent! Theyll be Popsicles in 36-48 hours but they are most certainly NOT Popsicles right now! Why didnt you get frozen ones?

He looked me straight in the eye and said, I didnt know you could buy them that way.

Are you sure thats how you want to play this? Do you really want me to believe youre that stupid? I asked.

I dont know that Ive ever been so completely filled with rage. Over freaking Popsicles.

But thats the way it is with me and Zebwe are passionate and stubborn. Sometimes I think I might see myself on an episode of Dateline, Josh Mankiewicz strolling down our street as a camera pans wide and says,In the small town of Greenwood, Mississippi, everything looked perfect for Zeb and Robin OBryant…until one day, in a fit of rage, Robin did the unthinkable…

But then, in a split second, Zeb is there with eyes the exact same amber brown assunshine filtered through a beer bottle. He wraps his arms around me while Im standing at the stove cooking dinner. Hekisses my neck and his beard tickles my skin, Sorry, he whispers. And I melt.

Zeb isnt my best friend. Depending on the movie I want to see, Ill ditch him in a second for my girlfriends. But when things gets real, I dont care if anyone is standing with me but him. Hes my partner, my equal and without a doubt, my better half. Zeb is the peanut butter to my jelly, the yin to my yang, the spiritual Xanax to my eight-ball of coke.

Im also going to need all of you people who say, Thanks for the best 15 years of my life! to stand in a separate corner and await your own punishment, because marriage isnt easy, and it most certainly isnt all happy.

Id rather say:

I really appreciate you driving me to therapy every week.

Thanks for not leaving me when I act like a lunatic.

“Thanks for acting like you thought I was sexy for the last 16 years even though Ive gained and lost hundreds of pounds and my stretch marks look like a topographical map of the Rocky Mountains.

I have lots of friends, hell, I even have lots of best friends…but there is and will always be, only one Zeb. Hes my husband and thats enough.

About the Author: Robin O’Bryant is the The New Times best-selling author of Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves. You can follow her on FaceBook as Robin O’Bryantor Twitter.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/10/my-husband-isnt-my-typeand-hes-definitely-not-my-best-friend/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/06/10/my-husband-isnt-my-typeand-hes-definitely-not-my-best-friend/

[jimdsmith34]

My Husband Isn’t My “Type”and He’s Definitely Not My Best Friend

“Is your husband really, truly your best friend? Really? Because mine isnt.”

ByRobin O’Bryant

Im going to need everyone who has posted a Facebook status along the lines of, Happy Anniversary to my best friend and the love of my life! to form a line, so that in an orderly fashion, I can walk down said line and thump each of you right in the middle of your foreheads.

Is your husband really, truly your best friend? Really?

Because mine isnt.

When people ask me how I met my husband, I usually just say, Church. You need to know someone pretty well before you say something like, God told me he was my husband and even though Im not used to hearing voices, I just went for it! Whats to lose, amiright?!

It was the summer of 1997, I was 19 years old and spending the break working in the office of a new evangelical church my mother had started attending.

My parents had just gone through a shocking divorce, and by shocking, let me just say that to this very day, almost 20 years after their divorce, Ive never heard my parents argue. Ever. They woke us up one fine Alabama Saturday morning and told us they had gotten a divorce a few weeks earlier and my dad was moving out. There was no warning shot fired, no attempt at counseling or reconciliation, just that one sucker punch when we werent paying attention. A year later, I broke up with my boyfriend of four years and my heart was still tender from both events.

Maybe I was naive to think I could bargain with God, but nevertheless, I laid out my terms in my journal:

Ill never give my heart away again. Im giving it to you. Maybe Im ridiculous to never want to date again, but if you could just give me a sign or something when I meet my husbandTHEN Ill date him and fall in love. I dont want to risk picking the wrong person again. After everything…I dont trust my own judgment. So a burning bush? Im not in a hurry. Im ready to go all Sister Mary Clarence about this (thats a Sister Act jokeGod gets me). So, please. Smoke signals? Something…

Before I headed back for the next semester, my older brother Matt and I decided to go to Texas for a Christian motorcycle rally with a family from our new church. (And yes, I do realize this story is getting weirder by the second.) It was kind of a Christian convention meets county fair/campgrounds, but with former Hells Angels who have converted and love JesusIm sure you have the perfect mental picture.

