#if I get into a ma program and move then I want to frame everything properly

[boltedfruit]

I updated my art wall with some steddie!

#if I get into a ma program and move then I want to frame everything properly #there's also four other prints I just didn't have room for otl

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Undercover- Mob! Steve Rogers Part 2

Okay here is the highly requested part two to my Mob! Steve post! I had some technical difficulties posting it but hopefully you guys see it in the tags now :)

Warnings: swearing and smut

Word count: 2.8k

“When I said go undercover, I didn’t mean under his covers, Agent.” Director Fury slammed his hand down on his desk. It had now officially been twenty-four hours since your encounter with the mob boss and you had been waiting anxiously all day to talk with Nick Fury. The rumor around the office all day was that he wasn’t too pleased with how things went down.

“I did what I had to do, sir.” You stated boldly.

Fury scoffed but didn’t respond.

He was quiet for a moment, his eye scanning over the piece of paper in his hand. You fidgeted uncomfortably as your legs were still sore from your romp last night and you tried to hold it together as Fury gave you a weird look.

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You muttered a thank you as you took a seat.

“Listen, this is all good and fine but I want more. This,” He waved the note in his hand. “Is just a drug felony. I want this bastard put away for life.”

“But what about Stark?”

“A slippery politician, nothing more. I want insight on just more than this. I want it all.”

You sat back in the chair. You understood where he was coming from, but he was also acting like you hadn’t just uncovered a huge piece of information.

“Sir-”

“Which is why you’re going to continue...seeing Rogers. Your undercover assignment has just been extended until further notice.”

“But, sir!” You stood up in protest.

“But nothing, Agent. You’ve made your bed and you’ve already lied in it. Now do it again.” He snapped.

“Are you pimping me out, sir?”

“You did that yourself, Y/N.” Fury snarked. “Anyway, as we speak I have other agents creating an entire new identity for you on the internet so when Roger’s does eventually look you up he’ll find everything we want him to find.”

You felt yourself sinking back down into the chair. He was being completely serious. You suddenly felt very hot as you processed all the information coming at you.

“And what exactly is it going to say?”

“That you are Y/N Monroe. You are the same age as you are now and a barista at the coffee shop just below your apartment. You went to the University of Minnesota and graduated with a business degree, but currently can’t find any jobs. Pity. Your parents died when you were young and you have no siblings-no need to wrap anyone else up in this. We’ve made an Instagram account since that seems to be the most popular app among adults your age. I pushed for no socials but apparently it’s weirder if you don’t have one.”

“Okay...but I don’t have a coffee shop below my apartment.”

“You do now. Your stuff is being moved into a safe house apartment on the other side of town. That’s where you’ll be staying for now. Don’t worry, I have Parker holed up in the apartment two doors down.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to try to calm down. There was nothing else you could do. Fury was right, you had made your bed. You reached over and grabbed the file that Fury had pushed towards the front of the desk. Your new life all put together in a Manila folder.

Damn you, Ma and your slutty advice.

“You can go now.” Fury waved you away, now totally focused on whatever file he had in front of him. You hesitated, wanting to say something but nothing came so you left.

“Y/N!” Peter ran up beside you as you stormed down the hallway. “Heard we’re gonna be neighbors.”

You smiled at how excited he was. “It’s only temporary, Parker. Don’t wet your pants.”

Peter blushed and gently shoved you to the side as you both continued walking. “I know that. But doesn’t mean it won’t be fun. We could have movie nights or something.”

“I suppose we could find some time.” You nudged him back.

“Oh here, before I forget.” Peter shoved a brand new iPhone into your hand. “Fury had me add some tweaks to the geo location so it’s more precise than what Apple has. My burner number is already programmed in there too.”

You studied the burner phone, impressed that they didn’t just give you another shitty tracfone like you were used to.

“Thanks, kid.”

“I’m not that much younger than you.” Peter grumbled as the two of you finally made it to the parking structure.

You smirked over your shoulder as you walked up to your Jeep Wrangler. “Young enough. ‘Night, kid!”

Peter flipped you off but was smiling the whole time as you drove off.

You punched in your new address in the GPS and followed along as it brought you to the older part of town. You had always loved this part of the city but never thought to move out here. Even though it wasn’t the new upcoming neighborhood, the rent prices had been driven up by the young kids moving in who just “adored the old time aesthetic” and the lofted buildings.

Your building was one of those you noted as you parked your car outside of your new address. The old brick building was tall, maybe six stories and had fire escapes littered across the front of it. The front door was a rusted green that you had to yank to budge to get open.

Extra security, I suppose. You laughed to yourself.

Your apartment was on the third floor and right off the freight elevator. You weren’t expecting much when you opened the door but you made a noise of pleasant surprise when you did.

The inside was warm and inviting. A plush gray sofa that resembled a cloud was center in your living room that you saw right away from the small entry hallway. As you stepped in further you saw a decent size tv mounted against the wall and two bookshelves on either side of it, filled with books and records that went along with the record player that was right underneath the television. To the left the living room was the kitchen. Nothing big, which you didn’t mind-you weren’t the best cook in the world. There was a small bar-like counter that had two barstools perched underneath. Down the small hallway you found your bedroom. A king sized bed covered in an off white comforter set with matching sheets. Small potted plants hung from the corner near the window and an array of makeup and perfumes littered the top of the wooden dresser.

Tentatively you opened the dressers to find a whole new wardrobe waiting for you. There were basics: such as t-shirts, jeans, bras and panties but there was also a whole drawer dedicated to skimpy lingerie that you knew was expensive. The walk-in closet was filled with dresses, some formal and some you wouldn’t let your grandmother even see hanging off the rack.

“Well done, Fury.” You mumbled to yourself as your fingers ran down the silk fabric of a long evening gown.

You were settling on to your couch, sweats on and a glass of wine in your hand when you heard a knock on the door. Slowly you got up, grabbing your gun from the plant next to the door. You looked through the peephole and let out a curse when you saw none other than Steve Rogers standing outside your apartment.

You shoved the gun back into the plant and ran your fingers through your hair before opening the door, but leaving the chain attached.

“Mr. Rogers, how can I help you?” Your eyes twinkled as the man in front of you rested his arm on the top of the door frame and leaned close to the opening you had created.

“You said I would see you soon, princess. Looks like soon is now.” The nickname again caused your stomach to flutter.

“I was just getting ready for bed. You’ll have to come by another time.” You feigned a yawn. Steve’s eyes blared as he stood up straight.

“It’s rude to keep your guests waiting, Miss Monroe.” Your heart jumped at the use of your alias. Thank god your team worked fast.

“And it’s rude to show up to people’s apartments unannounced, Mr. Rogers.”

“Open the door, sweetheart.” He hissed, but his eyes held anything but anger. He was intrigued. He never found a woman before who wasn’t afraid to dish back his sass. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

“Say please.” You teased through the opening.

“Please.” He said through gritted teeth.

Chuckling you closed the door gently and undid the chain. Before you could reopen it though, Steve pushed his way through scooping you up in his arms as he did. You naturally wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms held tight around him as you squealed against his neck.

He walked you back into the living room and plopped down on the couch, holding you so you were still straddling him.

You pulled away but kept your arms hanging loosely around him. He smirked up at you as his fingers toyed with the hem of the tank top you had on. His eyes fell to the wine that was only half drank on your coffee table.

“Heading off to bed soon, huh?”

“My bedtime snack.”

There was a part of your brain that recognized him for who he was: evil. But another part of your brain saw him as the man who made your body feel things that it had never felt before and that had your heart racing like a schoolgirl with a crush. The part that recognized that he was so easy to talk and joke with. The great sex wasn’t a bummer either.

His smirk was replaced by a genuine smile as he pulled you down and gave you a kiss that had your toes curling. He moaned into your mouth as you slowly ground your hips against his, your fingers tugging at the hair by his neck. His tongue massaged yours, letting you know exactly who was in charge at this moment. His hands ran underneath your tank top, fingers tracing up your spine before reaching the front and giving your nipples a slight twist.

He moved his mouth from yours and peppered kisses along the side of your neck as he lifted the tank top over your head. He threw it to the side as his mouth attached to your protruding bud while his fingers pinched and toyed with the other one. Skillfully, and with his mouth still attached to you, Steve flipped you over so your back was on the couch and he was on top of you. He lifted his head, his blue eyes clouded with lust as he started kissing down from the center of your chest, down your stomach and down your legs as he pulled your sweats along with him.

He hummed as he spread your bottom lips apart with his fingers, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. You wiggled your hips against his face but he responded with a smack against your core.

“Honey, you gotta learn who’s in charge here and who’s-“ he kissed your clit ever so slightly, teasing you. “Just a little cock slut.”

His tongue circled over your bundle of nerves while fingers toyed with your slick. Gently he pushed two fingers into your pussy. Your eyes fluttered closed as his steady rhythm and flick of his tongue brought your orgasm to the forefront.

“Shit, Steve…” you whimpered, gripping his hair and pulling him close. “Oh fuck, I’m close!”

“Let me taste you, princess.” Steve growled. You nearly lost it at the sigh of your juices dripping from his chin. “Give it to me like the good girl you are.”

“Oh god!” You called out as he hit that spongy spot that caused your thighs to tighten around his head. Your body spasmed as it rode out your orgasm. Your chest heaving and your legs shaking as he slowly pulled his fingers from you. A moan was caught in your throat as you watched him put his soaked fingers between his lips, a look of pure satisfaction covering his perfect face.

Steve leaned his body over yours but careful not to let his full weight fall on you. He ran his nose up the side of your neck, along your cheek before letting it rub against your own. You grabbed his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. There was something so erotic about tasting yourself when your tongues met.

“Show me your bedroom?” Steve pulled away. You gave a weak nod. Steve stood up and hoisted you up, your legs weak beneath you.

“Poor baby.” He cooed in your ear. “Only one orgasm down and already can’t walk. I can’t imagine how you’ll be when I’m done with you.”

With that he lifted you and walked down your short hallway to the bedroom. In your hazy, post orgasm mind you hoped the mattress was comfy. You hadn’t even tested out beforehand.

Steve threw you on the bed and you sighed as you fell into the cloud. You leaned back on your elbows and watched as Steve unbuttoned the new shirt and trousers he had on. You stifled your laughter thinking about the wine stained ones back at his house.

“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards the end of the bed. He lifted your foot up, setting it over his shoulder as he kissed the inside of your calf.

“No, sir.” You teased.

“You’re a bad liar.” He nipped at your knee.

Not as bad as you might think.

Steve made you come at least four more times that night. Your body completely spent when he finally rolled over and laid next to you, yours and his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

You rolled over and threw your leg and arm over his body, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. Steve’s fingers toyed with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Spend the night?” You asked into the darkness. It was nearly three in the morning and your eyes were slowly closing no matter how much you willed them to stay open.

“I have some business things that I have to take care of early in the morning.” He answered, his fingers running up and down your arm.

“Oh, okay.” You said sadly. Steve’s chest rumbled with light laughter as he brought your hand that was in his up to his lips and gave it a kiss. You were soon realizing that he was actually a very affectionate person.

“But I want you to come back to the house tomorrow. I’ll send one of my guys for you in the afternoon.”

“Really?” You sat up. Steve blindly reached for your nightstand and turned on the lamp that was on it. His hair was tousled from the numerous times you had run your fingers through it and his lips were red and swollen. He looked like the epitome of sex and it was fucking hot.

“Yes, really.” He chuckled. He grabbed your phone that was on the nightstand and held it out for you to unlock. You did quickly and he took it back and started typing. “I don’t give out my personal number to a lot of people.”

“So I’m special.” You wiggled in your spot, a grin covering your face.

“Yes. You are.” Steve looked back at you and you were taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. He handed your phone back to you and you laughed at the name he had for his contact: Steve Rogers and an eggplant emoji.

“You’re a child.” You giggled.

Steve rolled his eyes and got out of bed and you took the time to appreciate his bum as he walked over to get his pants.

You gathered the soft sheets in your hand and brought them up to your chest. Although you weren’t sure what you were trying to hide, he had seen it all.

Once he was dressed and you slipped on a robe that you found hanging behind the door, you walked him out. He stood in your doorframe, his large figure making the space seem very small. He smiled as he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your head and leaned down and gave you a kiss.

“Make sure to lock all the doors behind me. And text me when you wake up tomorrow.” He demanded softly.

“Mmmkay, I will.” You said hazily.

“Go get some sleep, princess.” He laughed as he pushed away from the door and walked to the elevator. You watched as he got in and gave you a quick wave before whipping out his phone to make a call.

Once he was out of sight you closed the door softly, making sure to bolt everything before heading back to your bed. You were too tired to even clean up before you passed out.

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #mob steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #mob! steve x reader

[fierysafrina]

Broken Bonds | Obey Me!

Fandom: Obey Me! Rating: General Word Count:  4.176 Genre: Hurt | very mild Comfort | Friendship Additional tags: tw: death - only mentioned Summary: You didn’t know why they suddenly distanced themselves from you. You thought they’d be happy to see you back in Devildom. You’ve never been so wrong before. Notes: Hello! Okay, so first of all I want to say this was based on “your 5th emoji is the brothers’ reaction to your return to Devildom”, to which I got this one: 🙄 and you know how it all goes onward then. This changed from one idea to another and before I knew it, this came out. Now I was thinking of publishing it before, but I got a call from the company and well…not very good news indeed, but it’s understandable for the time we live in. Also I’m just tiny bit tipsy, just tiny bit, but here it is. I didn’t want you to wait longer for it. Feedback is very appreciated, especially your thoughts on the idea and what could possibly go on and who knows, I might as well write part 2. Also there’s no “pair” in this one, MC/reader is more like a younger sister to the brothers and perhaps there’s just tiny bit of side Simeon x reader instead :3c

 —

You were smiling as you bid your family goodbye. Although reluctantly they allowed you to go back to the exchange program. You still weren’t sure how Diavolo managed to convince your parents and how everything came to be, but then again it shouldn’t surprise you either. He was the prince of Devildom after all.

With a hum, you walked to the place Barbatos mentioned and waited. Two weeks back home felt both too short and too long. You missed your family, you couldn’t deny that. But the brothers certainly did grow on you as well. And not just demon brothers. There were also Solomon, Simeon, Luke, Diavolo and Barbatos. Although you didn’t have much contact with the last two, you certainly missed to dote on Luke. No matter how much he tried to deny and be angry at you for how you treated him, he certainly grew up to you.

“Hello [Name].” A male voice called and your smile widened.

“Barbatos,” You called for the man, who returned the smile without hesitation.

“You ready?” he asked.

Without a word, you nodded and before you knew it, you were standing in the student council room. You spotted the two angels, the sorcerer and the prince, but there was no sign of brothers. If you found it odd, you didn’t show it as you approached Luke and wrapped his small, yet slightly taller, form into a warm and tight embrace. The said angel squeaked and tried to free himself only to glare at Simeon, who was chuckling.

“I missed your cookies, Luke!” You grinned and pulled away.

Luke’s cheeks were dark as he tried to neat his clothes. “We-we were only separated for t-two weeks.” He couldn’t help the stutter. “But if you wish, we can make some later.” His expression brightened and your grin widened as you nodded.

“It’s good to see you again.” Simeon spoke and approached you, Solomon right behind.

“You as well,” You smiled at the two before you turned to Diavolo. “I didn’t think I’d come back so quickly…” you chuckled, scratching the side of your cheek.

“Ah, yes, we tried to keep it a secret, since we didn’t know what will be the result of the first student exchange.” Diavolo replied. “I’m not sure how much we succeeded, but it’s good to see you back.”

