#other sculptor wanted to do it so I said sure whatever just keep it simple cuz I want to make a flock of these guys

[bookrat]

A pair of Scutellosaurus have a disagreement

#scutellosaurus #sculpture #paleoart #I didn't paint the first one looking on from the first pic #other sculptor wanted to do it so I said sure whatever just keep it simple cuz I want to make a flock of these guys #and I guess he didn't believe me or something cuz he went all out on it and I got stuck trying to match that nonsense #like what the fuck dude #anyway there's 3 now but what if I made 4 smaller juveniles to go with them #can I just have a giant flock of armor birds

[auspicious-lilana]

Two Cats, One Heart (Chat Noir x reader)

Summary: Y/n Ross and Adrian Agreste are childhood best friends, they’ve been through thick and thin, including losing their mom, and dad. Since then Y/n’s mom made her live with Adrian at his mansion and forever leaving her life. Watch as their lives Change as they become the new heroes of Paris alongside Ladybug and see how Romance sprouts between the two models.

Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6  

"You don't have to stay, N/n."  Adrian said as he was in his fencing gear.

"I don't mind."  I said, shrugging it off as I sat on a the side bench. "Not like I have anything better to do. We go to our photoshoot together half a hour after this."  

"But you could go and have fun instead of staying here in a sweaty training room full of boys."  

"I am having fun."  I said with a smile. "I'm with you."  Adrian blushed slightly before grinning.

"You should watch your words, shortie."  Adrian chuckles. "You almost made me think you might have a crush on me."  

"I'll try."  I winked.

***

I checked the time to see it was almost  time for the unveiling ceremony. I looked to see Adrian fencing.

"Hey, uh. Adrian?"  I asked as he stopped to look.

"Yeah?"  

"I'm going to go out for a bit, starting to see how stuffy a room can get."  I chuckled as Adrian nodded.

"Sure, Stay safe."  

"I will, goldilocks."  I picked up my bag as I left the room, not knowing of the class of boys asking who I was, or if I was available towards Adrian.

I casually walked in the hallway before running in the girl's bathroom, going in a stall.

"If you thought that room was stuffy,"  Alpha said, coming out. "Try being in your bag for 2 hours."  

"Oh hush, Drama Queen."  I rolled my eyes. "Now we got a unveiling to be at."  

"We?"  

"Oh right,"  I said, grinning. "Lady Wolf  has to be there, Y/n Ross will have to go now."

"Can I eat fir-"  

"Alpha, Tails out!"  

***

"Hey, Kitty."  I said,jumping down the stage to meet Chat Noir.

"Hey, Petit Loup."  Chat purred as I scratched behind his ear as I chuckled when he nearly fell back once I pulled my hands back unknown to the jealousy fueling man behind us.

"Excuse me?"  A brown haired man asked us nervously. "Lady Wolf?"  

"That's me."  I grinned.

"I was wondering-"  

"Lady Wolf!" a group of students began to cheer as I got distracted by the cute little kid dressed as me.

"Hey kids!" I said, bending down to the little girl. "You look fierce."  The little girl giggled as I sheepishly grinned.

"Can I ask you a question?" Alya asked as I stood up.

"Shoot away!"  

{Third POV}

Théo sighed as he reached his arms out to Lady Wolf who slowly got crowded.

"What's with the long sigh?" Chat asked, curious.

"It's just that, I wanted to ask her to autograph this photo. She's amazing. She's so brave and courageous. the way she makes you just feel safe with a smile..."  Théo daydreamed as he looked at the photo of Lady Wolf as Chat frowned. He loved Y/n, but some small part of him felt familiar with Lady Wolf, as if he known her forever.  

"Perhaps the ceremony should commence. It might bring ladybug here faster."  The Mayor said to Chat Noir.

***

" ...I'm there!"  Marinette said, entering the boys locker, looking for Adrian's phone to delete the voicemail.

"Oh boy."  Tikki said.

"Which one his's?"  Marinette panicked.

"If you call him, you can make his phone ring."  

"Nice, Tikki."  Marinette called him before she pressed her ear on every locker.

***

"It's only proper for Paris to pay homage to those to protect us from evil."  The Mayor announced as the statue was soon unveiled. "Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Lady Wolf."  

Théo sighed before smiling as Lady Wolf approached him.

"so what was your question."  

"I was wond-"  Lady Wolf's phone (her baton) began to ring. "You should."  he sighed.

"No, I'm sure it's not that important."  

"Maybe it is."  

"If you insist."  Lady wolf took out her baton as she jumped to a private place before going to answer the phone.

"These statues are amazing. One thing's slightly off though"  Chat said as he crouched on the statue next to Théo. "I remember being taller than Lady Wolf."

"I never got the chance to ask her for her autograph." Théo sighed sadly. " I just wanted to express my adoration for her. Let her know that everything I had went into her statue. I'm sure if she took a little time to get to know me, she would see how much we have in common. Our devotion to the things we love."

"Hey, I don't mean to burst your bubble."  Chat said, putting his arm Théo.  " but you know, Lady Wolf and me, we're a thing, you know?"  

"Really?"  

"Yeah, we're like this." Chat crossed his fingers. "Didn't you see before?"  Théo growled and pushed Chat from his grips as he stormed off.

"What does Lady Wolf see in him?"  He growled. (A/n: I don't know, A cute black cat with a spoonful of cat puns?)

***

The ceremony soon ended as Chat and Lady Wolf said their goodbyes. Chat went back to the school as Lady Wolf went to a alleyway near the school as soon after they all went home.

"Where is it?"  Adrian frustratedly said as he searched all over his gym bag before glaring at Plagg who ate his cheese carelessly.

"What are you looking at me for?"  Plagg said, feeling accused.  "I didn't eat! I swear!"  

{Y/n POV}

"Hey N/n!"  Adrian shouted from his room, knowing from the thin walls that I'd hear.

"Yeah?!"  I shouted back, not looking up from my phone screen as I played piano tiles.

"Come here!"  I groaned as I missed a tile.

" 'kay!"  I dropped my phone on my table as I got up stretching.

"Wonder what's up with pretty boy."  Alpha asked.

"Don't know,"  I said. "Can't be that bad though, c'mon."  Alpha went in my pocket as I left my room, entering Adrian's. "You called?"

"Have you seen my phone?"

"Your phone? No, you lost it?"  I asked as I laid on his couch.

"Must have dropped on my locker room."  Adrian groaned.

"Don't worry too much of it." I sat up. "You'll find it in no time."

"And if I don't?"  

"Buy a new one."  

"But setting up and getting my contacts back is a pain."  Adrian groaned as he fell on the couch.

"Relax, it's probably still in the locker room as we speak."  I said. "We'll get it right now."  I got up as I grabbed Adrian's hand as I dragged him out the door, not seeing him quickly take Plagg behind my back.

***

"And in some astonishing news, there's been a spectacular theft at the Louvre."  The car radio tv on the chair  spoke as Adrian and I looked at each other confused. "Amateur video showed without a shadow of a doubt that the thief is none other than the famous hero, Cat Noir."

"What?!"  we both said in shock.

"Cat's meow?" Adrian mumbled as the car stopped at the school.

"I'll go look in the gym and you check the locker room?"  I suggested as we both nodded as we ran separate ways. I stopped at the gym door, before looking around and heading in the bathroom.

"Chat is a lot of things."  I said as Alpha came out once I went in a stall. "But thief isn't one of them. I just know it's a fake."

"Because your love for him is so strong."  Alpha mocked.

"Whatever."  I said, rolling my eyes. "We have a kitty to prove innocent and fake to catch."

"True love triumphs all."  Alpha continued mocking. "How about a true love ki-"  

"Alpha, Tails out!" I said as I transformed. "Man, I thought you'd never shut up." I chuckled before going out the window.

I was on my way to the museum as I ran to ladybug.

"Ladybug!" I exclaimed as we stopped.

"Lady Wolf."

"You heard?"

"Yeah."  

"Do you think...?"

"Chat Noir may get annoying, but he wouldn't steal." Ladybug said as I nodded as we went down to the museum to see the officers and the mayor.

"Mr.Mayor this is ridiculous." I said as we dropped next to the mayor.

"We're sure there's a simple explanation."

"Kitty's in the slammer, Ladybug, Lady Wolf." Officer Rogers said, approaching us.

"You don't actually think that'll keep hi-" I started to scoff before he cut me off.

"Now, now. Leave it to the experts, Lady Wolf. We've got it under control."  Ladybug and I exchanged looks, knowing that won't keep Chat in.

"Cat Noir is getting away!"  Officer Roger's walkie talkie said. Officer Rogers, Ladybug and I ran inside to see the metal bars they locked Chat in was broken down, he used his powers.

"Well, if he's so innocent, then why is he running away?" Officer Rogers questioned.

"Well if you were wrongly imprisoned, wouldn't you run?" I said, glaring at the officer as I crossed my arms. My baton began to ring as I gave Ladybug a look as we ran to exit the museum as I got out my baton to answer.

"Chat Noir! Where are you?" I asked.

"You know I'm innocent," Chat said. "Don't you, mon loup?"

"Now's not the time, Chat." Ladybug exclaimed. "This is really serious!"

" I'm gonna find the real culprit and save my tail. I'll get back to—" Chat hung up as the helicopter chased him. We got outside as we saw Chat running.

"Aren't you two gonna chase him?" Officer Rogers questioned as we both looked at each other before we began to sheepishly grin.

"We'll leave it to the experts." We both said with a smile as we both swung away.

*** {Third POV} ***

Chat Noir went in a subway as the police cars crashed into each other as he changed back and casually came out the other subway exit as Adrian whistling before he went to hide behind a pole as he pulled his jacket to show Plagg eating his cheese.

"If you want my opinion, I'd say the thief was akumatized." Plagg said, eating.

"That much I had figured." Adrian said as he held up the lolistick he found in the museum. "See that lollipop stick? The sculptor. How did I not see that jealousy coming a mile away?"

"Yours or his?"

"ha ha, real funny. You know I like Y/n."

"That's what they all say." Adrian rolled his eyes as he pushed Plagg back in the pocket.

***

"Gotcha, Copycat." Chat said as he watched from a window, on top of Théo's studio. He went in as he hid behind a wall, looking around before he called Lady Wolf who quickly answered.

"Chat Noir!" Lady Wolf exclaimed as Ladybug stood with her on top of a building as they were looking for him. "Where are you?"

"I found his Den." Chat said.

"Who's?" The two females said.

"My copycat." The two exchanged confused looks.

"We're not getting you."

" If you'd been there this morning the entire time, you'd know what I was talking about."

"Well? Tell us where you are."

"No, this is between me and him. I got myself into this mess, so I'm gonna get myself out." Chat hung up and put his baton away as he picked up a letter from his snooping.

"Cat's in the bag?" Chat Noir repeated confused as he looked at the box before it bursted as metals came out and chained his wrists. "Cataclysm!" Before he could touch the metal chains, Copycat appeared and put his hand on a box, wasting his one shot.

"I don't get what Lady Wolf sees in you." Copycat said. "A fool who so easily falls into my trap." Chat Noir reached his hand towards his back to get his staff, but didn't feel it there. "Looking for this?" Copycat held Chat's baton.  "Which one should I pick up? My one or my one?" Chat's baton began to ring as Copycat answered to see Lady Wolf.

"Lady Wolf, Ladybug, hurry up. I've caught the impostor at Théo Barbot's workshop." Copycat said as Chat Noir struggled in the chains.

"We'll be there in thirty seconds." Lady Wolf  said as they ran quicker.

"Don't come here, Ladybug! Lady Wolf! It's a trap!" Chat Noir yelled in vain as Copycat ended the call.

"Too late, Cat. Ladybug and Lady Wolf's their way, which was my plan all along." Copycat grinned.

"They won't be duped."  Chat grinned. "They know me too well."

"I know you too well." Copycat said as he looked at his photo. "And for now on, Lady Wolf will only love me, Not you!"

"Love me?" Chat repeated confused before regaining his grin. "Right! She loves me! That's why she'll be able to reveal your true identity!" Copycat frowned as he put the photo back in his pocket before knocking Chat to the ground, taking his hand to take the ring off before the two heroines came in.

"Chat!" Lady Wolf exclaimed running up to the two as Copycat looked at her, lovesick. "Wow, he looks exactly like you."

"That's because I am me!" Chat said.

"Where's his akuma?" Ladybug asked.

"Inside his ring, of course." Copy cat said, pointing at it. "Go ahead, grab it." Copycat gestured for her to take the ring from Chat's hand. Lady Wolf kneeled down on her knee, holding Chat's hand as she reached for the ring before seeing a paw come off and stopping. "He even has the same powers as you." She said to Copycat, suspiciously.

"If you don't believe I'm the real Cat Noir, ask him about our love for each other." Chat said with a grin as Lady Wolf flushed in red.

"L-Love?"

"Have I ever lied to you, Mon loup aimant." Lady Wolf blushed looking into Chat's eyes as she regained her color, putting on a smirk as she let go of his wrist, leaning in to Copycat.

"You didn't tell him, right?" She asked as Copycat began to get flustered.

"What?" Copycat stuttered out.

"You know," Lady Wolf said, touching his cheek. "Our little secret."

"A-uh, no. Of course not!" Copycat grinned.

"We don't have a little secret." Lady Wolf whispered.

"What?"

"Copycat!" Lady Wolf got up pointing a accusing finger at Copycat.

"I love you, Lady Wolf!" Copycat yelled, angrily. "I'm way better than this mangy alley cat!" He grabbed Chat.

"Sorry but liars are losers." Ladybug grinned.

"And Chat may come up with the most randomest jokes in the universe at the worst times, but he wouldn't lie or pretend to be something he isn't." Lady Wolf said.

"Thanks for the compliment." Chat grinned. "I think?" Chat pushed Copycat off of him and kicked him to the wall as he stood.

"If I can't have you, then nobody will!" Copycat yelled. "Cataclysm!"

"Let's wrap this up!" Ladybug said. "Lucky Charm!" A spoon appeared and dropped on Ladybug's hand. "A spoon?" Copycat began to charge towards Chat Noir as Lady Wolf glanced at the chains holding him and grinned, acting quickly as she grabbed the chains, standing in front of Copycat, making him touch the chains, freeing Chat Noir as he kicked him to the wall.

"Nice going, mi'lady."

"Where's his akuma?" Ladybug asked.

"The photo in his pocket." Chat said. "Let's make it snappy."

"Ha ha ha! You're going to change back before me." Copycat laughed as the two cats began fighting before Ladybug joined and fought him before leaping  on top of a pole as Chat resumed fighting.

"He's pretty good." Ladybug admitted.

"Even I got to admit that." Lady Wolf said, as she dodged another attack.

"Don't need to rub it in." Chat frowned.

"I told you I was better than him." Copycat grinned holding both his and Chat's baton before Lady Wolf kicked his out of his grips as Ladybug used her yoyo to hand it to Chat who catched it.

"But we're better than the both of you!" The two girls exclaimed as they had a wide grin. Ladybug dropped and grabbed Chat's arm right before he could punch.

"Hey! It's me!" Chat exclaimed.

"He's lying! I'm the real one!" Copycat exclaimed as the two girls stood frustrated.

"Now you're both annoying me to pieces!" Ladybug exclaimed.

"Show me your rings." Lady Wolf said. "How many pads do you have left?" Chat gladly showed his ring to see one pad left blinking as Copycat was reluctant to show his rings as they soon saw was three pads left. Ladybug released her hold on Chat.  "Chat Noir, Scratch Attack!"

"Gladly." Chat grinned, bringing his claws out. "I love a good cat fight." He meowed as he began fighting Copycat as Ladybug used her lucky vision  and it shows her Cat Noir's staff, a wooden rod, her yo-yo and the spoon. Ladybug uses these to make a fishing rod while Cat Noir used his feet to prevent Copycat from attacking and Cat Noir winks as he unzips the pocket that has the photo.

"Time to go akuma fishing!" Ladybug grinned as she uses the fishing rod to lift Copycat into the ceiling and Lady Wolf jumps, tying the string to make sure he doesn't do anything as she grabbed the photo, ripping it as she came down. "No more evil doing for you, little akuma." Ladybug opened her yoyo. "Time to de-evilize! Gotcha!" She purified the akuma as she released it. "Bye bye, little butterfly. Miraculous Ladybug!" Everything turned back to normal as Chat caught Théo, letting him down slowly.

"Nice catch." Lady Wolf grinned as the two girls came up to Chat Noir.

"So glad you guys can tell the real cat from the fake one." Chat smiled.

"Once I figured out which cat was the one I truly lo- knew." Lady Wolf covered.  "It's a no brainer." Chat's ring began to ring as did Ladybug's earing.

"Better help the fella out." Chat said to Lady Wolf. "His crush just got crushed."

"I'll be going now too." Ladybug said, as they both left the two as Théo sat up, rubbing his head.

"What am I doing here?" Théo asked as Lady Wolf kneeled down to meet him. "Lady Wolf?"

"I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to really speak to you this morning." Lady Wolf said, holding his photo out for him as Théo stumbled to get his pen from his pocket, handing it to Lady Wolf.

"Can you autograph it for me?" Théo asked as Lady Wolf smiled, her Y/n side showing.

"Sure!" She took the pen and signed the photo. "You've got some real artistry here. You've really captured my essence."  She chuckled, giving the pen and photo back to him.

"Thank you, Lady Wolf." Théo smiled. "And don't worry. I know about you and Cat Noir. It's okay." Lady Wolf blushed confusedly.

"Huh?"

*** {Y/n's POV} ***

I helped look for Adrian's phone as I soon gave up and waited for him outside the locker room.

"Did you find it?"  I asked as he came out with a down face and shook his head.

"No," Adrian sighed. "Let's go home."

***

"Maybe you dropped it somewhere." Nino said as Adrian told him about his missing phone as they, including Y/n and Maya walked out in the classroom.

"That, or maybe you missed a place." Maya offered as they stopped in front of Adrian's seat as Adrian and Nino sat down as Maya and Y/n sat in the seats next to them, neither of them noticing Marinette slip his phone back in his bag as it dropped. Adrian looked down, shocked to see his phone.

"What the-" Adrian said. "I looked in there at least a thousand times." Y/n looked at the bag suspiciously.

"So did I, I was sure it wasn't in the bag."

"You need some time off,  both of you." Nino said, as Maya nodded.

"Hey, I know, let's go to the movies tonight!" Maya suggested.

"Hey, dudes, mind if a few friends tag along?" Alya asked from behind them.

"Sure thing!" Nino exclaimed as Adrian and Y/n smiled at the two girls.

#Copycat #chat noir x reader #Mircaculous Ladybug #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Lady Wolf #adrian agreste x reader

[satan-stop-laying-on-my-laptop]

𖤍『𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟||𝕊𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕠𝕟』𖤍

TRIGGER WARNING FOR VOMIT!

Pairing: Simeon X M!Reader

___________________________________________________________________

  You nervously watched the clock at the front of the classroom that was full of demons, you and most importantly, Simeon, your crush ever since you’ve arrived in Devildom for the exchange program. 