We borrowed a tent, loaded Matts car and joined a caravan of cars following the OBryant family to Texas. One of their sons, Zeb, was a year younger than me. But even if I hadnt been in my Sister Mary Clarence phase, I wouldnt have looked at him twice.

Zeb wasnt my type. My type was clean cut and all-American, the kind who wore lots of Polo shirts and khaki pants, possibly played golf and most definitely was a member of Key Club. Zeb rode a metallic blue 1976 Harley-Davidson everywhere he went, had a goatee that was a little longer than I thought sanitary and his naturally brown hair was bleached blonde and spiked in a manner not unlike Edward Cullensor Edward Scissorhands, for that matter.

Regardless, meeting Zeb began a weekend-long love affair with his vintage Harley-Davidson and Texas back roads. Every time Zeb jumped on his bike, hed give me a nod, Id hop on and wed take off. The rumble of the Harley and the twisting roads through the Hill Country almost hypnotized me. The wind blasted my face and ratted my hair as the sun warmed my jeans. I was careful to keep my hands gently on Zebs hips and to not lean too close against himSister Mary Clarence didnt want to inadvertently press any boobage against his back and give him the wrong idea.

We were sitting in a tent revival type of meetingfolding chairs and open air with the stars hanging low and lazy in the night sky. Our faces were still grey with the road dust and we smelled sweetly of sunshine and gasoline. I was sitting there with my Bible open on my lap when I had a crazy thought:

My husband is here somewhere…

My eyes scanned the crowd and as they did, they fell on Zeb, who was sitting to my right, ripped jeans and motorcycle boots propped on the chair in front of him. Now Im not saying I heard an audible voice, but something deep inside of me clearly shouted, Its him.

I knew from that moment on I would marry him. And its a damn good thing I was hearing voices that nightotherwise I wouldve totally missed it.

Zeb is my polar opposite. Hes an extrovert; Im an introvert. He loves nature and the outdoors; Ive wondered if I could get a PhD in Netflix. Hes calm, steady and always in a good mood. Im creative, a roller-coaster of emotions and quite franklyprone to hysterics.

I want a best friend who will tell me I need one more pair of shoes and a man who will remind me to save for my retirement account. I want to call my best friend when I feel Ive been wronged and hear her say, What a b*tch! I cant believe she said that to you! I want to be married to a man who says, Who gives a sh*t what she thinks? And I want to get into bed at night with a man who ignites things in me no one else can.

Zeb isnt my best friend.

I have never been so angry at my best friend that I fantasized about throwing a lamp or other miscellaneous piece of furniture at her head. I cant say the same for ole Zeb. For example, once our 3-year-old had walking pneumonia. Sadie was running a fever, listless and refused to drink anything. I tried all manner of juices, an assortment of sippy cups and silly straws all to no avail.

Zeb, will you go to the store and get some Popsicles? I asked.

Do you really think she needs sugar when shes this sick?

I think she needs any type of fluid she can get down because shes going to get dehydrated. So yes, I think she needs Popsicles. I replied.

Give her some water, Zeb advised.

I HAVE.

Try some juice.

Really Zeb? Ive tried everything. Thats why I need Popsicles. I was starting to get pretty pissed.

I just dont think she needs sugar. He said, again.

Noted. Now go to the store and get Popsicles. Please. I said please out loud but in my head I was screaming, YOU SOB!

He was as mad as all get out, but he went to the storevictory was mine! Sadie would be hydrated! All was well with the world…until he walked in the door carrying a box of 200 Otter Pops that werent even frozen.

Is this really happening?! I yelled, What the hell? POPSICLES, Zeb! Why is that so hard?

These ARE Popsicles! He yelled back.

No they arent! Theyll be Popsicles in 36-48 hours but they are most certainly NOT Popsicles right now! Why didnt you get frozen ones?

He looked me straight in the eye and said, I didnt know you could buy them that way.

Are you sure thats how you want to play this? Do you really want me to believe youre that stupid? I asked.

I dont know that Ive ever been so completely filled with rage. Over freaking Popsicles.

But thats the way it is with me and Zebwe are passionate and stubborn. Sometimes I think I might see myself on an episode of Dateline, Josh Mankiewicz strolling down our street as a camera pans wide and says,In the small town of Greenwood, Mississippi, everything looked perfect for Zeb and Robin OBryant…until one day, in a fit of rage, Robin did the unthinkable…

But then, in a split second, Zeb is there with eyes the exact same amber brown assunshine filtered through a beer bottle. He wraps his arms around me while Im standing at the stove cooking dinner. Hekisses my neck and his beard tickles my skin, Sorry, he whispers. And I melt.