This time you couldn’t help to ask; “Where are the brothers?”

At that Diavolo’s smile cracked, but it soon returned. It was just for a split second, so you didn’t pay much attention to it. “Most likely studying for the exams.”

“Already?” Your eyes widened. “How much did I miss?”

“Not much,” Simeon spoke. “We arrived a day prior, but it’s mostly just what we learned the past year, nothing new.” He smiled.

“Oh…” you murmured and nodded.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” Diavolo spoke and you nodded. “Barbatos,” he looked at his head butler, who bowed with his head and reached for your suitcase.

“If you’d follow me,” he smiled softly at you.

You returned, but before you left, you looked back at your three classmates. “Maybe we could get a cup of tea at Purgatory Hall later to catch up?” you asked.

“Of course,” Solomon agreed. Simeon and Luke nodded, the latter quite excited.

With one last nod and smile, you turned and followed Barbatos. Biting on your lower lip, you meddled with fingers before you unconsciously raised your hand and scratched your forehead. Something was amiss and you didn’t know what. Something was wrong, yet no matter how much you thought about it, the only picture you saw in your head was the brothers that weren’t there. But then again it shouldn’t worry you. After all, if they were studying, you certainly didn’t wish to disturb them. Yet that sentence didn’t leave your head.

Before you knew it, you reached the House of Lamentation. You followed Barbatos inside and smiled at those familiar stairs and portraits that were still hung on the wall. Hearing a voice in the kitchen, your smile widened when you recognized Beelzebub and Belphegor, yet just like they felt your presence, they quieted down.

“Hey, Barbatos,” You called for the demon once you reached your room. He looked at you. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“No,” he shook his head. “What makes you think so?”

Parting your lips, you wanted to answer, but decided against it. “It’s nothing.” You shook your head. “Thank you,” you smiled and watched the demon disappear in the way you came from. Biting the inner of your cheek, you narrowed your eyebrows, hearing the sudden silence and not a single voice anywhere around. For some reason it bothered you more than it should.

With a shrug you turned and walked into your room. Everything was still the same as you left it. There was no dust around, which meant it was being cleaned, but everything was in place. It surprised you as you thought some of the things would be missing. Putting your suitcase on the bed, you walked over to the desk and smiled at a photo frame that was still there. It was a photo of you with all seven brothers, taken a couple of months ago. You stood between Mammon and Levi, but you stared at Asmodeus, who was pushing Mammon down, wanting to get closer to you. Satan looked unamused behind Levi with Beelzebub holding a bag of chips in his hand. Belphegor was leaning on Levi, who was trying to push his brother off while Lucifer’s eyes were shut, his horns visible. You remembered the day clearly and for a moment you wanted to summon Mammon into your bedroom instead, wanting to meet him first.

Pouting at the realization you still didn’t have enough magical power, unlike a certain sorcerer, you decided to quickly unpack before you searched for the brothers. It was no lie you missed them. All you hoped was that this two-weeks long vacation didn’t meddle with your friendship.

Once done, you grabbed your D.D.D and left the bedroom. You hummed to yourself, wondering how you should greet them. You didn’t watch where you were walking, so the moment you turned around the corner, you bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry!” you were quick to apologize only to widen your eyes when you saw Satan standing right in front of you.

His expression morphed from surprise, to anger and last to confusion as he stared down at you. “You’re back?” he asked and you smiled.

“Just arrived,” you replied, but something was off. His expression changed, so you couldn’t read him as clearly as you could. It felt like you were back to square one. “Did…something happen?” you asked slowly, unsure.

“No,” he shook his head. “Why?”

“Well…” you began, but decided against saying it. “It’s good to see you again.”

Pursuing lips into a thin line, Satan nodded. “You as well.” His voice, action itself, seemed even colder than before. “Well then, I must go to the library.” He added and disappeared down the hallway before you could talk more.

You watched in silence, feeling sadness overtake the happiness you felt not too long ago. Looking back ahead, you continued your way towards Mammon’s room, although now, you didn’t exactly feel like searching for him. What if he also acts cold? You thought to yourself.

You shook your head, forcing a smile upon your lips. Mammon wouldn’t. Why would he? Maybe I upset Satan and I don’t know? You began thinking, going through memory, searching for any clue as to why the Avatar of Wrath would be upset with you. You couldn’t come up with anything.

Reaching Mammon’s room, you stood in front, hand raised, but didn’t move to knock. You stared at his door. What should I say? Will he even open the door? You felt your heart speed up rapidly. Your eyes grew just a bit wider, internally panicking and before you thought to the end, you knocked.

You waited.

There was silence.

You knocked again, feeling tears prickle in your eyes.

Nothing.

Lowering your head, you turned and walked away. Maybe Beelzebub would tell you where Mammon is?

Reaching the dining hall, you forced a smile upon your lips when you spotted the twins. Beelzebub was eating one of his puddings while Belphegor was leaning on the table, sleeping. That was just like them.

“Hey,” You chirped a greeting.

Beelzebub’s eyes fell on you and he stopped his movement. Belphegor opened one eye before he closed it back and continued to sleep. That wasn’t the reaction you expected. Then again, what were you even expecting?

“H-had you seen Ma-Mammon?” you stuttered.

“He’s been gone the whole day.” Beelzebub answered.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips. Maybe he wasn’t avoiding you. Your smile softened and took a step closer, but stopped from the way the older twin watched you. A chill ran down your spine as his gaze didn’t move from your form. “H-hey, I-I brought some s-snacks with me. Would you-would you like them?” you asked, hoping to ease the sudden tension.

Beelzebub tilted his head to the side, but it was Belphegor who straightened and spoke; “He’s eating too many snacks already, he doesn’t need more.”

Your expression fell. “Oh…” Belphegor never refused snacks, less alone Beelzebub. “Did I do something wrong?” you asked before you could stop yourself. Their eyes widened, but you didn’t wait for the answer as you turned and left the kitchen. You refused to cry in front of them.

Before you know it, you stood in front of Mammon, who you met on the doorway. Your eyes were wide as were his and you didn’t know what to say, less alone to do.

“Hey,” you blurted.

Mammon’s expression quickly changed to that of a dislike.

Just like the first time. Your chest tightened. “Mammon?” your voice was quieter, almost a whisper.

“So ya’re back, huh?” he, almost, snarled and you took a step back. “Didn’t think ya’d come back so soon.”

“W-why are you like this?” you asked. Part of you wanted to hear the reason. The bigger part wanted you to walk away. “D-did I do something? Why are you, are you angry at me?”

“Hah?” he scoffed and shook his head, raising his hands. “Why should I be friends with some lowlife like ya?” he pointed his finger into your chest and a tear streamed down your cheek. It didn’t seem to faze him in the least. “Ya shoulda just stay back home.” He pushed past you and disappeared into the house while you stood on the doorway, stunned.

He’s upset. You bit onto your lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. Why? You hardly gulped, feeling a lump growing in your throat as you forced yourself to walk away. If Mammon, who was the closest to you, was upset for some reason, you must have done something. But no matter how much you thought about it, when you left two weeks ago, they all acted so friendly. They couldn’t wait to see you again.

You didn’t know where exactly you were walking to, but you soon found yourself in front of Purgatory Hall, smiling at Simeon, who walked out to greet you.

He was smiling back, but it disappeared when he spotted tears on your cheeks. “What’s wrong?” His voice was quiet, soft and you broke down.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his chest and cried. Simeon embraced you back, but not before he walked you inside and seated you on one of the sofas in the common room. You heard Solomon and Luke exchange words with Simeon, but you didn’t have it in yourself to stop. You could handle anyone being upset with you, anyone but Mammon and Beelzebub. They were the only ones you felt most comfortable with; the only ones you felt protected by.

“It’s okay…” Simeon caressed your back in a soft gesture. “Just let it all out…”

And you did.

—

Laying on Luke’s bed, you hiccupped into the blanket. You wiped the tears when you heard a knock and a moment later doors opened. Luke peeked inside, his gaze worried, as he held a plate of tea and cookies.

“I brought some refreshments.” He spoke slowly.

Sitting up, you wiped the remaining of the tears and smiled sadly. Luke took it as a sign to walk towards you, placing the plate on the night table beside bed. “Th-thank you…” you hiccupped and reached for the tea. The cup wasn’t hot, which was perfect and the moment you tasted the tea, a softer smile spread across your lips.

“Simeon brought some herbs from Celestial Realm. They’re good to calm down.” Luke was quick to explain.

“Thank you,” you whispered and looked towards the doors when Simeon walked inside.

“How are you feeling?” Simeon asked and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at you.

Averting your gaze, you wanted to lie, yet you couldn’t. Not to them. And even if you did, they would know. “I don’t know…” you said instead. “I don’t even know what I did wrong…” you murmured, more tears pricking in your eyes.

“Simeon!” Luke hissed, panicking at your sight.

“It’s okay,” you were quick to speak, assuring the young angel with a gentle smile. “I mean; I knew some-something was wrong when I di-din’t get their messages. O-or when I saw Satan and he-he acted like…like before…” you stopped, gulping. “I…” you choked, looking at Simeon. “W-what did I do wrong?”

—

A week had passed since your arrival back to the Devildom. Aside from Satan, Belphegor, Beelzebub and Mammon, you hadn’t seen anyone else. You certainly heard Asmodeus a couple of times, but didn’t see him. Lucifer always seemed busy with the projects while Leviathan spent hours inside his bedroom as usually. To say you were hurt was understatement. No matter how much you tried to reach for any of them, you stopped yourself before you could, yet sometimes you still found yourself calling for Mammon or Satan, who were always there, but at the same time not. It frustrated you and it didn’t help the glares Luke was sending the brothers.

“I’ve seen some changes between you and the brothers.” Diavolo said once you caught up to him and Barbatos. Lucifer wasn’t around, which in a way calmed you more than you thought it would.

“Ah…” you scratched the back of your neck while with your other hand, tightened your hold on the books that were pressed against your chest. “We’re not…on good terms at the moment.” You admitted, knowing you couldn’t lie to him.

“I see.” Diavolo hummed.

“Did…Did Lucifer say anything to you?” you dared to ask and looked at the prince.

Diavolo raised his gaze up to the ceiling and tapped his chin. “Not that I remember. When you left, Mammon made a ruckus as did Levi. Beel refused to eat anything for the day, others were normal.” He said and a small smile spread across your lips. “It’s odd. You can demand answers since you’re bound to them.”

“No,” you shook your head, sighing a moment later. “I’ve thought about it many times, but I believe it would hurt more than anything.” You lowered your gaze to the floor. “If they don’t wish to speak, that’s alright. As a matter of fact, I was hoping if I could move to Purgatory Hall?” you looked back at the prince, who widened his eyes. “I have an assignment with Simeon and Solomon and it’d take too long if I remain at the House of Lamentation.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

You nodded. “Of course if there’s free room. I wouldn’t want for another student to be thrown out because of me.”

“There is one empty bedroom.” Barbatos spoke before Diavolo opened his mouth.

Your eyes widened and looked at the other. “Thank you,” You lowered your head and paced up when you spotted Lucifer approaching. In a blink of an eye you disappeared between the crowd, yet you still felt a pair of eyes on your back. Daring to look behind, your eyes widened when they were met with dark ones. Quickly looking ahead, you almost broke into a run, just to get away from his eyes.

The next day, your bedroom in the House of Lamentation was empty. If any of the brothers noticed, they didn’t ask, less alone show it.

—

“Okay, do you know when the Demon King went to reside at the bottom of the Devildom?” Luke looked at you.

You opened your mouth to answer, but closed it. Narrowing your eyebrows, you tried once again, only to come up with no answer. “Damn it, I’m never good with years or dates.” You groaned and sighed in annoyance.

Luke chuckled. “No exact year has been dated, but it’s said that his last public appearance was at least 1000 years ago.”

“Sometimes I’m jealous of your long lives…” you murmured under your breath and shook your head, chuckling. “Okay, at least 1000 years ago.” You repeated and Luke nodded. “Hm, oh, okay, I got one.” You smiled. “How many layers does an individual have to walk to exit Devildom?” you turned to the young angel, who tilted head to the side.

“Eight?” he looked at you and you nodded. His expression brightened, but before he could ask you a question, you heard a voice coming from one of the classrooms. The doors were wide open and you wondered what’s going on. You looked inside and spotted Solomon talking to—

“—none of your business, Solomon.”

You recognized Asmodeus’ voice. You unconsciously stopped, Luke doing the same, his eyes focused on you. He gripped his notebook tighter, watching your reaction closely.

“It is my business. You’re acting cold towards them. Do you know how they feel?” Solomon’s voice was a tad colder than you were used to hearing it. “You made a pact with them, Asmo.”

“Well, I wish I hadn’t!”

The book you were holding fell and their heads snapped towards doors, their eyes looking straight at you. Solomon’s eyes widened and you blinked, looking around like a deer caught in headlights before you reached for the book and continued your way, pretending everything was alright. Luke was staring at you in worry, the book tightly pressed against your side.

“You’re next.” Your voice cracked.

Looking at his notebook, he pursed his lips into a thin line. He was hesitating. “What does…Lucifer’s name mean?”

Spotting the said demon among the crowd of demons that surrounded him made you stop walking. Luke stopped as well, his eyes on you before he looked in the way you were looking. Feeling eyes on him, Lucifer spotted you in a second, his eyes widening at the sight. He looked like he wanted to call for you, but stopped before he could. He turned his head, focusing on the demons instead.

“Morningstar,” you said and turned away.

“That’s right…” Luke agreed, following beside you. Before you turned around the corner, Luke looked at Lucifer and frowned when he saw the said demon looking after them with sadness. Scowling, he sent him a glare before he rushed after you.

—

When Diavolo called for your attendance one month after your arrival to Devildom, you thought you had done something wrong. It was quickly proven otherwise when his expression was filled with nothing but sadness and regret.

“Please, sit.” He gestured towards the chair and you did so, although carefully.

“Am I in trouble?” You chuckled, but it was strained.

“[Name],” He called you and you knew he was serious. “It’s about your parents.”

Your eyes widened at what he was saying and before you knew it, you found yourself running out of the office and down the hallway. You heard Solomon’s voice and someone else’s—Mammon?—, but you didn’t stop. You ran out of the school and back to Purgatory Hall, quick to pack your clothes. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, a memory of your mother resurfacing with your father beside. They were smiling at you, laughing as they talked.

“They’ve been involved in a car accident a couple of days ago. A truck hit them straight on, no chance of survival. Barbatos will accompany you home.”

You were heaving, panting for air that didn’t seem to come no matter how much you begged. Chest felt tight around your lungs as the throat seemed to be closing on you. You were choking, struggling for every breath you could barely take. You didn’t process arms wrapped around you, until you felt your body being rocked. Someone was humming, but you couldn’t focus on it. You clang onto those arms like you were afraid to fall again.

“I’m sorry…” The person spoke and you realized it was Simeon. “Diavolo explained the situation to me. I’m so sorry…”

You shut your eyes, wishing everything to be a dream, yet no matter how much you did, this was the reality you had to face.

“If you wish, I can contact Father and ask about them.”

You found yourself nodding and Simeon caressed your head in a soft touch. You couldn’t talk. Then again you knew it would be hard for Simeon to contact Father, yet you still felt gratitude.

Once you’ve calmed down, Barbatos patiently stood on the doorway, waiting for you. Simeon helped you pack your things before you walked towards the door. Barbatos reached for the suitcase and stepped aside. Luke and Solomon stood not too far away, their worried expressions making you tear up again.

“I have a feeling we won’t see each other for a long time.” Luke spoke quietly.