  Thing is, you loved the angel so very much, but you knew he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings. After all, he was an angel of The Lord, The Lord your parents told you that he would throw you away from the pearly white gates into hell for liking guys. Now, here you are, sitting in Devildom with your angelic crush, that probably would hate you if word of your feelings ever got out.

  You always tried to deny your feelings towards the beautiful angel at first, avoiding eye contact and convincing yourself it was just the anxiety of meeting a new friend. Then those feelings got stronger and you could no longer deny it: You, (F/N) (L/N) are in love with Simeon, one of The Lord’s angels. You couldn’t resist loving him. He was perfect. Dark hair, clear dark skin that was nothing less than perfection, a body that looked like a master sculptor created him, his soothing voice that never failed to make you weak in the knees and his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes that captivated you and stared straight into your soul.

  You didn’t even realize the bell rang until your incubus friend, (Name), tapped your shoulder. Snapping out of your little trance, you look up at your demon friend, who was looking at you with a concerned glint in his mischievous eyes.

  “Hey (Y/N), you okay? You’ve been spacing out lately…” He asked, worried. You nodded with a sheepish smile on your face.

  “Yeah, I just got a lot on my mind…” You replied as you began to shove your books in your book bag. Your friend nodded before asking something that would cause you trouble later.

  “Do you wanna talk about it? We could head to the music room if you want. It’s usually empty.”

  It was a compelling offer. You could tell your closest friend here about what’s been going on in your conflicted brain, full of toxic thoughts, and feel some of the weight of your burden lift off your shoulders.

  “Yeah, Let’s go.” You said after a bit of thought. Smiling, you stood up from your seat, pushing your chair before beginning to follow your friend to the music, which was close to your next class so you didn’t mind a quick vent session here. Sitting on the bench in front of the piano, your friend looks at you, as if to say ‘The stage is yours’. Taking a deep breath, you began to pour out your heart.

  “Well, you see...I really like Simeon, like- not even like, it’s more like love. I’ve tried to ignore these feelings but I- I can’t! They won’t go away and I want to act on them, but he’s an angel of the LORD! A man my parents told me would banish me to the pits of HELL for even liking men in the romantic sense! I- I just don’t know...I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with him because of my feelings. I don’t want him to see me as a disgusting pervert who likes men…” You vented these feelings to your friend, stopping once the one minute bell rang, signalling for everyone to hurry to class. Standing up, (M/N) smiled and patted your head.

  “I gotta go, but thanks for telling me! Let’s talk more about this later.” The way he acted as he left the room left you confused and worried. What’s with this hurried attitude of his? It’s weird.

  Little did you know, you’d find out during lunch.

  You sigh as you exited the music room and briskly walked to your Devildom History class, which you shared with Solomon and again, Simeon. You loved yet hated that class. You loved the subject and the fact you had two friends that sat next to you, but the teacher’s voice made you sleepy and Solomon is a chaotic bastard, but you had to resist the urge to backhand the bastard sorcerer because Simeon was there and you didn’t him to think you were aggressive.

  Entering your class as the bell rang, you took your seat next to Simeon and across from Solomon, Solomon let out a hum as he watched you sit down in your seat. It wasn’t often you came in late. It’s happened a few times but that’s because you were either using the restroom or had to give papers to a teacher during passing period, but usually you would text him or Simeon if you were gonna be a little later than usual.

  “(Y/N), Where were you?” Solomon asked, looking at you curiously. You shifted in your seat nervously, fumbling over your words as you attempted to make up an excuse as to why you were late. As much as you hated lying, you couldn’t let them know about the little vent session you had because you knew he would ask your friend later about what went on.

  “O-Oh, I just got caught up talking to someone who missed a day and needed the notes.” You lied through your teeth with a smile, praying that your lie was convincing enough for him to noy question you further. Giving you a suspicious glance, he somehow knew you didn’t want to talk about what actually went down.

  “Oh okay, I was about to ask Simeon here if you even showed up to class.” He hummed as he looked over at Simeon, who nodded with a smile.

  “Yes, he was here last period. However, (Y/N), you seemed really out of it. Are you okay?” He asked as he looked at you, a slight glimmer of concern sparkled in his cerulean eyes. Your face heated up a little as you looked to your desk and nodded, avoiding eye contact with the angel you loved oh so dearly.

  “Yeah, just tired, I guess…” You answered as you reached into your bag, grabbing your notebook and pencil case while the teacher entered the room and headed to the front, which was your cue to open your notebook to begin taking notes once the teacher began to teach.

  Devildom History flew by quickly since the notes were short and sweet and you guys had gotten a simple worksheet to do with our table, so it was a breeze for you three. However, next was lunch, which would bring you the most despair. 

  Walking into the cafeteria, you immediately noticed that other demons were looking at you weirdly and whispering among themselves which made you nervous. What were they talking about? Usually, you wouldn't worry about it, but something in your gut told you it wasn't something nice.

  You tried to deny that disgusting feeling in your gut that made you wanna vomit out whatever was in your stomach. You were doing so well until halfway to the lunchroom, you ended up hearing what the other students were talking about.

  "Didn't you hear? (Y/n) has a crush on Simeon." Hearing those words felt so wrong. There was no way they could've known that. You only told one person-...oh.

  You stopped in your tracks, Simeon and Solomon turned to face you, since they noticed you fell behind. Simeon frowned as he walked over to you, clearing not hearing the whispers from the others.

  "(Y/N), are you-" You didn't even stay to let him finish the sentence and you bolted to the nearest boy's restroom, throwing yourself into the first open stall you saw and locking it. Tears were falling down and you felt so damn sick. You couldn't believe it, that bastard betrayed your trust and told EVERYONE about something you weren't ready to tell anyone, this took you months to tell him and now within one class period, the entire school fucking knew about your dirty secret.

  Soon enough, you collapsed on the dirty bathroom floor and began to throw up in the toilet, your body couldn't handle the stress anymore and you just puked out stomach acid since you truthfully didn't eat much this morning. Once the vomiting stopped, you leaned against the stall door, panting heavily as tears streamed down your face in great amounts. 

  You thought you would have more time to yourself so you could cry but turns out no one in Devildom, The Celestial Realm or the Human world planned for that to fucking happen since you faintly heard the bathroom door open and someone step inside. Quickly, you cover your mouth, hoping you could muffle your sobs enough so the person who just entered the bathroom could do what they needed to do and leave without questioning why you were crying in a bathroom stall. Again, you weren't that lucky.

  "(Y/N)? Are you in here?" You tensed up heavily when you heard his voice. You were scared to death. No, it wasn't Diavolo or Lucifer. It was Simeon. Out of everyone, it had to be the guy who probably hated you now. You decided to keep your pride and stay quiet, praying that he would leave.

  "(Y/N), I...I heard what they were saying," Are you fucking sERIOUS- "and, uhm...I want you to know that I'm not mad and this isn't going to tear us apart, if anything, if what they said is true...I like you too. More than friends." 

  What he just admitted made you throw your head back in surprise, causing you to hit your head on the fucking stall door, which made you and Simeon startled.

  Simeon...loves you back? You were so sure he would've hated you for loving him yet… he feels the same way.

  "(Y/N)?!" In a heartbeat, he was outside that stall door, knocking on it. You gently sighed and shakingly stood up, holding onto the metal bar on the side for stability so you didn't fall.

  "...did...you mean what you said?" You asked meekly through the door. Before you come out of the bathroom stall you're hiding in, you need to make sure so you don't make a fool of yourself again.

  "Of course! I wouldn't lie to you, (Y/N)..." You could hear his voice and almost knew he was telling the truth. Taking a deep breath, you gently unlocked the door and opened it, revealing your post-breakdown state to the angel you loved.

  "(Y/n)! Are you okay?" Simeon's hands came to gently rest on your shoulders, his cerulean eyes scanning your frame to make sure you were okay. Gently nodding, you wipe the stray tears from your face as you steady your breathing.

  "Yeah...I just was stressed that I got outed by someone I trusted." You mumbled. Simeon nodded understandingly as he pulled you to his chest, holding you close to him as he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead.

  "I'm glad you love me too, I wish I could've found out through you, though."

  "Believe me, me too."

  We shared a brief laugh at my comment before Simeon pulled back and gently grabbed your hand, smiling sweetly at you.

  "Come on, let's go get some lunch. I'm sure you're hungry, my little lamb." You smiled at the nickname and nodded.

  "Alright, let's go."

____________________

Reposted from my wattpad oneshot book "devildom tales || obey me x reader"

My wattpad:strawberryenby

#obey me fluff #obey me x reader #shall we date #obey me angst #obey me simeon #obey me #obey me shall we date

[mysterioh]

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 8

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

Synopsis: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge in art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist

The Language of the Arts

This is awkward. 

“So,” you spoke up, eyes strictly focused on the painting in front of you, hating the silence standing in between. “Nice weather we’re having." 

"Yeah,” Steve said, his voice was stiff with a hint of nervousness. “Really cold." 

"You like winter?" 

"No, not really.”

“I do,” you said, folding your hands behind your back and tiptoeing up and down. “It’s a great time to do cozy things, y'know? Like watching movies and drinking hot cocoa." 

"I guess it’s nice if you think of it that way,” he shrugged with a small smile. “I usually just think of how cold and dark it is." 

"I like that too, to be honest,” you replied. “I don’t know why, but I just do." 

"All the more reason to do cozy things I suppose?” he chuckled in your direction. 

You turn to him and smile. “Yeah, I guess so." 

His gaze lingers for a while before he snaps his head back towards the painting like he forgot he wasn’t supposed to be staring. Your smile falters a bit and it’s kind of annoying how different he’s acting. You liked the obnoxious version of him more.  

"So, uh,” he clears his throat, “how ya been?" 

"Good,” you nodded. “You?" 

He shrugged. Miserable "I’m fine,” he replied. “How’s your boyfriend?” He asked, straining to sound nice. 

“Oh, he’s fine,” you said. 

It’s awkward again and neither of you knows what to do. He just had to be there when you had to be there. In a city of over two million, the odds of meeting the same stranger more than once were less than likely and yet you’ve met this oaf far more times than you needed to. The universe was scheming something.

“Another art project?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “I wouldn’t be here if  it wasn’t." 

"Your hatred for art is something I’ll never understand,” he shook his head. 

“People like different things. I don’t like art, deal with it,” you jabbed. 

Steve puts his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying. It’s just, I don’t know – when I see something like this there’s this bubbly feeling I get on the inside. And it just doesn’t make sense to me that someone can’t see it the way I do." 

"I know how you feel,” you said. “But with science." 

Steve’s shoulders drop. "But science is boring." 

"It is not!” You retorted then sighed. “I guess someone as simple-minded as you wouldn’t get it,” you shake your head. 

“Or maybe someone as close-minded as you wouldn’t understand where I’m coming from,” he snapped back playfully. 

“I am not close-minded!" 

"Yes, you are,” Steve said. “You don’t actually try to connect with the art. You’re just trying to get an A. Maybe if you open your mind a bit and really let the art speak to you, you’ll appreciate it more and even get a better grade." 

"Are you trying to tell me I’m stupid?" 

"Not in the least,” he said with a chuckle coloring his words. “You’re probably really smart, smarter than me. All I’m trying to say is that maybe you should try stepping out of your comfort zone? Try something you don’t like or want to do. You never know you might actually like it." 

He gives you a charmingly crooked smile as he urges you to try it. You pry away from his gaze with a huff. He hit the mark when he said you needed to get out of your comfort zone, but he didn’t need to call you out on it. 

"Fine,” you replied with a groan, returning to the painting. He smiled gently before speaking.  

“Pygmalion and Galatea by Jean Leon Gerome,” he said. “I personally find this painting filled with passion for obvious reasons. The way he kisses her as she transforms into a human. His dreams come true at that moment. He’s never felt more alive in his life." 

"Personally, I think he’s a jerk. I know the story of Pygmalion and Galatea. I used to be really into mythology a while back,” you told him. “Pygmalion was a self-imposed lonely sculptor. He didn’t like mortal women because he thought they were flawed so he made a statue of what a perfect woman should be like. Aphrodite noticed how much he loved the statue so she brought her to life." 

Steve chuckled. "Then what do you think the painting’s about?" 

"Male superiority.” You stated, looking into the picture. “Look at how pure and delicate Galatea looks, isn’t that every man’s dream girl?" 

"I see where you’re coming from,” Steve chimed in. “Notice the sculptures in the back. One is of a woman with her child which could represent the role of a mother that’s pressed upon them. The other is of a woman looking into a mirror and I think that symbolizes vanity. How women only really need to worry about their appearance and how it should please men. It’s how society wants us to be or at least in a man’s eye.”

“Then there’s Pygmalion, muscular and thriving in his own creativity and imagination. The ideal for any man at the time,” you put your hands on your hips. You know the more we keep talking about this, the more I’m starting to hate it.“ 

"Nothing wrong with that,” Steve shrugged. “I thought that was rather impressive - coming from you that is." 

You growl under your breath and push him off balance. He chuckles, only making you cross your arms annoyed. 

"I actually see it differently,” Steve said. 

You raise a brow and turn to him. “How so?" 

"It’s like the roles have been switched. Pygmalion’s reaching up to Galatea since she’s up on a pedestal. While she has to crouch down for his affection. Although we can’t ignore the fact that she is his creation, we know she possesses all of his love because he’s invested every part of him into her. His heart, soul, and mind, it all belongs to her. She possesses his idolization and can make him do whatever she wants,” he said. 

You bring a hand to your cheek. “That makes sense. I like that interpretation more." 

"It makes you feel pity for Pygmalion almost. He’s blind and naive in his devotion to her. If that was the painter’s intent, I think he did a good job by adding the theatrical masks in the corner.” You pointed. “Cause it isn’t reality. The emotions when you’re on stage are only skin deep.  Even if Galatea may show love and affection towards Pygmalion, it’s not real and it never will be. Whatever emotions she holds will always be artificial. But the way he kisses and holds her shows that he believes Galatea’s love is sincere, and it makes you pity the guy. Everyone has a weakness and his is the desire to love." 

"I feel exposed,” Steve mumbled. 

“What?" 

"Nothing,” he said. “I’m honestly amazed by your analysis." 

You snorted. "I’m smarter than you, remember?” You teased and he rolled his eyes. “And thanks to you I don’t have to bang my head against the wall for the next three hours. Thanks, I guess you were right. I ended up liking it,” you said with a sheepish smile. 

“I’m glad I could help." 

Your eyes lock with his and you really look at them. Like it’s the first time you’ve seen him. You noticed the way his eyebrows raised a centimeter or two, lined between confusion and wonderment, his eyes twinkled in amusement as if he knew something you didn’t. They were like the ocean, so full of life yet so uncertain. The blue-green hue residing within pulling you deeper into the currents. 

Staring isn’t exactly the word Steve would use. Your eyes rest, not unblinking but slowed; the effect is soft and inviting instead of harsh. Perhaps it’s your lips that give away the intention, not quite smiling but tilting as if they do. 

As if you’re telling him to stay a little longer. It’s unspoken, but sometimes words aren’t needed. And he’d stay if you wanted him to, let you pull him deeper into the vast expanse of your eyes, glazed like honey and warmer than a summer breeze. 

He snapped out of his thoughts. There he goes again. Your lips part to say something, but Steve says something first. 

"I should go,” he said. 

“Oh,” you said in disappointment. “Thanks for helping,” you give him a smile. “See ya around then?" 

"Yeah, just be careful next time?" 

"I’ll make sure to,” you chuckled. “Have a nice day.”

He turned on his heel and waved goodbye. You smiled at him and waved back. The minute he turns away from you completely, the smiles on both of your faces fall instantly and it’s like you’ve lost something you never had.  

“Sweetheart, I ain’t a bad guy. I’ll be nothing but good to you." 

His smooth voice whistled in your ears. Another groan escaped your lips and you slammed your head against the cool metal surface of the kitchen table. 

Usually, the kitchen at Urban Remedy was a chaotic mess. Complete with shouting chefs and frolicking waitresses, sizzling pans and the clatter of dishes. But as the day began to wind down, so did business allowing its workers to catch a break. 

"I know this isn’t the best place to work, but-” your head shot up at the sound of your boss’ sassy voice. 

“Oh no,” you replied sheepishly. “I was just-" 

"I’m just joking,” May chuckled. She leaned over the table. “What’s wrong sister? Someone didn’t tip you well enough?" 

"No, it’s not that,” you chuckled while sitting straight up. “Just life I guess." 

"Lemme guess it’s a guy,” she laid it on the table. Your cheeks heated. 

“Dost mine ears deceive me?” Wanda popped her head in through the door. “Our residential man-hater has a guy problem?" 

"Where did you come from?" 

"I have super hearing,” the girl said, taking a seat next to you. She shakes your arm in excitement. “Now spill." 

"First off, it’s not a guy,” you lied. “I’m just in a bind is all." 

"Sweetheart,” May said, “you’re not fooling anyone." 

"It’s not!” You insisted. 

They replied with doubtful looks and a roll of the eyes. 

“It’s that cute guy that comes to visit sometimes, right?” Wanda asked. “The one with the old man name?" 

You snorted. "No, Quentin is Quentin. He’s not a guy." 

"So there is a guy, but he’s not your friend,” May conjectured. 

You exhaled deeply, feeling annoyed by them and yourself. 

“Okay, there’s a guy,” you grumbled. 

Wanda bounced in her chair while clapping her hands. “I knew it! Is he cute?" 

"I don’t know!” you retorted. Your eyes flit towards May and she’s smiling, pulling all the juicy details out of you. “Okay, maybe a little,” you mumbled and they giggled like children “But I don’t like him or anything!" 

"He wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t,” May smirked, resting her chin in her hand. 

“It’s not like that,” you look away with a sigh. “You ever just want to stay away from something but end up getting closer? Like you want nothing to do with them but they pull you in regardless?" 

"Me with cats,” Wanda said. You turn to her puzzled. “What? I’m allergic to cats, but they’re so cute." 

"Seems like you’re in quite the predicament,” May chuckled. 

“You know a way out?" 

"Nope,” she deadpanned, “but you better get yourself out there cause I just heard the door open.” She pointed behind her with a chuckle. 

You stand with a groan and make your way to the front. 

“Hey,” Wanda called you back, “I think you should just follow your heart.” You rolled your eyes. If that isn’t the stupidest thing -“I know what you’re thinking but try it out? I mean it might be uncomfy at first but it could be worth it?" 

You shoot her a smile and a nod. "I’ll try,” you said pushing past the door and into the hall, to find a boy standing by the counter with his back to you. 

“Welcome in, how can I help you?” you asked as you approached him. 

The boy turned and you could’ve sworn you’ve seen him before. And by the way he looks at you, mouth agape and eyes wide, you probably did. 

It’s like Peter’s memory has been swiped clean and he doesn’t even know what language is anymore as he stands in front of you.

“Uhm?” You asked, totally not judging him.  

“Oh Peter,” May said from behind you. “You’re here!" 