Zeb isnt my best friend. Depending on the movie I want to see, Ill ditch him in a second for my girlfriends. But when things gets real, I dont care if anyone is standing with me but him. Hes my partner, my equal and without a doubt, my better half. Zeb is the peanut butter to my jelly, the yin to my yang, the spiritual Xanax to my eight-ball of coke.

Im also going to need all of you people who say, Thanks for the best 15 years of my life! to stand in a separate corner and await your own punishment, because marriage isnt easy, and it most certainly isnt all happy.

Id rather say:

I really appreciate you driving me to therapy every week.

Thanks for not leaving me when I act like a lunatic.

“Thanks for acting like you thought I was sexy for the last 16 years even though Ive gained and lost hundreds of pounds and my stretch marks look like a topographical map of the Rocky Mountains.

I have lots of friends, hell, I even have lots of best friends…but there is and will always be, only one Zeb. Hes my husband and thats enough.

About the Author: Robin O’Bryant is the The New Times best-selling author of Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves. You can follow her on FaceBook as Robin O’Bryantor Twitter.

source http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/10/my-husband-isnt-my-typeand-hes-definitely-not-my-best-friend/ from All of Beer http://allofbeer.blogspot.com/2017/06/my-husband-isnt-my-typeand-hes.html

[adambstingus]

My Husband Isn’t My “Type”and He’s Definitely Not My Best Friend

“Is your husband really, truly your best friend? Really? Because mine isnt.”

ByRobin O’Bryant

Im going to need everyone who has posted a Facebook status along the lines of, Happy Anniversary to my best friend and the love of my life! to form a line, so that in an orderly fashion, I can walk down said line and thump each of you right in the middle of your foreheads.

Is your husband really, truly your best friend? Really?

Because mine isnt.

When people ask me how I met my husband, I usually just say, Church. You need to know someone pretty well before you say something like, God told me he was my husband and even though Im not used to hearing voices, I just went for it! Whats to lose, amiright?!

It was the summer of 1997, I was 19 years old and spending the break working in the office of a new evangelical church my mother had started attending.

My parents had just gone through a shocking divorce, and by shocking, let me just say that to this very day, almost 20 years after their divorce, Ive never heard my parents argue. Ever. They woke us up one fine Alabama Saturday morning and told us they had gotten a divorce a few weeks earlier and my dad was moving out. There was no warning shot fired, no attempt at counseling or reconciliation, just that one sucker punch when we werent paying attention. A year later, I broke up with my boyfriend of four years and my heart was still tender from both events.

Maybe I was naive to think I could bargain with God, but nevertheless, I laid out my terms in my journal:

Ill never give my heart away again. Im giving it to you. Maybe Im ridiculous to never want to date again, but if you could just give me a sign or something when I meet my husbandTHEN Ill date him and fall in love. I dont want to risk picking the wrong person again. After everything…I dont trust my own judgment. So a burning bush? Im not in a hurry. Im ready to go all Sister Mary Clarence about this (thats a Sister Act jokeGod gets me). So, please. Smoke signals? Something…

Before I headed back for the next semester, my older brother Matt and I decided to go to Texas for a Christian motorcycle rally with a family from our new church. (And yes, I do realize this story is getting weirder by the second.) It was kind of a Christian convention meets county fair/campgrounds, but with former Hells Angels who have converted and love JesusIm sure you have the perfect mental picture.

We borrowed a tent, loaded Matts car and joined a caravan of cars following the OBryant family to Texas. One of their sons, Zeb, was a year younger than me. But even if I hadnt been in my Sister Mary Clarence phase, I wouldnt have looked at him twice.

Zeb wasnt my type. My type was clean cut and all-American, the kind who wore lots of Polo shirts and khaki pants, possibly played golf and most definitely was a member of Key Club. Zeb rode a metallic blue 1976 Harley-Davidson everywhere he went, had a goatee that was a little longer than I thought sanitary and his naturally brown hair was bleached blonde and spiked in a manner not unlike Edward Cullensor Edward Scissorhands, for that matter.

Regardless, meeting Zeb began a weekend-long love affair with his vintage Harley-Davidson and Texas back roads. Every time Zeb jumped on his bike, hed give me a nod, Id hop on and wed take off. The rumble of the Harley and the twisting roads through the Hill Country almost hypnotized me. The wind blasted my face and ratted my hair as the sun warmed my jeans. I was careful to keep my hands gently on Zebs hips and to not lean too close against himSister Mary Clarence didnt want to inadvertently press any boobage against his back and give him the wrong idea.