Kneeling down, you pulled him into a tight embrace. “You can always visit me in the human world. Anyone of you.” You looked at Solomon, who softly smiled. “You’re always welcomed.”

“Thank you,” Simeon’s voice was quiet and Solomon lowered his head. “We’ll make sure to visit you once we can manage.”

A small smile spread across your lips. Taking in a shaky breath, you walked to Barbatos, but before you could leave, you remembered something. Turning, you faced Solomon, who raised an eyebrow.

“I have a question.”

—

“Mammon!” Leviathan called and reached to grab Mammon’s arm. Satan was quick to follow with Beelzebub to hold onto the second brother.

“Lemme go!” Mammon hissed, trying to free himself.

“You can’t go!” Leviathan argued back.

“They were cryin’!” Mammon raised his voice and he flinched. “How am I suppose’ to stay calm!?”

Belphegor looked at Lucifer, whose face showed no emotion, but his eyes were a clear giveaway.

“We can’t follow them.” Lucifer spoke, making all brothers look at him. “We mustn’t.”

“Screw that!” Mammon cursed, freeing himself. “I don’t care about the deal! I don’t care about anythin’! I’m done with it!”

“Mammon!” Lucifer called after, grabbing for his upper arm. “If you care for them, you will let them go.” His voice was stern, but the latter was having none of it.

“Ya all don’ care about ‘em!” he was fuming, face red from anger.

Asmodeus stood not too far away, face troubled. “It’s probably best we don’t look for them.” He spoke, gaining attention.

“What do you mean?” Leviathan asked.

“Solomon and I argued. They heard us.” He said and closed his eyes, sighing.

“What did you argue about?” Lucifer stepped closer.

Asmodeus parted his lips, ready to answer, when pain shot through his chest. He held for it, gasping for breath as did everyone else. Although Lucifer tried to remain calm, the pain he felt was unfamiliar. It burned him from inside out, something he had ever felt before. It was a familiar feeling to the Fall, yet at the same time very different. This one was much more personal. There was groaning and a yell and Lucifer managed to look at his younger brother, who formed into his demon form. Mammon’s wings spread widely as he shut his eyes and screamed, his rawness sending chills down everyone’s spine. Satan and Lucifer themselves found each other in demon forms while others tried hard to resist it, but failing.

“W-what’s this…this feeling?” Leviathan gasped out, looking at Lucifer for an answer. “It burns.” Lucifer knelt beside him, holding for his shoulders. Satan was trying to hold Mammon back from running away.

“Make it…stop…” Beelzebub groaned, holding for his stomach. Belphegor was by his side, trying to comfort him, but he himself was struggling with it.

Lucifer’s face fell. As much as he wished to know, he didn’t have an answer.

Asmodeus’ eyes were wide as he stared ahead of himself. “I-it can’t be…” he murmured.

Lucifer looked at him.

“T-the bond…” he stuttered. “I-I don’t feel the bo-bond…”

Lucifer’s eyes widened. “What?” he asked. But he himself felt … emptier. Something was missing and no matter how much he searched for it, he couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find their bond.

Another scream echoed in the House of Lamentation and Mammon was gone.

#Obey Me Mammon #Obey Me Satan #Obey Me Lucifer #Obey Me Asmodeus #Obey Me Simeon #Obey Me Luke #Obey Me Solomon #obey me! shall we date #Obey Me one shot #oneshot #Obey Me fanfic #Obey Me fic #fanfcition #safrinawrites #aesthetic #moodboard #tw: death #Obey Me Leviathan #Obey Me Beelzebub #Obey Me Belphegor

[woahitslucyylu]

Big Sister. (Part I)

GIF not mine - credit to OG creator. 

Well, Coco’s back at it again. This is Part I. 

Notes: Big sister/sister refer to sorority sisters and a Big Brother-Big Sister program. There is no biological relation. It is a relationship term only. 

------------------------------------------------------“What’s the theme this weekend?” Letty sipped her milkshake as the car idled at the light. “You won’t believe it - bikers.” You couldn’t control your giggles. “I already have an idea of my outfit. Here, look.” You passed the phone to Letty as you turned onto the gravel road of the Romero Brothers scrap yard. 

“Oh, shit - I have the perfect shirt. They’re inside. Come in.” Letty pleaded as you stopped in front of the service office. “They’re club shirts, but you could easily crop it.” Letty drew an imaginary line across her midriff. “Only if you help me!” You turned off the car and followed Letty into the clubhouse. Letty was your Little Sister through your sorority’s mentoring program and you had fallen in love with her. She reminded you so much of yourself from not so many years ago, and you felt convicted to lead her down the right path. 

The cool air was shocking as you stepped into the log cabin-esque clubhouse. You had never been in before - despite dropping Letty off here weekly. “Wait here. I’ll go grab them. Help yourself to whatever you want.” Letty tossed her book bag absentmindedly on a leather couch and headed down a dark hallway - leaving you alone. 

“Aye, can I help you?” The dead voice sent chills through your body. Your back was towards the door and you suddenly felt vulnerable. “I, I am...waiting for Letty. She’s getting me a shirt.” You smiled confidently - turning to face the speaker. Years of pageants and public speaking had given you false confidence in the most desperate times. 

“Oh shit, it’s you. Where’s Letty? Is everything okay?” Coco rolled his eyes at your presence. “Oh, yeah, she’s getting me a shirt. I hope that’s okay.” You gestured down the hall as you walked closer to Coco and his small group. 

“Aye, who is you? Coco, you aren’t going to introduce us?” The speaker was tall and his eyes dark - already glassy with lust as he looked you up and down. Coco grimaced, lighting another cigarette under the pressure - “Angel, this is -----. She works with Letty on school and shit.” Coco shrugged his shoulders towards you. He wasn’t ashamed he needed help. What did he know about being a father? What did he know about being a father to a 16 year old girl? He was grateful you were so involved with Letty. 

“Here, I found one.” Letty appeared, breathless, holding her heather gray prize in her hand. “It’s too big to crop, but you can knot it in the back or under your boobs.” Letty held her hands in front of you, modeling a bantu knot. “Leticia, what the fuck are you talking about?” Coco’s voice was gruff in an attempt to parent the semi-inappropriate conversation. “Coco, she has a party to go to! It’s biker themed. She needed a biker t-shirt.” Letty threw her hands up in dramatic fashion. 

You couldn’t contain the giggles - Coco and Letty were one of your favorite forms of entertainment. “Letty said she could give me one. I hope that’s okay. I think it would add to my outfit.” Your voice was sincere as you stared into Coco’s dark eyes. There was something about him that held your breath and tingled in your belly. “Yeah, yeah, you good. Enjoy.” Coco couldn’t hold her gaze for long. It made him nervous. You seemed to see right through him. 

“Aye, a biker party? Need real bikers? I know a few.” Angel winked at you and gestured to Coco, EZ, and Gilly. You smirked as you walked back towards your car - “Ah, maybe another time, right? Love you, Letty!” You ended the shout with a kiss blown to Letty. 

“Oh, okay, next time is good.” Angel quipped as you drove out of sight. 

———————————————————————

How many shots was this? You had lost count. “Ugh, who bought Burnette’s?” You shudder as the alcohol warmed your body. The party was loud and crowded as thick rap beats pulsed through the room. You had decided to cut and tie the Mayans shirt from Letty - forming it to your tiny frame with knotted sides. It had been a hit and you had won best costume for women. 

“Aye, come here. Take my picture.” You thrust the phone toward your semi-sober sister. You felt brave. “Just make me look sexy.” You struck poses against the blank hallway wall - pouting your lips for effect as she moved closer to frame your face. 

“Here. I got good lighting.” Your sister smiled - tucking her arm through yours as you scrolled the available images. “Who are you sending it to?” Your friend’s voice was sing-song, teasing you as you selected a close up of your cleavage and pouty lips. “Oh, just a friend.” You waved her away as the picture popped into the message. The cursor flashed at you tauntingly as you typed in “C, o, c, o” and hit send. You couldn’t think about it - if you did, it might have been ruled too dangerous or too scandalous, and you were living for the thrill. 

Coco sat at the table - his cards tucked as he watched the others ante up. Letty was staying with a friend for the night, and he had taken advantage of being able to kick back with his friends. “Aye, I’m out.” He folded his shitty hand - he swore Angel cheated when dealing the cards and sat back, watching the rest of the game. 

Coco reached for his phone - it had been a couple of hours since he had heard from Letty, and he needed to check in with her. As the lock screen vanished, Coco choked on his beer. “Bro, you okay?” Gilly smacked Coco’s back as he scrambled to keep the phone away from view. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ma call Letty.” Excusing himself, he moved outside to the porch and privacy. 

He took a deep breath  and opened the message again. There you were - well, parts of you anyways - on his screen, posing seductively in the shirt from Letty. He felt his face flush as he studied the picture again - he was stunned. You were Letty’s friend - well, mentor - whatever the fuck you were, and this was not something he expected. 

You stood in the corner - watching the last match of beer pong as you waited for Coco’s response. It had been ten minutes - was he offended? Was he uninterested? Why did you care if he was either? Taking another shot, you took another risk and sent a tongue-in-cheek message, “Can I go for a ride?” 

Coco lit another cigarette - inhaling as he read the next message in the chat. “Fuck me.” His voice was breathless as he typed, “Any time you want, ma” and sent it without a thought. 

Your heartbeat quickened as you felt your phone vibrate in your lap. You were sandwiched in an Uber on the way to In N Out. You read the message and smiled, “Tonight?” was the only reply you could think of. 

#johnny coco cruz #johnny coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz #Mayans MC #mayansmc fanfiction #mayans fanfic #mayans fx

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Cherry Coke Special: Four

Bucky let himself into his mother’s house through the kitchen. Like he always had. People who were supposed to be there used the back door. It’d been that way as long as he could remember. 

The same way, the kitchen had always been bright and cheerful. His parent’s house was a study in understated comfort. It wasn’t a mansion. It was a family home. Wood floors, squashy furniture, and throw pillows. Family photos on the wall. And like so many of his childhood memories, his ma poking around in the kitchen.

“Hey, ma,” he said, kissing her cheek and hefting himself up on a counter.

“Ah, yes. There’s my firstborn,” she scolded fondly, “Too busy to call your mother?”

“Sorry,” he said, contrite, “It’s been a long day.”

She reached up and mimed punching him in the jaw, “Don’t I know it. Steve and Natasha kept me filled in... This girl, she okay?”

“A little worse for wear, but... they’re letting her out of the hospital tomorrow.” She stops and looks up at him, gauging what she can say and what she can’t. Like his father, her son is a good man. He’s got a good heart. But he’s got a hard head and an eye for a pretty girl in trouble. Those two things don’t always add up to good judgment.

“And you love her?” she pressed.

“Yeah,” he said softly, smiling a little. You were brave. And smart. And kind. Fierce, self-reliant, loyal... everything he’d been looking for. His mom raises an eyebrow. She knew that look. And that wasn’t the look he got when he was dating one of his other... women. The ones he kept to warm his bed and occupy his time.

“But?” she pressed.

“There’s no but, ma,” he insisted, “I’m gonna make this right for her. I messed up. I got in the way, and she got hurt. But she’s okay. And the baby’s okay. Now they need a place to go. So I’m gonna give her that.”

“Baby?” Winifred asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Bucky nodded and took a deep breath.

“Yours?” she asked.

He shook his head, “No. The ex that just put her in the hospital.” He watched his mother nod and give him a slightly incredulous look. “Ma,” he protested, “She’s a good girl. Loyal. She never even so much as flirted with me in the diner... I don’t care if this isn’t my kid. They need somewhere to go... and I can’t let her throw her whole career away to go back and work at her mama’s restaurant.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Except she left her home town for a good reason. And I’d hate to see her throw away everything she built. All the things she worked for.”

“What’s she do?” she asked.

“She runs a program for addicts... helps ‘em get back on their feet,” Bucky said.

Winifred smiles a little, “So she’s not just a centerfold?”

“No,” Bucky snorted, “She’s brilliant. Works hard. She was working two jobs to keep her ex in med school.”

She nodded, “And if she doesn’t want your help?”

Then,” he hesitated, “I’ll have to let her go. Let her raise her kid and just... help keep Rory away from her.”

His mother patted his cheek and sighed, “You and your pretty girls.”

“Dad would like her,” Bucky said, smiling a little, “So will you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she said, handing him a beer, “You hungry, baby?”

“I could eat,” he answers, jumping down off the counter. He knows better than to say no. If he says no, she’ll just send him with enough leftovers to feed a small army and pout at him about working too hard.

____________

When part of Bucky’s crew showed up with tape and boxes, ready to help your mom and your brother pack up your things and move them, Nat is on hand to answer questions. She sets them at ease as best she can, carefully explaining that you had a friend who had a place you could stay. And that he sent people to help them move you. And keep an eye on Rory. 

Bucky showed up to the hospital, a bag with some clean clothes in his hand, “Hey, kid,” he said, smiling a little.

“Hey,” you murmur, struggling to sit up around the pain in your ribs and the cast on your arm. 

“Easy,” he said, rushing forward to help you, kissing your head, “We got time... and I brought you some clothes if you don’t wanna walk around blood-spattered... your ma picked them out of your closet.”

“How’d you get ‘em?” you ask, taking the bag he’s holding out. 

“I dropped by to introduce myself,” he says, smirking, “Couldn’t have your ma thinking I was some sort of degenerate... and it gave your brother a chance to threaten my life if I ever laid a hand on you.”

You quirk an eyebrow, and he smiles, “Sugar if I ever hurt you, I’d let him.” He kisses your forehead, “How do you feel, okay?” 

“I mean... everything hurts but. I guess I’m okay. A little shitty that I can’t go back to work and talk to my clients yet,” you answer.

“You need rest,” he says, smiling a little, “Aside from that, what if I could fix it so you wouldn’t have to work anymore?”

You sigh, “I’m assuming you’re at least kinda joking, but... Seriously. If All I had to do all day was look after a house and kids all day, I’d probably kill myself just for something else to do.”

“Fair enough,” Bucky snorted, helping you to your feet so you could change, “I’ll be right outside.”

He waits patiently, idly scrolling through his phone and listening for any sounds that indicate you might need help. But by the time you do come out, pale and sweating, leaning heavily on the door frame to stay on your feet, Bucky rushes forward to help you. “Jesus,” he breathes, easing you into a chair, “Do they need to keep you another day?” He tilts your chin up, searching your face, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“My ribs are really unhappy about changing shirts,” you explain.

Bucky nodded, “Let's get you to your new home, huh?” he said, trying not to let on how worried he was. 

“You’re sure about this? I mean. I know I can’t afford whatever you’d charge anyone else for rent.”

“You’ll class the place up, Sugar,” he says, smiling, “ ‘sides. Feds are gonna be thrilled to see I’m housing someone like you. A regular upstanding citizen.”

You snort, “You clearly haven’t done much looking into my background.”

“Family tree got cut down to make rap sheets, huh?” he said fondly.

“Yeah,” you snort, “Mostly, my dad’s.”

Bucky smiles a little and helps the nurse settle you into a wheelchair to get you to the car. It’s a sleek black number. Expensive. Designed to turn heads. And you quirk an eyebrow, “Subtle, Bucky.”

“What can I say? I like my cars like I like my women. Smart, Sexy, and deliciously curvy.”

You roll your eyes, and he grins, opening the door for you. “Your chariot awaits, Princess.”

“I don’t really think I’m the Cinderella type,” you tell him, putting an arm around his neck so he could help you into the car.

“We’ll see about that, Sugar. I’ve always wanted someone I could spoil into a Princess.”

“Bucky,” you scold.