TAG LIST: @ashwarren32​ @rootcrop​ @siriusement​ @savedbystark​ @great-goddess-of-sin​ @boxofteenageideas​ @little-dark-empress​ @imsonick​ @scuzmunkie​ @achishisha​ @chuckennuggets1213​ @captainchrisstan​

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #mobster!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve x reader #mafia au #mafia steve rogers x reader

[yamisnuffles]

Your Sweet Lips On Mine

The angels, Crowley and Aziraphale, share their first kiss under the Roman stars. Follow up to the comic version. Very fluffy. A little angsty. Surprisingly horny.

Read on Ao3

- - - - -

Crowley still remembered how to shape stars between his hands. Sometimes he dreamed of doing it again, here on Earth, form one in his palms and let it grow. If they wouldn’t let him back up to the stars, he would bring the stars down where they could touch him, burn him, turn him to star stuff himself. Because as much as he was a creator, he was a destroyer. The stars had been made to die. All of Her creation had but especially here on this little blue planet where her youngest children lived and died in flashes of time. He’d started that, too, the dying. He’d already ensured the humans would come and go before they really had a chance to live. Perhaps it would be kinder to speed it all up a little more, end it before Her planned ending for them was due. It wouldn’t be great, it wouldn’t be ineffable, it would just be an end and sometimes he thought that would be better.

But then he would wake up, shake himself from that reverie, and he would remember that as long as there was life, there was a chance. He might have been as much a destroyer as a creator but not everyone was that way. He’d stood astride the Babylonians and watched with joy as they learned to map the heavens. He’d found joy and camaraderie in Socrates and his endless questions. He’d seen painters and sculptors and artisans spring up in civilizations across the globe and create and create and create with what limited tools they had. What limited life. They deserved every second of what they had.

And then there was Aziraphale. Crowley had known for millennia now that Aziraphale was a light for him when things got too dark. He’d deprived himself of that for the past eight years because he hadn’t felt worthy of that comfort. It wasn’t until now that he finally realized why those last years had felt so bitterly cold. So empty.

Love. Aziraphale loved him. He’d felt it on him like a warm, familiar blanket for so long that when he’d been without it, he’d been more lost than he had as a snake, deprived of limbs. How had he never so much as imagined that such love was meant for him?

Crowley was suddenly aware of every bit of his corporation. He was smiling so wide his face hurt. His skin was tingling, aching to touch, to hold. His heart was pounding. He wasn’t sure how he could even talk with the way that it seemed to have jumped into his throat but he had to know that this was really okay.

He reached out a hand to cup the soft curve of Aziraphale’s jaw. The touch grounded him, assured him this was real. That this was really happening. “Can I?” he asked over that star bright, heady feeling.

“ Please .”

Aziraphale’s reply came deep and husky, nearly a moan. It sent another shiver dancing across Crowley’s skin and propelled him forward. He had just enough time to wonder if anticipation was enough to kill him before his lips were on Aziraphale’s.

How could it feel so blessedly wonderful to press one set of lips to another? Sometimes Crowley wasn’t sure if he remembered what it was like to be in Heaven but he was nearly positive it had never been anywhere near this wonderful. Aziraphale’s lips were warm, wet, and inviting. And soft. So soft. Crowley might have lost himself in them if he hadn’t been so acutely aware of everything else that was happening.

It wasn’t his own body that he was aware of then as much as he was every bit of Aziraphale’s. Strong arms holding their bodies flush together and each point of contact in between. Through the fabric of the Principality’s toga, there was the soft swell of a stomach and plush thighs and the telltale iron of muscle under it all. Firm palms pressed into Crowley’s back, one moving down and the other up. When fingers found the base of one of his wings, Crowley broke the kiss with a sharp intake of breath.

“Oh,” they both said at once.

“Your-”

“Yeah, and your-”

They laughed together, still tangled in each other’s arms. They’d apparently each manifested their wings at some point and halos glowed delicately above their heads. Crowley chuckled and buried his burning face in Aziraphale’s neck.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled into skin that was satin soft, honey sweet, and infinitely distracting.

“Whatever for? You’re not the only one.” A beat and then, “Do you think that will happen every time.”

Crowley snorted and drew back just enough to look Aziraphale in the eyes. “I certainly hope not. Would make things a little difficult when the humans are about.”

“Yes, yes, I suppose it would.”

“Guess the only thing we can do is keep testing.”

With the light from the halos, Crowley was able to see the very charming shade of pink that colored Aziraphale’s cheeks at that. “Further… experimentation would seem prudent. Although-”

“Yes?”

“Well, that would require putting our wings away and I rather enjoy seeing yours.”

“Really? I’ve been neglecting them. Though, they’re a fair sight better than yours.”

Crowley carefully straightened a couple coverts near the base of Aziraphale’s wings. When the other angel shivered, Crowley raised an eyebrow. The blush in Azriaphale’s cheeks deepened and spread back to his neck.

“Like that, do you?” Crowley asked with a lopsided smile.

“As you said, neglect. They haven’t been touched in some time. Perhaps you could help groom them later.”

“Later?”

Aziraphale hummed in affirmation. “I believe we have something else to get back to.”

He closed the distance between their lips again and Crowley was left wondering how he’d forgotten that this was all he wanted to do for the rest of eternity. Their first kiss had been soft, if clumsy. There was still clumsiness- lots of bumped noses and accidental knocking of teeth- but he couldn’t bring himself to care. There was plenty of time to learn and until then, he got to feel Aziraphale’s lips beneath his own and the humid mixture of their breath. His tongue was allowed entry into Aziraphale’s mouth. He wasn’t sure which of them followed with a moan, given the way their voices blended into one between them. Probably both. Didn’t really matter.

Crowley hadn’t returned to his serpentine form since he’d been released from it but he could still feel it there at times, just below the surface. He was fairly certain it had been written into the fabric of who he was as a reminder or perhaps a warning. He usually only considered this fact in darker moments. The moment was far from dark but he remembered it now, in a flash of inspiration. He trailed long, slow kisses from Aziraphale’s mouth, along his jaw, and down to his throat. Once there he let his tongue split, just at the end, so that he could lick along the edges of a fluttering pulse.

Aziraphale sucked in a sharp breath. “ Crowley .”

Crowley smiled against Aziraphale’s now slick skin and continued his ministrations until he felt Aziraphale going a tad wobbly in his arms. With every bit of restraint in him, he stopped and pulled back. It took a few moments for him to find his voice again with the taste of Aziraphale in his mouth. When he did, he said, “I forgot to tell you. It’s important and I meant to, I mean, I know you can feel it but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t say it. What I mean is…”

Crowley bit his lip and felt the sting of too long canines. He could just leave it as is. Aziraphale knew. Crowley knew he knew and it wasn’t like saying it aloud would change that. The thing was, he’d kept those words locked away for so long that he didn’t know what would happen if he finally let them out. Words had a power to them. As someone who’d seen creation spoken into existence, this was a truth that existed at his very core. An aching, terrified part of his heart still worried that disaster would follow if he put to words what he felt.

Aziraphale furrowed his brow. “What is it? You don’t look well, my dear.”

“M’fine. Better than, really. The best I’ve ever been.” Crowley blew a breath out between sharpened teeth. He’d need to watch himself if he didn’t want to go full snake, apparently, but that was a problem for another time. Right now, he owed Aziraphale three simple words. “I know that you already know and that’s great but I should still tell you- you deserve to hear-” Another breath. “I love you. Have done for a really long time now.”

The skin around Aziraphale’s eyes crinkled and the blue of them shimmered. “I love you, too. I have for, oh, I’m not even sure how long. I scarcely remember when I didn’t.”

Crowley tried to reply and was mortified when he only managed a strangled jumble of sounds. His throat was so tight. He wondered if maybe he’d had too much wine and passed out. This could have been a deliriously wonderful dream. He’d certainly had similar a few times throughout history. He needed to touch and remind himself that it was all real.

He swallowed hard to try to loosen the words caught in a lump in his throat. He wrapped a hand around the back of Aziraphale’s neck where the skin was covered in down soft hair. “Can I? Again?”

Aziraphale treated him with a fond smile. “You know, you don’t have to ask every time.”

“Yeah, I know. Just like hearing you say yes.”

Aziraphale’s smile widened and he let the tips of their noses brush. “Then yes. As many times as I can say it, yes .”

#good omens #fic #good omens au #go au: tmgt #angel!crowley #crowley #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #ineffable husbands #my writing

[occasionaltouhou]

another reminder that i’m extremely glad i got into touhou in time to see animal realm politics

She thought she was done for when she’d been spotted by her, but she’d once more failed to grasp the nature of her opponent.

Kicchou Yachie had come to the surface to “explain her situation” -- that is, lie between her teeth -- and to give her thanks to the Hakurei Shrine Maiden for her assistance in resolving the situation in the Animal Realm. And whilst she was there, she had decided to take the time to investigate the human village. It had been many, many centuries since she had seen living humans, after all.

Reimu had been skeptical when she had mentioned her intention to enter the village, and had suggested that she disguise herself. So, she had returned to Hell, and returned with her proud horns hidden under a hat and her tail hidden behind a long dress. She looked so unlike herself to begin with that she doubted even her followers would have recognised her.

And yet, when she entered the village, she was almost immediately spotted and identified by the god of idols herself, Haniyasushin Keiki. The god had smiled excitedly at seeing her, waved at her, and then gestured for her to follow. With the threat of being unmasked at the god’s disposal, Yacchie didn’t have much choice but to follow.

She thought of Keiki in different terms to the bosses of the others in the Animal Realm. Their standards were the same -- they attempted to control as many spirits as possible, through whatever means were possible. There weren’t “rules”, per se, but there was a similar line of thinking. The same could not be said for this god, whose values were entirely different; as she relied upon faith for her power, but could create her own minions, her goals relied upon maintaining the happiness of the human spirits that followed her. Or, so it seemed to Yacchie, at least.

Humans never understood the reasoning of a god. What chance did a beast spirit have?

Keiki led Yacchie into a small restaurant near the heart of Gensokyo, and sat down at a table, gesturing cheerfully for the beast spirit to join her.

But it was Yacchie, still trying to understand the situation, who spoke first.

“You haven’t got any guards with you today.”

“Oh, Mayumi? She’s exploring too. I love coming up here, there’s so much to see! People make such wonderful things, don’t you agree?”

One might think that was an innocent enough question, but that would be underestimating Keiki’s intelligence. She wasn’t a fool. Even if she was acting politely, she would have to recognise that Yacchie was a threat to the people around her, and be wondering what she was doing here.

“The humans are very creative, certainly. You’d fit right in here, with all the things they make.”

Keiki smiled. “I have an obligation to the humans of the Spirit Garden, and I won’t abandon them so easily. They’re relying on me, after all.”

“To keep them safe from people like me.”

Keiki’s smile didn’t waver. “To keep them safe, yes.” She glanced over at the counter. “I’m trying to remember… is this the one where they came to the table, or…”

“You’re been here before?” asked Yacchie, surprised. It had been less than two weeks since the human invasion of the Animal Realm.

“Oh, a few times,” replied Keiki. “At first, I was simply curious, but then I liked it up here so much… ah, I wanted to bring up the spirits from the Animal Realm, but I got told I couldn’t…” She sighed, and then glanced over at Yacchie. “I assume that was your reason for coming here, too? Simple curiosity.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, I’ve no interest in taking over the surface.”

“After the beating Miss Kurokuma received, I wouldn’t expect you to want to leave the Animal Realm, honestly.”

Yacchie scowled. The reminder of how easily their invasion of Hell had been deflected by the very people they’d brought to aid them was irritating, to say the least.

“The only reason we wanted to leave in the first place was due to your actions, don’t forget. You might claim to bring salvation to the humans, but that came at the expense of the rest of us. Your wonderful idols showed no mercy towards the beast spirits, after all. I wonder, after you took over the Animal Realm, what was your plan for our salvation?”

Keiki laughed softly. “You know your ability doesn’t work on me.”

“I know. Answer the question.”

Keiki’s smile didn’t waver, even now. “I would have done the same to you as you did to the humans. Kept you safe, and made sure you could never leave.”

“They call that a zoo up here.”

Keiki was silent for a moment. “You know, if I wanted to restart my invasion, I could. The humans won’t fall for your tricks a second time.”

“And is that what you’re going to do?”

Keiki glanced over at the counter again. “I think this is one of the ones where we have to order ourselves, actually. It’s been a little while…” She got up, and then glanced back down at Yacchie. “I’ll make a deal, just between us, alright?”

“A deal?” repeatedly Yacchie skeptically.

“A deal, yes,” confirmed Keiki. “I don’t want to fight. If you leave the Primate Garden alone, and don’t attempt to cause harm to the human spirits, I’ll leave the rest of the Animal Realm alone. In exchange… don’t tell anyone I’m a god, alright?”

Yacchie stared at her for a moment. The divine aura that radiated off of her was practically tangible. There was no way she was that oblivious, so maybe… maybe it was the other way around? If they committed any act of aggression, no matter how slight, she would have an excuse to dominate them all? Would they have to live on the edge of a sculptor’s knife for eternity?

Keiki’s friendly expression didn’t waver.

“I can’t agree to that,” said Yacchie, and Keiki blinked in surprise. “But if you buy me lunch, I won’t tell anyone you were here -- assuming you do the same for me.”

Keiki grinned. “It’s a deal, then. I knew we could cooperate, Miss Kicchou!”

The god wandered towards the counter, and Yacchie was silent. Was that what this was all about? Some attempt at cooperation? But she’d threatened her before she’d made that offer, so…

Well, perhaps she never would understand the mentality of a god. Perhaps she would have to tread carefully around her -- but that was nothing new. She’d clawed her way to the top of the Kiketsu Family through an ability to survive, if nothing else. This was just another threat, another enemy to compete with, another spirit to manipulate. A challenge, but if it wasn’t one she was capable of dealing with, then--

A bowl of still-steaming noodles was placed in front her, interrupting her train of thought.

“They’re really fast here,” remarked Keiki. “Sorry for making you wait so long because I forget we had to go up.”

--Well, at least she was getting a free meal out of it.

#touhou #yachie kicchou #keiki haniyasushin #occasional prompts #occasional fics #still haven't cleared wbawc... my perfectionism means that using continues makes my brain break so instead i jsut die #one day i'll meet keiki... one day...!

[believerindaydreams]

field trip

Tuesday night. 

The bus is crowded, smelling strongly of old men and damp; Tuco’s almost grateful, when Blondie grabs a window seat and pulls him down. Better than sitting next to anybody else...

It’s a special treat for twelve of the more trustworthy priests, to leave the monastery for the Stations of the Cross. Why he’s let Pablo talk him into coming along is beyond him- well, except that it’s been months since he was past this gate and craved a bit of variety. He pulls a hat out of the Duluth, one of the knitted ones his brother’s made for him, waves it in the air enthusiastically; gets a distracted wave back. 

Oh, well. He puts it on anyway and drags out the spare jacket for later. 

“You’ve been smoking,” Wallace says, glaring at him. “I thought you said you were giving that up for Lent.”

The easy, plausible explanation he’s been saving up freezes on his tongue, when he catches sight of Pablo’s expression- gentle reproachful Pablo, and damned if his brother can’t still fill him up with guilt with a single look. 

“Yeah...I guess you take this again,” Tuco says, kicking the Duluth across the aisle. “So. Just like every Lent, isn’t it...”

“Every year,” Pablo says, tucking the pack under his feet. “Every year I say to myself, maybe Benedict will do better this time. Maybe next year you will, who knows?” 

Wallace smiles, the tight-lipped expression of a man who knows he’s in the right. Tuco contemplates starting a fight then and there, to quarrel about the use of his name, or his pack, or a hundred other things; but it doesn’t seem worth the trouble it’d make for his brother (god knows, he wouldn’t want to nursemaid this expedition). He peels the orange instead, letting the oil sting his hands clean, eating the segments in hurried gulps. 

Blondie puts a hat over his eyes, and shifts away from him as if he’s unclean. 

**************

There is a hill; there are fourteen little shines on the hill; you start at the bottom and work your way to the top, stopping to pray at each one. Simple.

First station, the condemnation of Jesus, it’s not so bad. The rain’s let up, the priests seem enthusiastic about their prayers, maybe the Latin is long and droning but he’s been through worse. Blondie looks entranced. He holds his hands together and keeps his mouth shut, it’s fine. 

Third station, Jesus falling for the first time, his soul is itching with boredom. Pablo doesn’t look so peaceful as he usually does, reciting prayers; and Tuco guesses it’s the unusual responsibility of the day that’s doing it. If one of his flock decided this was a good time to wander off, there wouldn’t be much anybody could do about that-

well, unless the Father’s crazy younger brother maybe chased after him, downed him with a football tackle. Imagining that scene entertains him enough to keep him happy for a while. 

Station number six would almost be amusing- Veronica wiping Christ’s face, and the sculptor has put a lot of thought into making the scene as sexy as possible- but by now it’s raining again and everything’s muddy, the priests are starting to flag a little bit, and his knees hurt. Too much kneeling, that’s what it is; for once he’s glad not to be carrying his pack. Even Pablo’s looking tired, though Blondie’s still going strong. 

Station nine is Jesus falling down for the third time. It’s probably blasphemous, for him to wonder whether Jesus was so clumsy without a huge cross to carry; but Tuco decides to think about it anyway. It’s a way to pass the time, without thinking about the cutting wind, or the way the rain’s now leaking down his back (serves him right, not remembering to patch that rent), or how much in general he’d rather be back safe and snug in Angel’s gatehouse sanctuary- 

- okay, so he is thinking about that. A bit of adventure, a bit of risk, would have been nice, but this is just moderately uncomfortable and inane. Maybe he ought to be paying more attention to Blondie, who’s leading the prayers for this station- standing in front of the shrine, facing the wind. Does wonders for his appearance, pale and entrancing and his hair swept back. 

Maybe that’s how Blondie’s holding everybody’s attention like that; Pablo, the priests, even Wallace is gazing at him with weird rapt fascination, as though they’ve never seen a hustler in full cry. Doesn’t really make sense. They’ve all given performances, they must know how this works.

But they really seem to think he’s something special- 

and then Blondie faints, collapsing gracefully into the mud; and of course Tuco’s first to reach his partner, but he can’t help feeling something’s gone straight over his head. In Latin, probably. He checks for breathing and pulse, scrapes mud off with a handkerchief, all the while feeling thirteen sets of eyes, watching them with avid intent. 

“I’m going to die,” Blondie says, beatifically. 

“Like fuck you are,” Tuco snaps, his mind a second ahead of his instincts (or it would have been in Spanish, and Blondie doesn’t know that)- and it hits him just as it ceases, what kind of hustle he’s interrupted. Not a dreary trudge through the rain, but a passion play, a pilgrimage, Blondie’s fall and himself incorporated for the pieta- 

and he’s only gone and profaned everything. Whoops. His hands are damp and disgustingly sticky.  

“Pablo, we need to get him back to the bus, I think that wound’s reopened again. Someone want to help?”

“You take his feet, I’ll take the other end,” Wallace says heavily. “We’ll manage.”

“Perhaps we should all help,” Pablo offers. 

Tuco shakes his head. “One’s enough. You all carry on, Father. If it’s bad I’ll make sure he gets to hospital. Pray for him, will you?”