We were sitting in a tent revival type of meetingfolding chairs and open air with the stars hanging low and lazy in the night sky. Our faces were still grey with the road dust and we smelled sweetly of sunshine and gasoline. I was sitting there with my Bible open on my lap when I had a crazy thought:

My husband is here somewhere…

My eyes scanned the crowd and as they did, they fell on Zeb, who was sitting to my right, ripped jeans and motorcycle boots propped on the chair in front of him. Now Im not saying I heard an audible voice, but something deep inside of me clearly shouted, Its him.

I knew from that moment on I would marry him. And its a damn good thing I was hearing voices that nightotherwise I wouldve totally missed it.

Zeb is my polar opposite. Hes an extrovert; Im an introvert. He loves nature and the outdoors; Ive wondered if I could get a PhD in Netflix. Hes calm, steady and always in a good mood. Im creative, a roller-coaster of emotions and quite franklyprone to hysterics.

I want a best friend who will tell me I need one more pair of shoes and a man who will remind me to save for my retirement account. I want to call my best friend when I feel Ive been wronged and hear her say, What a b*tch! I cant believe she said that to you! I want to be married to a man who says, Who gives a sh*t what she thinks? And I want to get into bed at night with a man who ignites things in me no one else can.

Zeb isnt my best friend.

I have never been so angry at my best friend that I fantasized about throwing a lamp or other miscellaneous piece of furniture at her head. I cant say the same for ole Zeb. For example, once our 3-year-old had walking pneumonia. Sadie was running a fever, listless and refused to drink anything. I tried all manner of juices, an assortment of sippy cups and silly straws all to no avail.

Zeb, will you go to the store and get some Popsicles? I asked.

Do you really think she needs sugar when shes this sick?

I think she needs any type of fluid she can get down because shes going to get dehydrated. So yes, I think she needs Popsicles. I replied.

Give her some water, Zeb advised.

I HAVE.

Try some juice.

Really Zeb? Ive tried everything. Thats why I need Popsicles. I was starting to get pretty pissed.

I just dont think she needs sugar. He said, again.

Noted. Now go to the store and get Popsicles. Please. I said please out loud but in my head I was screaming, YOU SOB!

He was as mad as all get out, but he went to the storevictory was mine! Sadie would be hydrated! All was well with the world…until he walked in the door carrying a box of 200 Otter Pops that werent even frozen.

Is this really happening?! I yelled, What the hell? POPSICLES, Zeb! Why is that so hard?

These ARE Popsicles! He yelled back.

No they arent! Theyll be Popsicles in 36-48 hours but they are most certainly NOT Popsicles right now! Why didnt you get frozen ones?

He looked me straight in the eye and said, I didnt know you could buy them that way.

Are you sure thats how you want to play this? Do you really want me to believe youre that stupid? I asked.

I dont know that Ive ever been so completely filled with rage. Over freaking Popsicles.

But thats the way it is with me and Zebwe are passionate and stubborn. Sometimes I think I might see myself on an episode of Dateline, Josh Mankiewicz strolling down our street as a camera pans wide and says,In the small town of Greenwood, Mississippi, everything looked perfect for Zeb and Robin OBryant…until one day, in a fit of rage, Robin did the unthinkable…

But then, in a split second, Zeb is there with eyes the exact same amber brown assunshine filtered through a beer bottle. He wraps his arms around me while Im standing at the stove cooking dinner. Hekisses my neck and his beard tickles my skin, Sorry, he whispers. And I melt.

Zeb isnt my best friend. Depending on the movie I want to see, Ill ditch him in a second for my girlfriends. But when things gets real, I dont care if anyone is standing with me but him. Hes my partner, my equal and without a doubt, my better half. Zeb is the peanut butter to my jelly, the yin to my yang, the spiritual Xanax to my eight-ball of coke.

Im also going to need all of you people who say, Thanks for the best 15 years of my life! to stand in a separate corner and await your own punishment, because marriage isnt easy, and it most certainly isnt all happy.

Id rather say:

I really appreciate you driving me to therapy every week.

Thanks for not leaving me when I act like a lunatic.

“Thanks for acting like you thought I was sexy for the last 16 years even though Ive gained and lost hundreds of pounds and my stretch marks look like a topographical map of the Rocky Mountains.