“Not sorry,” he says, chucking you under the chin gently. “I told you I was gonna make this right, Y/N, and I always keep my promises.”

#Bucky Barnes #soft bucky #bucky x reader #mob!bucky #Mob!AU #fluff #mild angst #hurt/comfort

[themyskira]

The Life of Captain Marvel - issue #5

This is it; the final part of this embarrassment of a comic.

Through sheer incompetence, Carol and Marie have set a Kree cyborg assassin on an unsuspecting town.

This issue they face off against the attacker and, through sheer incompetence, are soundly defeated.

Along the way, Margaret Stohl also manages to retcon the 1960s Captain Marvel continuity to give Carol even less agency.

The issue opens on a flashback. Carol is an Air Force Colonel and she’s finally where she always wanted to be: flying spacecraft for NASA. Well, technically she’s there on loaner from the Air Force to test pilot a new prototype, but that doesn’t stop her disobeying direct orders by refusing to slow down, thus jeopardising a billion-dollar spacecraft and everything she’s worked her entire life for.

Carol: You getting this, NASA? NASA officer: Affirmative. Now slow it down, Danvers. Carol: Speed is all relative, Doc. Relative to the Earth, I’m going fast. But relative to… a quasar? I’m wastin’ time. NASA officer: Just don’t waste that billion-dollar prototype. You’re burning up fuel. Carol: Just a little higher. NASA officer: Direct order, Colonel. Carol: Just to the other side of those clouds. NASA officer: Do they not do direct orders where you come from Air Force? Carol: With respect, NASA, I’m a loaner. Until they stamp the paperwork, you’re not even in my chain of command…

(To be fair, Carol is a speed-jockey, and her pushing a prototype beyond the original test parameters is very much in character. But written poorly, a hotshot pilot can become a reckless jerk, and this is how she comes across here. A smug asshole who’s made it to NASA and thinks she can now do whatever the hell she wants.)

Page two delivers an abrupt right turn. A second spacecraft appears in frame; its pilot, we discover, is the NASA officer Carol has been speaking to. He keeps telling her to turn back and Carol becomes increasingly insubordinate and unprofessional, challenging him to race her. Again: this is the only job she’s ever wanted, and now she has it, she’s behaving like a friggin cowboy?!

Fortunately for Carol’s career, it turns out that NASA guy’s commands to slow down were all some convoluted form of flirtation, and he leaps at the challenge.

Later, Carol and NASA guy get cosy with each other on the bonnet of a convertible. And now we learn NASA guy’s name: Doctor Walt Lawson.

Otherwise known as Mar-Vell.

Carol: It’s… it’s like I’m waiting for the universe to show its face… or show up and… I dunno… Mar-Vell: …recognise you? Carol: Sounds crazy, I know. Mar-Vell: No. Sounds familiar.

oh, you fuckers.

I talked a lot in the issue four recap about Carol’s lack of agency in the 1960s Captain Marvel, the series in which she originally (albeit via retcon) got her powers. About how the creators of The Life of Captain Marvel recognise this lack of agency, but attribute it to the maleness of her legacy rather than the fact that her role in her own origin is entirely passive.

Given that, I was surprised Stohl decided to include Mar-Vell in the story at all — she’s been working hard up till this point to distance Carol from him — but not surprised at all by the way these flashbacks play out: with a passive Carol who does nothing to further her own story. A Carol who, in fact, does even less than the Carol Danvers of the original 1960s Captain Marvel comic.

What do I mean by that?

This is Carol in her first-ever comic appearance in Marvel Super-Heroes #13:

Mar-Vell: By the way, Miss Danvers… Just why did you oppose my seeing the robot? Carol: Nothing personal, Dr Lawson… but your dossier is still being examined by my security division! If you must know, you’ve always had a reputation as a recluse… even an eccentric! And frankly, after seeing that strange briefcase of yours…! Well… General Bridges: That’s enough, Miss Danvers! Coming, Lawson? Mar-Vell: Yes, sir! Mar-Vell [thinking]: An eccentric! If only that’s all she suspects! Carol: I’ll see you both later! Carol [thinking]: Somehow I can’t help feeling… that Walter Lawson is hiding something! If he is, I won’t rest till I find out what… and why!

This is characteristic of Carol’s early appearances in Captain Marvel. She distrusts “Walter Lawson” from the start, suspecting him of hiding something even as her superiors welcome him, and she goes to great lengths to try and uncover his true identity and intentions. The writers never allow her to get very far, but it’s an early indication of her intelligence and tenacity.

As Stohl tells it, though, Carol suspects nothing. She’s too busy swooning over his chiselled jaw to notice anything else.

Back in the present, thanks to Carol and Marie’s incompetence, Blue, Busty and Naked is holding JJ hostage. It’s surrounded by murderdrones and also flying, which is new (were we supposed to know it could fly?).

Tide Pod informs Marie that she has been tried in absentia, found guilty of high treason and sentenced to death. Evidently the Kree assassin units were programmed to respond to Marie’s locator beacon, and when Carol inadvertently switched it on, Kleenex was automatically deployed. Well done, Carol.

Carol goes to deck Dishwasher, before Marie points out that maybe attacking the being currently holding her brother by the throat isn’t the greatest idea.

Bargain Basement Mystique flies off with JJ, leaving its drones to rain down destruction.

The two women fly into action. Marie is struggling a little, being out of practice.

“Look at that. I’m the worst thing that ever happened to this town. This is all my fault…”

Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself, Carol. This is at least fifty percent Marie’s fault.

They split up. Carol finds JJ in town, hanging from a burning building. She flies to his aid, but Joe yells out, “No no no, Carol, it’s—“

Klinger: —A TRAPPPPPP!

What is this?! How shitty an assassin do you have to be to announce your own ambushes?

So Admiral bloody Ackbar lands on Carol and starts beating up on her, while she starts having a panic attack because who the fuck knows anymore.

Carol: Get— [wheeze] offa— [wheeze]

Marie, who last we saw was zooming off to the other side of town, is inexplicably on the scene. She flies up to rescue JJ, scooping him into her arms just as the burning building collapses.

Before I move onto the next page, I want to just take note of everybody’s positions. Carol is lying on her back, hyperventilating, as Janitor holds her down and beats her. Marie is in the air, cradling JJ in her arms.

Because this is the next thing we see.

Marie, hovering alone in the sky, is struck by some kind of beam.

Carol flies up from behind to catch her.

What happened to JJ?! What happened to the blue fucker?! What happened to the goddamn panic attack?!

Anyway then Carol is like LET OUR POWERS COMBINE and she and Marie go full Care Bear Stare, and I know I’m mixing my early nineties cartoon metaphors, but it is what it is.

I mean, it’s supposed to be a photon blast, but what else would you call this?

[Carol and Marie sparkle furiously] Marie: It’s working… keep it up!!! Carol: Ugly Space Face… is falling back!!!  …with the power of all Hala… Marie: …with your strength, and with mine…

(btw, somebody needs to ban this woman from using exclamation marks.)

But oh no! Something goes wrong! Carol manages to sparkle too hard!

Carol and Marie, in unison for some reason: Don’t… let… up!!! Carol: Wait— Ma, it’s— it’s too much! Can’t… control… Pull back!

They sparkle so hard they make an explosion!

They sparkle so hard they get thrown up into the air!

They sparkle so hard that Carol sees her life pass before her eyes!

I wish I was even partially kidding.

We flashback to Carol and “Walt”, aka Mar-Vell, in full astronaut gear on the outside of a space station. Mar-Vell says there’s something he’s been trying to tell her for a while, and then takes off his helmet.

(For those keeping score: Yes, this is one of Mar-Vell’s powers, but it’s not a universal Kree power. Neither is half the stuff Stohl attributes to Carol and Marie’s “natural” Kree abilities.)

Mar-Vell: You want to know the truth about starstuff, Carol? We’re all made of stars… just not the same stars. Carol: I… I can’t believe it… Mar-Vell: You have to. Because I’m not the only one. We’re in danger, Carol, and if they come for me, I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you…

In the original Captain Marvel, Carol never quite manages to uncover Walter Lawson’s true identity. It’s Mar-Vell’s show, she’s just the love interest, and he always outsmarts her in the end.

In this version of events, she never even suspects him of duplicity. She just stands there gawping while he tells her everything, because he’s afraid his enemies will target him through her.

Which they do.

“Mar-Vell was right. The enemy struck. And when Yon-Rogg couldn’t get to him… he got to me.”

You fuckers. You had the power to change this. You had in your hands the opportunity to give Carol an origin story that was actually about Carol and not a just dick-measuring contest between two super-powered men.

You could have done so much, and what you decided on was ‘yep, that’s exactly how it played out, except Carol was less capable and intelligent and active and also she already had superpowers to begin with.’

You. mother. fuckers.

“[E]ven then, the Kree didn’t see me as a threat. I was just a weak human. And when the Psyche-Magnitron hit, it was easy to believe the powers I gained were Mar-Vell’s. Nobody knew the truth… my secret birthright. Not even me. […] Just as nobody ever knew the reason I’d always flown higher or pushed further or run faster or given more: to let flow the awakening stars beneath my skin, though I didn’t know why I craved them, or what they were.”

So again, all of Carol’s dreams and ambitions? All her drive and grit and perseverance? Her hunger for speed and flight, pushing herself to go higher, further, faster?

None of it’s hers. All of it, all of it, is explicitly attributed to her alien blood. Not her accumulation of experiences, relationships, successes and failures. It’s simple genetics. Base instinct.

Fuck you, Margaret Stohl. Fuck everybody who had a hand in this colonoscopy of a miniseries. Carol deserves better.

Meanwhile, the Khambermaid has decided that it might have an easier time killing somebody if it’s wearing clothes.

Janitor: Upgrading combat suit… [manifests armour] Carol: Coming, Ma! Janitor: …and weaponry! [manifests a giant spear]

Why did you not start with this, then?

For that matter, why did you not just send your drones to bomb the Danvers house rather than theatrically announce your presence, take JJ hostage and formally announce Marie’s death-sentence-in-absentia?

So of course Mopster throws the spear at Carol, and of course Marie throws herself in front of it, and of course Carol cradles Marie in her arms and begs her to go because “I just got you back”, and of course she dies while telling Carol how proud she is.

Carol asks Marie what her missions was, why she came to Earth from Hala. And Marie, the woman who as we have established has made her daughter feel alienated and neglected and undervalued for her entire life says “It was… you. My mission was always… you.”

(The Karpet Kleaner has already fucked off back to space at this point, btw.)

Two weeks later, this is how Carol reflects on her feelings about her mother:

“When I look for Ma in our family albums, I don’t even see her face anymore… now she just looks like some kind of bright star to me. Captain Mari-Ell, daughter of Hala. A ball of cosmic dust and burning light… But as much as her light hurts my eyes, I can’t look away, and I can’t outrun her or even outfly her… because nothing’s faster than light.”

what.

what.

Marie has done nothing to earn this mythic status. She’s a terrible parent who, as best I can tell, had two real conversations with her daughter in Carol’s entire life, and both of them happened in the last six hours of her life. She’s not a ball of radiant light or whatever, she’s a snazzy costume with all the personality and heroism of a potato.

What are you doing chucking perfectly good photos into the void of space? There’s no logical symbolism to it. You scatter her ashes in space, you’re returning her to the stars, taking her on one last flight, etc. You scatter family photos in space, you’re just littering.

You already did the crying-tears-that-turn-to-ice-in-the-vacuum-of-space. Just because you wasted it on a hacky moon tantrum back in issue two, doesn’t mean you get a second go at it.

Carol meets Tony on the Moon and tells him she needs to get back to work.

Carol: I feel closer to her when I’m Captain Marvel than when I’m… not. Tony: You know what you are, Care Bear? You’re hers. Maybe that’s the thing about all this ‘daughter of light’ stuff. That light is in you and she’s in you— Car-Ell, daughter of Mari-Ell— yadda yadda yadda mumbo midichlorians jumbo— you catch my drift.

what ‘daughter of light’ stuff? NOBODY HAS MENTIONED ANY ‘DAUGHTER OF LIGHT’ STUFF.

Then it’s back to Maine to farewell JJ and Nice Guy Louis — who finally gets his kiss, though not without passing up the opportunity to complain that he’s been waiting fourteen years for it. I cannot believe this fucko was the love interest.

Finally, Carol flies off amid more wanky narration about how she is truly her mother’s daughter and her story will live in Marie’s legend (what legend? Marie only did two things in her life, become a Kree military officer and have a daughter, and she couldn’t be bothered following through on either one of them) and Marie will live in her heart.

Writing tip from Margaret Stohl: Having trouble building a believable relationship between your characters? Try not doing it and saying you did! Marie may be an empty shirt of a character, and her neglect may have caused Carol lasting scars into adulthood, but the important thing is, Carol tells us that they had a rich and meaningful relationship. That means it must be true!

#comics talk #carol danvers #the days of our lives of captain marvel

[mook-pooltable]

Uncle Sam AU

Rosie: Okay, the first idea I had is a crossover idea that could result in something similar to my HatID story that partially inspired by an idea I saw on Ao3.

Harry, while still in school, goes to Gringotts and asks for a hereditary test to find out if he has any other living family besides the Dursleys (cause let's face it, he's *desperate* to get away from them). He finds out he had someone who's still around on his mother's side of the family, a cousin of his grandfather, Harold Evans.

The man's name is "Sammy Lawrence". The test shows if the other members are alive, cast out of the family, or other such statuses by showing their names in different colors, and *his* name is written in an unusual color. The color in question means “Alive but Incapacitated” (Or something along those lines)

Mango: OOOOO yes i like this

Rosie: (Maybe "Entrapped" would be better?)

Mango: (ye, that would probably work better)

Rosie: Harry, being desperate for *any chance* of a family member that doesn't hate his existence, decided he wanted to find his Great Uncle Sammy. The goblins say they can run an investigation for him, while he goes through the proper channels to get to the states while underage. (Which also includes finding a place to stay, getting a passport, etcetera.)

Mango: i'd love to read this fanfic.

Rosie: The things get a little, weird.

Mango: no doubt

Poe: question: is sammy mom or dad's side of the family, i’m thinking dad but...

Rosie: Sammy Lawrence had gone missing years ago, along with most of the employees at the Cartoon Studio where he worked. But there was never an investigation by MACUSA since the Grindlewald War was still going on and had finally reached American shores. Sammy was the cousin of Harry's grandfather on his mother's side of the family.

Poe: gotcha gotcha

Rosie: Harry, still wanting to know more, decides he's going to go overseas anyway and maybe find and look around the Studio himself. But the goblins are smart enough (and not willing to lose such a valued customer) to set up a "Back Up" time frame for him. Meaning when he goes, if he doesn't contact them after a certain period of time, they will send people to go looking for him.

Mango: smart

Rosie: This, in turn, keeps Harry from being absolutely terrified while in the studio. He knows help is coming, he just needs to keep calm and safe until they arrive.

Mango: poor naive boy

Rosie: Overall, it's good logic. He needs to keep himself safe, and he needs to not fall into a mindless panic.

Mango: true

Rosie: But then he meets Sammy. Sammy is a lot of things (including crazy), but he knows that his "Lord" was born from a children's cartoon character, and probably wouldn't be happy with him if he tried to sacrifice a child.

Mango: ohhh boy

Rosie: So he tries to catch Harry, and move him to a "safer" place.

Mango: awww

Rosie: But he doesn't know about Harry's fight reflexes. The ones the wizarding world trained into him.  Sammy gets a stunner to the face for his efforts.

Mango: oof then he reverts to true salt briefly "listen, kid, i'm trying to keep you safe!"