And all that priestly reserve is finally broken: they swear they will, mouths full of promises. For whatever good that’ll do Blondie. Maybe something, when he’s up to listening again. 

So he and Wallace start down the hill, which ought to be easier than going up but isn’t; it’s slippery, treacherous footing with their burden in tow, and fasting or not, Blondie still isn’t any lightweight. Station after station, after station...there’s a stitch in his chest that hurts like anything, and his gasps sound like whimpering. 

“You’re slowing us up,” Wallace says. “It’d be faster if I carried him myself, and you followed.”

He’d like to slap this big priest, push him around a bit, tell him just what he thinks of him. “Good idea,” Tuco manages. Has to leave off there because he’s run out of breath. 

(Blondie, now, he wouldn’t have run out of breath.)

#70s au #the good the bad and the ugly #catholic

[anodyne-sunflower]

Love me like you do (Part 27)-Balem series

A/N: Damn, Part 27 is here. What a ride lol I get a little sad with every chapter I update, knowing it’s only that much closer to the end. Ugh. No. Enjoy…

MOOD MUSIC: Game of survival by Ruelle

***

A new era…Titus said it with such finality it almost made you believe him. A world where men like him and Balem didn’t exist was a world that was safe. Far away from the greedy hands that only sought to allow life if it meant its growth for future purposes. Deep down, you never doubted Balem’s intentions with earth. The topic was never brought up since the very first time, and you had simply become complacent. Even now through all of this, all you truly wished for was his arms again. To be in them and forget the rest of the world around you. In spite of what Titus had shown you, in spite of Balem’s harsh words…you couldn’t fully bring yourself to accept them. He was a cold and calculating man, but you loved him all the same. He could do so many wrongs in your eyes, but you would never hate him for it. Perhaps that was the most difficult part for you. Knowing you stood by and said nothing of his cruelties.

“A new era, you truly mean that?” You didn’t care for his words, and you weren’t foolish enough to believe him quite yet. But, if satisfying Titus’ wants kept you alive, then you were willing to play along with it. You couldn’t fully speak on the Balem matter yet, because your heart was running in two different directions. But, you were more than certain he did not lie when he said he loved you. Over the months you had developed a respect for him, even through all his faults, you saw a man willing to go to whatever lengths necessary to keep his livelihood intact. He was ambitious, and you admired him for it. He could lie to his brother’s face, many times over, but he had no reason to ever do so to you. But, if Titus had accomplished one thing today it was making you snap awake from the reverie of love, and realize the world you had so hopelessly fallen into.

“You have my word.” Titus assured you, turning you around to look him in the eye as he once again gave his proposal. “With you by my side, we both can create a universe unlike all those before us. It’s simple, my dear.” He smiled brightly, turning back to his dresser and grabbing something off of it. He held the small velvet box before you, gently tilting it down so you could watch every moment. “All you have to do, is say yes.”

He slowly opened the lid, revealing the sparkle of a silver ring, complete with a ruby set in the middle with diamonds encircling it. All around those flowered out more rubies, giving the jewelry a wealthy look. You couldn’t help but think of Balem, knowing if he ever set his eyes on this he’d immediately send it back for something else. The difference between the brothers was almost amusing. But, that wasn’t the current pressing concern for you. Titus had every intention of going through with this plan, and you had to wonder what exactly he’d do if you said no. But, that wasn’t an option for you now, and if agreeing to this plan bought time then you’d do it. “Yes.”

***

“I told you not to let anyone in! You fool!” Kalique rushed her steps down the bridge of her alcazar, picking up the ends of her silver dress as she constantly gazed over her shoulder. She couldn’t fathom what Balem would do to her, nor did she wish to stick around to find out. Her brother was ruthless in his endeavors, she knew that, but for all their work to come to this…it was a waste. The gates to Cerise crumbled above in the sky, large chunks of the metal crashing into the oceans below. The sounds that rocked her palace were fear inducing, and she screamed as she ducked her head running. “Get my guards, Malidictes! Seal my alcazar. If you let Balem in, I will happily throw you to the wolves.” She pushed passed her advisor, stopping at the threshold of her grand palace before seeing the large black clipper descend from the heavens. The burst of wind that came from it roared down her planet, her dress billowing behind her and her usual hairstyle now a mess of curls. Kalique knew she should run, perhaps bury herself deep within the confines of her home where not even Balem could find her. But, she could not bring herself to look away as the Abrasax ship docked at the end of the bridge.

It’s belly crashed into the stone, reducing it to nothing more than ruins. She saw the weapons come to life, the glow of the lasers nearly blinding her and her men. For a moment she swore this would be it, all her thousands of years now a memory in the fabric of the universe. Only Balem was not satisfied with an easy death, he would bring her suffering before figuring out her fate.

“Sister!”

It came as the first sign of his rage, that harsh tone echoing down the bridge and making her grow pale. Kalique gripped the door, her jaw set tight as she tried to look the picture of royalty. But, Balem would see right through her facade and into the depths of her eyes where the fear of retaliation burned.

Kalique swallowed her anxiety, watching as the ramp descended over the ground of broken stone. In almost all parts of history you hear of great men ruling above their subjects, sending them out to fight their battles and simply reaping all the rewards of their conquests. She expected to be met with guards, guns and swords at the ready to finish her legacy. But, to her surprise she was greeted with the face of her kin. Balem had looked exhausted, but the fire in his stare was evident. He had crossed space with one mission in mind, and she knew he would not leave until he accomplished it.

“Balem…” she whispered into the air, desperation growing when her eldest brother began walking down the ramp. He never took his eyes off her, and for all the damage Titus had caused to him, he was still a man with the power of the universe at his fingertips. A force to be reckoned with.

Balem’s boot crushed the stone he walked over, his ambition to destroy Kalique pulsing wildly in his veins. There was no way in hell she had no idea of Titus’ tricks, and if she would not talk willingly…he would make her. “Enter that palace, and I will make sure you never leave it again.” He spat out, the only thing stopping him from taking it was gathering what information he needed on your location. The minute she told him, he could not promise he’d be merciful.

Kalique looked around her, trying not to tear her gaze away for too long from her brother. But, she was outnumbered, his army was vast and nothing short of a miracle would keep them from taking down her door. Even now, above the planet in the stratosphere she was sure there was more ships waiting. Sometimes you had to have the foresight to surrender, and she listened to that instinct now. “Draw your men back…Let us talk like real family, and I will give you the answers you want.”

“My lord-“

Balem held his hand up, silencing his advisor as he considered her offer. He never held a fear of his sister, for all her conniving glory she was still the only sibling he respected. “Very well.” He turned his gaze to Mr. Night, a warning in his eyes that said if anything happens to destroy this planet and every living thing on it. “Let us talk like family.”

***

For all the years you spent on earth, seeing yourself now…it would’ve been amusing to witness. Unfortunately, the apprehensions you held in this moment weren’t close to the humor you wanted to feel. Because, this wasn’t a joke, it was painfully real. You had been swept away into a world that scientists could only dream of, and on top of that you were now tangled into a web of the rich and powerful. With no escape in sight.

“I can do this myself.” You flatly spoke, turning your angry gaze to the servant helping you into the dress. She was not the issue with your problems, but you felt little remorse for your attitude now. Just when life was beginning to make a shred of sense, you were once again propelled into another Abrasax feud.

“But, my lady-“

“I am not your lady. Go.”

For someone you had just met, the poor girl already seemed frightened of you. Perhaps the Abrasax family had rubbed off on you after all. With one final bow she removed herself from the room, leaving you to contemplate in silence. The chambers were eerily quiet, giving off an uncomfortable vibe that seemed rather fitting for the choices you had just made. Forced or not, it felt like a deep shame on you now. “Balem…” Saying his name only made that madness grow, and you hoped by some miracle this would all work out in the end.

With a calming sigh, you reached down, gripping the breast of the outfit and tugging it up. The blue mermaid style dress hung beautifully around your frame, the jewels and diamonds that decorated it flashing brightly in the candle light of the room. It was a loud outfit, one that didn’t come close to suiting your personality, but oh, how fitting it was for the third heir to the Abrasax dynasty.

“Aren’t you a beautiful bride.”

His silky voice broke the silence, giving you a sick feeling deep inside. His presence alone brought a disgust to you unlike any other, but for survivals sake you’d pretend this was a normal conversation. “Thank you.” It was monotonous, nothing that could possibly gain Titus’ favor, but you had to give yourself credit for even trying. Balem loathed his brother, and while you weren’t completely acquainted with him you could already understand why.

“Now, now…no need to be so…on edge.” Titus waved his hand in the air, standing back as he looked your figure up and down. He seemed pleased enough, like a sculptor admiring his finished work. Then again, any man would find pleasure in building their preferred woman.

“Shall I pretend to love you?”

Titus chuckled deeply in amusement, feeling the bite behind your remark. You certainly were his brother’s lover, that attitude had a way of being contagious. “You sound just like him.” He casually walked over to you, grabbing the headdress from the dresser and turning you back towards the mirror. It felt pitiful to look at your reflection, seeing how far Titus’ influence could reach. You tried to tell yourself this was all part of a larger plan, but with no ending in sight…it was easy to question what you were even trying to accomplish here. “I understand how painful this must be.”

“Do you now?”

“Don’t be so bitter, my dear.” Titus situated the silver headpiece on you, the chains hanging over your hair and ears. The sapphire beads and jewels dangled delicately over your features, creating a portrait of a person you didn’t even recognize anymore. “I’ve explained already, this is for the best. Together we could build dynasties that people only dream of.”

“And at what cost?” You questioned, looking up at him with little respect in your eyes. For all his talk of a perfect world, he seemed far too problematic a man for that. If he couldn’t handle being in the shadow of Balem, who knew what else he was capable of.

“Our happiness?” Titus responded quickly, though the truth to that statement was evident in his expression. “People like us don’t get the privilege of choosing our love, our calling is much higher.”

“I chose-“

“Nonsense. You were taken from your home and used like a late night stress relief. Don’t tell me that’s choosing your love.”

He could stand and lecture you all day, he could even propose such a foolish plan as marrying you, but pretending he understood what you had with Balem was something else entirely. It’s true, all this started from a less than perfect point in time. But, you were never in question of your feelings for the Primary. You loved him deeply, and as Titus said you loved him so much the details of his personality were null and void. “I don’t need to explain to you how I feel for him.”

“Mm. I suppose not, but,” Titus curled a finger around the beads in your headpiece, smiling as he made you face the truth of his words. “Look where you’re at now.”

“I’m doing this because I love-”

“Him? Well, I can’t argue that logic. Love makes us do foolish things.” He admired the work on your outfit, but somewhere in his eyes you noticed a flicker of doubt. His mind seemed elsewhere now, giving you a brief look into the fragile state most of the Abrasax family had within them. You had seen that expression before on Balem, like the past hadn’t fully buried itself. “Love made my mother give Balem everything. He always was her favorite…”

It seemed a strange thing to hear from him, especially since there wasn’t much rapport you had developed between one another. Yet, Titus stood there lost in his thoughts like a child waiting for comfort. But, there wasn’t any left in your heart to offer to a man like him. “Is that why you’re doing this? All of this…? Do you all hate your mother so much it-“

“On the contrary, I loved my mother.” He slowly pulled away from you, dropping the jewels from his palm and walking to the door. He didn’t bother leaving just yet, but he appeared withdrawn now. Different from the arrogant, self entitled Titus you had come to know. “She taught me everything one needed to survive in this world. Including taking that which I want the most.” Titus glared over at you, hands clasped smartly behind his back. “Unfortunately, those lessons would turn against her.”

You parted your lips in confusion, brow furrowing while you awaited further explanation from him. None came though, and while he stayed silent on the matter your mind was already running with numerous thoughts. There was one time Nevaeh had spoken to you of their mother, Seraphi, detailing the triumph and fall of the sovereign’s reign. She seemed a powerful and intimidating woman, one you were glad you had never met. But, her death was mired in chaos and mystery, something Nevaeh said Balem was at fault for. You always had trouble believing he’d murder his own mother, in spite of his cold nature towards most, it was out of character in your opinion. Some would call that blinded by love, but you weren’t so naive to fall for that. He had some honor, more than his siblings anyway. “Did you…” You contemplated your inquiry, noting the hint of accusation behind it. You had to ponder if he’d take such offense to the question, it’d mean your life. “Did you kill her?”

Titus stopped at the doorway, barely turning his head to look at you. He had a smile on his lips, but there was no regret in it. “Nonsense. Haven’t you heard the rumors? Balem did.” And he left you with that knowledge, the doors sliding shut behind him.

It’s like he appreciated the question though, almost hoping you’d ask him about it. Just to give him another reason to paint Balem in an awful picture, as if that reputation he gave his brother would be enough to secure his throne. You realized it then, Titus was the one who brought this mayhem upon his family.

***

Balem made his way down the bridge, eyes set on Kalique the entire way. He had no intention to harm her just yet, but that would depend on the answers she provided him. He didn’t like wasting time, especially when his woman was halfway across the galaxy by now. The very thought of you on your own, within the claws of Titus, it set a fire in him that was begging to spread. He stopped at the entrance of her alcazar, eyes turning to her advisor with lack of interest. He did find pleasure in watching the splice cower before him, something he was positive his sister lacked in her rule here. “For your sake, Kalique…I hope you have more for me than your lies and deceit.”

“I wouldn’t think to waste your time, brother.” She smiled, backing away as Balem crossed the threshold into her home. She felt his gaze on her the whole time as he passed, that fury he felt still bottled up. She could only try to keep it that way. “Malidictes, do not disturb us.”

“As you wish, my lady.” The advisor watched them leave into the palace warily, his instincts telling him this likely wouldn’t end well for anybody. But, he was in no position to interrupt or interfere. Whatever chaos broke out, would be the doing of his master.

The doors closed ominously behind Kalique, her demeanor showing how fearful she was of her older brother. In spite of his cruel nature, he could be considered a man of his word. And she intended to use that to her benefit. Anything to stay within her current means of living. “Balem-“

“Of all the places to hide away…” The Primary abruptly cut her off, his back to her as he gazed around the room. There was an abundance of candles on the ground, creating a path right to the statue of his late mother. She stood tall over them both, her empty gaze still seemingly superior to themselves. “You choose to seek comfort in the memory of mother. How touching…” He scoffed, not impressed by her little game.

“I was simply praying-“

“Enough games, Kalique. Where is she?” Balem was pressed on time, and he wasn’t here for entertainment or hospitality.

“I don’t know.” She instantly regretted her words, knowing it wasn’t the answer her brother wanted. Within seconds he was on her, fingers digging into her cheeks as he cupped her face roughly.

“LIAR!” Balem pushed her into the stone pillar, her labored breaths brushing against his hand. He could kill her right here, let her useless existence finally wash away into the stars of the universe. “Tell me, sister. I do not like being played for a fool!”

Kalique gripped at his wrist, trying to pry his hand off only to have him tighten his hold on her. “I don’t know! Not exactly! You think Titus would confess all to me?!”

Balem seethed down at her, trying to analyze the extent of her deception. Even in the throes of pain she could be manipulative, a chance he wasn’t willing to risk. “In the last few months I’ve been stalked, nearly killed, and I’m to believe you had no part in this? Do you think me that naive?!” He crushed her against the pillar, drawing faint breaths from her throat as she struggled against him.

“I-I am not innocent in that, but I had no part in Titus’-“

“ENOUGH! Tell me where he is, or I will make you suffer for a thousand more years before I take your life. See if mother answers your prayers then.” He was losing it, her little act now grating on his nerves. If she kept this up, he’d resort to more violent methods to retrieve his answers.

“Very well!” Kalique choked out, trying to remain as dignified as she could under his control. “I found a stipulation in the will, one that would make Titus heir if he-ah!” Balem’s hand came down to her throat, squeezing harshly while she writhed about in pain.

“Do not lie to me-“

“I’m not!” Kalique clawed at his arm, tugging at his cape that hung from the straps of his wrist. In her struggle she nearly ripped them off, her eyes growing red from the lack of air in her lungs. It was only seconds before he loosened enough to let her speak, his eyes trained on her in a furious manner. “Mother wanted heirs, she gave everything to you but if Titus or I were to marry, your claim would be void.”

“Since when did mother ever care about grandchildren?” Balem felt deceived again, the nonsense of marriage ending his inheritance seemed entirely false. He could not fathom Seraphi as the doting grandparent, if she had any interest it was for selfish reasons.

“Don’t be a fool, Balem. You know better than I she only cares for herself and her legacy. The sooner we provide heirs, the longer her name will live on.”

“You fed him these ideas and now he’s gallivanting about with these delusions of grandeur!”

“Titus is his own man, Balem! He does as he wishes. I couldn’t stop him even if I tried! I didn’t want him to attack Jupiter, and he did anyway!”

He heard enough of her voice, and with a growl he threw her to the floor, watching as she coughed and held her throat in relief. “I’m giving you one last chance, sister. Tell me where he is.”

Kalique felt her throat burning, the oxygen flowing in at a rapid pace nearly nauseating her. She could only glare at Balem, hair falling into her fair features as she spat back. “Somewhere around Orous, near the commonwealth ministry. He intends to marry your lover as quickly as possible.”

“Ahh!” Balem screamed at her, slamming his fist against the pillar and startling his sister. She instinctively backed into it, body stiffening under his rage. “You are lucky I do not kill you where you grovel!”

“You speak of luck as if it’s a grievance in life…well, brother, luck is all you have now. Hopefully the stars are in your favor and he doesn’t marry your precious little play thing by the time you find him.” Kalique found her courage, even if the fear still tugged at her heart. She had never seen him this angry, but she had hope he wouldn’t kill her now after all this.

Balem smirked down at her, seeing nothing but a pathetic frightful woman who tried to cling to the dignity she had left. He almost felt for her, but she was the master behind her own undoing. “The only reason you live is out of the small shred of respect I hold for you, Kalique.” He removed his palm from the stone, backing away and heading towards the exit. The small breeze of his pace waved over the candles, blowing some out before he left the alcazar. He stopped at the doors, glaring at Kalique over his shoulder with a final goodbye. “Do not bother me again…I won’t be so merciful next time.”

*** A/N: Holllly shit. This games got juice.

#balem abrasax x you #balem x reader #balem abrasax #balem abrasax x reader #balem x you #jupiter ascending #eddie redmayne #balem

[shewhowantsmouseears]

Love Like Lava, 6

Notes: As always, big massive thank yous to my marvelous editors, Drucilla and Blueshifted!

I feel like this chapter is mostly filler. In between the horrifying sadness, anyway.

This storyline troubled me for years, in that I couldn't find a way to do the Pygmalion plot with Goofy without making it really creepy. Then it hit me - explore and explain the creepiness!

Summary: In trying to give a blessed gift, Minnie winds up giving Goofy an unknowing curse. As she becomes closer to Mickey, the sculptor's heart is broken once more.

Goofy had been a young man when he lost his lady love, although in such ancient times, twenty was a perfect age for marriage. He'd lost his own parents years before, but had been able to pull through thanks to Millicent's tender love and care. When she died, he felt as if a part of him had died with her. Even now with Goofy in his forties, the pain lingered like a fresh wound. He longed to see her again with every beat of his heart.