I have lots of friends, hell, I even have lots of best friends…but there is and will always be, only one Zeb. Hes my husband and thats enough.

About the Author: Robin O’Bryant is the The New Times best-selling author of Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves. You can follow her on FaceBook as Robin O’Bryantor Twitter.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/10/my-husband-isnt-my-typeand-hes-definitely-not-my-best-friend/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/161673020527

[allofbeercom]

My Husband Isn’t My “Type”and He’s Definitely Not My Best Friend

“Is your husband really, truly your best friend? Really? Because mine isnt.”

ByRobin O’Bryant

Im going to need everyone who has posted a Facebook status along the lines of, Happy Anniversary to my best friend and the love of my life! to form a line, so that in an orderly fashion, I can walk down said line and thump each of you right in the middle of your foreheads.

Is your husband really, truly your best friend? Really?

Because mine isnt.

When people ask me how I met my husband, I usually just say, Church. You need to know someone pretty well before you say something like, God told me he was my husband and even though Im not used to hearing voices, I just went for it! Whats to lose, amiright?!

It was the summer of 1997, I was 19 years old and spending the break working in the office of a new evangelical church my mother had started attending.

My parents had just gone through a shocking divorce, and by shocking, let me just say that to this very day, almost 20 years after their divorce, Ive never heard my parents argue. Ever. They woke us up one fine Alabama Saturday morning and told us they had gotten a divorce a few weeks earlier and my dad was moving out. There was no warning shot fired, no attempt at counseling or reconciliation, just that one sucker punch when we werent paying attention. A year later, I broke up with my boyfriend of four years and my heart was still tender from both events.

Maybe I was naive to think I could bargain with God, but nevertheless, I laid out my terms in my journal:

Ill never give my heart away again. Im giving it to you. Maybe Im ridiculous to never want to date again, but if you could just give me a sign or something when I meet my husbandTHEN Ill date him and fall in love. I dont want to risk picking the wrong person again. After everything…I dont trust my own judgment. So a burning bush? Im not in a hurry. Im ready to go all Sister Mary Clarence about this (thats a Sister Act jokeGod gets me). So, please. Smoke signals? Something…

Before I headed back for the next semester, my older brother Matt and I decided to go to Texas for a Christian motorcycle rally with a family from our new church. (And yes, I do realize this story is getting weirder by the second.) It was kind of a Christian convention meets county fair/campgrounds, but with former Hells Angels who have converted and love JesusIm sure you have the perfect mental picture.

We borrowed a tent, loaded Matts car and joined a caravan of cars following the OBryant family to Texas. One of their sons, Zeb, was a year younger than me. But even if I hadnt been in my Sister Mary Clarence phase, I wouldnt have looked at him twice.

Zeb wasnt my type. My type was clean cut and all-American, the kind who wore lots of Polo shirts and khaki pants, possibly played golf and most definitely was a member of Key Club. Zeb rode a metallic blue 1976 Harley-Davidson everywhere he went, had a goatee that was a little longer than I thought sanitary and his naturally brown hair was bleached blonde and spiked in a manner not unlike Edward Cullensor Edward Scissorhands, for that matter.

Regardless, meeting Zeb began a weekend-long love affair with his vintage Harley-Davidson and Texas back roads. Every time Zeb jumped on his bike, hed give me a nod, Id hop on and wed take off. The rumble of the Harley and the twisting roads through the Hill Country almost hypnotized me. The wind blasted my face and ratted my hair as the sun warmed my jeans. I was careful to keep my hands gently on Zebs hips and to not lean too close against himSister Mary Clarence didnt want to inadvertently press any boobage against his back and give him the wrong idea.

We were sitting in a tent revival type of meetingfolding chairs and open air with the stars hanging low and lazy in the night sky. Our faces were still grey with the road dust and we smelled sweetly of sunshine and gasoline. I was sitting there with my Bible open on my lap when I had a crazy thought:

My husband is here somewhere…

My eyes scanned the crowd and as they did, they fell on Zeb, who was sitting to my right, ripped jeans and motorcycle boots propped on the chair in front of him. Now Im not saying I heard an audible voice, but something deep inside of me clearly shouted, Its him.

I knew from that moment on I would marry him. And its a damn good thing I was hearing voices that nightotherwise I wouldve totally missed it.