Rosie: "I'm sorry! You startled me!" Sammy; What are you even doing here? Harry; I-I'm looking for someone.

Mango: "tell me their name, i might know of them"

Rosie: "Sammy, Sammy Lawrence. He-He was my Mum's Uncle. I wanted to find him." Cue silent shock.

Mango: sammy freezes up at that

Lili: I LOVE THIS

Rosie: 'I had a niece?' I think Sammy is going to be an older cousin of Harry's grand-dad. Like, a much older cousin.

Mango: "well, you found me, kid, now what?"

Rosie: (well hello awkward silence, how nice of you to join us.)

Mango: (XD)

Rosie: I dunno what would happen then, but I think it would "end" with the Goblins sending a full rescue team of Curse Breakers after the first few arrive and sense the sheer *volume* of dark magic from the studio, and then Sammy is living a mostly sane ink man with his great-nephew while being treated by the local magical hospital. And all wizards that show up at their door get the full brunt of Sammy Salt.

Mango: i want sammy getting salty at hogwarts

Rosie: I envision lots of shorts that would basically be "The Life and Times of a Wizard and an Ink Man".

Mango: yesssss

Rosie: Harry is very interested in Curse Breaking and Medical Magic now. Sammy is pissed that Hogwarts doesn't offer proper Music and Drama programs. "What do you *mean* you never had a music class there?!"

Mango: he has half a mind to storm up to the school and DEMAND an arts program

Rosie: "Get me an instrument, no one in my family is *not* going to know how to play *something* musical." Hell, he'd probably teach the kids *himself* with how offended he'd be at the concept. "I don't care if it's a bloody *recorder* Harry, you are going to learn to play music."

Trash Ma: he did have that flute hagrid made him in first year

Rosie: Oh, that's perfect!

Trash Ma: The one that sounded like an owl That Harry used to get past fluffy

Rosie: Yes. "My, that's actually quite nice. Now you'll need to hold it like this..." Sammy turns out to be pretty good with kids. Or, at least, he's good with Harry. I like this new idea. "Good Dad" Sammy. It has a nice ring to it.

Mango: sammy? a dad? yes please

Rosie: Or at least "Good Uncle" Sammy. I want to see wizards trying to handle Angry Ink Man Sammy acting in defense of his nephew.

Mango: y e s also, the Dursleys getting tried for child abuse

Rosie: Harder to pull with Sammy still being and ink man. He can't exactly stand up in court. Unless it was a Magical Court. Now then, back to Uncle Sam.

Mango: UNCLE SAM everyone at hogwarts being a little confused about harry's inky american uncle

Rosie: How about after finding out was his great-nephew, he gets super protective of him in the Studio.

Mango: y e s

Rosie: "Oh no, 'My Lord' can go *fuck* himself, I'm not letting him lay a *single finger* on you."

Trash Ma: So is sammu related to lily or james

Mango: and i am 1000000% behind uncle sammy protecting harry in the studio

Rosie: Lily.

Mango: sammy's the cousin of lily's grandpa, right?

Rosie: Lily's dad, Harry's grandpa. He's the older cousin of Lily's dad.

Mango: ah makes sense

Trash Ma: Harry's grandpa's name was also Harry  i mean not canonically but i like that

Rosie: I wrote it as Harold. He was named "Harry" in honor of him.

Trash Ma: yaaaaass

Mango: i like this

Rosie: Sammy is now also dead set on getting Harry out of the Studio safely. Even when the Salt is mostly replaced by Crazy, he still wants Harry out of there Safely. He ditches the Bendy mask at some point too.

Mango: he's not letting harry see that

Rosie: As the Curse Breakers extract more people/toons from the studio, they end up being placed under the care of House Potter, since Harry is letting the Goblins fund the clean out with money from the Potter vaults. Since his search was what started it all. So Harry's ending up with a big, messed up, traumatized, and mentally wounded family living under his roof.

Mango: LOTTA TOONS

Rosie: And Sammy ending up the "Boss" of the house since he's the "oldest member" of Harry's family (and is now his guardian thanks to the Goblins) What if Uncle Sam was one of those border-line Hover Parents? He doesn't hover Harry's shoulder, but he *does* repeatedly stuck his head in the room and go "Everything alright in here?" Also, someone starts laughing really hard the first time Sammy gets called "Uncle Sam". Then they start confusing people by quoting the recruiting posters. "Uncle Sam wants YOU!" "Oh, shut up, would you?" Harry is so confused.

Poe: Pfft

Rosie: I want Sammy to start having one of his "Prophet"- Episodes while Dumbledore is trying to talk him into sending Harry back to Dursleys. "No, it's not going to happen. I will not allow it. He WiLl nOt be gOinG BaCk to TheM!" "Uncle Sammy, please calm down! Professor, I think you should leave for now." Dumbledore; "Now Harry, I'm sure we can talk this-" Harry; "No sir, Uncle Sammy has some issues he's still recovering from. I need to stay because I'm the only one that's safe when it kicks in. You should *really* leave Professor." Sammy; "LeAVe uS, Old GOaT. Or YoU'lL be An OfFerEd sHeEP." *Sammy starts singing the Sheep song from the game*

Lili: :D But also D: I love it But poor everyone

Rosie: *Harry pulls Sammy away and shoves Dumbles out the door* And yet the Goblins still had proof that Sammy (even with his Schizophrenia) was a better guardian for Harry than the Dursleys. The Prophet is obsessively protective of Harry. And still does a good job caring for him. Lots of food, hugs- he's actually kind of dotting, to be honest. He just talks crazy while doing it. Harry has gotten very good at cleaning spells. They have this weird balance for who's the Kid and who's the Adult. When Sammy's head is clear, he's the stable adult that makes sure Harry is happy and healthy and doing well with the school stuff he has.

Poe: Oh my god that's so cute and also sad I love it

Lili: PERFECT MIX OF FLUFF AND ANGST

Rosie: When the Prophet is out, Harry is the one keeping track of things and making sure Sammy doesn't hurt himself or others, but still letting him dot. But the ended up being very good at it. And they both end up helping each other heal. Harry with getting Sammy stable mentally and recovering from the damage of being trapped in the studio for so long, and Sammy getting to be more comfortable with himself and with actually having family that cared about him.

Poe: Aww,,

Lili: :')

Rosie: And the Salty Ink Man ends up becoming an honorary Goblin

Poe: I love recovery stories so much okay This is my j a m

Lili: Recovery stories are great

Poe: Like my favorite part about angst and trauma is the recovery it's so good

Rosie: He finds out about the people profiting from the disaster that befell the Potter family, and his nephew. He gets them to put up libel fines for that Boy-Who-Lived crap, and fines for anyone that had taken stuff from the Godric Hollow house after it had fallen. (You *know* there were souvenir hunters that broke in for stuff) Harry is shocked that there are laws about that kind of stuff and why no one told him about them before.

Mango: i love the entire uncle sammy arc

Rosie: I think this would have started before Harry's third year of school. It's the only one I can think of where Harry could have had the time for the test and to gather the stuff for going overseas. I'm gonna say the stuff that leads to Harry going to Diagon happened earlier, so he had more time decided to to go the states instead of waiting until the end of the next school year. Since he did that, he ends up staying in the states of the first half of his third year. So ho doesn't know about Sirius be connected to the Potters until Sammy tries to get a look at the wills of Harry's parents, finds out they were sealed, and that Harry's Godfather had never gotten a trial.

Mango: tRIAL FOR SIRIUS, WOO HOO  i just really like sirius, doggone it

Rosie: Abso-freaking-lutely!

Mango: how well would sammy and sirius get along?

Rosie: And Dumbledore getting himself into trouble. Yes, once they got over the initial bumps in the road.

Mango: now i want sammy in prophet mode to call sirius a sheepdog

Rosie: Sammy would be mad at him for putting his need for revenge over his responsibility to care for Harry in his best friend's place.

Mango: rip

Rosie: But he feels like the 12 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit are enough of a punishment. So now he just has to *make it up* to Harry.

Mango: wait, who thinks that, sammy?

Rosie: Sammy thinks that about Sirius.

Mango: ah, okay "i suffered for over tHiRty YeArS in that damned studio before Harry came looking for me"

Rosie: As for Dumbledore, he's in a lot of hot water for sealing the will of an old pure-blood family,  and claiming it was to keep Harry's location a secret. And unintentionally blocking the path of justice while he was at it.

Mango: ffs dumbles

Rosie: What was the rest of Sammy's sentence? Was there more after what you wrote?

Mango: i just don't like periods but i was thinking that he’d say something like, "so don’t even SPEAK to me about imprisonment"

Rosie: Oh, it just sounded like he was going to say more. (Well, I don't think Dumbledore was a witness for the will, so he wouldn't have known what was in it. But with his firm belief in second chances, he could have thought that Petunia would have been listed as a safe person for Harry to be left with. I don't like a purely evil Dumbledore, I like him as a misguided person better)

Mango: that makes sense he still gets in trouble tho sammy and sirius head that train

Rosie: "Don't talk to me about imprisonment with me, just work to *make up* for not being there."

Mango: and then sirius DOES

Rosie: Yes.

Mango: and the prankster dad and the salty drama dad become friends

Lili: YES

Rosie: YES

Lili: ALL OF THIS

Rosie: Sirius also gets a good look at angry Prophet Sammy at some point, probably when the Minister ends up sticking his foot in his mouth.

Mango: hoo boy that’s gotta be scary

Poe: Ooo

Rosie: He also sees how well Harry is handling at handling his schizophrenic Uncle's episodes.

Mango: they're all one big happy family :D

Rosie: Yes, flawed families do the best job of filling in each other's gaps.

Mango: i want henry there too but i like henry too much

Rosie: At some point, Harry is dragged back to England because that's where his school is. But Sammy comes with him since they just *can't* leave him unattended. And I mean Sammy. Henry could be there. He and Harry could arrive at the same time.

Mango: :D

Rosie: Henry let's Harry come with him instead of letting the kid wander off on his own.

Mango: yesssss

Rosie: They get separated in the music department which is when Sammy tries to catch Harry, only to find out he was a great uncle and had never known.

Mango: henry finds harry again

Rosie: With Uncle Sam! And Hen is shocked by the state Sammy is in.

Mango: Sammy kind of guards harry from hen, almost not recognizing him

Rosie: And Harry is caught between wanting to tell them help would be coming for them and trying to keep magic a secret. He has to explain that Henry is a friend and not someone he needs to be protected from.

Mango: plot twist: henry's a small time wandmaker and knows about magic

Rosie: (To be honest, I like focusing on the Sammy-Harry relationship better)

Mango: (that’s fine, it’s your au. i just have a weird fixation)

Rosie: (is fine. I can understand it) Second half of Third year is Harry and Sammy continuing to fill in personal holes, fix legal stuff, and get used to their very weird lives. Oh, and Harry is working to catch up with all his missed work in school. He was spending his time in the states filling in the gaps in his general magical knowledge. And he's missing a *lot* of "common" knowledge. He never knew how much he didn't know until people were trying to talk to him about it. (Also, mango,  if you want to talk about how Hen would fit in, I don't mind. But I'll be focusing on Sammy shaking things up in the magical world.)

Mango: (maybe later, i don’t really have any ideas atm)

Rosie: I think that Harry ends up with a house (or something) in/near Hogsmead, so that Sammy won't be in the Castle as often as he would be if they were actually staying in the castle. Cause, you know, he's a schizophrenic with homicidal/volatile/violent tendencies Or at least somewhere close enough that Harry could hop on the train to get to school. Since there's no way that train *only* goes to Hogwarts and King's Cross.

Mango: no way in hell

Rosie: Harry kind of likes the new schedule, since he now sits in a small breakfast with his small family, then goes to the station to ride to school, has his school day (with lunch there), rides home, and has dinner with his family. Rinse and repeat. He doesn't have to deal with the fame games and student issues 24/7 anymore. And he loves it.

Poe: Aww How is his relationship with his classmates?

Rosie: I think the place they're all staying in is an old Potter family house, that was in a town that had a Hogwarts Express station. But it didn't see a lot of traffic since so few magicals lived near there. It was getting used again since Harry had sent a request for them to stop there for him to get too and from School. This is also re-implanting the idea of using the express for more than just getting to and from school during the holidays.  More students are taking weekend trips on the train to find out where else it goes. People organize train trips to plot out the routes the train travels (they had never thought about it before) Other parents meet ink man Sammy, and while weirded out by his appearance, they approve of his ideas about the school and caring for a magical kid. And dealing with magic in general.

Mango: imagine sammy becoming more famous than lockhart sAMMY WRITING A PARENTING BOOK FOR MAGICALS

Rosie: Sammy, though salty, is actually pretty likable and has lots of good ideas that magical parents like and muggle parents agree with. Yes. Henry is the co-author.

Mango: yesss i think sammy would hate snape tbh

Rosie: Sammy; "They need proper music and arts programs, how do you expect children to learn about those things if you don't teach them?" MugParent; "Exactly! How can they learn about what interests them if you don't expose them to it?" Oh heck yeah. Sammy may be salty, but Snape is just plain *cruel* to his students.

Mango: sammy goes full prophet on his ass

Rosie: Snape would do better dealing with older students who *honestly interested* in the subject than kids who are only there because it was required.

Mango: oh definitely

Rosie: Harry has to jump on his Uncle to keep the Prophet from stabbing Snape with an ingredient knife.

Mango: o o f

Rosie: After Snape was taking pot shots at Harry and Neville.

Mango: Understandable

Rosie: It was a protective rage. From that point on everyone works to keep Sammy and Snape separated.  Later on, Sammy makes the statement about Snape not being fit for teaching younger students when Harry tells him more about the man. And he makes it to someone on the Board of Governors.

Mango: oh damn.

Rosie: They agree with him.

Mango: that’s impressive

Rosie: He didn't know the person he was part of the Board. He was just making conversation with someone during a parent weekend.

Mango: ah now i’m just imagining him rant to like 20 different people at different times about snape

Rosie: Of course! He's too salty to keep to himself.

Mango: he’s also ranting about how hogwarts needs an arts and music course

Rosie: Yes. Harry's friends are unsure of ink Uncle.

Mango: sammy is good at ranting

Rosie: Hermione is horrified that Harry would skip out on half a school year to find a relative he'd never met, but Sammy talking about improving the school is lifting her opinion. Ron is amazed by the adventure Harry went on without meaning to, but Sammy scares him a bit.

Poe: This is so beautiful

Mango: ikr

Rosie: I wonder how Mr. Weasley would react to Sammy? Mrs. Weasley would probably not be happy about Harry living with him. She wouldn't think he was a good guardian because of his mental health issues.

Mango: coughablistcough

Rosie: I was working from the idea that she didn't think Sammy made a good guardian because Harry kept having to care for *him* instead of the other way around. Parents were supposed to be caring for their kids, not the other way around.  And, you know, she's stifling and kind-of controlling for anyone she thinks of as one of "Her" kids. (I think the reason her oldest sons all picked up jobs that took them away from home was so they could escape her coddling.) But Harry is more capable than she's giving him credit for, and even when being crazy it's clear he cares about Harry.  And Sammy doesn't treat Harry like he isn't able to tie his own shoes without help. Also, should there be actual toons in this AU? Or should they all be people that were used/altered by Joey?

Mango: i want to say actual toons

Rosie: It's a bit of a coin toss for me. Hence why I'm asking. Actual toons would be interesting and leaves room for recreating an alternate/new studio, but then I'd have to take time to explain how they could exist. With the people as toons, I can use stuff about Transfiguration how it was possible.