But longing didn't make miracles, so when he regained consciousness and saw his formerly dead sweetheart kneeling at his side patiently, it was almost enough to knock him out again. He wasn't particularly knowledgeable about many things in the world, but even he knew that the dead stayed dead, simple as that. He opened his eyes again, and she was still there.

“Does your head hurt?” the girl asked, hands on her thighs, cocking her head to see if a lump had formed on top of Goofy's skull – it was difficult to tell since his head was naturally bumpy. “Your head hit the floor really hard.”

He didn't speak at first – more accurately, he didn't possess the words to fit what was going through his heart and mind. Fear tried to freeze the blood in his veins, knowing something had gone against the very will of nature, yet unbridled happiness would melt it away because she was there and she was alive and what could be wrong with that? He heaved as he forced himself to sit up, hot tears blurring his vision. “Millie?” His voice cracked like glass, terrified and joyous, scared and elated. “Is... is it really...you?” His trembling hands reached out to cup her cheeks – cheeks that were warm, of fur and skin and flesh, and a sob escaped his throat. She hadn't aged a day since that fateful one decades past, looking the same as she did before she went on that deadly voyage.

“Well, who else would I be?” she replied, chuckling softly at his reaction, allowing his hands to do as they pleased. “Honestly, Goofy, you ask the silliest questions. You'd better expect some very silly answers.”

Goofy yanked Millie into his arms, his face becoming a wet embarrassment. “Millie!” It was nearly a howl of agony, all the years of pain released into this very moment. He wept her name over and over until it was a jumble of incomprehensible letters, and he didn't care if the entire village went up in flames so long as this time would never end. Millie, for her part, made no effort to wipe away his tears, as she figured they wouldn't stop for a while. She simply rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers curling against the shabbily made necklace that hung from her neck.

“I've missed you,” Goofy managed to speak in between hard breaths. “I never stopped thinkin' about you, all these years...I wanted you back every single day.”

“What do you mean, you silly goof? I've been here for a long time.”

The sculptor's eyes snapped open, a sudden and terrible realization out on the horizon. He wanted to believe she meant something sappy, like she'd been in his heart all along. He untangled his arms from around her thin body, pulling back enough to stare at her cheerful face. “Wh-whaddya mean? Whaddya mean you've been here for a long time?”

“You must have hit your hard much harder than I thought,” Millie quipped, still strangely peaceful despite all the sobs and screams. She lifted her hand and pointed to where the statue of her once stood – and stood no more. “I've been right there for years. Don't you remember? You say hello to me every morning and dust me off once a week.”

Now fear won out and Goofy's very soul felt as if it had become encased in ice. His fingers trembled, and for once he wished he really was as stupid as everyone believed he was, so he wouldn't have to understand what was happening. “M-Millie...What...what was your father's name?”

The poodle paused, her pretty eyes bouncing back and forth in contemplation. After a brief moment she merely shrugged. “I don't know. I don't think you've mentioned him.”

Bile began to rise in Goofy's throat, and now he could no longer control himself. He shoved Millie off of his lap, and she rolled over with a startled cry. “Who are you?” He scrambled to his feet, pressing himself to the wall, as if he was corned by a monstrosity that had come from a place he dared not imagine. “You're not Millie! Who are you?!”

Millie – the girl – whoever she was – whatever she was – slowly rose up, her once pleased face now wrinkled with confusion. “But you've always called me Millie. Isn't that who I am?”

“No!” Everything inside of Goofy hurt, but before he could even try to rationalize anything, his eyes found the necklace. A hot rage blinded him, that wound of memories now bleeding and raw. “That's not yours! Take that off! THAT'S NOT YOURS!” His hand lashed out, grabbing the necklace and snatching it off her neck, scratching the girl's neck with two harsh cuts. He was about to demand how she thought she could wear this, how much pain she planned to inflict upon him, but the girl was whimpering now, touching the injuries where spots of blood began to prickle. It was her first time experiencing pain, of many varieties. Guilt lowered Goofy's arm. “I...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...”

She began to open her mouth, but Goofy knew he wouldn't be able to handle any more words. “I can't, I'm sorry, I can't... I gotta... I gotta...” Without any further explanation than that, he fled from the room, the destroyed necklace still in his hand. He burst from his house, unsure of where to go but he had to get away from there. He ran and ran and ran, confusing his neighbors when he didn't even try to say good morning. He ran until his legs gave out, letting him collapse in a patch of dry grass, not caring who, if anyone, saw him retch and cry like a sick child.

As for the girl who wasn't Millie, she was at a complete loss what to do. She sat there for a time, rubbing her sore neck, trying and failing to understand what his words had meant. Eventually she began to imitate what she would see Goofy do on a normal day – dust off his statues, make his bed, and have breakfast. She ate and ate and ate until she experienced her first stomachache, and as she sat on the dirty floor, licking an apple core between her sticky fingers, she wondered how she would, in Aphrodite's words, “Heal Goofy's heart”.

Regardless of how much pain anyone was in, the day went on, as time always does in its unforgiving and relentless way.

~*~

As Minnie had promised, she came back to Mickey's cave the very next morning. He'd still had lingering doubts she would come, but just in case, he took the longest bath he ever had. It was worth it, as she flounced into the cave without Axelia's assistance as if the place was her second home. Like day one, she asked question upon question and he gave answer upon answer.

One of those questions involved a map she was allowed to take from his wall. “Where is this?” she asked, spreading it out on the floor as Mickey hammered away, breaking up ores to find the precious minerals and stones inside.

“The coast of Izmir.” Mickey paused briefly in his work to make sure he was remembering it right. “I think. That's what the girls say, anyway.” He resumed his smashing, bits of broken rock spitting back at him. “Sometimes if I have a free day, I'll ask them to describe coasts and shorelines of other places, so I can try to draw 'em.”

Minnie lifted her head, her hands still flat on the map. “Why don't you just go to these places to see if you got them right? You're a god, aren't you? You can go anywhere you want with just a thought.”

“Aw, what do I need with other places?” He rolled his shoulder, letting the past where he did in fact long to go to those places slide down his back to be forgotten. “I got everything I need right here: Food, friends, and a furnace. Can't ask for anythin' else.”

Minnie pouted, her cute cheeks puffing out. He was a stubborn one when he wanted to be. As much as she wanted to tell him about her accomplishment with the statue, she felt it wasn't right to divulge anything about herself as long as she was keeping her name a secret. Besides, there was much more to learn about him. Maybe once she learned absolutely everything about him, she could even the score and tell him the truth. Maybe.

“Asking and wanting are two different things,” Minnie said after she placed the map back on the wall. “I bet you've wanted a lot of things!”

Mickey snorted, not bothering to raise his head as he answered. “Y'think you know me so well already? This is just day two, missy. If I say there's nothin' I want, then there's nothin' I want. What makes you think you know me better than I know yourself?”

“Because everyone wants something! It's part of what makes us who we are.” Minnie skipped to his work bench, plopping herself down beside him. “There are a lot of things I want every day. A beautiful sun in the sky, a new friend to make, and to learn lots of things I didn't know before.” She then grabbed his arm to force him to look at her, though it really didn't take that much. “Are you honestly telling me, right here and right now, there's absolutely nothing you want?”

If Mickey didn't know any better he'd swear she was implying something else, and his cheeks reddened. Of course there were things he wanted, but wanting was foolish when you would never get your desires. In the end, it only caused suffering. However, this strange feminine beauty gazing intently at him for reasons he couldn't fathom was suffering in its own way. A girl like this could kill a better man, with those gorgeous eyes of hers that – “Hey!” he realized, much to his relief to have a distraction, “Did you know your eyes change color?”

Minnie blinked rapidly, her train of thought now on a different track. “Huh? They do?”

“I think so! They were red before – now they're like, kinda orange. I dunno... Hey, Axelia!”

The Axelia he called for had been organizing his blueprints, but she stopped abruptly upon command. She walked over, arms straight at her side, waiting for further instructions. Mickey placed his hammer aside, grabbed Minnie by the shoulders with both hands, and turned her around. “What color are Minnie's eyes?”

Axelia craned her golden neck at Minnie, and the answer came in seconds. “They-Are-Black-Black-Black.”

Mickey laughed in amusement, and instead of taking up his tool again, he reached for his walking stick. “I ain't ever heard of any mortal, myth, or creature that can change their eye color! How come you didn't know you could do that?”

Minnie slid off the work bench and smoothed down her dress, although as usual there wasn't a single wrinkle to be found. “I guess everyone assumed I already knew. Now it makes me want to ask everyone I know what color my eyes are!” She giggled, wondering if Daisy saw the colors of the garden or the colors of her husband's gaze. “Didn't you say orange was your favorite color?”

“Sure did.” Though it begged the question why it had been red before – and why, on their first meeting, he'd seen blue. But if Minnie didn't even realize her eyes changed color, then it would be useless to ask her the reasons behind it. “C'mon, I want to show you to the girls. Bet they'll get a real hoot out of this.” He began to chuckle again, already imagining them squeaking like dolphins at Minnie's eyes. Maybe Minnie was something nautical like them.

As Mickey placed his walking stick under his left arm and began to hobble along, Minnie had to physically stop herself from trying to help him along. If he could create women of gold, beautiful jewelry, and weapons designed for others, why did he settle for a mere stick for disability? She tilted her head as she watched him. “Mickey, has your leg always been like that?”

Mickey stopped, though his eyes instinctively went to his twisted limb. He supposed she was bound to ask eventually, since it was his worst feature and biggest shame. “Yep. Can't move it, and can't feel most of it.” He waited to hear the inevitable follow up questions – Can't you fix it? Can't you make it work? Doesn't it bother you? Why is it like that? Why don't other gods look like that -

“Are you ticklish there?”

“No.” Wait. What? Mickey turned his head, and Minnie was at his side, all smiles and sunshine as always. “Huh?”

“Well, you mentioned seeing the girls, and I figured they've probably tried to tickle you all over before. I don't even know if I'm ticklish.” Her hands were knotted behind her back, keeping slowly with Mickey's pace as they made their way forward together. “The mermaids, the nereids...They're like your family, right?” If they were Mickey's friends and family, then she had to become their friends and family too.

Mickey wondered if he'd ever understand how Minnie's mind worked. “Ah, um, yeah. They raised me since I was a little guy. Mermaids taught me how to talk, nereids taught me how to walk. They fed me and took care of me until I could do it myself.” Though they were headed for the sunlight, Mickey's eyes stayed down, thinking of saltwater days when the girls would lay on the sand with him, holding him until he went to sleep. “I know folks think they're a bunch of dummies...but they've got good hearts. They didn't have to keep me. Makin' 'em feel prettier is the least I can do repay 'em. So – so go easy on 'em if they bother you, all right?”

Mickey thought he was simply saying the facts as they were, but Minnie could hear the depths of his appreciation and care with every sentence. The same could be said of his gifts – they were only so breathtaking because he put genuine love into each craft, trying to say with metal what he couldn't express in words. “Of course, Mickey. I would be honored to meet your precious family.”

He almost asked why, but didn't. They walked around the sharp rocks, sat upon the sandy cliffside, and Mickey taught Minnie his special whistle to summon his companions – two fingers, pinky down, sharp breath. Minnie was still practicing when bubbles began to pop up underneath their feet, followed by giggling and splashing. Once again, as had happened more times than Minnie could count, the women froze momentarily as they got an eyeful of the goddess of beauty. She waved and spoke to knock them out of their shock. “Hello, everyone! It's very nice to meet you all.”

Mickey cleared his throat and straightened his back. “All right, everyone, this here's Minnie. You treat her nice, understand? Cause I brought her here for a fun game.”

“Game, game, game, I love playing games!” “I want to play a game with pretty Minnie!”

“I'm the best at playing games and being pretty!”

“Okay, good! All you gotta do is answer one question.” Mickey gestured towards Minnie's face, making sure not to block their view. “What color are her eyes?”

“Pink! I win!” “Where do you see pink? Her eyes are purple!”

“They're green! Green, green, green!”

Perhaps Mickey had overestimated how gracious his girls would be, as instead of making it a fun guess, now they began to argue about who was right. They began to splash at each other, tugging on hair and taking sides. “Hey, hey, hey! Calm down!” He grabbed his walking stick, intending to physically split apart those he could, but when his back was turned, he heard Minnie give out a surprised  “Oh!” followed by a splash.

Color drained from his face – he wanted to impress his mermaids and nereids, and now he was making a horrible impression on his new friend. “Minnie!” He whipped around, but it was too late. She'd been captured by the gaggle of girls, so one could clearly show the other Minnie's eye color. Minnie herself was unharmed, blinking away water from her eyelashes. Mickey was imagining a thousand scenarios, most of them winding up with a frustrated Minnie storming off after being humiliated and never turning up on the island again. “You – you – you fish heads! You let her go!” He waved his walking stick at them, but this was as far as he could go. With his leg the way it was, he couldn't swim.

Yet Minnie wasn't as helpless as everyone tended to think. With a smirk curling on her lips, she clapped her hands once. “Everybody wins!”

A beat of silence overcame the school of fish friends, and then an eruption of celebration squealed forth, with clapping and spinning and singing.

“I win, I win, I win!” “I won too!”

“This was the best game ever!”

With that miniature crisis over, Minnie flashed a sporting grin at her companion, but Mickey still wasn't relieved. He offered her a hand, and while she took it, she didn't pull herself out of the water. “Aw, Minnie, I, I'm so sorry! I thought they'd be better behaved than this!”

“Oh, Mickey, relax!” She squeezed his hand before letting go, letting herself float on her back. “You just have to know how to talk to them. I guess I know you and your girls better than you do after all!”

Mickey's eyes narrowed, taking the challenge. “You think so?” This girl was nuts, bonkers, and absolutely off the wall. What a nice change from his predictable lifestyle. He found a smile forming on his mouth, and he twirled his stick in the air. “Say, ladies! Minnie here doesn't know where she's ticklish!”

Minnie's eyes widened. “You wouldn't dare.”

He dared. “Why don't you all be a bunch of good girls and help her find out?” In seconds Minnie was mobbed by eager fingers and screeching laughter. It was also nice to have someone else be a target for once. Even this didn't frighten Minnie away, as she tried to return the favor and tickle back her assailants. The game eventually grew boring for some of the elders, who now wanted to dress Minnie up in pearls and seaweed, which she allowed as long as they introduced themselves.

Mickey watched without comment, chewing on his lower lip. A part of him thought that maybe, perhaps, he'd been trying to see if she would be driven away by his nautical allies – almost counting on it, because she would be driven away eventually, inevitably. She would find a reason to leave as soon as her tiara was completed. His mind worked to excuse what he saw – so, fine, she liked mermaids and nereids, but you could find them on any shore, and the world was a big place. If she wanted their company, she could go anywhere she wanted.

She would leave him. That was a fact. Minnie was kissing the foreheads of the younger mermaids and allowing an older nereid to play with her spitcurls. When they tried to give her the trinkets Mickey had made for them, she politely declined, insisting it looked much better on them. “And I wouldn't want to take away anything your dear brother gave you.”

“Brother?” The nereid adorned with green coral repeated, looking at her sisters and aunts and mothers for help. “I don't have a brother. Do I have a brother?”

Mickey raised his hand. “I think she means me.”

“Mickey's not my brother. Mickey is Mickey!”

“Mickey's not our brother or cousin or uncle or father because those are all boring.”

“We have a Mickey, and no one else has a Mickey, so we're the best.”

“Best Mickey, best Mickey, best Mickey!”

Minnie quietly glanced at Mickey, thinking she might see a hurt or pained expression, but instead he was just rolling his eyes with a knowing smile. This was not like the traditional families she saw on the mortal plane, with a pair of mothers and fathers and a set number of children. This was a family of choice, but still a family nonetheless. In their forgetful ways, they latched onto the new topic of conversation by showering Mickey with compliments and requests for more pretty accessories, playing keep away with his walking stick but being sure to never break it. With a bit more personal space now around her, Minnie swam back to the cliffside and tried to climb back up.

“I'm sorry,” Mickey mumbled, not making eye contact with her.

“About what?” Minnie asked as she began to squeeze water out of her dress.

“Y'know, them! I should've figured they'd pull some kinda stunt. They're not that bad, normally, I swear.”

“Mickey-”

“It's just - they can't help it, okay? That's what they are. I've tried teachin' 'em, but it's hard, cause they don't wanna learn.”

“Mickey-”

“You can't just snap your fingers and make seagulls change the color of their feathers, and it's like with them, you can't expect too much, you can't-”

Minnie pushed her palm against his mouth in a quick attempt to shush him. “Mickey. You don't have to make excuses for them.”

“Mmmmf?” Mickey asked, which roughly translated to “Really?”

“Yes, really. I like them. I like you. I like being here. Now will you please relax?” She made him nod by pushing his head back down, and then pulled her hand back, poking him on the nose afterward. “You don't have to apologize for them like that. Just tell me about them. Please.”

Mickey almost asked if she was entirely sure, absolutely sure, but she was giving him that funny, intense gaze again. He sucked on the inside of his cheek, trying to make himself calm down and do what she had so kindly asked. He had been ready to both defend and excuse his beach beauties much like he had felt he needed to both defend and excuse his entire being. He knew their reputation across the lands – and that it wasn't entirely unjustified – but they were his, and if no one would accept them, then good riddance to those jerks. But she was accepting them.

She was accepting of a lot of things.

Mickey cleared his throat. “Fine, then, you better pay attention, cause I'm not going to go through everyone a second time.” His eyes found the nearest girl, and he motioned to her with a point. “That there is Lydia.” Upon being named, a raven haired nereid swam forward, returning his walking stick and getting an affectionate pat on the head in return. “She's Tallia's little sister.  She likes to wear things that make a lot of noise.” So evidenced by dangling hooped earrings that clinked whenever she moved her head.

“It's nice to meet you, Lydia.” Minnie placed her hands on her lap, leaning forward. “Why do you like making a lot of noise?”

“Because then it's really hard to ignore me!” Lydia yelled giddily, clapping her hands as hard as she could.

“Very well, then I will never ignore you.” She moved to flick Lydia's earrings, making them clink and clank back and forth, and Lydia kicked in the water, thrilled to bits. Mickey then introduced her older sister Tallia, then Aquata, then Calista, Andria, Rydia, one after the after, telling them how they were related, what treasures they desired, favorite moments out on the sea, who could imitate a dolphin's call, the best backflipper, so on and so forth. With each meeting, Minnie made sure to do more than greet them – she interacted, she asked questions, she complimented. She made an effort to remember each and every single one of them, which to a newcomer was no easy task. It helped that she genuinely adored them, and found them like children with grown bodies. It was, she imagined, like a new mother being introduced to the young ones of her new beau.

Having children with Mickey  - wasn't that a lovely spot of fantasy! Though she had tried to tell herself that she couldn't really love Mickey without knowing all about him, her mind didn't get the message, happily wandering off to see Minnie holding a newborn with the beautiful features of both parents while Mickey was hard at work making a crib.