Zeb is my polar opposite. Hes an extrovert; Im an introvert. He loves nature and the outdoors; Ive wondered if I could get a PhD in Netflix. Hes calm, steady and always in a good mood. Im creative, a roller-coaster of emotions and quite franklyprone to hysterics.

I want a best friend who will tell me I need one more pair of shoes and a man who will remind me to save for my retirement account. I want to call my best friend when I feel Ive been wronged and hear her say, What a b*tch! I cant believe she said that to you! I want to be married to a man who says, Who gives a sh*t what she thinks? And I want to get into bed at night with a man who ignites things in me no one else can.

Zeb isnt my best friend.

I have never been so angry at my best friend that I fantasized about throwing a lamp or other miscellaneous piece of furniture at her head. I cant say the same for ole Zeb. For example, once our 3-year-old had walking pneumonia. Sadie was running a fever, listless and refused to drink anything. I tried all manner of juices, an assortment of sippy cups and silly straws all to no avail.

Zeb, will you go to the store and get some Popsicles? I asked.

Do you really think she needs sugar when shes this sick?

I think she needs any type of fluid she can get down because shes going to get dehydrated. So yes, I think she needs Popsicles. I replied.

Give her some water, Zeb advised.

I HAVE.

Try some juice.

Really Zeb? Ive tried everything. Thats why I need Popsicles. I was starting to get pretty pissed.

I just dont think she needs sugar. He said, again.

Noted. Now go to the store and get Popsicles. Please. I said please out loud but in my head I was screaming, YOU SOB!

He was as mad as all get out, but he went to the storevictory was mine! Sadie would be hydrated! All was well with the world…until he walked in the door carrying a box of 200 Otter Pops that werent even frozen.

Is this really happening?! I yelled, What the hell? POPSICLES, Zeb! Why is that so hard?

These ARE Popsicles! He yelled back.

No they arent! Theyll be Popsicles in 36-48 hours but they are most certainly NOT Popsicles right now! Why didnt you get frozen ones?

He looked me straight in the eye and said, I didnt know you could buy them that way.

Are you sure thats how you want to play this? Do you really want me to believe youre that stupid? I asked.

I dont know that Ive ever been so completely filled with rage. Over freaking Popsicles.

But thats the way it is with me and Zebwe are passionate and stubborn. Sometimes I think I might see myself on an episode of Dateline, Josh Mankiewicz strolling down our street as a camera pans wide and says,In the small town of Greenwood, Mississippi, everything looked perfect for Zeb and Robin OBryant…until one day, in a fit of rage, Robin did the unthinkable…

But then, in a split second, Zeb is there with eyes the exact same amber brown assunshine filtered through a beer bottle. He wraps his arms around me while Im standing at the stove cooking dinner. Hekisses my neck and his beard tickles my skin, Sorry, he whispers. And I melt.

Zeb isnt my best friend. Depending on the movie I want to see, Ill ditch him in a second for my girlfriends. But when things gets real, I dont care if anyone is standing with me but him. Hes my partner, my equal and without a doubt, my better half. Zeb is the peanut butter to my jelly, the yin to my yang, the spiritual Xanax to my eight-ball of coke.

Im also going to need all of you people who say, Thanks for the best 15 years of my life! to stand in a separate corner and await your own punishment, because marriage isnt easy, and it most certainly isnt all happy.

Id rather say:

I really appreciate you driving me to therapy every week.

Thanks for not leaving me when I act like a lunatic.

“Thanks for acting like you thought I was sexy for the last 16 years even though Ive gained and lost hundreds of pounds and my stretch marks look like a topographical map of the Rocky Mountains.

I have lots of friends, hell, I even have lots of best friends…but there is and will always be, only one Zeb. Hes my husband and thats enough.

About the Author: Robin O’Bryant is the The New Times best-selling author of Ketchup is a Vegetable and Other Lies Moms Tell Themselves. You can follow her on FaceBook as Robin O’Bryantor Twitter.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/10/my-husband-isnt-my-typeand-hes-definitely-not-my-best-friend/

[vitalmindandbody]

Why I Don’t Involve To Have The ‘Perfect’ Body To Be A Health Coach

Bread or no dough? Bread!

Soup or salad? Soup!

Out of 40 health and wellness colleagues in the area, I was the only person who told soup and bread.

Not only that, but I was instantly met by a sea of judgment. Everyone cautiously ate their light-green needles of lettuce so mindfully, being careful of their every move.