Mango: i vote option 2 then

Rosie: But the possibilities for both are fun too. *I need more than one person voting on this!*

Poe: I go with transfigured people because it functions better in the story and considering the magical world's problems with recognizing anything but wizards and witches as capable beings with rights unless you want to deal with that

Rosie: Okay, thank you. That is good reasoning. They will be transfigured people, and all receiving medical help thanks to Harry and Henry. Now I need to figure who's who in this. "Monster" Characters are: 'Bendy', The Prophet, Boris, Alice, Charley, Barley, Edgar, and the Projectionist.  Which Alice theory should I use? Alice = Susie, Alice = Allison, or Alice = Susie Mixed with Allison? And which characters should be the Butchers? (Boris is gonna be Wally, I think. Though it might be fun to use Shawn!Boris...) Bah, I’ll focus more on that later.  Harry asks to shuffle around his electives. Because now he's more interested in Curse Breaking and Healing magic than just getting easy grades.  Divination is dropped for Arithmancy, Care is kept (because Hagrid is the teacher and he wants to support him) and he adds Ancient Runes as a subject. Henry shares that the best way to show how well you understand something is to try and explain it to someone else. So when Harry gets home he explains what he's learned to Sammy (if he's okay), or Boris. (Harry also got tutors from the Goblins while he was in the states, so he's not that far behind in Testing levels.) (The Goblins don't mention that it's the *international* testing levels.) (Harry is confused when he finds he's *ahead* of his classmates when he gets back to Hogwarts) (Sammy is even more offended by the school standards then)

Poe: Aww Cute thiings

Rosie: Should the people from the studio be able to see the Thestrals, or no? Also, since Joey is 'Bendy', should he be salvageable? Or is he gonna be 6ft under?  You know, the more I think about it, the worse I realize the Hogwarts curriculum was. There were no math classes, no language classes, no writing classes, no art classes. Most parents would be frothing at the mouth over how unprepared those kids would be once they got out into the world. *I see so much Sammy Rage in the future of this AU.*

Mango: ***It shall be glorious**

Rosie: ***And we haven't even gotten to the chaos of fourth year yet.** ***Sammy is gonna hecking KILL the Minister if he gets his hands on him.**

Mango: HOO BOY

Rosie: Well, can you blame him?  Fudge has shot himself in the foot more times than I dare to count.

Teir: If I can voice my opinion, I think Joey should be salvaged :P. I don't really have a justification, just that he's an interesting character to have around

Poe: I think having him discover functional magic could be interesting,

Rosie: That could work.

Trash Ma: Mom says actual toons

Rosie: So that's 2 for People changed into Toons, and 1 for Actual Toons.

#Uncle Sam AU #batim #Bendy and the Ink Machine #sammy lawrence #batim sammy #crossover #crossover au #harry potter #batim au #Harry Potter au #finally turned that one into text #cut out so much that wasn't needed #am very happy with this #mook writing #mook conversation

[you-got-a-crush]

Request- Paired Up

manimariah88: Hey I was wondering if you could do an imagine where you and your crush get paired up to work on a school project and you’re not really friends. At first, the crush acts a little reluctant to work with you until you guys start talking more and find out you have a lot in common and then it’s all fluffy and cute from there lol

✨Of course! I added some more plot to it to make it more interesting and the fluff might be a bit lacking, but I hope you guys like it! Keep sending in requests and asks!✨

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

The way the back of his head looked today was amazing, absolutely dazzling. His hair mas slightly messed up in the back and I desperately wanted to run my hands through it mess it up even more. Just like every day there he was, distracting me like always. He had his hand resting perfectly against his cheeks and even from behind him I could picture his face smushed against his fingers. I bet I could draw the back of his head from memory from how much I find myself admiring it. Sure, it’s only the back, and sure, this doesn’t match the frontal view, but at this point anything at all can give my stomach butterflies. “Y/N! Are you paying attention back there?” My head snapped up just in time to see the entire class’s eyes on mine. There was an awkward pause, and the teacher at the front of the room gazed at me expectantly, a small smile starting to spread. I bet he just loved watching students suffer. “Um… Uh… Yeah?” Suddenly C/N turned around and joined the class’s stare down. He threw me a sympathetic look that made me both blush and want to say something more but it also made me want to sink into the floor and never show up to school again. “Ahem? Can you answer the question I just asked?” “Uh….” I scanned the class for any help, but sadly there was none, some kids were even laughing. Kill me now. I could tell that C/N’s soft eyes were still on me, “…I’m sorry, I can’t,” Some of the kids burst out laughing at my discomfort. Well I’m sorry if the teacher decided to call on me, it ain’t my fault if I’m distracted by a certain someone. “The question was, ‘what’s your favorite color?’,” my teacher replied, stifling a laugh. “Make sure to pay attention in class next time Y/N instead of oogling at boys,” I felt my face go beet red, some of the kids let out little ‘ooh’s or ‘get rekt’s. You know how before I said I wanted the ground to swallow me up? It felt like that, but times ten. As the class continued and the other student turned back around to face the teacher, I looked up through my eyelashes to see C/N still looking, the sympathetic look turned even softer and more pitying. That was probably the worst part, I don’t want him to pity me, I want to have deep conversations and sleeping under the stars with him. I want He must have seen me as some sort of wounded animal, and what if he knew that I was staring at him? The teacher just said any boy, but he could be suspicious. Thank god it’s the last period. “Okay class, this next project I’ll be picking your partners, so sorry C/N and C/F/N, you can’t be partners.” A series of groans littered the classroom, including my own. I just want to go home and take a nap is that all a girl can ask? I already have homework up to my neck and I can’t take on another project. Let’s just hope I can ride this one through. The teacher started talking again, relishing in the sadness the assigned partners brought the students, “This project will have to be done over the weekend, and must compare three evening television news programs and how they show bias, framing, and whether they are reliable to the public. This project can be a paper, a poster, a presentation, whatever. Here’s the rubric,” he said, picking up a stack of rubrics and throwing gem on the nearest desk, “the rest of the requirements are stated there.” “Now, the partners,” the teacher seemed to take forever in strutting to his desk, loading up his computer, and pulling up the spreadsheet in which he had payed out partner for each person, while doing this he added, “I grouped people together whom I thought share similar grades and have similar understanding of the unit so that the work load ends up being as equal as possible,” Suddenly the spreadsheet popped up onto the smartboard at the front of the room and my eyes were quick to analyze and spot where my name was. I looked and scanned farther and farther downwards and noticed that at the very end off as my name, and I didn’t have a partner. Yes! Now I can just do everything last minute and not let anyone down by doing the bare minimum! Until I saw C/N’s hand raise. Oh no. “Um, excuse me, I can’t find my name anywhere on there,” no no no no no. “Oh that’s okay, you can just work with Y/N since she’s alone,” Shit. Great. Wonderful. Ugh. As people started gathering their stuff and grabbing rubrics I watched as C/N without even glancing at me, slowly rose, took two rubrics from the front, and made his way over to my seat in the back. I stared, still stuck in panic mode, as he pulled up a chair and sat down in front of my desk, straddling the back of the chair. A few seconds went by where neither of us said anything, and believe me, it was extremely awkward. I wanted so badly to say something, anything, but I felt frozen in place. Why do I have to be so awkward? He suddenly cleared his throat, “So, what were you thinking of doing for the project? It doesn’t matter to me at all,” “Um, well it doesn’t matter to me either. Are you any good at drawing?” Oh jeez, what if he isn’t? Am I making him feel bad? Oh no he already hates me, he probably is wishing he had anyone else for a partner. Oh my gosh why do I have to- “Yeah I’m pretty good, you?” Smooth moves Y/N. “I was just thinking, if we are both pretty good at drawing and all that kind of stuff, then we could just do a poster?” “That’s a good idea,” a small toothy smile crept onto his face, and the same echoed onto me. Alright this is going better than expected. “So, do you want to come over to my house after school so we can get it done? I don’t think it’s going to be too hard of a project, just watch a bunch of TV and talk about it,” I laughed, but on the inside I was low key freaking out. “Oh, yeah, I’ll text my parents and see if it alright, but yeah,” “Cool, I’ll grab some poster paper on the way out, but I have a bunch of craft stuff at my house so don’t worry about all of that, my mom is obsessed with that kind of stuff,” “That’s good,” I have a light laugh and my nerves from before began to cease, just talking with him about small things made me feel calmer and more relaxed, like I could say anything I wanted to and talk for hours. “So, what television stations were you thinking on watching to compare against?” “Well, I really like to watch BBC Evening News so that can be one of them,” My face immediately lit up, “Oh me too! I don’t like watching any of the other evening news stations because I feel like they’re all way too biased anyways. I’d rather get the right info than just my own opinions echoing back to me,” “Same!” Well at least now I know we have one thing in common, which was a great thing. After we figured out which other news programs to watch for the assignment, we started finding the definitions for all of the vocab words we needed to use and planning out what the poster was going to looks like. It was all just light banter or talking about the project, to someone else it might just seem like any normal conversation, but to me it felt surreal, like it was only me and him left in the room. Everyone else drowned out by the soft and careful edges of C/N’s words, even just one words filling my senses with an indescribable melody full of feeling. At least, to me. We were both working quietly for about a minute before I looked up to catch C/N staring at me. Instead of quickly looking away like I usually would, I kept looking into his eyes, waiting for him to say something. “I’m really sorry what happened to you before, I mean, that whole thing with Mr, T/N, I hate when he picks on students like that,” “Thanks, but I don’t need any pity, I wasn’t paying attention and I should’ve seen it coming,” “No, it’s not right for him to do that, and to you of all people. Don’t make excuses for yourself, it was a dick move on his part, not yours.” “It’s really fine, you don’t have to stick up for me like that,” “I want to, not everyone in this world is as mean as he is,” I was speechless, my mouth agape, not able to form any words. Sure, I didn’t want him to pity me, and sure, I didn’t want him to see me as this small animal that needed to be taken care of, but his words. His words held meaning, and his face didn’t just hold sympathy it held actual care, like he could’ve felt the pain and embarrassment that I did in that moment. But I was probably over exaggerating, like usual. “Well thank you, it means a lot, especially for someone like me who can’t get a word in edgewise,” “No problemo mi amiga,” he gave me some awkward finger guns which I of course laughed at, and the conversation then returned back to the project, but I couldn’t help like I saw him in a different light. Like, before I only liked him from his outward looks and sense of humor during class, but now I saw that he had a deeper personality than that. A personality that I wanted to know even more about. “Oh and by the way,” I looked up again from my work, and saw his face dripping with cockiness and the previous toothy grin was replaced with a smirk, “I knew you were ‘oogling’ at me, I’m just mad that you haven’t caught me ever ‘oogling’ at you yet,” What?! The bell rang before I was able to reply, and he got up and gave a little wave before turning out of the classroom. What the hell? Did he just say what I thought he said? On the way out of the room he took one last sly glance back at me before accidentally running into the trash can positioned at the door. So much for looking badass. I tried to cover my laugh but it still could be heard as I too stood up and collected my belongings, C/N’s face was cherry red and was the last thing I saw before he dashed in a hurry out the door. Wait, am I forgetting something? Oh yeah, I forgot to ask where C/N lived. I ran out of the classroom door after him calling his name with a giant grin stretched across my face. Suddenly I thanked God that the ground didn’t swallow me up, since now I had the opportunity of a lifetime.

#request #crush imagine #crush #imagine #guys I really want some constructive criticism too because I don't know whether my writing is any good or not #like any constructive criticism is truly needed and wanted #four

[such-an-almighty-sound]

you go to the fog place yourself this time. it’s like turning to the side suddenly, a narrow periphery only open for a second. 

although you did not coordinate this, cm florence is already there, as though waiting. you register that she is wearing the white dress, patterned in vertical lines of embroidered flowers. it splits open at the knee and petals around her. cotton or something, vaguely soft. 

have you made up your mind?

i think so.

mm. i just want to look at your face for a moment before we go. here. you are already quite close in the fog. she takes your head between her hands and looks not really at you, but- you’re not sure what. her eyes flick back and forth for a moment, and then she makes a soft ohh in the back of her throat and smiles, lets go. i think we’re ready then. we can talk once we get there. the fog starts thinning out this way. 

and just like that, you’re walking after her, slightly behind, noticing once more her particular certainty about where her feet will fall. 

the fog begins to change color and then smell and then the ground shifts under your feet and turns both soft and compact-

the trees make a cathedral around you. 

the light falls down slowly through the canopy, softened and diffused by layers and layers of intersecting green boughs. a feeling of depth. under the vast scale of the red cedars, the muted light makes you feel as though you are deep deep underwater, peacefully swimming in something infinitely larger than yourself

florence’s bare feet stepping forward ahead of you, the tattoos on her ankles too fast / for freedom winking as she moves through patches of shadow and sunlight

your feet are bare too. the duff and compacted needles are cool and springy, slightly resilient underfoot. you do not leave footprints.

the clearing itself is held in the lap of an enormous redwood cedar. an irregular oblong framed with ferns, the edges slipping back into the paths that snake through the woods. park benches in a single line mark the far boundary of the space. the iron has grown almost green with sea patina, all fogged over and glassy. 

do you remember being here?

you raise your face, feeling the scent of sea and cedar, the soft light sifting down. all the bracken and ferns and ridges of earth where older trees used to be create a bowl around you, like being in a cupped green palm

yeah. it’s gentle but pungent, the smell of the cedar all around you, the cedar earth a fragrant dark rich red under your feet. red as old blood. the smell is like a prayer. you have pressed your face to it a hundred thousand times, in sickness and in health. 

you came back here? afterward, to this memory?

i think it was the last place i really felt safe, for a long time. something about being so ill and such beauty still existing in the world. it made sense to hold onto that. 

she nods. i thought it might be a good place for this. you have it in common between you.. you were here after bandon. you were so raw, and this was a calm eye in the middle of all that... you don’t have many of those. a wry, but gentle smile.

and i was alone here.

you were. which also makes it special, gives it that space we need, for our work. you are both quiet for a moment, having circled back around to your purpose, your reason for being here at all. forest noises fill in the space between you; calling birds, the distant thrush of waves.

are you ready? florence asks. i can go get her, but you can take as long as you need. she’s not touching you, but her hands want to: they halfmove, fold and unfold. wanting for a shoulder, your face, your own hands to touch. a hesitancy you’re not sure of. 

yes, you say. 

she looks as if she wants to say something very much, but begins to turn away, just brushing your shoulder with the verymost tips of her fingers. while still within distance she abruptly turns back and gathers you up, tightly. her hand, firm on your jaw, guides your face to look at her.

no matter how this goes i am very proud of you. a kiss on your left temple, a kiss on your right, and she’s gone, picking her way out of the clearing. 

you do not watch her walk away because you do not want to see the point when these trees become else, the vanishing point, that bridges between here and there. in your heart you would like these woods to continue on forever without ceasing, a green echoing that goes on and on. 

instead, you sit on one of the benches and wait. 

it is not long before florence walks back. an almost perfect echo of the night of the 27th: arms, blanket, body. the sunlight is behind her, slanting through the dense trees, throwing her silhouette into perfect relief. 

she sits down carefully near the far end of the bench, arranges them both. come around here to the other side, bucky, where there’s room for you. 

there’s room, but only enough. enough that it gives you only two choices, to sit or not. no edging away, no hiding. intimate, your leg against hers, your shoulders touching, you sit so close. 

florence holds the head of your younger self in her lap, body lying down the length of the bench. she sleeps, as you still do, curled tightly into herself, hands knotted under the blanket in the same way. and the distance, the years, the long and twisted miles of anger and tears and fighting and grief, folds up between you. two fuses, inches apart.