The parental paradise was unknowingly interrupted as Mickey kept going with, “And this is Damara.”

Damara – Damara – where had she heard that name before? Minnie slowly moved her eyes over, and her paradise turned to panic. This was indeed the exact same mermaid who, to her words, met someone who could have been Aphrodite. Had she been so caught up in romantic fantasies that this chance meeting never occurred to her? Mickey was saying something or other about how Damara liked to play pranks on mortals, despite Mickey's lectures about not doing that. But Minnie and Damara were looking right at each other, with Damara blinking at Minnie, clearly recalling a moment.

Sweat broke out on Minnie's face – she hadn't told this one her original name, right? She was so overcome with worry that her mind went blank and she couldn't remember anything. As Damara tilted her head, Minnie silently hoped that this particular mermaid didn't have a good memory and was as smart as a wad of seaweed. Mickey was oblivious to Minnie's panic attack, too focused on the mermaid in front of him. “Hey now, be polite! Don't just stare, say somethin'. Be nice.”

So Damara spoke, tugging on the ends of Minnie's dress. “Have we met somewhere before?”

“Ummm,” Minnie drew out the word, adding more “m”s in a hard attempt at thinking. So far she had never technically lied to Mickey, she had only left out certain details. But if she actually denied Damara's words, that would be a lie for real, and Minnie would be a terrible person for it. If she could help it, she would not lie to her dear Mickey or his precious family. “Yes. We have.” She winced as she spoke, her chest feeling tight.

“I knew it!” Damara clapped in victory, her head bouncing back left and right. “I knew it, I knew it! She's the one I was telling you about when I broke that “No Aphrodrite” rule!”

“You broke it again!” said a mermaid with skin as dark as night.

“I did not! I'm not talking about Aphrodite, I'm talking about a girl that could be as pretty as Aphrodite!  If I was breaking the rule, I'd be saying she was Aphrodite, but she's not Aphrodite, she's Minnie, Mickey said so! I'm not breaking the rule, so I'm a good girl!”

Mickey ran a tired hand down his face. “I'm thinkin' I need to reword that rule a little. Did you have a point somewhere in there?”

This required another twenty seconds of deep thought for Damara who ultimately concluded, “Your girlfriend is very pretty.”

Just like that, Mickey and Minnie switched moods. Minnie was calm and relaxed, whereas Mickey broke into alarm. “G-G-Girlfriend?! What are you – you – you girls are as dumb as rocks, is what you are! New rule! No saying that word! And no embarrassing me!” He swiftly turned to Minnie who was smiling adorably from ear to ear. “Well – I – you said – you said not to make excuses or apologize, so, so, so I won't! But! Y'know! That's...they don't know what they're sayin'.”

“I am a girl,” Minnie pointed out, scooting in half an inch closer to Mickey's side. “And I am your friend. So, in a way, she's right.” She knew exactly what would come next, and enjoyed every second of it, even waving her finger about like a conductor's baton.

“I'm right, I'm right, I'm a smart girl!”

“Wait! This means I'm Mickey's girlfriend too!”

“We're all Mickey's girlfriends! Yay!”

Mickey wondered if his cheeks would ever return to their normal color again, as right now he couldn't stop blushing. He tried to muster up a glare at Minnie, but it was difficult. “You're enjoyin' this way too much.”

“I had to pay you back after you sent your tickle army after me.”

“Yeah, yeah, missy. You keep that up and I'll push you back in there.”

Minnie had no doubt that he would, and it all made her giggle the absurdness of everything hitting her at once. It was a contagious noise, and so to no great shock, Mickey also found himself laughing, needing to hold his stomach as it came harder and harder. Even though the mermaids and nereids didn't really get the joke, they laughed as well before they decided on more games and more questions to pester the pretty one with.

Later that day, Mickey would find another surprise – in that he spent much more time with the girls than usual that day. He wondered if Minnie's presence had anything to do with that. On a small level he was annoyed, as it meant he was now behind on all of his work, even if only by a few hours. Yet he couldn't say he'd change that day if he could. Having a second like-minded head in there made dealing with the girls a little easier. It was, dare say it, fun.

Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if it happened again, though he still believed it was a hard “if”. Perhaps some conversations were as entertaining, if not more, than working on his projects. Perhaps Minnie was the type to change things even without meaning to. Who knew? She was a mystery, but he was in no hurry to solve it. Like the mystery of why she looked at him so strangely – it was a way he'd never seen before, and so couldn't put a word to it. Maybe it was the way the rest of the world looked at each other.

Girlfriend, however – he ought to push Damara's bracelets back a week for that stupid remark. Why, he bet she didn't even know what the word meant, and was just trying it out. Mickey knew that word was not meant for him, and to dare imply anything about that in regards to Minnie was downright insulting to her. They were friends. Unusual friends, yes, but she was unusual. Once she had her gift, she'd leave, and things would go back to normal. Whatever normal meant.

So when he laid in bed that night, he told himself he didn't care if Minnie had a boyfriend (even though he definitely did) and that he didn't care if Minnie had a thousand boyfriends (even though he doubtlessly did) and that he'd never want her as a girlfriend in a million years (even though after that popped into his head, he couldn't go back to sleep.)

But with every shift he made under the sheets, he felt his twisted leg move, and with it came the reminder of who he was, what he was, and the future that had been laid out for him the second he was born.

Pretty girls don't become the girlfriends of rejects.

~*~

Hours before Mickey would go to bed and contemplate matters of the heart and how furiously he denied them, Goofy finally went back to his house. He hadn't eaten all day, and now his stomach matched how bad his head felt. He stood in front of his dilapidated house, afraid to enter and relive the horror of that morning. Yet he also knew he couldn't stay away forever. With a giant gulp, he walked inside and opened his mouth – but what could he call her? She wasn't Millie.

The girl in question was back in the bedroom, having recently discovered one doesn't eat orange peels. As she rubbed her belly, she looked up as Goofy stepped in, and they watched each other with frightened intensity. The broken necklace was still grasped in Goofy's hand.

Eventually Goofy began the investigation, moving to sit down on the floor across from her. “You were my statue.”

She nodded, rubbing her sore neck. The bleeding had been quick, and the tedious healing process has begun. “Until the other night, yes.” Her voice was quiet, unsure of what would spark his fury again.

“What happened the other night?”

“The goddess Aphrodite came to me.” She placed her hand on her heart as she remembered the moment, rubbing the area as feeling fur and skin was still a new and exciting threshold for her. “She told me I would heal your heart. She laid her hands here, and brought me to life.”

Had Goofy somehow offended the goddess and this was his punishment? Or had the divine woman honestly believed this was a righteous action? Now Goofy was afraid of going back to the temple, lest Aphrodite's next well-meaning intentions completely destroy his sanity. But what to do now? To pray to Aphrodite to send this woman back into her marble form seemed cruel. She had life now, and no one had any right to snuff away – though one could argue no one had any right to give it, either.

After a heavy sigh, Goofy decided, “You aren't Millie. You can't ever be Millie.”

“Then...” She sat on her knees, wanting to get closer but not within striking range. “Who am I?”

Wasn't that the question of the century! Goofy scratched his head, going over the possibilities. It was not within him to toss her out into the street and fend for herself, so, ultimately, she was now his responsibility. Feeding one stomach was already hard, but there must be people worse off than he was. Until this got resolved one way or the other, he would have to do the right thing. It wouldn't be easy, and for a second he wished he was a rotten fellow, someone who could ignore it all and do what made life simple for him. But he wasn't. He never would be.

“I suppose,” Goofy said, “Until you find a name you like better, we can always call you... Agalma.” It was the Greek word for statue. Names weren't his specialty, and he did feel a smidgen silly for simply calling her what she used to be. But what else could he do?

“Agalma,” she repeated, and then said it again, “Agalma!”, letting it work on her tongue, saying it three times more before being satisfied. “It'll take some getting used to. But I don't think it's so bad. I am Agalma.”

“And I am hungry.” Goofy could hear his stomach rumbling, and spotted the orange peel in Agalma's fingers. “You ate my oranges?”

“The insides are very good, but the outsides are awful.” Agalma stuck her tongue out, as if that'd get rid of the taste. “I'm still getting used to having tastebuds. Did you know we have a lot of tastebuds?”

Already there was a glaring difference between Millie and Agalma – Millie would have never eaten someone else's food without permission. If his mind wasn't so rattled he might have found it funny. “Guess I gotta go to the market. I think it's still open.” As he began to stand up, Agalma stood up with him. “And buy another bed, I figure.”

Agalma blinked. “Why can't we share this one?”

“Reasons.” He was in no mood to explain any further than that. “Gunna need to getcha some more clothes too.” This was going to drain every last coin he had. He was going to have to find a larger, more permanent source of income fast. “I'll be back as soon as I'm able.”

The woman dared to step in closer. “Can I come with you?”

Goofy looked at her, breathing quietly through his nostrils. Could she come with him? Should she? The world was a large place, and apparently she had a lot to learn, with only a clumsy fool as a teacher. What a pitiful girl. “Better now than never, I reckon.” He took her by the hand, and began to walk her back out of the house.

For the second time that month, the villagers stopped to stare as Goofy walked with a girl far more lovely looking than they believed he deserved. Once could be fought off as coincidence or circumstance, but twice was deliberate and gave them much to think about it. On the way to the marketplace, Goofy could see Aphrodite's temple, and the glimmer from within told him someone was burning an offering, of which he had only recently learned that is what one does with them, or had lit candles to welcome people inside. As a mortal, did he have any right to ask for a proper explanation from an all knowing and all mighty goddess?

He thought of Millie, of Daisy, of Minnie, and believed they'd make much better goddesses than Aphrodite. Yet he bought another crate of peaches, because in that kind tired soul of his, he saw it as a way to say he forgave her. She had made a mistake, and he knew all about making mistakes.

As for Agalma, despite all the pain and terror she'd experienced in that day, she also wanted to make an offer to Aphrodite. They weren't pleasant experiences, but they were still experiences, and it was better than feeling nothing at all. Even if things hadn't worked out as planned, she was alive, and that was the best gift of all. No life was a mistake, not hers, and not Goofy's.

The night was cold, and they held each other's hands tighter.

#disney #fanfic #love like lava #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #goofy

[welshwoman1988]

Poor Unfortunate Souls: The Witch’s Cave

(A little later than I promised, but I’m still posting! I get points for trying...

...right?)

Anyway, this is part two to @pale-silver-comb’s birthday present, you can find the beginning here:

Part One

Edit: There is now a Third Part as well!

Derek isn’t really sure what he will find when he enters the sea witch’s lair; bones, maybe, or a few odds and ends hidden in darkened corners that made nerves prickle and tails twitch in fear...

What he sees instead are brightly colored baubles and trinkets all covered by sunlight streaming through a hole in the upper reaches of the cave, including some of those Human coins that Derek had compared the sea witch’s eyes to, which makes him blush and quickly look away when he spots them.

Instead he focuses on the fact that the sea witch didn’t go very far into the cave, and that he looks a little surprised to see that Derek had even followed him the first place...

There is a suspended moment of silence as they simply stare at each other, Derek quietly waiting for instructions and the sea witch in shock, before the stillness starts to get to Derek and he’s overcome with the need to break it.

“This isn’t really what I expected...”

His words seem to shake off whatever bit of quiet that had overtaken the sea witch, the other’s lips stretching into a smirk that seemed to say that he wasn’t surprised by Derek’s comment. “And what were you expecting? A cauldron of billowing fluids? Pieces of various Aquids, so dismembered you couldn’t tell if they were mammal, fish or Mer?”

Bristling at the feeling of being mocked, Derek glares at the witch and snaps, “Are you really all that surprised? If you knew who I am before I even opened my mouth, then you must know all the tales they tell of the witch that stalks through the seas with all the foreboding presence of a killer whale on the hunt, stealing into pods and coral reefs, feasting on anything that might cross his path!”

“Oh, is that what they say?” It’s said with a hint of derision, a sneer that hints Derek is simple for believing such stories and his earlier fear has disappeared under a nice armor of frustration.

Even so, he’s tries to keep his voice level when he responds with, “I’m still here, aren’t I? I still followed you into this cave.”

“Yes, you’re still here.” There seems to be a bit of grudging admiration, perhaps even some longing in the sea witch’s voice, but any sympathy that Derek was beginning to feel is immediately killed when he adds, “In the minds of your fellow Mer, that would make you very stupid, or even suicidal.”

“Did you accept my request just to insult me or-” Derek’s demand is cut off by the sea witch throwing his hands up in a placating gesture, his smirk disappearing as a look of genuine concern covers his face, body shifting as if he wants to dive forward and keep Derek from leaving.

“Apologies. I have lived alone so long that I forget sometimes that my humor isn’t as funny as I would like to think, or that other Aquids would be more inclined to swim as far away from me as possible if I keep on so. My father-” The sea witch’s face twitches, before he’s hitching a smile into place and waving his hands as if he could make the tension vanish with a simple slashing motion. “My name is Stiles, by the way. You keep calling me ‘sea witch’ and I forgot you... don’t know my name.”

The sea witch-Stiles’-tone does something funny at the end of that sentence, but Derek isn’t sure how to figure out what’s bothering him so he just ignores it for now. “I am called Derek; while you may know that I am the Crown Prince, I would prefer it if you called me by my given name.”

“Derek. It’s... nice to meet you.”

There it is again, that strange bit of longing in the sea- in Stiles’ voice that has Derek moving away, trying to put some distance between himself and the strange Aquid that makes him want to hold and comfort after only a few waves of meeting him.

Derek is so focused on trying to rationalize these strange feelings that he nearly runs into some of Stiles’ collection, his hands flying out to steady it despite the fact that it barely moved from his accidental brush. It does, however, give him a moment to get his thoughts in order before he takes a closer look at just what exactly it is that he’s holding:

It’s a merman statue, but there’s something... off about it...

It may be the way that the light is streaming into the cave, or the general sense of Other that is part of this whole cave and the sea witch curled almost completely still beside him, but Derek almost immediately releases the statue when he realizes that the oddness he feels is from the sense that the statue almost seems to be breathing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He is almost completely ignored as when he moves away, Stiles immediately moving to where he was floating previously, hands skipping over the statue to check for any damages. “Did I-? I can replace-”

“This isn’t something you can just replace, merman!” The odd, teasing quality of Stiles’ voice is gone now, replaced by an anger as cold as a winter’s wave, and Derek pulls back in surprise, a quick thought of leaving, of just forgetting this whole thing, entering his mind even as Stiles takes a deep breath in an effort to quell his fury.

“This is... this is very important to me,” Stiles whispers, looking into the statue’s eyes as if they could tell him the secrets of the entire sea, and they by all rights could; the statue looks to be as old as Derek’s own mother, but a male with soft eyes, and the body of the merman seems almost... protective, as if the sculptor had captured him in the act of pulling someone to the side...

“I am sorry, I did not mean to offend.” Derek reaches out, to offer comfort or perhaps turn Stiles around so that he may meet the sea witch’s eyes to show his remorse, he doesn’t know. He holds his hand in the waters between them for a moment before dropping it back to his side, certain that his actions at this point would be most unwelcome.

“I am truly sorry.”

A hand halts his retreat, startling him into looking back to see Stiles giving him almost the same look he had given the statue; it was desperation, longing, and guilt all mixd up together and it pulled at Derek the way that the moon pulled the tides.

“No, you have no reason to apologize. I overreacted. You don’t know how important this particular... piece is to me and I should not have acted like you should have realized that. Thank you for your offer of replacement, but by Poseidon’s grace, there is no damage.”

The hand on his arm is tightening and loosening in turns, almost if Stiles is fighting the same urge that had overcome Derek earlier and it causes a terrifying anticipation to hit Derek’s stomach, making it hard to focus on the words slipping past Stiles’ lips...

Stiles, unfortunately, takes his silence as a deterrent and removes his arm, making Derek rub at the warmth that lingers there, This also, seems to upset Stiles as he watches the movement with furrowed brows before turning sharply away again, his shoulders a tense line of disappointment.

“I- I’m not-” Derek curses his inability to be diplomatic, initially happy that there have been talks of Laura ruling instead of him when their mother steps down, but now upset that he cannot find a way to fix this and in his frustration he blurts out the one thing he really should not. “What do you want me to do? I have offended you in some way, how can I make this right? Ask it of me, and I shall give it to you.”

“I ask that you leave.”

Disappointment settles like bad kelp in Derek’s stomach. “O-of course, I shall bother you no longer. I once again apolo-”

“No, that’s not what I-” Stiles shakes his head, but he still does not face Derek as he continues, “I need time to prepare the potion to take us to the Land Above and time to... prepare myself for what we are about to do. It isn’t all a song and dance before the spell is done, you know, it takes a bit more than that.”

Stiles chuckles like he’s remembering an old joke and Derek feels something lift a bit at the evidence that he did not totally ruin his chance for-

For what?

For his chance to see the Land Above?

Or his chance to become... friends with the sea witch?

Derek blinks as the thought takes root in his mind, as a friendship with the creature that seems to be so very wrongly accused of things that are looking less and less likely by the wave fills him with a strange and welcome warmth.

A sudden thought hits him and Derek swallows as he hopes that this does not ruin the tentative truce that seems to have settled between the pair of them. “If you were going to send me away because you needed time for the spell, why ask me into your home in the first place?”

This time, Stiles does turn around and the look that he gives Derek is much like the one that he had when he greeted all of them; blank, but still slightly interested.

“I had to see if you were completely sure about your decision, that you weren’t going to run away at the first sign of trouble, that the ‘terrifying sea witch’ won’t send you racing for your pod as soon as you saw him.”

Derek tilts his chin a bit, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you said that was stupid or suicidal...?”

Stiles answers his smile with a smirk of his own. “Bravery can be considered stupidity, it all depends if what you do ends up being a success or a failure.”

“And this will be a success, then?”

Stiles studies Derek for a few moments, making that strange tension from earlier return as he tries to stay as still as he possibly can under that intense gaze.

“We’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t we?”

With that, Stiles swims into the farthest reaches of his cave, leaving Derek to stare after him in confusion for a few minutes as he tries to come to terms with everything that has happened, before turning and swimming back to where his friends are no doubt still waiting for him.

Neptune knows what he’s going to tell them...