One person enunciated, Oh, you got the soup. How neat. Yes, it is nice. And it is fucking delicious.

I unapologetically affection food. I love to cook it, eat it and savor it. As a health coach, I likewise do care about what I feed not in a dogmatic method, but in a affectionate way.

You visualize, I have an stunning tie-in with my body. I listen to it. I do not listen to fad diets, convenience store sell or blog haters.

I listen to my mas. It tells me exactly what it needs and when.

And on that rainy day in NYC, it articulated, Lindsey, I could use some bread and soup. I listened, and guess what? I was right.

Now, for most people, bread and soup is considered a bad snack, but a leafy light-green salad is good banquet. Because as much as we love to label parties, we cherish labeling food, too.

While I sat back and whole-heartedly enjoyed my soup and eat, detecting enormous about my decision, I could see the inconvenience and anxiety so many of all my fellow members were feeling.

Being in the health manufacture, I am judged for two things: my meat picks and my size.

I recollect used to go for fro-yo in my hometown once, and someone discerned me as the Food Mood Girl.

The group , not knowing that my husband was right by them, commented on how they are only couldnt belief I was feeing fro-yo, as if experiencing my fruit-filled consider was like pledging faithfulnes to the dessert devil.

A few days later, another friend told me her mother-in-law was on my website, and she was surprised parties took my advice because I wasnt scrawny enough.

Not simply was I committing to the dessert devil, but now my sizing was being questioned. Normally, I would let this proceed, but I couldnt assistance suppose, What is wrong with my width?

Ive been the same size for the better part of my life. Ive been a size 6 since about ninth grade. The only big change would be my bra length, which is to be expected because puberty.

But for the most part, my shape and form nature has stayed the same.

As a teen, I recollect experiencing inadequate around your best friend and peers. I wasnt skinny or overweight, but what was I?

When it came to guys and plays, I always felt like I fell short. I felt like I wasnt quite thin enough for either.

Id ever get picked somewhere in the middle for dodgeball and times. It wasnt bad, but it also never prepared me feel good.

Fast-forward to my job as a health and nutrition coach, author and orator. When I attend health and fitness seminars and occurrences, I detect the same precise way.

Im not skinny or fit, but Im not overweight, either. Yet, I still feel this weird in-between sentiment, still not knowing what the hell I am.

And then I realized: I am a medium-sized girl. Im not skinny , not overweight. Im simply medium.

Once I realized that, I had to wonder, Since when was being medium-sized not health? Since when did a size 6 or 8 or 10 abruptly become a fitness lack?

We live in a culture that profits off of self-hate, one that wants us to accept even a medium-sized frame is not worthy of things like adore, health, kindness or adoption. Even a medium chassis has lots of work to do because the smaller the dress size, the most valuable of a human you are.

And regardless of whatever luggage and shit you have going on in their own lives, if you are thin, you are a lighthouse of health to certain people.

The last time I departed for a physical, they took my elevation, load and blood pressure.

OK, your quantities gaze fine. You are all good and healthy, they said.

They didnt once allege, How are you doing mentally? Are you taking experience for yourself? Are you practicing self-love? Do you have a healthy imaginative store? How are your personal relationships? How do you cope with bad eras?

Those doubts tell me much more about my health and well-being than a dress length or a scale ever could.

As I sat back and watched how each one of my colleagues quietly evaluated me for telling bread and soup, I couldnt improve but seem sad for them. Not simply were they missing out on the best fucking tomato soup Ive ever had( severely, Im still daydream about it ), but because they judged me for some soup and dough, I envisage they evaluate themselves even more harshly.

I imagine their own judgments and being in the industry has constituted them extra cautious about their every move, representing them seem forever on edge about their meat alternatives and how others comprehend them.

Theyve possibly not only yielded meat bad descriptions, but theyve also maybe even given themselves worse ones.

So, what if we quit labeling and adjudicating ourselves by our size, load, meat selections and figure, and instead start cherishing and respecting ourselves for our sentiments, invention and vitality?

And what if “were starting” basing our views of others on those happenings rather than the labels weve been learnt?

I bet you would not only have an amazing communication, but you would also meet other people health a lot differently.

I bet you would understand their zest, their spunk, their posture and their joy. I bet you would insure thoughts of yourself in them and wonder why you had been evaluating so difficult before.

And I bet you would learn to quit adjudicating yourself so harshly, and instead, youd hear to snack some soup and bread every now and then.

Such articles was originally published on the authors personal blog .

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