you feel your panic stir in your chest, the wet overwhelming one, like a hole bored clear through flesh. you take a breath, and take another, and realize that you can smell cedar and nurse logs and florence and cloth and very faintly the salt of the sea but you cannot smell the hospital on her skin. 

florence begins to resume the small rituals of tending. tucking hair back, tracing lines with her thumb and forefinger, making the blankets neater. light continual contact. she glances at you, then back down to her lap. i worry about her being cold. i know this… doesn’t change anything, but i do. i worry. she reaches down and parts the side of the blankets, takes the unconscious hands out and looks at them. covers them up in her own. so cold. you’re not sure you have the right to the pain on her face, but it’s there, all the same. 

small hands that used to be yours.

slowly, you reach out and lay your hand over your younger self’s. gently. deliberately. and nothing happens. her hand is cold, and bony and bruised, the fingernails shredded, joined to an arm lax with exhaustion that goes deeper than sleep.

you wait and nothing happens. something should, something catastrophic, something cataclysmic. you keep your hand there, half-tensed. almost unable to move for anticipating a blow that doesn’t come.

florence leans against you right then, her eyes half-closed. warm, calm.

is she breathing? you blurt, panicked. everything has always ended before here, and you don’t know how to go on

florence sits up, half-surprised. yes of course, look. she lays her hand flat between four electrode stickers.

i don’t know what to do. 

her hand rises and falls.

you don’t need to do anything. just keep breathing. keep holding her hand. remember you’re here and not there. 

where’s her telemetry unit? you keep noticing details you couldn’t remember in a dizzying influx of information. this body you can only remember clearly as someone else’s. there’s lanugo beginning on her arms. 

florence looks at you patiently. there’s no risk in her being here with us. you know how this goes. 

you are scared but you can only feel its current tugging at you, not pulling you down. there is further to go still.

what can you remember about that day? florence asks.

i remember i thought i would be in and out in an hour or so. there was an advertisement for the clinic on the radio as we drove there. it wasn’t a surprise. i always knew where we were going. the initial appointment took five hours. most of which was sitting in a cold sterile room alone waiting and losing track of time. i had never had to talk with a doctor one on one like that before. there was always someone else i could use as a distraction, a foil to bounce things off of and this time.. there wasn’t. i thought a lot of things but i didn’t ever think i would be going to the hospital that day. when doctor m. told me she apologized. and then...

and then? florence asks. 

and then i walked myself across the street into the hospital. and the programs took over from there.  there’s a lot that was frustrating because i had lost control of being able to do things for myself, because of protocols and just because.. i couldn’t do them. like not being able to walk anymore. being unable to get out of bed, having to page someone to do absolutely everything for me. not being able to be alone, ever. not being allowed to have the bathroom door shut. the very thing that saves you be the one that traps you.

everything was like that. the telemetry unit being an effective tracking device, refeeding... everything was so grounded in there being a body, in keeping myself in that body that i had tried for months and months to escape, to turn into something else 

and i didn’t want to be there but i didn’t want to be dead either, not really. although at the time i thought about bandon with this perverse kind of angry jealous longing. 

and all those doctors and nurses and cnas and mas working so hard to keep me rooted in a body i didn’t want to be in anymore

there’s what feels like a dichotomy between being angry and being scared and i.. i think i always chose angry then, too. 

-you were angry at yourself then, too?

yeah. i guess i was. you feel like you’ve opened a box that used to hold something important, and found it empty. all this time. 

sometimes you need time, bucky.

it’s just been this cycle, going on and on. endlessly perpetuating self-hate. you’re staring out, into the clearing as you speak. years and years of it.

but you’ve gone through and you’ve seen there’s no way you could have avoided- what happened happened. trauma is like a circle, she’s not free until you are and you had to see these things to be able to let go of blaming her, of blaming yourself.

the ouroboros, you say.

well, that’s one way of putting it.

you both (all three) sit for a moment, silent. then florence speaks

i think our time here is almost up. i’ve got to walk her back. she looks at you, that kind of gold light in her eyes. is there anything else you want to do before-?

you look at the face surrounded in blankets, imagine running your hand over it like she does. some things are still too far out of reach.

no.

okay then. 

a reversal of the night of the 27th. you’re walking behind them both, into the fog. it changes color and scent and becomes denser and more regular. you reach a doorway full of light and florence nods at you, walks through. there’s still the imprint of a smaller hand in yours. 

you wait the long minutes in the busying fog until florence comes back and grabs you up. she’s holding your head against her chest, rocking both of you back and forth.

i am so proud so proud of you. you’ve left her an opening. a way out!

i did. you mutter, unsure. i did. a pause. can we go somewhere else now?

-of course.

#nearly five years in the making okay #long post #CMF #dream talk #hospitalization tw #ed mention

[liposuctionbeforeandafter]

One time fitness

One time fitness; Most regular reason for not working out? Overview says: “No time.” But inspect that pardon at short proximity and you’ll see it’s as a rule about something more profound, says Lavinia Rodriguez, PhD, clinical clinician and creator of Mind Over Fat Matters: Conquering Psychological Barriers to Weight Management (iUniverse, 2008). “Normally, it’s absence of inspiration, absence of delight, negative affiliations, fear or possibly low confidence,” she says.

Occupied as we might be, we possess less inconvenience discovering energy for TV, person to person communication or even dull family unit assignments, Rodriguez watches, on the grounds that there just aren’t a similar soak mental boundaries to those exercises.

“A great many people are willfully ignorant about their wellbeing,” says wellness industry symbol Richard Simmons. “We as a whole have purposes behind not working out, but rather everything comes down to time administration and dread. Dread you’ll get injured. The Dread of humiliation. Dread of disappointment.”

One time fitness

Be that as it may, what we’d be in an ideal situation fearing, he says, is the thing that will occur on the off chance that we don’t work out. By what method will a stationary way of life influence you one year from now? In five or 10 years?

“Will you possess energy for various physical checkups?” he inquires. “Will you have sufficient energy and cash to take drug each day to treat hypertension, elevated cholesterol or diabetes?” Just as imperative, what do you remain to pick up by at long last taking your wellbeing off the back burner?

On the off chance that you need to work out, you’ll make the time. We talked with clinicians, practice researchers, big name mentors, creators and occupied ordinary individuals to understand the 25 most encouraging systems. One time fitness.

1. Make an Arrangement.

“The most ideal approach to set aside a few minutes for exercise is to have a composed arrangement,” says Chris Evert, 18-time Grand Slam tennis boss. “Choose the best time for exercise in your timetable and really enter it into your PC or phone logbook as a recurrent occasion. Along these lines it appears day by day and there’s less possibility of you planning something amid that time. Likewise, when you check your calendar early in the day, you’ll see it there and frame a psychological picture of when and how you’ll be practicing that day, which encourages you remain persuaded.”

2. Subdivide Your plan for the day.

As opposed to making one long plan for the day you’ll never total, isolate your rundown into three classifications, prompts Lisa Druxman, MA, practice advisor and organizer of the Stroller Strides (www.strollerstrides.com) and Mama Wants Her Body Back (www.mamawants.com) programs. “It’s insufficient to complete things,” she says. “You have to complete the correct things. It’s OK to have filthy garments in your hamper. It’s OK on the off chance that you don’t peruse each email the minute you get it. It is not OK to swindle your wellbeing.” Druxman recommends the accompanying plan for the day makeover:

Take out a sheet of paper and make three boxes that speak to the most imperative parts of your life (e.g., family, work, yourself).

Rundown the best three to-dos that would have the most effect in every classification. For family, it may cook or assisting with homework. The For work, it may return telephone calls or finishing an introduction. For yourself, incorporate exercise, in addition to something unique supporting, such as calling a companion or having a solid lunch.

At last, shut out occasions on your logbook for those particular to-dos, and respect those quite certain duties.

Experiencing difficulty choosing which to-dos are generally essential? “Consider the things that will have the most effect today as well as in 12 months’ time,” Druxman says

3. Discover five minutes.

Regardless of whether your day is pressed with gatherings and different duties, you totally can squeeze out five minutes for yourself, says Simmons. Also, that basic demonstration of self-care can possibly transform you. “I advise individuals it’s OK to begin, little.” A five-minute walk presently can without much of a stretch transform into day by day 30-minute strolls half a month from now. “You need to begin some place,” he says.

4. Farthest point screen time.

Don’t capriciously surf link channels or the Internet, says Rodriguez. That is a surefire approach to sit around idly you could be spending in more dynamic ways. Before you take a seat, set a period constrain (consider keeping a kitchen clock close-by to caution you when time’s up). The greater part of us once in a while watch demonstrates we don’t love since we’re exhausted, notes Franklin Antoian, CPT, author of iBodyFit.com. “Consider exchanging only 30 minutes of that low-esteem TV time for exercise,” he says. “My figure is you won’t miss it.”

5. Be a functioning watcher.

When you do stare at the TV, take advantage of it. Do some ball-crunches, boards, yoga presents, squats, rushes or pushups while you’re viewing. Keep wellness hardware, for example, a portable weight, obstruction groups and a hop rope, close to the TV. Or then again utilize the business breaks to blend in a word cardio interims. Keep running set up or here and there the stairs; do some burpees or hopping jacks. One time fitness.

6. Representative like there’s no tomorrow.

Reassess family unit tasks: Can the children do clothing? Could your life partner cook supper? What proficient undertakings would you be able to hand off so you can get out for a stroll at lunch or stop by the exercise center in transit home? Try not to believe you’re the special case who can do everything you’re presently doing. See, as well, for things that should be possible less regularly — or that will not have to complete by any stretch of the imagination. One time fitness.

7. Be propelled by cash.

Putting some cash on hold may furnish you with the inspiration you have to appear for action. Agree to accept a yoga workshop, book a few sessions with a fitness coach, or plunk down some money for a race or other athletic occasion you’ll need to prepare for. Calendar a sitter to watch the children while you go for a run. Or then again take a couple of salsa exercises. One time fitness.

8. Think positive.

Analysts propose that effectively altering your negative self-talk designs is a ground-breaking approach to help more beneficial way of life decisions. For instance, whenever you find yourself considering, “I am excessively occupied with, making it impossible to work out,” reword the idea in more positive, engaging terms, for example, “I make myself a need.” Or, “I do have sufficient energy to be sound.” Or, “I will accomplish something dynamic today.” Over time, those positive idea examples will elbow out the negative ones, helping you to see your accessible decisions all the more obviously.

9. Be a hot date.

Supper and a film is so antique, says Shannon Hammer, powerful orator and creator of The Positive Portions Food and Fitness Journal (Fairview Press, 2010). Imagine a scenario in which, rather, you took your date/accomplice/love-enthusiasm to a cycling class or a couples dance exercise, went on a climb or an excursion, or kicked a soccer ball around the recreation center. Reward: Research demonstrates that mutual movement assembles fascination. One time fitness.

10. Do energetic business.

Odds are, a large number of your associates are in indistinguishable pontoon from you: They need to work out, however experience difficulty finding the time. Things being what they are, imagine a scenario in which you move the week by week advance refresh or meeting to generate new ideas to the walkway, or remain amid gatherings. Can your gathering climb to the bistro instead of request in? Would you be able to charm another customer over a tennis match rather than supper? The outside air and endorphins will start more imaginative thoughts, Hammer says.

One time fitness

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One time fitness

#one time entry anytime fitness #one time key fee anytime fitness #one time visit to anytime fitness

[stephmolliex]

The other problem with Apple's content restrictions -- creative freedom

Apple is reportedly resistant to sex, violence, and drug-related material in its upcoming content push. AppleInsider looks at why a lack of controversial shows might not be the only problem with Apple's TV approach. For most of the last year, Apple's upcoming foray into TV content has been framed a certain way. The company is spending billions of dollars to get into business with well-known talent and greenlighting a couple of dozen shows, even as it's never been clear exactly when Apple's TV efforts will launch or what distribution scheme it will use. The company has even made its initial move into feature film acquisition. There's been some amount of hand-wringing over whether tech companies can beat Hollywood at their own game, but overall Apple has been seen as a likely major player in the TV space going forward. But Apple's plans got a major wave of bad press following the publication over the weekend of a Wall Street Journal story with the headline "No Sex Please, We're Apple: iPhone Giant Seeks TV Success on Its Own Terms." According to the piece, which cited producers and agents, Apple is shying away from shows that depict "gratuitous sex, profanity or violence," with "religious subjects and politics" also on the no-no list. Key for Apple, according to the reporting, is keeping up its family-friendly image and avoiding any controversy that could hurt its core business. Forgot about Dre The Journal story opens with an anecdote about Apple CEO Tim Cook, a year ago, viewing an episode of "Vital Signs", described as "a dark, semi-biographical tale of hip hop artist Dr. Dre." After Cook watched the show, which included "characters doing lines of cocaine, an extended orgy in a mansion and drawn guns," he declared that Apple could not show such a thing, and torpedoed the show. "Vital Signs" had been announced in 2016, although it never arrived and its exact fate remained a mystery until this week. Assuming the anecdote is true, it's unclear exactly what Apple was expecting from a "semi-autobiographical tale" of Dr. Dre, especially since Cook and Apple presumably did some amount of due diligence back in 2014 when they bought Beats from Dre for $3 billion. It was also reported back in early 2016 that "Vital Signs" was viewed at the time as more of a promotional vehicle for Apple Music than a harbinger of Apple's entry into the TV business. Apple does have some shows in the works with mature themes, including a potential series about the life of the late pop star George Michael, and a series from two of the creators of the long-running, notoriously ribald comedy series "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." But overall, Apple's TV efforts are taking on a family-friendly tint. At any rate, the Journal includes several examples of Apple objecting to content on the shows that are in development. Filmmaker M. Night Shyamalan, developing a show for Apple, was asked not to include crucifixes in a scene. Apple rejected an idea for a show starring comedian Whitney Cummings as "a college ombudsman in the era of #MeToo." And the most high-profile announced series in Apple's lineup, a show about TV morning news, to star A-listers Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon, has been delayed due to disagreements with Apple executives about its tone. The Journal story -- and various follow-up pieces -- have pointed out that Apple could be hurting themselves by largely avoiding more mature programming. After all, prestige TV has long been synonymous with nudity, violence, and other controversial content. TV-MA "The Sopranos" was loaded with sex, violence and profanity, as is its successor as HBO's marquee series, "Game of Thrones." Netflix has never been shy about risque material, and when Amazon started making TV shows, its first breakthrough was "Transparent," a groundbreaking drama series about a family patriarch (Jeffrey Tambor) who comes out as a transgender woman. And "Breaking Bad," which was supervised at Sony TV by current Apple content executives Zack Van Amburg and Jamie Erlicht, got very dark and very violent very often throughout its run on AMC. One could make the case that Apple is handicapping themselves by avoiding any sex, violence, drugs, religion, politics, or any other subject matter that could conceivably be called controversial. Apparently some within Apple agree- according to the Journal, employees inside Apple in Los Angeles have taken to calling the content project "Expensive NBC." But there's another issue, raised the Journal story, that should raise questions about Apple's content plans. Creative control Beyond the conflict restrictions, there's another continuing theme in the Journal story, one of Apple executives interfering with the visions of creators of the new shows. One show was spiked before it debuted, others had showrunners replaced, and still others had executives give notes on small aspects of their shows. Some level of what's called "studio interference" is always to be expected, and has been for long as there have been movies and TV shows. After all, it's Apple's billions that are funding the enterprise. But it's not hard to imagine word getting out in the creative community that Apple isn't a place where showrunners and other artists are given as high a level of autonomy as they are in other places. Adding to this is the possible perception that Tim Cook and Eddy Cue, accomplished as they are, do not come from a background of running or overseeing a TV or movie studio. Contrast that with future competitor Netflix, which in the last six months has made nine-figure deals to lure three major TV showrunners -- Shonda Rhimes, Ryan Murphy and Kenya Barris -- from their previous networks. Those deals have granted those creators not only massive amounts of money, but a high level of creative freedom. This is especially important for someone like Barris, the creator of "Black-ish," who frequently clashed with ABC Studios brass over that popular show. So the next time a major artist is deciding where to set up his or her next big project, that person might look at the deals Netflix is giving out, and choose them over Apple, where they might not get the chance to push the envelope, or get final say over major aspects of their show. And such a perception could hurt Apple in the long run. "When you have a large platform, there's a large responsibility" No, Apple's planned content restrictions are not "censorship," as Daily Telegraph ludicrously stated in a headline. Apple can air or not air whatever content it chooses on their own platform. It remains not a public venue, and can police its platform, and its devices, any way it sees fit. Even so, Apple has never been as much of a free speech absolutist as some other companies in the tech space. Eddy Cue, speaking at South by Southwest last spring, articulated Apple's view in the matter. "We think when you have a large platform, there's a large responsibility," Cue said. "From the music store, to the app store, to podcasts, we had a bunch of rules, we came up with guidelines that had to be followed in order to participate in that. "At times we got some heat for it, people weren't happy that we had guidelines. The other part is that no one is completely free. There's no such thing as free," Cue said to applause. "There's no pornography on any of these sites, so people do draw lines, and you can decide where you want to draw the line. We do think free speech is important, but we don't think white supremacist speech or hate speech is free speech that ought to be out there." This issue came up again in recent weeks, as Apple dropped conspiracy theorist Alex Jones' InfoWars, first from Apple Podcasts, and about a month later from the App Store. In July, Apple also removed QDrops, an app geared towards adherents of the "QAnon" conspiracy theory, from the App Store. While he didn't address the subject of controversial shows, Cue addressed Apple's content plans in the same speech, stating that "we're not after quantity, we're after quality" and citing Steve Jobs' former leadership of Pixar Animation Studios as an inspiration, with lessons for the Apple of today. "We want things that are of great quality," Cue said. "That doesn't mean everything will be a hit, but everything should be very very high quality, and I think that's where we will stand out." The Disney precedent There are ways for Apple to have controversial content on its platform without sullying their image. This is a question that's long been faced by Disney, another venerable family-friendly brand that was also associated with Steve Jobs. When you think of Disney, you probably think of Mickey Mouse, or princesses, or Walt Disney World, or other characters or brands associated with children and families. More recently, Disney has leveraged its ownership of Star Wars and Marvel to add to its stable of kid-friendly characters, as these days you're as likely to run into a Storm Trooper at Disney World as you are Mickey or Goofy. But Disney is such a corporate behemoth that it has its hand in a lot of things, from Hulu to the newly acquired Fox TV properties to the Touchstone Pictures movie imprint, that are at times more adult-oriented. Whether Disney is facing similar restrictions when it launches its own streaming service next year is a question that's come up before -- reports in August said it would omit all R-rated content -- but that will only serve to give Apple a direct, family-oriented streaming competitor. The streaming future Apple's content launch, according to the Journal piece, is currently set for March 2019, although there are chances it could be delayed even further. With billions at stake, and no particular product cycle dictating the timing of the launch, Apple seems likely to prioritize getting it right over getting it out fast. Apple is clearly playing a long game with its content plans. They've got billions of dollars invested, and even if the first wave of shows is plagued by problems, there's plenty of room for course correction and changes in strategy with barely a blip in Apple's financials. Amazon got off to something of a slow start with its content plans, and it also took Netflix years to build out itself out into a streaming collossus. But when it comes to whether Apple's service will succeed, relationships with talent may end up as just as important a factor as any. The question surrounding the avoidance of mature content is less about immediate viewership attraction, and really whether Apple can maintain those relationships with the stable of creators, making it the right one for the company. https://goo.gl/GGeGLM