#Fic: Poor Unfortunate Souls #eternalsterek #Mer!Derek #Sea Witch!Stiles #This feels kinda jumpy but it wouldn't be written any other way... #victoria writes #victoria writes fanfiction

[top1course]

3 Simple Steps To Systemize Your Business – Systemize Your Business Ep. 4

I’ll buy tickets sales world’s highest paid consultant, media celebrity multi-millionaire, acclaim tedx speaker International best-selling author, dan Lok, so they can live the life that you want, number one you want to describe your perfect business what do I do, describe your perfect business so let me give you a moment please, i want to describe your perfect business, and this baby for some people in this room the first time you think about this, what would it do I just write down what comes to your mind, what would it do how big would it be do you want to grow a massive company or do you want just you know I want a lifestyle business, or do you want something in between, do you want to get involved with a bunch of businesses or do you want just one big company how big would it be what type of product, Services of projects would it be known for okay right now please, what time, products and services and projects would it be known for, and how would it be unique and different from their competition, i would it be unique and different from the competition, and what kind of customer would you want what, what type of customers do you want what kind of customers bring you Joy bring us a, satisfaction that you want to work with me should have everybody, how much money would it make, how much money would it make how much money wanted to make rubbing you or you, you’ll profit your, take-home pay how much money you want to visit to make for you, and the key here is to be as honest as possible, it’s what you want not what, other people think you should warn not what your friends told you I should want what the what the media so you that you should want, And what do you want, just like I said you know what that’s what I want that’s what I want. I don’t care Gary V all that I’m not interested., how much money would it make and what would it do for you, what do you want to visit to do for you, we deliver Peace of Mind security freedom and fun, what did deliver Peace of Mind security freedom and fun, so what would it do how big would it be what type of sauce should probably go Services a project, what are you doing for how would it be unique and different from the competition what type of customers you want how much money would, we make what would it do for you and what it look up peace of mind security freedom and fun, Let me give you a couple minutes.

Your perfect business, and don’t let your little boys, stop you, i don’t know how you can do that is impossible or you can, can’t do it, not just, don’t listen to the words for second, to say what do you want, if anything is possible what do you want, 30 seconds, okay stop, let me ask you a question how many of you are very clear like Crystal Clear of, what you want your perfect business to look like, okay I’m just saying how many of you like have some ideas but you’re not hundred percent clear, improvement, she has to deal, if you would not clear about what the perfect business looks like what you’re creating, then how do you know when you succeeded, how do you know you’ve arrived, when you are hitting a moving Target, how would you know it’s like if I’m a sculptor I want to sculpt this piece sculpture, But I’ve no idea what that thing is going to look like when it’s done is it going to be a man is it going to be a woman is going to an animal I have no clue, hopefully something would turn out to be good, versus you know what a clear picture this is the picture that I want to create when it’s done this one is going to, look like let me follow that I want to do is hear they’re okay doing that, you got to think of your business as a product as a what, and he will talk about how you create a sellable business cuz I just sold one of my company’s last month’s right, a couple months ago and you don’t feel good chunk of money, because I created that as a way you know what that’s what I want to come look like and you know, When it’s done it’s done, example you know what I want to visit that makes me x amount of money I only wanted to have so many customers I only, i want it only work no more than so many hours a week and I want to have a very competent person to running it that means I need to, can you pay for this person’s you know compensation and salary while you’re creating something, does that make sense you creating something, i can tell you about it I don’t want a camera, and so, just think about that, your perfect business, that is the product when ray kroc’s goes to work the founder McDonald’s when he, buck McDonald from McDonald’s Brothers McDonald was not founded by Ray Kroc, what’s Panda by McDonald’s Brothers, The technicians, making the music flipping the burgers Rey crop with the vision goes in and say, this thing is cool, maybe we can open more shops, how about you let me do it the McDonald’s brought us at sure how about it, straight Talk data and, open up so many so many stores, so many stores, rEI Co-op Gateway Croc day one didn’t go into McDonald and flip burgers, ray Kroc never flip Burgers day one he went to not work in a McDonald’s he went on to work, all McDonald’s, not in, he knows I’m trying to create a franchise prototype I want to create a business that makes, a ton of money that can duplicate Worldwide Day One, how to make a better hamburger, how can we make better french fries, how can we make this that can run by people with very little education very simple training and we can, Started off like that what business is McDonald’s.

Very good real estate, and the franchise is a way for them to make money so they could acquire real estate and have all, all these tenants paying them money, that’s the vehicle one smart guy what can I say, 1 smart guy at the same time people started the same hamburger restaurants, same time as Ray Kroc, joes Burger Michels french fries, and then we mean one shot, for the whole life, because I never took the time to develop the business skills that it takes to make a business work, just keep doing the stuff, think about it, so let’s do it on purpose business the purpose of writers down the purpose of only my business is, please write that down, and then we take a break their business of only my business is just in the blank, The purpose of owning my business is, my business will allow me to for the black, my business will allow me to, so that I can enjoy what, and have the ability to do what, time to get, clear the purpose of all my business is what my business will allow me to do what so I can, can enjoy blank and have the ability to, black, definite purpose business, that’s not a moving Target, and don’t feel that the answer whatever comes to mind your first thought usually that’s the true, duffer’s fought the truth and I’ll tell you think about it you overthink it just, filter at them they not the clothes that may be further from the truth, what time did you want so I can enjoy what I have the ability to do what, if your crystal clear, then you maybe, thinking, maybe a business doesn’t need to be as big as you think it needs to be, To give you what you want, because there’s a big difference between if you want to make, melanie year-on-year versus making 10 million year the price that you have to pay, it’s a big difference, the price of the paint, to get there it’s like do you want to be a good enough swimmer to win local Championship or, i want to win just tournament in a provincial tournament or do you want to be Olympic athlete, the price you have to pay, difference, and most people I want to win the Olympics, yMCA I beat everybody else I’m happy, i don’t need to be like that I just let you know what I make enough that’s that’s cool and I can beat, 270 years old, my business is allowing me to so I can join, the business is just a vehicle I want to get you what you want, Is never meant to consume your life, the challenges most of us are consumed by the business, the consumer-to-business, when is actually just a vehicle to get you from point A to point B, that’s it, that’s why I’m not attached to anyone in my business, except maybe my coaching business, but any one of my companies with the right price I would sell, i’m not attached to it it just a vehicle, i love what I do but I could sell the business, where’s my baby I’m not going to sell this is then I’m going to hang onto in the hole, you always create yes you can send you something else it’s in our DNA, you can help but created, how many of you sometimes when you’re showering or doing some other things out there I’ll throw you thinking about business you can help, So it’s okay.

Trust me you saw the thing with a you find things to start and do, guarantee probably the next day something something else, nature, i’ll see you in 10 minutes what have you and how does it apply to you and how do you, direct action, call me and let me know if any other questions you can also comment below and don’t forget, quick, turn on notification and hit the Bell so every single time video, you will get notified, if you want to watch my other videos make sure you can check them out on the left, and check out all the all the videos that I have we have hundreds of videos on YouTube you want to spend, check it out,

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#People & Blogs #3 Simple Steps To Systemize Your Business #automation #best type of customers #busin

[yolo-hebe]

Kindness is always fashionable...

Kindness is Always Fashionable

I forwarded the very first blog of mine to my friends, ex- colleagues, the business acquaintance and even tweeted the link. Few of them read it, surprisingly few of them came forward for discussion.  My friend called me and said, I read the blog, what is it all about? Why waste your time doing this? You have just started your own brand, focus on it.  I listened to him carefully and completely. I waited for him to finish. Slowly and firmly, I thanked him for the concern and for the love he expressed towards me and business. I continued to say, Dude how did you establish that writing a blog is a waste of time? Why there should be a commercial aspect in everything I do? He replied politely and his reasons were as strong as he is. I said I agree with you, please listen to me. There is a commercial aspect, besides writing a blog helps me to relive or to recollect some of the most beautiful experiences of my life.  But, that was not the content written on your blog, it was about some American he interfered.

Yes, it was about an extraordinary individual who dreamt of living his life fully and what he achieved.  Further, I added, sometimes teaching/sharing is the best way to remember what you have learned and to understand how well you have learned. He was calm so I continued, imagine yourself a painter or sculptor who creates something on his own, you will be as close as possible to the object you create. But to see how it came out you have to go back few steps or pull yourself back and check while creating you have to be as close as possible but to verify you have to move out and check. Even if you want to draw a simple straight line you have to do that.  That is how I see this. I want to write about things I have experienced, learned and this helps to question myself had I learned it properly? Am I following it?  I want to continue to stay in the stream to move ahead.

I didn’t check by asking him, whether he took all the point or not. But he said Good luck!

The same day evening one of my business associate (Mr. Kumar) came to my office, we were discussing the business for a while. Surprisingly he switched the topic towards the end, was it the only guy inspired you? his tone was so intense. I was perplexed at first then understood the words “guy inspired you”, Oh! he is talking about the Blog. I replied No, there are more people. That intense intrigued me for further discussion. So I asked him how was the blog? He replied, yeah OK.  Honestly, I was not surprised by the answer I knew it was below average. But his eyes were sparkling, I understood, he is about to say something. All I have to do is make him understand that he is sharing something with a sensible guy so that he feels comfortable and speaks. Kumar, the intention was to share something good, the content should make me and the readers think about Living means a lot.  Living means not being rich, or being celebrated or successful, these are the byproducts of being honest to their life in every possible way. There is no single way of living and I’m not endorsing any particular way of living. All I’m concerned is, living every possible way, if you know it already, great! be an example. If you don’t know, find out, get inspired and start living your life the way you wanted to live.

After a few minutes, he shared this, There is no simple or great inspiration. Inspiration is a great phenomenon, getting inspired by something or someone makes you realize who you really are. You don’t need a life story to get inspired, even a simple event or gesture will do. One day I went to a restaurant near to my office, I go there every weekend, even now.

Since I go there regularly, I knew the people who are working there, so what I do is, check who is serving and get seated. There was one particular guy, very short, pale and heavy. I never have seen him smile, always shout at the customer if they questioned him, fights with the fellow workers, even shouts at the guy sitting in the cash counter, the kind of guy never spares anyone. So I consciously avoided him every time, in fact, I choose the place where I don’t see him at all.  On that particular day, it was heavily crowded, so I was asked to occupy the table right at the entrance, the pale guy was serving the very next table, same story he was in full form.

Few minutes, a new group occupied that table. The bearer came and asked what they would like to have? in his typical attitude.  There was this guy, a young chap, tall, lean, simply dressed, looked at the bearer and he smiled at him. Bearer did not like it, not even a bit, he raised his voice and asked the same question? I was expecting the visitor to shout at him back. Surprisingly, he looked at the bearer in his eyes smiled again and asked the bearer have you had your food brother? Bearer got furious, you came to the hotel, so eat, don’t waste my time, order what you want to eat. The tall guy said, OK brother. What is today ‘s special item? No specials. Only routines are available and if you order it will take 20 minutes. The tall guy ordered “idly”- easiest to prepare. Next? asked the bearer, let me have the idly first, smiled the visitor. All this time the tall guy smiled and kept the eye contact. Bearer left, in a couple minutes the tall guy moved away. Since there was no drama I started focusing on my plate, I was expecting that these youngsters will get infuriated and fight with the bearer, someone has to teach him a lesson on behavior.

I never noticed when he came back, but the bearer made his presence in his usual manner. The group got what they have ordered, “Idly” came after 20 minutes, but it was not hot or warm. That made them angry. The tall guy asked his friends to be quiet and said he will handle it. He smiled at the server and asked after 20 minutes you give me this brother? I’m not preparing anything, I m just serving the food available in the kitchen, if you want to complain please go ahead and talk to the manager, replied the bearer.

Without saying anything more, the tall guy ordered 4 more plates please, this time it was much better in terms of serving time, again he ordered two more plates, sooner than the previous one, one more plate please, the quickest of all. Anything more, the bearer asked. Give me a bill as hot as the idly you served, brother. Without saying anything the bearer brought the bill and the tall guy asked his friends to leave first, he stood and took his wallet out, firmly looked at the bill and the bearer, bearer was not looking at him, looking at the kitchen. The visitor looked where the bearer was looking at? What sir? Asked the bearer.

With a smile the tall guy said loud and clear, brother! you served us a good food, it would be great if it was slightly warm. But still, it was good. You are the face of the hotel, I don’t know who and how many are preparing the food and who is running this place. We see you. What and how you offer your service tells about the rest of the people involved in this. You are important and thanks for the food and your wonderful service. Have food brother, he added with kind. He took the money out of his wallet said, Please do keep the change and left. Bearer was looking at the guy’s back for a few seconds, must have thought what to say or what is he?. The bearer was shocked, so was i.  

This event made me think a lot, the visitor never changed from his true belief, he stood firm as what he is? he was very clear, he did not buy anything other than the food offered by the bearer. We are all good in deep down, we tend to react to situations rather than expressing ourselves. The visitor never got agitated, he was very sure that he is a lovable and caring person and no one can make him upset.  He was extending his arm to a guy who was disrespecting him, annoying him. Despite all, he praised the bearer for whatever little good he offered. Surely the visitor taught me and the bearer something, never ever change yourself from being good as you are under any circumstances, always smile and express love, never break a relationship, feel and realize your importance…. after this incident I have not seen the bearer shout at anybody. calm and quiet. I’m sure he will start smile and serve.

This guy, whom I have not seen him in my life inspired me so much,  he taught me how to be composed and be strong to my true nature. Now I stopped shouting at the loved ones, stopped shouting at unknown people, instead I express care, give them their time to be good. I'm not changing myself, that inspiration helped to identify myself and taught me to be strong at it.

I looked at him and said, Kumar, I'm going to write this in my blog. This will be my second blog.

Getting inspired is no shame, if someone or something inspires you there is a connection, embrace it. Live it.

Get Inspired : Live

YOLO

                               live

www.yolo-hebe.com

#yolo-hebe

[apsbicepstraining]

16 Situations All 30 -Somethings Should Stop Apologizing For This Year

If you were to ask me for an educated guess on the number of hours I said a mindless Im sorry in 2015, youd better have a technical calculator and some time to kill.

I failed way somewhere around 3 am on New Years Day.( Although odds are, the majority of members of those were justified .)

Apologies are like burps for me.

Unless you stymie my nostrils and cover my opening, they will operate out with foolhardy abandon.

Im sorry, I complain as I mine around for $0.86 in my purse, trying to avoid separating a $10 greenback for Reeses Peanut Butter Cups.

My palms are sweating, my hands are shaking and pennies are running everywhere.

I eventually succumb to handing over the $10, as to not inconvenience the convenience store clerk any longer.

Im sorry, this pitchers out of whole milk. Would you knowledge refilling it? I ask the Starbucks barista timidly, like Ive been hanging out at the self-service counter and guzzling it dry all day.

Excuse me, Im sorry, I squeak, trying to remove myself from the woman who is using the side of my figure to prop up her newspaper.

I’m sorry I wasnt able to morph into a better coffee table for her morning commute.

Apologies are the umm of our generation.

They are half-thought out space-fillers in gossips we dont feel like having.

Whether theyre genuine and justified in an attempt to avoid conflict or a simple way to wrap up a social interaction, Im sure weve all apologized a lot during the past year.

Well, its is high time to put your hoof down.

We shouldnt feel pressured to rush, settle or step aside for people who cant look up from their smartphones.

There will be no more cramming ourselves into the figurative or physicalspaces other parties have created for us.

Hell, if guzzling whole milk from a pitcher goes us going in the morning, makes not apologize for that either.

In any case, heres a register of 16 circumstances 30 -somethings should definitely stop rationalizing for in 2016 TAGEND

1. RSVPing No

You shouldnt have to justify not listening things.

We all have a lot on our plates.

If you find yourself panicked about driving two hours to a newborn rain on your only day off, stay home.

Send a check, going to go to bottom and take care of your own baby.

Ive spent times flowing myself ragged over happenings that suck time out of my weekend and coin out of my wallet.

Then, it ultimately dawned on me: Nothing who matters is deterring score.

It might sound harsh, but if we all stopped regarding each other to so many obligations, perhaps wed actually have time to connect.

2. Your Wardrobe

Your adolescence, teenage years and those scantily-clad eras of college are spent garmenting to impress everyone but yourself.

As you get older, wear what becomes you comfortable.

Dress for your figure. Dress for the occasion.

If you need bikini summaries that come up past your belly button to feel good on vacation, fasten those bloomers on and never look back.

I like to wear jeans, TOMS and solid-colored shirts every day of my life.

Guess what? Im a joyous little hipster.

3. Your Face

One of my favorite positions on this topic comes from Annette Bening in the movie The Women.

A department store salesman tries to sell her a “facelift in a bottle.”

She appears him squarely in the eye and acknowledgments, This is my face. Deal with it.

It seems everyone is peddling some make that promises to cringe your holes, get rid of your wrinkles, medicine your acne, prolong your lashes or vaporize your crow’s feet.

You shouldnt apologize for buying right into it( coughing) or slamming it down.

If you want to constitute your own vanishing cream out of avocados and egg whites, I think you’re squandering a perfectly good frittata.

But let me know if it works.

If youd rather expended $99 on 1 ounce of infomercial attention cream, write me.

I can provide you with the details.

4. Your Social Media Presence

Whether you post 20 times per day or have fallen entirely off the radar, theres no right or wrong way to do this stuff.

If youre paying that much attention to what others are doing on the Internet, youre clearly sitting on the Internet too much yourself.

5. Not Being In The Same Mental Space As Your Friends

Its tough, but we thrive apart.

If theres a shrinking roster of things you have in common with even the oldest of your best friend, its nothing to overcome yourself up over.

Some has the potential to are in conformity with very different places in their lives.

Your 30 s are a transitional age for everyone involved.

People are carving out the lives they picture for themselves, and were all walking around as different sculptors.

Some of us are a little more Donatello, while some are more Michelangelo.

The good substance ever bubbles back to the surface with a true sidekick, even if youre not currently jiving the route you used to.

6. Your Living Quarters

Owning property should no longer be the criteria by which we appraise our success.

You shouldn’t have to go into indebtednes to keep up.

If youre still living with a roommate, sibling, futon or even on a sofa, then who cares?

A living arrangement doesnt “ve got to be” permanent or pristine.

If you boomeranged back to your parents after a unpleasant breakup, so be it.

Its okay to declare youre unsure of your next stair, and youre not going to bank on circumstances until you are.

7. The Fact You Like To Move Dancing

This is more of a metaphor than anything.( Although, I do enjoy shaking my posterior plumage from time to day .)

You shouldnt apologize for wanting to dance out your demons.

Whether its in your living room, at a Zumba class, on a table or in a ballroom, rotate, baby.

8. Your Relationship Status

Theres something to be said for the latitude between RSVPing “no” and your relationship status.

But perhaps, youre simply over some crazy uncle asking why your boyfriend from six years ago isnt there.

Single, separated, divorced, rebuffed, cheating, happy, hopeful, lesbian or straight-shooting, you dont owe Uncle Frank an explanation.

9. Your Diet And Fitness Regimen( Or Lack Thereof)

While I ever prefer an unruly slew of nachos to a kale salad or protein shake, you gotta do what you gotta do.

This is another thing parties seem to like to peddle.

Whether youre training for triathlons, juicing the contents of your kitchen or house Cheeto strongholds in your living room, its your body.

Nobody has to occupy it but you.

Just try not to be too righteous about it.

Im not going to apologize for ingesting a cheeseburger any more than a staunch vegetarian might apologize for posting photographs of flax seeds all day.

10. How You Deduce Your Income

Money constitutes “the worlds” go round.

Whether you have a career youre passionate about, one youre lukewarm about or three part-time responsibilities strung together, its nobodys business how you compensate your bills.

11. The Fact You’re Turning Into Your Parents

This has been an interesting one to watch unfold.

Try as you might, its going to happen.

Theres no expend rationalizing for it because you never accepted a chance.