[albertogabel82-blog]

7 Tips To Beat Mental Eating While On Your Lap Band Trip!

The quickest way to offer Lafayette a present is actually to use our secure offering type online. To assert your complimentary e-newsletter offering pointers and also ideas about organic sex variety and also to view particulars from a tried and tested, 3 step complete risk-free strategy of effective ways to have a child kid, which has actually proven to become 95% correct, satisfy explore the internet site listed below. Fasting, Diocesan Marc Andrus was mentioning, failed to have to have to do with self-denial for its own benefit, or giving up some trifle simply to really feel self-righteous. Lorraine Matthews-Antosiewicz, MS RD, is actually a meals and health and nutrition specialist providing services for weight administration. Create her use a variety of cycles from sluggish as well as rapid rates making her range severe sexual climaxes in an incredibly short time. 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Concentrating on vital locations - One necessary factor that you ought to think of when giving away your fliers are actually the areas that you intend to most likely to for circulation.

[the-hows-blog]

How to Save Money

Steps

Kill your debt first. Simply calculating how much you spend each month on your debts will illustrate that eliminating debt is the fastest way to free up money. Once the money is freed from debt payment, it can easily be re-purposed to savings. Plus, the sooner you pay off debt, the less interest you’ll pay, and that money can be saved instead.                                                                   -  If you choose to start saving before you completely pay off your debt, however, look into consolidating your debts so that you’re not paying as much interest.                                                                                                         -  The only money-saving that should take precedence over getting out of debt is to create an emergency fund (setting aside enough money so that if you lose your income, you can survive for 3-6 months). If you don’t already have an emergency fund, you should start contributing to one immediately.

Set savings goals. For short-term goals, this is easy. If you want to buy a video game, find out how much it costs; if you want to buy a house, determine how much of a down payment you’ll need. For long-term goals, such as retirement, you’ll need to do a lot more planning (figuring out how much money you’ll need to live comfortably for 20 or 30 years after you stop working), and you’ll also need to figure out how investments will help you achieve your goals.        

 Establish a time-frame. For example: “I want to be able to buy a house two years from today." Set a particular date for accomplishing shorter-term goals, and make sure the goal is attainable within that time period. If it’s not attainable, you’ll just get discouraged.  

 Figure out how much you’ll have to save per week, per month, or per paycheck to attain each of your savings goals. Take each thing you want to save for and figure out how much you need to start saving now. For most savings goals, it’s best to save the same amount each period. For example, if you want to put a $20,000 down payment on a home in 36 months (three years), you’ll need to save about $550 per month every month. But if your paychecks amount to $1000, it might not be a realistic goal, so adjust your time-frame until you come up with an approachable amount.

Keep a record of your expenses. What you save falls between two activities and their difference: how much you make and how much you spend. Since you have more control over how much you spend, it’s wise to take a critical look at your expenses. Write down everything you spend your money on for a couple weeks or a month. Be as detailed as possible, and try not to leave out small purchases. Assign each purchase or expenditure a category such as: Rent, Car insurance, Car payments, Phone Bill, Cable Bill, Utilities, Gas, Food, Entertainment, etc.                                                                                              -   Keep a small notebook with you at all times. Get in the habit of recording every expense and saving the receipts.                                                                -  Sit down once a week with your small notebook and receipts. Record your expenses in a larger notebook or a spreadsheet program.                                      -  There are also many apps you can download to your phone that will help you keep track of your expenses.

Trim your expenses. Take a good, hard look at your spending records after a month or two have passed. You’ll probably be surprised when you look back at your record of expenses: $30 on ice cream, $10 on parking tickets? You’ll likely see some obvious cuts you can make. Depending on how much you need to save, however, you may need to make some difficult decisions. Think about your priorities, and make cuts you can live with. Calculate how much those cuts will save you per year, and you’ll be much more motivated to pinch pennies.                                                                                                       -  Can you move to a less expensive apartment or house? Can you refinance your mortgage?                                                                                            -  Can you save money on gas, or give up a car altogether? If your family has multiple cars, can you bring it down to one?                                                  -  Can you get a better price on insurance? Call around and make sure you are getting the best price you can. Consider taking a higher deductible, too. -  Shop the discount racks at clothing stores. Items on clearance are marked down considerably and could save you 50% of the price.                             -  Can you drop a land line and either only use your cell phone or save money by calling over the internet for free with services such as Skype?                                                     -  Can you live without cable or satellite TV?                                           -  Can you cut down on your utility bills?                                                 -  Can you restrict eating out? Buy food in bulk? Start using coupons? Cook more at home? You might be able to save a lot of money when grocery shopping.

Reassess your savings goals. Subtract your expenses (the ones you can’t live without) from your take-home income (i.e. after taxes have been taken out). What is the difference? And does it match up with your savings goals? Let’s say you’ve decided you can definitely get by on $150 per month, and your paychecks amount to $230 per month. That leaves you with $80 to save. If there’s absolutely no way you can fit all your savings goals into your budget, take a look at what you’re saving for and cut the less important things or adjust the time-frame. Maybe you need to put off buying a new car for another year, or maybe you don’t really need a big-screen TV that badly.

Make a budget. Once you’ve managed to balance your earnings with your savings goals and spending, write down a budget so you’ll know each month or each paycheck how much you can spend on any given thing or category of things. This is especially important for expenses which tend to fluctuate, or which you know you’re going to have a particularly hard time restricting. (E.g. “I will only spend $30 a month on movies/chocolate/coffee/etc.")

Stop using credit cards. Pay for everything with cash or money orders. Don’t even use checks. It’s easier to overspend when you’re pulling from a bank or credit account because you don’t know exactly how much is in there. If you have cash, you can see your supply running low. You can even bundle up the predetermined amount of cash allocated for each expense with a label or keep separate jars for each expense (e.g. a bundle/jar for coffee, another for gas, another for miscellaneous). As you pull money from a jar for that particular expense, you’ll see how much remains and you’ll also be reminded of your limit.                                                                                                 -  If you need to have credit cards but you don’t want the temptation of having them available to use day-to-day, restrict that section of your wallet with a note or picture reminding you of your savings goals.                                      -  Credit cards are not inherently evil; it’s all about your self control. If you use them responsibly (i.e. completely pay them off every month), you can benefit from them. But the reason most credit card companies make money, however, is because people end up spending money that they don’t have. Unless you are one of the people who can religiously pay off the balance in full every month, you’re better off foregoing the promotions that credit card companies use to lure you in (cash back, introductory APR, airline miles, and so on).

Open an interest-bearing savings account. It’s a lot easier to keep track of your savings if you have them separate from your spending money. You can also usually get better interest on savings accounts than on checking accounts (if you get interest on your checking account at all). Consider higher-interest options such as CDs or money-market accounts for longer savings goals.

Pay yourself first. Savings should be your priority, so don’t just say that you’ll save whatever is left over at the end of the month. Deposit savings into an account (or your piggy-bank) as soon as you get paid. An easy, effective way to start saving is to simply deposit 10% of every check in a savings account. If you get a check or sum of cash, say 710.68, move the decimal point one place to the left and deposit that amount: 71.07. This works well and requires little thought; over several years, you’ve a tidy sum in savings.                                                                                         -  You can set up an automatic transfer from your checking account to your savings account.                                                                         -  Many employers allow you to deduct savings from your paycheck. The money is directly deposited in your savings account so you never even see it on your paycheck.                                                                           -  You can also have investments for retirement taken directly out of your pay, and the taxes may be deferred with this option. Your employer may offer a 401k matching program for retirement as well making it even more worthwhile to save.

Don’t get discouraged and don’t give up. You may not think you can become wealthy but to become a millionaire is possible if you set up a aggressive savings plan and stick to it. You may be surprised how much money you can put away for something far more enjoyable than what you could buy with short term savings. Good things often take time and the longer you save the more interest you will be making on your savings as well!

Tips

- Every time you go to buy something think of the thing you are saving for and the rough percentage of your savings so far that the thing costs and quite often you won’t buy it.

- Always over-estimate your expenses and under-estimate your income.

- If you can afford to share things you have, from food to living space to appliances, try to do so. What goes around comes around when it’s between close friends, soon enough, you’ll find your friends doing the same, and everybody benefits.

- Take care of your possessions. In this way, you’ll need to replace items less. Also, don’t replace items until it’s absolutely necessary. For instance, just because a motor in an electric toothbrush breaks doesn’t mean it stops functioning as a toothbrush. Continue to use it, and when ready go buy a new one or check the warranty.

- Have a hobby? Match your funds. One important habit for saving is if you have a hobby, such as model airplanes, scrap-booking, dirt biking, scuba diving, etc., set a hard and fast rule that whatever you allow yourself to spend on your hobby, you match those funds to your savings. For example, if you buy yourself a $45 pair of riding gloves, another $45 goes to your savings. Serious about saving? Try doubling your matched funds! These savings plans will do two things: Save money regularly and quickly, and really show you how much you are spending on your hobby, when it costs you twice as much.

- If you receive unexpected cash, put all or most of it into your savings, but continue to set aside your regularly scheduled amount as well. You’ll reach your savings goals sooner.

- Make purchases with paper money, not exact change, and always save the change. Use a piggy bank or jar for your coins. Coins and change may look insignificant but when accumulated over time they can help you save. Some banks now offer free coin counting machines. When you redeem your coins, ask to be paid by check so you won’t be tempted to spend your new found cash.

- Most people can save something regardless of their income. Starting to save a little will help build the habit of saving. Even saving as little as $5 a month will teach you that you don’t need as much money as you think.

- If you can’t bring yourself to destroy all your credit cards, at least freeze them. Put them in a container, fill it with water, and stick it in a freezer. That way, if you feel the urge to use credit, you have to wait until the ice melts, and during that time you may come to your senses and realize you don’t really need to buy what you wanted to buy.

- If you get paid about the same amount on a regular basis, it’ll get easier to budget your money over time. If you have a variable income, it’ll be harder to anticipate your expenses because you won’t know when’s the next time you’ll get paid. List your budget categories in order of importance and fulfill the most important items first. Play it safe; assume it’ll be a while before you get money again.

- Use affirmations. For example, repeat this affirmation to yourself until it sinks in: Debt is not an option.

- Enjoy the simple pleasures in life. During the Great Depression, people still had fun, just not lavishly expensive fun. Children had soapbox derbies, teenagers had dance contests, and everyone played Monopoly, did puzzles, read, and listened to the radio. Get together to discuss philosophy or pray; play poker or make crazy quilt pillows; play instruments and dance. In those days, it took some imagination and ingenuity, but they had a lot of fun without hanging out at the mall, and you can too. Many of the friendships and alliances formed during the Great Depression on the basis of such activities stood the test of time.

- Try to find at least one penny on the ground everyday. Put the money you find in a jar and see how fast it adds up!

- Even if you REALLY want something, ask yourself, do you REALLY need this? More than half of the time it will be a big no.

Warnings

- If you have spendthrifts in your circle of friends, you may need to formulate a list of ready excuses to explain why you can’t go out with them all the time.

- Do not go out “window shopping" with any money on you. You will only be tempted to spend money you cannot afford to lose. Only shop with a predetermined shopping list.

- After a long week of working, you may want to indulge in some luxury, telling yourself, “I deserve this". Remember that the things you buy are not gifts to yourself; they are trades, products for money. Say, “Of course I deserve this, but can I afford it? If I can’t afford it, I’m still a worthy person, and I stilldeserve to meet my savings goals!"

- Unless you’re in truly desperate financial straits (like 10 seconds from eviction and your three children are starving) don’t try to cut corners connected to health. Basic preventative care for yourself, your family, and your pets might cost you a $60 office visit or a $30 heart-worm pill today, but the skipping it will contribute to expensive problems and heartache down the road.

- If you do mess up don’t beat yourself up about it. Just try to do better the next time you get paid.