All those concepts you rolled your eyes at from the back seat of the Dodge station wagon?

Theyre winging right out of your mouth now.

I like to yell, Im not made of money! at my “cat-o-nine-tail” when we’re on our route home from the vet.

12. Being A Slug

If the pizza delivery guy would come instantly to my bedroom window, Id let my bathrobe belt down for him like Rapunzel let down her hair.

Bed pizza is a real and splendid thing.

Dont apologize for being a gross, lazy stinker sometimes.

The only way to reflect brightly in public is by wasting away in your own slothfulness behind closed doors.

13. Your Travel Style

Some beings operate first class and is necessary to stay in five-star hotels.

Others couch surf, hostel hop-skip or carry their adaptations on their backs.

Seeing the world is admirable , no matter how you make it happen.

You know Jay and Bey arent apologizing for yachting all over the French Riviera, so why should I apologize for getting bedbugs in Belize?

14. Your Voice

One of the most common concepts I apologize for is talking too loudly.

Others say sorry for not being heard.

Some people stutter and others have lisps.

There are the raspy express and the plainly high-pitched voices.

You can limit your articulation to a certain degree, but why bother?

Speak up, whisper, bellow, sigh, laugh, sing, squeal and clear your throat.

Just dont whistle. Nothing likes a whistler.

Definitely dont shush anyone; a shush is a personal attack.

15. Your Opinion

Granted, there is a period and a plaza, but how will anyone know how you feel if you dont speak up?

It’s worseif you apologize for doing so.

If done correctly and not for the sake of idle gossip, giving your opinion can become you into an opinion leader.

Thats a pretty good bench to be in.

If you opine in a systematically constructive way, parties will start to look to you for wisdom.

Thats a great route to positively influence the lives of others.

16. Your Truth

Whatever it is and however you find it, dont apologize for it once you do.

Dont apologize for how long it takes you, either.

If youve been hiding your truth in a lie youre finally free from, welcome back.

Step right in. The waters warm.

Its taken a lot of justifications, conformities and f* ckups to get us to this third decade of our existence.

So, lets take what weve learned and bask in that splendid wisdom of the ages.

We sort of earned it.

Grab your chisel( or your pepperoni pizza) and start carving out what works for you.

Stop apologizing for the pebbles that get left behind.

The post 16 Situations All 30 -Somethings Should Stop Apologizing For This Year appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2CLgXXo via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

[apsbicepstraining]

16 Situations All 30 -Somethings Should Stop Apologizing For This Year

If you were to ask me for an educated guess on the number of hours I said a mindless Im sorry in 2015, youd better have a technical calculator and some time to kill.

I failed way somewhere around 3 am on New Years Day.( Although odds are, the majority of members of those were justified .)

Apologies are like burps for me.

Unless you stymie my nostrils and cover my opening, they will operate out with foolhardy abandon.

Im sorry, I complain as I mine around for $0.86 in my purse, trying to avoid separating a $10 greenback for Reeses Peanut Butter Cups.

My palms are sweating, my hands are shaking and pennies are running everywhere.

I eventually succumb to handing over the $10, as to not inconvenience the convenience store clerk any longer.

Im sorry, this pitchers out of whole milk. Would you knowledge refilling it? I ask the Starbucks barista timidly, like Ive been hanging out at the self-service counter and guzzling it dry all day.

Excuse me, Im sorry, I squeak, trying to remove myself from the woman who is using the side of my figure to prop up her newspaper.

I’m sorry I wasnt able to morph into a better coffee table for her morning commute.

Apologies are the umm of our generation.

They are half-thought out space-fillers in gossips we dont feel like having.

Whether theyre genuine and justified in an attempt to avoid conflict or a simple way to wrap up a social interaction, Im sure weve all apologized a lot during the past year.

Well, its is high time to put your hoof down.

We shouldnt feel pressured to rush, settle or step aside for people who cant look up from their smartphones.

There will be no more cramming ourselves into the figurative or physicalspaces other parties have created for us.

Hell, if guzzling whole milk from a pitcher goes us going in the morning, makes not apologize for that either.

In any case, heres a register of 16 circumstances 30 -somethings should definitely stop rationalizing for in 2016 TAGEND

1. RSVPing No

You shouldnt have to justify not listening things.

We all have a lot on our plates.

If you find yourself panicked about driving two hours to a newborn rain on your only day off, stay home.

Send a check, going to go to bottom and take care of your own baby.

Ive spent times flowing myself ragged over happenings that suck time out of my weekend and coin out of my wallet.

Then, it ultimately dawned on me: Nothing who matters is deterring score.

It might sound harsh, but if we all stopped regarding each other to so many obligations, perhaps wed actually have time to connect.

2. Your Wardrobe

Your adolescence, teenage years and those scantily-clad eras of college are spent garmenting to impress everyone but yourself.

As you get older, wear what becomes you comfortable.

Dress for your figure. Dress for the occasion.

If you need bikini summaries that come up past your belly button to feel good on vacation, fasten those bloomers on and never look back.

I like to wear jeans, TOMS and solid-colored shirts every day of my life.

Guess what? Im a joyous little hipster.

3. Your Face

One of my favorite positions on this topic comes from Annette Bening in the movie The Women.

A department store salesman tries to sell her a “facelift in a bottle.”

She appears him squarely in the eye and acknowledgments, This is my face. Deal with it.

It seems everyone is peddling some make that promises to cringe your holes, get rid of your wrinkles, medicine your acne, prolong your lashes or vaporize your crow’s feet.

You shouldnt apologize for buying right into it( coughing) or slamming it down.

If you want to constitute your own vanishing cream out of avocados and egg whites, I think you’re squandering a perfectly good frittata.

But let me know if it works.

If youd rather expended $99 on 1 ounce of infomercial attention cream, write me.

I can provide you with the details.

4. Your Social Media Presence

Whether you post 20 times per day or have fallen entirely off the radar, theres no right or wrong way to do this stuff.

If youre paying that much attention to what others are doing on the Internet, youre clearly sitting on the Internet too much yourself.

5. Not Being In The Same Mental Space As Your Friends

Its tough, but we thrive apart.

If theres a shrinking roster of things you have in common with even the oldest of your best friend, its nothing to overcome yourself up over.

Some has the potential to are in conformity with very different places in their lives.

Your 30 s are a transitional age for everyone involved.

People are carving out the lives they picture for themselves, and were all walking around as different sculptors.

Some of us are a little more Donatello, while some are more Michelangelo.

The good substance ever bubbles back to the surface with a true sidekick, even if youre not currently jiving the route you used to.

6. Your Living Quarters

Owning property should no longer be the criteria by which we appraise our success.

You shouldn’t have to go into indebtednes to keep up.

If youre still living with a roommate, sibling, futon or even on a sofa, then who cares?

A living arrangement doesnt “ve got to be” permanent or pristine.

If you boomeranged back to your parents after a unpleasant breakup, so be it.

Its okay to declare youre unsure of your next stair, and youre not going to bank on circumstances until you are.

7. The Fact You Like To Move Dancing

This is more of a metaphor than anything.( Although, I do enjoy shaking my posterior plumage from time to day .)

You shouldnt apologize for wanting to dance out your demons.

Whether its in your living room, at a Zumba class, on a table or in a ballroom, rotate, baby.

8. Your Relationship Status

Theres something to be said for the latitude between RSVPing “no” and your relationship status.

But perhaps, youre simply over some crazy uncle asking why your boyfriend from six years ago isnt there.

Single, separated, divorced, rebuffed, cheating, happy, hopeful, lesbian or straight-shooting, you dont owe Uncle Frank an explanation.

9. Your Diet And Fitness Regimen( Or Lack Thereof)

While I ever prefer an unruly slew of nachos to a kale salad or protein shake, you gotta do what you gotta do.

This is another thing parties seem to like to peddle.

Whether youre training for triathlons, juicing the contents of your kitchen or house Cheeto strongholds in your living room, its your body.

Nobody has to occupy it but you.

Just try not to be too righteous about it.

Im not going to apologize for ingesting a cheeseburger any more than a staunch vegetarian might apologize for posting photographs of flax seeds all day.

10. How You Deduce Your Income

Money constitutes “the worlds” go round.

Whether you have a career youre passionate about, one youre lukewarm about or three part-time responsibilities strung together, its nobodys business how you compensate your bills.

11. The Fact You’re Turning Into Your Parents

This has been an interesting one to watch unfold.

Try as you might, its going to happen.

Theres no expend rationalizing for it because you never accepted a chance.

All those concepts you rolled your eyes at from the back seat of the Dodge station wagon?

Theyre winging right out of your mouth now.

I like to yell, Im not made of money! at my “cat-o-nine-tail” when we’re on our route home from the vet.

12. Being A Slug

If the pizza delivery guy would come instantly to my bedroom window, Id let my bathrobe belt down for him like Rapunzel let down her hair.

Bed pizza is a real and splendid thing.

Dont apologize for being a gross, lazy stinker sometimes.

The only way to reflect brightly in public is by wasting away in your own slothfulness behind closed doors.

13. Your Travel Style

Some beings operate first class and is necessary to stay in five-star hotels.

Others couch surf, hostel hop-skip or carry their adaptations on their backs.

Seeing the world is admirable , no matter how you make it happen.

You know Jay and Bey arent apologizing for yachting all over the French Riviera, so why should I apologize for getting bedbugs in Belize?

14. Your Voice

One of the most common concepts I apologize for is talking too loudly.

Others say sorry for not being heard.

Some people stutter and others have lisps.

There are the raspy express and the plainly high-pitched voices.

You can limit your articulation to a certain degree, but why bother?

Speak up, whisper, bellow, sigh, laugh, sing, squeal and clear your throat.

Just dont whistle. Nothing likes a whistler.

Definitely dont shush anyone; a shush is a personal attack.

15. Your Opinion

Granted, there is a period and a plaza, but how will anyone know how you feel if you dont speak up?

It’s worseif you apologize for doing so.

If done correctly and not for the sake of idle gossip, giving your opinion can become you into an opinion leader.

Thats a pretty good bench to be in.

If you opine in a systematically constructive way, parties will start to look to you for wisdom.

Thats a great route to positively influence the lives of others.

16. Your Truth

Whatever it is and however you find it, dont apologize for it once you do.

Dont apologize for how long it takes you, either.

If youve been hiding your truth in a lie youre finally free from, welcome back.

Step right in. The waters warm.

Its taken a lot of justifications, conformities and f* ckups to get us to this third decade of our existence.

So, lets take what weve learned and bask in that splendid wisdom of the ages.

We sort of earned it.

Grab your chisel( or your pepperoni pizza) and start carving out what works for you.

Stop apologizing for the pebbles that get left behind.

The post 16 Situations All 30 -Somethings Should Stop Apologizing For This Year appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2CLgXXo via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

[apsbicepstraining]

16 Situations All 30 -Somethings Should Stop Apologizing For This Year

If you were to ask me for an educated guess on the number of hours I said a mindless Im sorry in 2015, youd better have a technical calculator and some time to kill.

I failed way somewhere around 3 am on New Years Day.( Although odds are, the majority of members of those were justified .)

Apologies are like burps for me.

Unless you stymie my nostrils and cover my opening, they will operate out with foolhardy abandon.

Im sorry, I complain as I mine around for $0.86 in my purse, trying to avoid separating a $10 greenback for Reeses Peanut Butter Cups.

My palms are sweating, my hands are shaking and pennies are running everywhere.

I eventually succumb to handing over the $10, as to not inconvenience the convenience store clerk any longer.

Im sorry, this pitchers out of whole milk. Would you knowledge refilling it? I ask the Starbucks barista timidly, like Ive been hanging out at the self-service counter and guzzling it dry all day.

Excuse me, Im sorry, I squeak, trying to remove myself from the woman who is using the side of my figure to prop up her newspaper.

I’m sorry I wasnt able to morph into a better coffee table for her morning commute.

Apologies are the umm of our generation.

They are half-thought out space-fillers in gossips we dont feel like having.

Whether theyre genuine and justified in an attempt to avoid conflict or a simple way to wrap up a social interaction, Im sure weve all apologized a lot during the past year.

Well, its is high time to put your hoof down.

We shouldnt feel pressured to rush, settle or step aside for people who cant look up from their smartphones.

There will be no more cramming ourselves into the figurative or physicalspaces other parties have created for us.

Hell, if guzzling whole milk from a pitcher goes us going in the morning, makes not apologize for that either.

In any case, heres a register of 16 circumstances 30 -somethings should definitely stop rationalizing for in 2016 TAGEND

1. RSVPing No

You shouldnt have to justify not listening things.

We all have a lot on our plates.

If you find yourself panicked about driving two hours to a newborn rain on your only day off, stay home.

Send a check, going to go to bottom and take care of your own baby.

Ive spent times flowing myself ragged over happenings that suck time out of my weekend and coin out of my wallet.

Then, it ultimately dawned on me: Nothing who matters is deterring score.

It might sound harsh, but if we all stopped regarding each other to so many obligations, perhaps wed actually have time to connect.

2. Your Wardrobe

Your adolescence, teenage years and those scantily-clad eras of college are spent garmenting to impress everyone but yourself.

As you get older, wear what becomes you comfortable.

Dress for your figure. Dress for the occasion.

If you need bikini summaries that come up past your belly button to feel good on vacation, fasten those bloomers on and never look back.

I like to wear jeans, TOMS and solid-colored shirts every day of my life.

Guess what? Im a joyous little hipster.

3. Your Face

One of my favorite positions on this topic comes from Annette Bening in the movie The Women.

A department store salesman tries to sell her a “facelift in a bottle.”

She appears him squarely in the eye and acknowledgments, This is my face. Deal with it.

It seems everyone is peddling some make that promises to cringe your holes, get rid of your wrinkles, medicine your acne, prolong your lashes or vaporize your crow’s feet.

You shouldnt apologize for buying right into it( coughing) or slamming it down.

If you want to constitute your own vanishing cream out of avocados and egg whites, I think you’re squandering a perfectly good frittata.

But let me know if it works.

If youd rather expended $99 on 1 ounce of infomercial attention cream, write me.

I can provide you with the details.

4. Your Social Media Presence

Whether you post 20 times per day or have fallen entirely off the radar, theres no right or wrong way to do this stuff.

If youre paying that much attention to what others are doing on the Internet, youre clearly sitting on the Internet too much yourself.

5. Not Being In The Same Mental Space As Your Friends

Its tough, but we thrive apart.

If theres a shrinking roster of things you have in common with even the oldest of your best friend, its nothing to overcome yourself up over.

Some has the potential to are in conformity with very different places in their lives.

Your 30 s are a transitional age for everyone involved.

People are carving out the lives they picture for themselves, and were all walking around as different sculptors.

Some of us are a little more Donatello, while some are more Michelangelo.

The good substance ever bubbles back to the surface with a true sidekick, even if youre not currently jiving the route you used to.

6. Your Living Quarters

Owning property should no longer be the criteria by which we appraise our success.

You shouldn’t have to go into indebtednes to keep up.

If youre still living with a roommate, sibling, futon or even on a sofa, then who cares?

A living arrangement doesnt “ve got to be” permanent or pristine.

If you boomeranged back to your parents after a unpleasant breakup, so be it.

Its okay to declare youre unsure of your next stair, and youre not going to bank on circumstances until you are.

7. The Fact You Like To Move Dancing

This is more of a metaphor than anything.( Although, I do enjoy shaking my posterior plumage from time to day .)

You shouldnt apologize for wanting to dance out your demons.

Whether its in your living room, at a Zumba class, on a table or in a ballroom, rotate, baby.

8. Your Relationship Status

Theres something to be said for the latitude between RSVPing “no” and your relationship status.

But perhaps, youre simply over some crazy uncle asking why your boyfriend from six years ago isnt there.

Single, separated, divorced, rebuffed, cheating, happy, hopeful, lesbian or straight-shooting, you dont owe Uncle Frank an explanation.

9. Your Diet And Fitness Regimen( Or Lack Thereof)

While I ever prefer an unruly slew of nachos to a kale salad or protein shake, you gotta do what you gotta do.

This is another thing parties seem to like to peddle.

Whether youre training for triathlons, juicing the contents of your kitchen or house Cheeto strongholds in your living room, its your body.

Nobody has to occupy it but you.

Just try not to be too righteous about it.

Im not going to apologize for ingesting a cheeseburger any more than a staunch vegetarian might apologize for posting photographs of flax seeds all day.

10. How You Deduce Your Income

Money constitutes “the worlds” go round.

Whether you have a career youre passionate about, one youre lukewarm about or three part-time responsibilities strung together, its nobodys business how you compensate your bills.

11. The Fact You’re Turning Into Your Parents

This has been an interesting one to watch unfold.

Try as you might, its going to happen.

Theres no expend rationalizing for it because you never accepted a chance.

All those concepts you rolled your eyes at from the back seat of the Dodge station wagon?

Theyre winging right out of your mouth now.

I like to yell, Im not made of money! at my “cat-o-nine-tail” when we’re on our route home from the vet.

12. Being A Slug

If the pizza delivery guy would come instantly to my bedroom window, Id let my bathrobe belt down for him like Rapunzel let down her hair.

Bed pizza is a real and splendid thing.

Dont apologize for being a gross, lazy stinker sometimes.

The only way to reflect brightly in public is by wasting away in your own slothfulness behind closed doors.

13. Your Travel Style

Some beings operate first class and is necessary to stay in five-star hotels.

Others couch surf, hostel hop-skip or carry their adaptations on their backs.

Seeing the world is admirable , no matter how you make it happen.

You know Jay and Bey arent apologizing for yachting all over the French Riviera, so why should I apologize for getting bedbugs in Belize?

14. Your Voice

One of the most common concepts I apologize for is talking too loudly.

Others say sorry for not being heard.

Some people stutter and others have lisps.

There are the raspy express and the plainly high-pitched voices.

You can limit your articulation to a certain degree, but why bother?

Speak up, whisper, bellow, sigh, laugh, sing, squeal and clear your throat.

Just dont whistle. Nothing likes a whistler.

Definitely dont shush anyone; a shush is a personal attack.

15. Your Opinion

Granted, there is a period and a plaza, but how will anyone know how you feel if you dont speak up?

It’s worseif you apologize for doing so.

If done correctly and not for the sake of idle gossip, giving your opinion can become you into an opinion leader.

Thats a pretty good bench to be in.

If you opine in a systematically constructive way, parties will start to look to you for wisdom.

Thats a great route to positively influence the lives of others.

16. Your Truth

Whatever it is and however you find it, dont apologize for it once you do.

Dont apologize for how long it takes you, either.

If youve been hiding your truth in a lie youre finally free from, welcome back.

Step right in. The waters warm.

Its taken a lot of justifications, conformities and f* ckups to get us to this third decade of our existence.

So, lets take what weve learned and bask in that splendid wisdom of the ages.

We sort of earned it.

Grab your chisel( or your pepperoni pizza) and start carving out what works for you.

Stop apologizing for the pebbles that get left behind.

The post 16 Situations All 30 -Somethings Should Stop Apologizing For This Year appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2CLgXXo via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress