#while knowing she was taking them on a physically exhaustive 15 hour hike instead

[besnouted]

more people need to stop caring about makeup influencers having false advertising scandals or whatever stupid garbage drama of the week that doesnt matter and pay attention to the shit that goes down with mlm/network marketing influencers instead

#the fact that these people fly under the radar is insane to me #one of the most influential personalities in this sphere just took a group of people #on what she told them was a vacation #told them to prepare for a mild 2 hour hike #while knowing she was taking them on a physically exhaustive 15 hour hike instead #in rural (?) columbia #and she recounts this story while jogging in place and laughing the entire time

[pandawriterstuff]

Pinehallow Summary & Character List

This is my main WIP, if I'm complaining about characters doing whatever they want, this is them.

Pinehallow Summary-Monty, an eleven year old boy who has spent most of his life traveling from place to place with his in-demand lawyer mother, Irene, is sent to live at his uncle's horse ranch because she thinks he needs roots. Used to nearly everyone but his mother not being around long enough to get to know, Monty is more than a bit uncertain about this. But in scrambling to find his place in a town different to anything he's ever known, he finds friends, both human and animal, makes discoveries, and even manages to foil a plot against Pinehallow Ranch itself.

Character List

Monty (Montgomery) Cade Waller- Main character, 11, white. Monty is curious, bright, and more than a little awkward. He has a tendency to state the obvious, which can be endearing or annoying depending on your perspective. Big vocabulary and grown-up way of speaking because he’s spent more time around grown-ups than other kids. He’s quietly stubborn, particularly when it comes to being told he’s wrong when he knows he’s right. Insecure about socializing and friendships because of constant moving and traveling. Can’t hold a grudge for the life of him, even when he likely should. He likes bugs, birds and turtles, would rather read nonfiction than a story. Fills lonely afternoons with sketching, nature sketching on the ranch.

Irene Waller- Monty’s mother, 36, white. Irene is a powerful corporate lawyer, either full of energy or exhausted, never in between. She loves using words to sway minds and deciphering documents to find exactly what the opposition doesn’t want her to find. Sometimes Irene wishes she was using her skills in more meaningful ways, but also really likes the money, the traveling, and the competition. Has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of show tunes from musicals. She has a hard time letting people get close. Would stab someone for her baby, but knows it’s better to teach him to stab for himself. Only partially joking. Dolly Parton is her hero, and as much as she loves her music, it’s Dolly the business woman and Dolly the philanthropist that she strives to emulate.

Keith Waller- Monty’s uncle, 34, white. Horse Rancher. Keith loves working hard and getting dirty, and if he’s not exhausted at the end of the day he’ll be looking for something else to push him there. Otherwise he gets antsy. Loves animals and absolutely will not tolerate anyone mistreating any of the animals on his ranch-ordinarily he’s very careful of his size and strength, in that situation, all bets are off. Times that by about ten for any of the ‘barn rats’ that help around the ranch for riding lessons/time. Loves romantic comedies and telanovas and doesn’t care who knows it. Keith doesn’t read a lot, it never came easy to him, but if he’s taking a long trip he’ll always check an audio book or two out of the library instead of just relying on the radio.

Juniper - Keith’s goddaughter, 15, white. She has a calm, confident personality with a smile for most everyone she meets. If she doesn’t have a smile for you and it isn’t because her head is in the clouds over a girl, you’ve probably earned her scorn and will be ignored as much as possible. Juniper raises rabbits and it’s taught her patience, and a lot about unfairness when a kit doesn’t make it. She helps out with riding lessons at the ranch in exchange for riding time of her own, and has become a fixture, spending more time there than she does at home, and when she can get away with it, school. Loves sunflowers and her sunflower comforter is probably her most prized possession.

Nell - Caretaker/cook for the ranch house(would cooking lunch for the workers still be a thing on a modern ranch?). 38, white(?). Not about to put up with nonsense. Will make you cookies if she doesn’t have to put up with nonsense. Please. At one point she wanted to be a chef and has a year of culinary school under her belt, but quickly decided the super fast paced and competitive environment wasn’t for her. Anything that was making her hate one of her favorite things that fast could not be good for a person. She intends to live a long, long life and that kind of stress can just walk right out of the door. Loves to go on long walks, often into the hills (BLM land) behind the ranch. (maybe she was taught/took a class on foraging, and teaches Monty to find wild onions and stuff? But this would mean *I* have to learn about foraging in Idaho.) This leads to a contented, if often silent, companionship between her and Monty, who desperately wants to explore/record/sketch everything about the natural world of his new home, particularly the parts that are off limits to him without an adult along.

Ray- Family Friend/Co-Owner of R & M General (designed to feel vintage, but shiny. Bit of a tourist stop now, they decided to lean into it.), 50, Black. He uses his background in chemistry to make amazing looking candies and chocolates, using that to deal with a time he used it in less pleasant ways when he was in the military. He never expected anybody outside of his small town, or maybe the folks at the county fair to make so much fuss over them. This might embarrass him, if he weren’t so delighted. A cheerful man with a dreamer’s heart, a magazine once referred to him as a small town Willy Wonka. He dotes on his wife, often making and gifting her small surprises. An amputee in honor of my Grandpa (missing left leg at the knee, possibly missing one arm as well, but I’m not sure how that would affect candy making.). Has certain parts of his past he just doesn’t talk about.

Mavis- Co-Owner of ____ with Ray, 48, Black. Fierce and kind in equal measures, Mavis believes in protecting what’s hers, and as far as she’s concerned the entire town of (oh my god, it needs a name) is included in that. Mavis is very selective about the battles she fights, but when she chooses one she throws herself in whole-heartedly. On several committees around town, she’d be on more, but then she wouldn’t have enough time to really get into the work of the ones she loves. She knits in her limited free time, often while listening to the news, but sometimes opera. Has started knitting stuffies in the shapes of the more unusual candies Ray makes, it’s silly, but fun, and tourists and the local kids love it. Still head over heels for Ray, even though his often dreaming about things for ages instead of just doing them is also still baffling to her.

Leanna - Juniper’s sort-of girlfriend, 15, Vietnamese. Quiet, a little cynical, but very empathetic. She avoids the news because it’s that or be mad and want to cry all the time-until she hears about something she can’t not research, and goes on a 24 hour google search and learns far more than is probably good for her about a species going extinct due to logging in prohibited areas, or genocide being covered up by claims of violent uprisings. She loves manga and comics. Leanna sometimes tries for a cottagecore* type aesthetic, but mostly thinks it's too much work. She’s starting to worry about what she’s going to do with her future, and people telling her that she’s only 15 and doesn’t have to worry about it yet is NOT HELPING.

*even though cottagecore isn’t a thing in the early-mid 2000s this is maybe/vaguely set in. Shh, let me have this. Anne of Green Gablesesque maybe?

Winnie - Leanna’s mom, 45, Vietnamese. Widow? A little ditzy, but a lot loving. Everyone in town is convinced she’s the stoner type of hippy, but no one minds as she’s someone who truly wants to know how you’re doing when she asks and strangely almost always has very spot on advice. She’s rarely on time anywhere, but that’s because she’ll have stopped to talk, and often to help, whoever she’s run into. Leanna and her bicker over this when she’s late picking her up. Always wears bright colors. Loves Agatha Christie books. Calls everyone, even people 50 years older than her, hon.

Logan - Juniper’s stepdad, 40, white. Kind of a jerk, but most of the jerky things he says are actually jokes that fall flat or have simply gotten old. Tries really hard, like *really* hard, but has a tendency to get annoyed if people don’t appreciate his efforts right away-more in his personal life than professional, possibly because of his profession. A contractor, hard worker, loyal, has worked for the same company since he was twenty even though they don’t often treat him right. Sometimes tries to buy people’s affections. Wants to have better communication with Juniper, but it’s gotten really hard the last few years and he’s never quite sure why.

Candice - Juniper’s Mom, 39, white, works at a nursery that sells seedlings and baby fruit trees, has a cheerful, calm personality, but a lot softer and more lowkey than Juniper’s version. Very house proud, but has a ‘maximalist’ approach to decorating-everything is in its place, but there are places for lots of things. Loves spending time outdoors, but would rather spend it tending her garden than hiking or riding, preferably with a cup of tea by her side. On the weekends, a fruity beer or wine instead. Wants to go on one of those train rides where you get to drink wine, eat canapes and try to solve a mystery, thinks Winnie might be a good candidate for someone to go with her.

Ura - a ‘barn rat’, 12 and a half, white(maybe a Czech immigrant? 2nd generation?) . A cheerful, rough and tumble boy who is always climbing things, and often being told to stop when he gets too high for other people's comfort. Ura is fearless when it comes to physical feats, but has a fear of ‘slimy’ things like worms and frogs. He has a thick layer of pudge and a big appetite, but is athletic and strong enough that anyone bullying him over it would be doing it at their own peril. Not that he’s the type to start fights, or even finish them most of the time. Doesn’t feel he quite fits in with his family, who are all more serious, reserved people. Redwood is his favorite of the horses, and Keith has all but given up on telling him that sitting on the floor of Red’s stall to talk to the horse isn’t exactly safe.

Elliot - Ray and Mavis’s son, Black, 19 and a college student-maybe/probably at U of I. Lives on campus, but comes home at least a couple weekends a month. Has an older car that he and Ray fixed up together, that is his pride and joy. Quiet, with an irreverent sense of humor that he unleashes somewhat at random. Interested in robotics, engines and mechanics and generally has some project he’s working on, a piece of which may or may not be in his pocket. Often has oil, grease, or ink on his hands, either from working on or designing a new project. A bit of an overachiever, he can spread himself thin trying to live up to all his responsibilities at once. He’s best friends with Randy, a friendship his parents want to disapprove of, because the few times Elliot’s gotten into trouble not only was Randy there, but 99% of the time whatever it was is Randy’s idea, but never quite manage too.

Randy - Handyman at the ranch, mixed race Hispanic and white, 21. Technically head handyman, because the old head retired six months ago, and is a little young/inexperienced for the job, but he’s not the type to back away from a challenge and has risen to the occasion beautifully. Loves rock and metal music, and spends a lot of his free weekends at concerts, the ones crammed into little venues and bars where people are practically on top of each other and the beat is so loud and solid it throbs through you, connecting you to everyone even before you hit the mosh pit, are his preference. He’s been working at the ranch since he was 16, and feels like he has a claim on it, not afraid to speak up if he thinks a decision Keith is making isn’t right or that he isn’t taking something important into consideration. Can be a bit wild when he’s not being the responsible one, definitely doesn’t always think before he acts.

Alma - Local artist/worker at R & M’s, Hispanic, 25. Alma is a painter and poet, a confident young woman who’s figured out that half of surviving as an artist is being your own agent/a salesperson as well, and in addition to several shelves at the R & M that hold postcard prints of many of her pieces, both the coffee shop and cafe have some of her larger paintings displayed, and she always has a booth at the Saturday market, though the majority of her sales come from her website. Alma is cheerful, and likes to tease, and growing up the middle child of four brothers, is very able to hold her own in verbal sparring. She’s close with her family, still living with her parents, and while at first her father was dismayed at her choice of career, he now hands out her business card to basically everyone he talks to.

Miriam - Nell’s Mom, white, 71, a little deaf, speaks loudly, partially because of the deafness, partially because she spent too long letting other people push her around and when she hit about 50 decided she was going to be the one talking over people now. She’s earned it. Age has made her more delicate than she likes, bruising and scraping easily, but she’s determined to do most things for herself. Those that are beyond her she has no problem loudly ordering someone else to take care of. Volunteers a lot, often fosters kittens for the local animal shelter. Used to chain smoke, quit when Nell was a teenager because she kept leaving pictures of diseased lungs everywhere. Still uses the candy ones as a substitute.

Places

Unnamed Town- Somewhere in Latah County, Idaho, where there is not already a town in the way. Around 200 years old and has grown and shrunk and grown again, and currently has a population of about 12,000. Having grown out from a traditional mainstreet, _______ no longer has the western style boardwalk seen in old pictures, but it does have a large cluster of local businesses and ‘hot spots’ still along that old main street, a coffee shop, a diner, a combination bookshop and independent library, a hardware store, a bar, a few places I haven’t thought of yet, and of course R & M General. There is a historical barn half a mile or so away from mainstreet that has been converted into a theater/meeting hall/dance hall, and a community center was added onto it in the early 90’s. During the summer there is a farmer’s market on the property every Saturday. The elementary school and junior high are all on one property, several miles out of town, because the majority of families live on farms, ranches or small rural properties rather than in one of the neighborhood clusters in the town itself. The junior high is 7th, 8th and 9th graders, in a newer two story building, and the elementary school is divided into lower and upper elementary with the bracket shaped building basically being cut in half, K-3 on one side and 4-6 on the other. The high school is outside of town on the other side by several miles, and actually serves kids from another town(s) as well. There is also a trailer park with about forty units, not exactly sure where it is yet, but Miriam(Nell’s Mom) lives there. There is also an animal shelter, a vet’s office, a cemetery, and a couple churches, and I’m sure more things to come.

R & M General (working title?)- Ray and Mavis’s store, a general store with a candy focused twist. A vintage Pepsi sign, neon still bright, and a charming green glass juke-box filled with hits from the 1940’s onward grace the front porch of the R & M, along with a long bench that locals are encouraged to use for a spell or to listen to a couple songs, provided they can behave themselves (teenagers arguing over who their favorite member of the rat pack is might be amusing, considering they were already ‘mom and dad’, or at least older brother and sister, music by the time Mavis and Ray were teenagers, but when they get loud it also gets annoying.). The store itself still has the original wooden counter up front and built-in shelves along the walls, but all refinished and polished to a high shine. A mixture of display types going down the middle of the store, barrels and baskets filled with skeins of colorful yarn and cloth or Mavis’s knitted stuffies(and during winter sometimes socks and mittens), other sewing and craft supplies, display racks with local arts, postcards and carvings, sometimes wind up toys made by Elliot, and of course many, many displays of candies and chocolates. They also have a lot of dry goods, and some of the simpler candy types have little instruction booklets and the ingredients it takes to try out making them yourself stocked in the same display, drink coolers, and sometimes have local produce available. Basically, they have a bit of everything, except for building equipment/home repair supplies, and that’s because of the hardware store across the street.

Pinehallow Ranch-A sprawling 100 acre ranch in Latah County, Idaho where the Waller family has been doing something or other with horses for four generations now. Originally it was a horse breeding ranch, but Keith and Irene’s grandfather felt the money was in training horses, and offered boarding as well, and Keith has continued to build that up, offering lessons for a variety of styles, ages, and skill levels. Butting up against BLM land that allows additional grazing and trail riding, the ranch has four pastures, a large corral, a medium sized indoor arena and two horse barns, one for boarded horses and one for the ranch's own stock, and an equipment barn, an old bunkhouse that is mostly used to store feed-though Randy has slept there when in between places, mostly unbeknownst to Keith-and some smaller equipment sheds, placed where they’re needed. The main house is an L-shaped ranch house with a porch that goes around the entire long front of the house with a large herb/kitchen and rock garden arranged around that. There are treed pockets scattered here and there, left alone as the rest of the ranch was developed, but the creek Monty and Juniper sometimes hang out at is on BLM land, as is most of the forested area around the ranch.

Pinehallow Taglist @sleepysera @enchanted-lightning-aes @odysseywritings @thegreatobsesso @writing-is-a-martial-art and @hiitsolivia If anyone else wants to be added just interact with the post :) (My more advanced tumblr knowledge has led me to believe this is better than asking people to reblog/comment to be added, but if I'm wrong just let me know.)

#character list #oc list #someday I'll do a proper series introduction #and an introduction for me #but today is not that day #pinehallow ranch #original writing #I tend to build my world around the characters #backwards I know

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 9 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Gene and Paul have doughnuts in the morning after, and Paul finally checks his answering machine.

            Gene woke up late the next morning to Paul’s head resting against his chest. Paul’s right hand was dipped underneath his boxers again in his sleep—Gene bit back a rueful grin at that, getting up out of bed as carefully as possible, trying not to wake him up. He got dressed—on top of the CBGB attire, he’d bought a regular pair of jeans and a collared shirt at the boutique, among a few other things—and left the room, digging around the main area of Paul’s house until he found the phone book. From there, he dialed a bakery. They didn’t deliver, of course—but they would for Gene Simmons.

            Less than half an hour later, he returned to Paul’s bedroom with a white paper box and a glass of milk.

            “Morning, Paul.”

            Paul grunted a bit, kicking off the covers.

            “Morning.”

            “Don’t get up. I got you breakfast in bed.”

           “You—” Paul started, then shook his head, reaching over the bed for his wallet on the nightstand. His shirt hiked up with the movement, exposing one bare hip and a few small moles. The boxers, as always, were barely hanging on. Might’ve held up a little better if the drawstrings weren’t untied. “Lemme pay you back. You’ve been buying all my meals lately.”

            “Don’t say that until you open the box.”

            Paul did. There were only four regular glazed doughnuts left. Sprinkles and scrapes of chocolate against the corners and bottom of the box were the only intimations of the rest.

            “Gene! Did you—were there twelve in—”

            “Were is past tense.”

            “Gene!”

            “It’ll be fine. We’ll be back on tour in a few weeks. I’ll lose all that weight jumping around onstage.”

            “If you don’t gain even more,” Paul grumbled, eying Gene up and down, shaking his head. He hadn’t gotten out of bed, as requested. He reached for the box and set it on his lap, taking a doughnut and carefully leaning over the open box as he ate it, to keep any bits of sugar off the covers. Gene climbed into bed beside him. “You… you really think we’ll be back?”

            “We’ll be back.”

            “But what about that groupie?”

            Gene reached over for a ninth doughnut. Paul swatted his hand away irritably.

            “Easy. We’ll call up Studio 54 beforehand. Have the owner tell all the doormen to be on the lookout for her, give them her name and description. We tell them to get her straight to the VIP lounge as soon as they see her, because Paul Stanley wants her.”

            “That makes me sound like a creep.” Paul dragged a finger down the inside edge of the box, gathering up the chocolate on his finger. He licked it off absentmindedly. “And then the doorman tries to take her directly to me, only he can’t find me because he’s not looking for—"

            “Okay, how about this, we say you and I want her, but you’re too shy, so if they’ll just take her to me instead, that’ll be perfect.”

            “Too shy, my ass,” Paul snorted. “Gene, you’re the one that won’t do threesomes.”

            “You all act like it’s a badge of shame.”

            “It kind of is.” Paul took the last bite of his doughnut, and reached for another. “You take six or seven up to your room and you only make it with one of them at a time.”

            “Who told you that?”

            “Peter.”

            “How would he know?”

            Paul shrugged.

            “He said you invited him up once. He thought you were trying to, y’know, offer up an orgy, and—”

            Gene could feel his face start to flush.

            “He’s making shit up. I was just trying to hide him from Lydia. He grabbed a girl and spent the whole time in the bathroom’s Jacuzzi.”

            “Uh-huh.” Paul’s eyes were gleaming a little. “Why don’t you, though?”

            “Why don’t I what?”

            “Have orgies. Or threesomes. Whatever.”

            “It’s too impersonal.”

            “Too impersonal? I thought you were just too square.”

            “I’m not square, it’s just a preference,” Gene protested, but Paul didn’t seem like he’d let it go, not unless he turned it on him. “Well, why do you do it?”

            “I don’t. I’ve never done an orgy.”

            “Really?” Gene tilted his head. That jarred feeling was back, the same one he’d gotten when they’d been in the car and Paul had casually thrown out Warhol’s name. The same one he’d gotten when Paul had tried to come on to that bartender. There was just… just such a disturbing disconnect between the sight and sound of the chick sitting next to him on the bed, and the knowledge of who she actually was. A girl that didn’t act or talk much like a girl at all, one on one—well, why the hell should he? Paul’d said it last night; he wasn’t actually a chick. Not in any way but physical. It was like sticking a Mr. Goodbar in a Hershey’s wrapper, except… no, no, that… that wasn’t quite it, either.

            Gene wasn’t really getting rattled. Not over Paul. Not even if he had gotten Paul off the night before. Actually felt him clench up against his hand, felt his whole body just tighten up those seconds before release. Paul’s legs writhing and shifting against the mattress with every movement of his hand, those sharp, high sounds and rambling curses as he got closer and closer—someone, maybe Sweet Connie, maybe Peter, had told him one that Paul screamed through sex like he thought it was a private concert, and he’d never quite believed it, not until he’d heard him.

            Last night shouldn’t have been as good as it was. He hadn’t seen a damn thing in the dark. He hadn’t even gotten off. It ought to have felt like a wasted night, or at the very least, like he’d only done Paul a favor. But—it didn’t. It didn’t feel like that at all. Paul had seemed to fit against him, soft and warm. There was something vulnerable to him, something that had been there as long as Gene had known him and probably longer. Something he’d never been close enough to touch before.

            He'd touched plenty last night, he thought dryly. He didn’t need to kid himself into feeling like he needed more. Paul was still looking at him, dark moppetish eyes fixed on his face. What had Paul even been talking about? Orgies. He’d been sitting on the bed, eating doughnuts, and talking about fucking orgies.

            “I thought you’d like having a bigger audience.”

            “God, no. Orgies are too much pressure, unless you’re high off your ass.” Paul pushed back his hair with his free hand. He was making steadier progress on the doughnuts than Gene had really expected out of him. The second was more than halfway gone already. “But threesomes… threesomes are nice.”

            Gene rolled his eyes. Paul didn’t seem to notice, poking another bite of the doughnut into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he continued. There were bits of icing sugar smeared on his face.

            “Back when me and Peter’d share a room, early on… we’d be lucky to bring one girl back after the show. If we had a threesome, we wouldn’t fight over her.” Paul laughed. “And she’d think she was getting the real rockstar experience. It sounds stupid, but it worked. I kind of think that…”

            “What?”

            “It gets you to let your guard down, I dunno. Or it used to. You never let me talk about it before.”

            “You didn’t have tits before.”

            “Is that it?”

            Instead of answering, Gene tried again for another doughnut. Paul batted his hand back in response, but this time, Gene touched his wrist. Paul didn’t pull his hand away, just looked at him, almost expectantly.

            “Gene?”

            “You’ve got icing on your face.”

            “Oh.” Paul wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “Did I get it?”

            “No.”

            “Now?”

            Gene shook his head and leaned in, just to see what he’d do. Paul, less oblivious than Gene had hoped, just stuck the remainder of the doughnut in Gene’s open mouth.

--

            Paul spent some time later that morning playing his answering machine messages. He’d exhausted the tape over the last week of not picking up the phone, apparently. He didn’t ask Gene to leave when he played the messages, which surprised him, just let the tape keep running while Gene finished off the milk. The box of doughnuts ended up on top of the dresser as Paul made up the bed. Gene watched him do it, leaning up against the wall.

            His own messages. Bill’s. Sean’s. A couple from Peter, one from Ace, a couple from various promoters. One from Paul’s therapist. Paul didn’t really react with anything but resignation to the whole slew, not until a little girl’s voice piped in from the machine.

            “Hi, Paul! This is Ericka!”

            Paul’s head jerked up, and he stopped making up the bed, hand frozen on the sheet. The message continued.

            “I got the souvenirs you sent! And the letter! Honey says you’re supposed to come visit before you go on tour!”

            “Honey?” Gene asked, but Paul didn’t respond. He was staring at the answering machine.

            “I wish you could visit more. I tell everybody at school you’re my brother, but they always say I’m lying. We should take pictures! Could you take pictures with me and the makeup? Then… then I’d have proof!” A pause. “I have to eat dinner now. I love you! Call me back!”

            Paul stopped the machine after the click of the receiver.

            “Honey’s my dad,” he said finally. “It’s what my mom calls him, so I guess it stuck.”

            “Ericka thinks you’re her brother?”

            “Yeah. She doesn’t know about Julia.” Paul’s tongue was peeking out from beneath his pursed lips. His jaw was tensed and tight. “Some of the assholes doing our publicity wanna let that story out. Use a seven-year-old kid to make me out to be some big hero of an uncle. All I do is pay her private school tuition and visit three times a year.”

            “Paul—”

            “I don’t want that for her. I don’t want her finding out like that.” He straightened the sheet and started on the comforter on top of it next, pulling it back into place. “Julia just… well, you remember. She dumped Ericka on my parents like… like she didn’t give a fuck.”

            Gene did remember, vaguely. He remembered Paul rambling about the baby, rambling about how his dad was on the warpath with him, threatening to throw him out of the house if he dared knock a girl up. He remembered telling Paul not to get worked up over it. Paul had said something acrid (“please, your mom wouldn’t kick you out if you assassinated Nixon”) and that had been the end of it.

            He hadn’t really thought about Paul’s family over the last three days. He’d thought about KISS and, of course, he’d thought about Paul, but he hadn’t considered much past that. A little shame was tugging in from somewhere in his gut. Paul would lose out on a lot more than his money if he stayed like this. He’d lose out on his relationship with his niece.

            “You care about her. Your parents care about her. That’s what matters.” Gene paused. “She’s wanted. She knows that.”

            “Yeah.” Paul looked away. “I’ll write her a letter.”

            “Don’t do that.”

            “Gene, I’m not gonna go quiet on her. That poor kid’s been waiting for months just to—”

            “You won’t have to go quiet on her.” Gene moved from his spot against the wall, reaching over and retrieving a pillow from the floor. Guilt was propelling him to do things he’d never bothered with in his life. Up to and including helping make up the bed. “Tonight’s the night we get you back to normal.”

            “That’s what we were hoping yesterday.”

            “This time yesterday, we only had a description. Right now we’ve got her name and the nightclub.”

            “Gene, there’s—there’s just no guarantee—I… I’ve gotta be realistic here.” Paul picked at his t-shirt. “Maybe we get her today, or tomorrow, or next week. Maybe we don’t. But I can’t keep setting myself up every day like… like some kid waiting on a package. It’s too much disappointment.”

            A thought occurred to Gene, out of nowhere. It was so stupid, so appallingly obvious, that he almost didn’t want to give it voice. He put the pillow on the bed, then reached over, tugging Paul’s sleeve. Paul turned around to face him, slowly.

            “Paul, listen. Why do you think Carol’s started to go to Studio 54?”

            “Because she’s a groupie. Because that’s where the biggest names are.”

            Gene stuck a finger against Paul’s mouth on weird impulse. His lips were dry and slightly chapped. Paul looked a little startled, but he didn't flush or back off.

            “Wrong. She’s there because she thinks you’ll be there.”

            Paul flicked Gene’s finger away.

            “That’s a gamble.”

            “It’s a damn good gamble. What do you bet she doesn’t even know if what she did worked? You’ve got to think—what does she know about you, really?”

            “She knows I had a seven-inch—”

            “She knows you like nightclubs and discotheques. Those are the only places outside of a concert she’d ever see you.”

            “Mary-Anne asked if it worked.” Paul said it slowly. Realization was dawning on his face, immediate as an onstage spotlight. “Remember? She knew Carol had done something to me. I don’t think she knew what, but—"

            “Exactly.”

            “Carol wants to see me.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Not half as much as I wanna see her.” Paul grabbed the phone, handing it to Gene, then scrambled around in the nightstand.

            “What are you looking for?”

            “My address book.”

            “Who am I calling here?”

            “Steve Rubell. The guy that owns Studio 54.” Paul was yanking everything from spare film canisters to pocket dictionaries to a couple tubes of K-Y jelly out of the nightstand in a bid for his address book. “Tell him I don’t care if she’s on Neil Diamond’s arm when she comes in. Tell him—just like you said earlier. Tell him you and me both want her in the VIP lounge tonight.”

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley

[beatricethecat2]

if/then (2.0) - 16

I'm releasing this into the world so I'll stop fiddling with it and I think the gist is there. It's a bit of a rollercoaster with lots of dialog, but more than a few things are revealed, so yay! and finally! There are a few more chapters coming up than I thought, because it's going to take awhile to unravel all of Helena's mysteries. Typos abound, I will fix later. (edited 8/28) Thanks for reading!

Previously: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15

////////////////////

Lowered voices and metallic rumblings nudge Myka from her well-earned sleep, but the high-pitched giggle of a giddy child rouses her for good.

“What are you watching?” Myka asks, hiking herself up to eye level, spying Helena and Christina huddled at the table.

“The finest in feline entertainment,” Helena says, angling her eyes toward Myka. "Sorry to wake you.”

“That’s ok. It’s been…” Myka turns and plucks her phone off the coffee table. “Wow, three hours.”

“You were exhausted.”

“Where's Claudia?”

“Comatose in the bedroom.”

“And the cooking?”

“We’re basting,” Christina answers, not looking up from the screen.

“Soon, there’ll be much more to prepare.”

“I'll help,” Myka says.

“Mom, look!”

Helena glances at the phone then brushes Christina's hair from her face, eyes shifting back when Christina lets out another hardy giggle. Christina leans into her mother, and Helena hugs her close, both chuckling at whatever’s happening on the screen.

The sound’s a reassuring reminder of simpler days, before the weight of the world crushed Myka's resolve. She sinks back into the couch, maybe there's hope for them yet, once Helena comes clean and their feet finally touch the ground.

Their day began early, with Helena rushing off for her bags, then a hurried trip to catch their red-eye to London. They were seated promptly on the plane, but after an announcement of a delay, Helena unclasped her seat belt and abruptly stood. Myka caught her arm and eased her down as the flight attendant scuttled over. She insisted they’d be moving shortly, but Helena fidgeted, overly worried they’d miss Christina and Claudia's arrival at the airport.

Their meet up went smoothly, thankfully, with jubilant hugs all around and they were soon whizzing in a black cab toward London. Claudia curled up in a corner while Christina and Helena cuddled nearby and Myka lounged in the jump seat across from them. As she sank into her seat, the weight of the last month fell off in waves; their next few days should be comparatively easygoing.

Once they hit the inner city, the driver twisted and turned, so much so Myka swore they were going in circles. When the car pulled up to the curb, there was a collective groan; they'd all conformed to their seats and were unwilling to move again. But they tumbled out of the cab and dragged their bags across the pavement, hauling them up a set of stairs and promptly dumping them inside.

“So this is it,” Claudia said. “Chez H.G.”

“This room and the next,” Helena replied, as Claudia poked her head in the bedroom.

“Not bad,” Claudia said, ducking into the kitchen then the bathroom. “Hey look, everything’s where it’s supposed to be.”

“For your convenience,” Helena quipped. “Obviously."

“It’s pretty small," Claudia said.

“It is only me here.”

“I got dibs on a shower.”

“I believe we all desire one.”

“I took one this morning after you…” Myka started, but Helena lowered her brow in caution. “...you went to get breakfast."

“I don’t wanna know,” Claudia said, waving a hand. "But I’ve been on kid duty for forever, so I get first dibs on whatever I want.”

“Claudia’s right,” Myka said.

“Very well,” Helena said. “I’ll begin preparations for the Great American Feast. Who’s with me?”

“Me!” Christina said, raising her hand and jumping up and down.

“And me. As long as I last,” Myka said.

Myka didn't last for long.

Claudia walks in yawning soon after Myka wakes, and as she joins in the preparations, their muscle memory of co-habituating flexes full force. It’s not unlike Helena’s old apartment, their bodies navigating around each other on instinct, but instead of a low coffee table, they’re eating at regulation height.

During dinner, Christina describes every dish's preparation, including where she found the recipe and how many times they’ve made it before.

“Our first foray into brussel sprouts precipitated Christina's front tooth's extraction,” Helena states.

“I thought it was the stuffing,” Claudia says.

“It was the nuts in the green beans!” Christina corrects.

“Almonds,” Helena recollects. “Damn that Martha Stewart."

Christina describes the event jubilantly, and all present agree with her account.

This prompts a flurry of anecdotes detailing previous Thanksgivings, everyone interrupting everyone else with corrections as they go. Myka sits back and listens, completely enthralled, as here's the backstory she’s always craved from them. It’s too bad it’s when she’s at odds with Helena, but she enjoys their tales nonetheless.

Once they're stuffed to the gills with turkey and pie, they crowd on the couch and cue up a movie. Myka nods off after the beginning credits roll and when she wakes, only Claudia remains, sleeping.

Myka finds Helena and Christina asleep, curled up together in Helena’s bedroom. She slides under the covers, gently, and shimmies close—a tight fit, but ultimately manageable—then smiles at the serenity on Helena's face. She reaches out, brushing a lock of hair away from Helena's eye, then skims her hand towards her, across Helena’s cheek and down to trace her jaw.

Helena blinks awake and as she focuses, returns Myka's smile in earnest.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Myka whispers.

“It’s alright. We should talk.”

“Tomorrow. Rest.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah, goodnight.” Myka glances at Christina, still blissfully asleep in her mother’s arms, then closes her eyes.

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

Helena's phone rings the minute they leave the flat for lunch.

“Go on ahead,” she says, frowning at the screen.

“We can wait,” Myka says, chancing a glance at the caller, but the display reads “unknown."

“This may take a minute. I’ll join you shortly," Helena says, tapping accept and lifting the device to her ear.

“Babezilla, you think?” Claudia says as Helena walks back inside. “I thought she was in the clear."

“Me too," Myka says, looking in Helena’s direction warily. "I guess she’s never really off the clock.”

After the sale, Helena was vague about her involvement closing the deal and hadn't spoken much about the bar or school. But it's odd, her wandering off with Christina physically here, as she’d want to spend every single second possible in her presence. Whoever is calling must be delivering sensitive news, but she’ll suspend her suspicions until later.

When Helena joins them at the cafe, she claims the call wasn't that important, but as the day progresses, Myka doubts that's true. Helena won't look her in the eye and keeps Christina close, making it impossible to ask probing questions. She thought she’d be more forthcoming once Claudia left to meet with friends, but instead, she suggests visiting a row of market stalls. This thrills Christina to no end and they look up recipes while shopping, until Helena’s phone rings again. She instructs them to go on without her, handing Myka her keys and walking off in the direction they came from.

“Is mom ok?” Christina asks, looking as worried as Myka's feeling.

“I think it’s just work. It was hard for her to get time off.”

“Ok,” Christina says, sounding unconvinced. “We need milk to make dessert.”

“There's a store on our way. We’ll stop there,” Myka says. As Helena disappears around a corner, she places a hand on Christina’s shoulder and guides her toward the flat.

Ten minutes after their arrival, the buzzer rings. "Hello again," Helena greets as Myka opens the door. She kisses Myka on the cheek, then strides towards the kitchen with nary a word about the call.

Helena dotes over Christina and it's a heartening sight, but Myka can’t shake the feeling something’s terribly wrong. She’s surprised when Helena suggests they tuck in Christina early. They tell her stories until Christina's eyes droop and close.

“Wine?” Helena suggests as they tiptoe into the living room.

“Yeah, sure,” Myka answers, following Helena into the kitchen.

“Perhaps this economically priced Malbec will suffice for the evening since it’s all that’s left after last night.” Helena sets the bottle on the counter and rifles through a drawer, then opens another and repeats the action. When she consults a third with no result, Myka opens the first and plucks out a wine opener.

“Are you ok?” Myka says, flipping the knife open and sliding the bottle towards her. She scores the wrapping, then peels it off.

“I’ve been better,” Helena says, taking two wine glasses from a cabinet.

“What’s up with all the calls?” Myka asks, screwing the corkscrew in and pushing the lever down.

“Things best discussed while sitting,” Helena answers.

Myka up lifts the cork and when it pops, Helena snatches the bottle out from under it. She pours a generous portion and hands the glass to Myka. "Have a seat, and I’ll join you shortly.”

Myka grimaces as she walks, sitting down means bad news. She circles the couch and sits, looking over her shoulder to check if Helena’s following.

Helena downs an entire glass and pours herself another, then joins Myka, but sits at a distance. She folds her hands over her lap and straightens her spine as if readying for a presentation.

“Thank you for joining us for Thanksgiving. We had a lovely time.”

“It was nice. But that’s not what this is about."

“No.” Helena looks down at her hands, a thumb now scrubbing over her wrist. "We’ve been getting on rather well lately, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, mostly.”

“If you might recall that moving forward I’d be most appreciative.” Helena stills her thumb and clasps her hands together.

"What’s wrong?”

“I must inform you of something rather unpleasant.”

“Was that Bonnie on the phone?”

“I’m not at liberty to say."

“Is this about the appeal?” Myka scoots closer and places a hand over Helena’s.

“Not precisely. It’s something I’d hoped to avoid entirely, but I’m told there’s no alternative." Helena glances towards the bedroom, then back at Myka. “I apologize for the situation that we’re all about to be placed in."

“You’re scaring me a little,” Myka says, withdrawing her hand.

“I’m scared myself,” Helena says, unclasping her hands and laying them, palms down, on her knees. For a minute it looks like she might stand, but it’s just the way her body's tensing. "I won't mince words, but I do ask you remain civil once I've disclosed this information."

“Civil? This doesn't sound good.”

“It's not,” Helena says, fingers now curled around her knees. “I’m being taken in for questioning for transporting stolen goods over international borders. It’s likely you, and Mrs. Frederic will be questioned as well.”

Myka blinks several times, repeating the phrases in her mind until the depth of Helena's words sink in. “Questioned by who? And when?”

“By the police. As early as tomorrow."

Myka takes a moment to rationalize this. “Is this about the sale?"

“In a sense. Have you any idea what the “under the radar” item you offered was?”

“No."

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely certain.”

“Yes. Why?” Only a minute in and Helena’s already testing her patience.

“You must be unwavering in answer when questioned."

“I don’t know. You said you didn’t either.” A familiar anger wells up in Myka's chest. "I’m guessing that was a lie."

“I delivered it, for Mrs. Frederic.”

“To who? MacPherson?”

Helena’s eyes narrow, reading as if that wasn't the question she was expecting. “No. To Bonnie.”

“So the police think you stole it?”

“It was stolen goods in the first place. I was merely transporting it across borders.”

“You’re saying Mrs. Frederic stole it?”

“I have no knowledge of its acquisition. I was simply the courier in this situation."

Helena’s bláze tone works on Myka’s nerves but going off on her now will only make matters worse. If she’s honest, many of Mrs. Frederic's deals have questionable origins, though she does make an effort to reunite items with their owners. And her original offer, the Faberge egg, was technically stolen goods, but stolen a hundred years ago, which made it seem a non-issue.

The secrecy around this new item must mean it's very, very hot. Helena and Bonnie obviously knew that and pushed Mrs. Frederic to release it. But to get caught during delivery seems out of character for both of them. There must be a logic driving the decision.

“You’re framing Mrs. Frederic. You got caught on purpose,” Myka says, as it all comes into focus.

“Why would I do that? I’m already on probation. Do you think I never want to reunite with my child?”

“That’s not what I—"

“That bloody Sally blew the whistle. Bonnie was whispering in her ear for months. The police are gathering planted evidence as we speak."

“So Bonnie does work for MacPherson,” Myka mumbles, mostly to herself.

“Not that I’m aware of."

“That’s who was on the phone at the sale every time you left the room."

"How exactly would he call without raising suspicions? He's in jail."

“I don’t know. But ruining Mrs. Frederic’s reputation would be a priority for him.”

“Why would I, of all people, agree to help him?"

“Maybe it's your way out, permanently."

"I was out. This is on Emily. And there are numerous others invested in taking Mrs. Frederic down."

"Ok, say I believe you. Why are Emily and Bonnie railroading Mrs. Frederic?”

“Emily was delivering goods as contracted. Bonnie planned this escapade down to the minute. Apparently, my 'slip up of disastrous proportions’ was only to be executed as a desperate measure.”

“A-ha! So you did know. And you are framing Mrs. Frederic.”

“Keep your voice down,” Helena scolds and glances towards the bedroom.

"I know Bonnie's a cop. Or she used to be. And I know you've known her since undergrad,” Myka continues, undeterred.

Helena flinches back. "Where are you getting this?"

"You dated. She left you. You were crushed. And now you're working with her and probably sleeping with her, too.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“Do you want to be?” Myka’s hands ball into fists, it’s exhilarating to have thrown that jab. She wants to hit something, something Helena sized, and she just might, depending on the answer.

“Do you hear yourself? You’re utterly delusional."

“How would I know? You’ve spent more time with her than me."

“I understand you’re upset, but this is—”

“What do you want from me? Really, truly want?"

“I want this to be over so we can move forward as a family.”

“Ha! Right. With you in jail?”

“It wouldn't be for long."

"How could you know?"

"I've information to barter my freedom.”

“And if that doesn’t work and you’re sent away anyway? You’re just stringing me along to look after your kid.”

“You’ve never been obligated. Claudia can—"

A muffled whimper cuts Helena short. She flies off the couch towards the source and scoops Christina into her arms.

Myka remains on the couch as they disappear into the bedroom, sick to her stomach that Helena used her for personal gain. She didn't deny knowing Bonnie previously and she deny sleeping with her. Now that all of her worst fears have been confirmed, Helena's flat feels too small. There’s no way she can stay here tonight, she has to get out as soon as possible.

She strides into the bedroom to gather her things but is stopped short by Christina sobbing in Helena's arms.

“Myka hates me,” Christina blurts.

“She doesn’t hate you, love. Do you, Myka.”

“Of course I don’t,” Myka grunts, avoiding Helena's glower by grabbing her suitcase. “Your mom and I are having…issues, but I still love you.”

“But you said…you said that...that you didn’t want to take care of me anymore,” Christina manages, through sobs.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did. You never stay at Aunt Claudia’s.”

“I’ve been busy."

“What are you doing?” Helena asks.

“I'm leaving. I need to be anywhere but here.” Myka jams a pair of shorts into her suitcase and Christina sobs harder. “Just for tonight,” Myka amends, with a slightly less bite.

“She’ll be back,” Helena says, combing her fingers through Christina’s hair.

Myka grabs a smaller bag, one that will do for overnight, and transfers clothes into it.

“I don't want mom to go to jail.”

“That wasn’t meant for your ears,” Helena says.

“Knowing you, you will,” Myka grumbles at Helena.

Christina gasps and burrows her face into Helena’s chest. Helena shoots Myka a deathly glare.

“I-I need some things from the bathroom.”

Myka hurries out of the room, that was cruel but Helena pushed her, plus it's too late to take it back now. She shoves toiletries into her bag then pats her pockets, but doesn't find her phone. It must be in the living room, so she treads out to find it, but is dragged back in by the arm.

“Ow, you're hurting me!” Myka yelps as Helena herds her in. She tugs her arm free as Helena pushes the door closed.

“You must listen closely and do as I say, for I will not have you put away in my place.”

“Me, go to jail? I haven't done anything wrong!"

“That you’re aware of.”

“What did you do?”

“Not me. Mrs. Frederic.”

Myka scoffs. “Mrs. Frederic, right.”

“This is not a bluff.”

“It’s hard to tell with you.”

Helena’s eyes tighten; it’s clear she's in no mood for bickering.

“Fine. Go on."

“Before I continue, I must emphasize, you mustn’t mention your ‘theories' when questioned."

“What ‘theories'?"

“Bonnie working for the authorities and us colluding against Mrs. Frederic. Neither were 'in the heat of the moment' guesses, I presume.”

“No. But you said I was ‘delusional' and brushed me off.”

“What are you basing them on, exactly?”

“I don’t have to tell you.” Myka throws her nose into the air and crosses her arms over her chest.

“But you shall, after the state you’ve left my daughter in.”

Myka drops her arms. “Is she ok?”

“As well as to be expected after being shunned by someone she loves.”

“I was mad at you, not her.”

“Then take it out on me, not in front of her.”

"Oh, I will.” Helena's scolding gets Myka's ire up again.

“These ’theories’ of yours. What are they based on?"

“Stuff Claudia dug up on the internet."

“You’ve involved Claudia!” Helena blurts.

"I couldn't follow you blindly! I had to find out for myself."

"Does she know—"

"About you being at the sale? No."

"And this information, is any of it on your computer?"

“Yes. Why?"

"Wipe it immediately. All traces. Everything. And when you're interviewed, do not mention Claudia's involvement.”

“Why should I help you?”

“It’s in all our best interests you heed my advice.”

“Seriously, why? I don’t see how ‘heeding your advice’ helps anyone but you.” Myka glares at Helena until her muscles begin to quiver, the urge to punch her rising again. “I gotta go,” she says, moving towards the door, but Helena steps in front of her. She tries to push Helena aside, but Helena grabs her wrist and shoves her back in.

“I’ll explain," Helena says. "But I shouldn't."

Myka yanks her wrist free.

“You mustn't repeat a word I say. Not to Claudia nor Christina, Abigail or Amanda. You're absolutely in the dark; otherwise, we’re all sunk.”

“Got it. Act dumb.”

“Act pained. Dumbfounded. Betrayed. Everything you’ve been feeling this evening times ten. The drama must ring true."

“Fine," Myka says and waits for Helena to continue, but instead, Helena looks over at the tub. She perches on its edge and looks down at the floor, dragging a hand through her hair, holding it back.

“Helena, tell me."

Helena releases her locks slowly, letting them cascade in sheets until her face is entirely obscured by a black curtain. "It's you that's being railroaded. By Mrs. Frederic."

“What?” Myka barely heard a word Helena said. She sits on the tub and angles her head for better access.

“Your trajectory was ideal: an eager young recruit, overstepping her bounds for professional gain. I was told it was the least harmful option to produce the desired result."

"I don't understand."

“The delay at Customs. Mrs. Frederic's intervention. All pre-planned events. The item in question was hidden in your crates.” Helena turns toward Myka. "It was you that was meant to be caught redhanded, but Bonnie and I threw a wrench into the works.”

Myka stands and backs away. This is surely another tale Helena's spinning.

“I understand how ludicrous this sounds, but it's the truth."

"Why should I believe you?"

“Because we’re all pawns in this volatile game of chess. Your sacrifice was meant to push MacPherson into a compromising position. His influence extends well beyond antiquities, into dark dealings too gruesome to mention. I can’t even begin to explain how important this transaction is and how horrified I was to hear you were anywhere near it. I did everything in my power to force Mrs. Frederic’s hand. I thought I’d succeeded until you turned up in Germany.”

“You got me dropped from the sale?"

"Yes."

Myka takes a moment to process this. "How long have you known?"

“Since my first meeting with Mrs. Frederic. I’d learned then you’d been earmarked earlier. And that Theodora and Vanessa were also involved."

"Theodora and Vanessa?” Myka wobbles and grabs hold of the sink counter. That’s why she was given the antiquities job, not because she was worthy. "Vanessa wouldn't do that."

"Vanessa had little choice. She was strong-armed by Mrs. Frederic. Theodora wavered but was...coerced."

“Coerced? How?”

“I’m not privy to the details. But she was rather suddenly on board.”

"Why me?"

“Mrs. Frederic believed, were you to be sentenced at all, the court would be lenient for a first offense. I argued the opposite, that they’d use you to set an example, especially with such a high profile case. Therefore, I was ordered to stay out of it entirely, which I entirely did not do. I instead contacted Vanessa and Theodora to form a plan."

“What did they say?"

“That Mrs. Frederic’s no longer behaving rationally. She’d do anything to keep MacPherson behind bars, even ruin careers were it to further her agenda. They agreed she needed to be stopped, but they hadn’t a clue how.”

Myka flashes back to Italy, to the meal she had with Theodora. She'd said Mrs. Frederic would push her until she broke and warned she should push back before that happened. "Family's what’s left when everything else falls flat,” Theodora had said. Was she referencing this moment then?

“So this has nothing to do with Emily. This is all about me.”

“Unfortunately, yes. Upon arrival in London, I, and Emily were genuinely free of Macpherson’s affairs. In fact, my involvement was never meant to go this far."

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“The less you knew, the better."

Helena's standard answer, but an answer that now makes sense. Myka stares at her, heart racing, blood pounding, she doesn’t know what to say. Her whole world’s just been turned upside-down, and for once, Helena’s given her real answers.

“I’m doing this for us. For our future. I’m in a much better position to bargain than you. And who better to care for my daughter were I locked away?”

Helena’s quip is meant to be playful, but her tender tone hits Myka in the gut. “I’m sorry. So sorry. For everything.” She moves across the room and resumes her spot on the tub. “I should apologize to Christina."

“Please do. But maintain the illusion we're fighting."

“I’ll do whatever you say,” Myka says, reaching across Helena's lap and taking hold of her hand.

“Your instincts are correct. Stay in a hotel. Don't tell me where. And come tomorrow, this conversation never happened. You’re very, very angry with me once it all unfolds."

"I'm sorry for the way I've treated you. You didn't deserve—"

"You had good reason.” Helena flips Myka's hand over and laces their fingers together. "Now, go apologize to my daughter, then storm off in a huff."

Myka scoots closer. "I have no idea what's going on and that scares me. But I trust you. I really do."

"You have no idea how much that means to me.” Helena brings Myka’s hand up to her lips and kisses its back.

“Hey, you guys in there? Cos I really, reeeeally gotta pee. These Brits, man, they guzzle booze like there’s no tomorrow,” Claudia says.

Helena closes her eyes and breathes a deep breath. “Can this evening get any worse?"

“Don’t tempt it,” Myka says, squeezing Helena’s hand.

-TBC-

#BERING AND WELLS #w13 #fanfiction #if/then #Myka Bering #Helena HG Wells #if you're reading this and know the story #please let me know if I've not explained what's going on clearly #there are huge gaps that will be filled in coming up #but this should at least move the story forward #in a way that makes sense #thank you!

[la-appel-du-vide]

Lake Powell 2021 🌊

Ohhhhh Lake Powell. What a PLACE!

After we had such a blast last year, we wanted to do another trip this year - especially because now Brady has a Jeep that can tow! We figured it would be cheaper to rent a pair of waverunners in Utah and then drive them down ourselves. Plus, Brayden had NEVER SEEN Lake Powell, which is both crazy and not acceptable. (;

As the summer went on, and the lake levels kept dropping (they're currently the lowest they've been since the lake was originally filled up), we were getting nervous that our trip wouldn't happen. Ramps at Wahweap and Bullfrog were closed and auxiliary ramps had to be used instead - the photos of the ramps so far out of the water are absolutely crazy! Houseboats were encouraged to pull out of the water. Things weren't looking super good. But when the time came to pull the trigger, we took the risk and hoped things would work out. And they did!

We rented two waverunners from a guy in Provo, and that was a horrible experience. We told him we'd be picking them up on Thursday night between 7:30 and 8:30, and he said to give him a 45-minute heads up. We texted him when we were about 35 minutes out, and he didn't even leave until 40 minutes later. He literally did not get there until 9:15. I was livid - we still had a 5-hour drive to Page. On top of that, the waverunners were NOT in good shape. Deep gashes covered in paint/duct tape, one that was missing its registration sticker (literally illegal), one that had no mirrors, neither of them had dry box lids (he tried to tell me that was normal, that they ALWAYS break off on every machine he's ever seen - BS, and I called him on that), they had a tiny amount of storage space, and they were already low on fuel. Perfect. He insisted that we take 6 life jackets, even though we only needed three, so he didn't have to put a special note on the reservation. Annoying. He talked to us about useless information for almost an hour, so we left SO much later than we wanted to, and didn't get to Page until almost 3 AM. Good start to the trip, right?

We stayed in a little townhome Airbnb - it was fine, but a bit outdated (the green carpet was a clear giveaway haha). We got a quick four hours of sleep before we were up again, exhausted, to hit the lake. We stopped by the place Beach and I rented from last year to see if they wouldn't mind giving us a map - we LOVED the map they gave us last year. Clear, helpful, and plastic so getting wet doesn't hurt it. It was awkward though, when I explained we weren't renting from them this year, but certainly would again in the future because we were having a very bad time, but that we'd really love a map again. She gave us one, but didn't seem happy about it. Yikes. Then we stopped at the store to get some snacks for the day, and finally stopped at Maverik to fill the stupid things up. That's where the next sign of trouble occurred - Beach took the turn too sharp and rammed the trailer right into the bollard in front of the gas pump. It was SO loud and shook us all. And yep, it left quite a dent in the trailer. It was still functional, but that's no way to start a day. Morale was quite low for a bit.

But then we finally got to the lake. Much needed. The line wasn't long at all - I think many people are afraid to launch after hearing the things we'd heard. We launched like pros and hit the lake! I was really conscious of enjoying the sun on my skin, the sound of the water, and the way it felt to cruise around the lake. I get so sad at the end of summer, because the warm weather really keeps me going. We went to see the dam, and took an inaugural dip. We LOVE our little dips - always refreshing, and never too cold. Plus, you dry almost immediately when you get out! We drove the channel (insane, of course) down to Antelope Canyon, and then hit a no-wake zone up until we got to a spot to park. Because the lake levels are so low, there's a ton of muck in the water (I'm not sure how that correlates, but it must, because it wasn't like this last year) when you get to the ends of canyons. There was a THICK layer of sticks/debris coming into the Antelope Canyon parking area. Brayden and Beach had to swim us in so we didn't get the machines full of that crap and ruin the engine.

It's amazing how much less crowded it was this year than last year. We only saw a handful of people while we were hiking Antelope - last year, it was pretty packed and we had to do a lot of waiting to get photos. I liked this part of the change haha. It's such a stunning canyon and hike - the beautiful wave patterns along the red rocks are just unreal. It doesn't feel like it's something that could have happened naturally, and it's absolutely mind boggling. We are so lucky to have something like this so close to home, so we can experience the magic so easily. Ugh, I love it. I got a little nauseous on the hike back, because I always do when I don't sleep and then physically exert myself. BUT I didn't throw up, so W! We took a small break to eat an apple, drink some water, and rest in the shade before swimming the waverunners back out through the muck hahah (poor B and Beach - I got a ride). We did have to do some serious work to ensure that the engines were clean and clear of debris before we started them up again, and that was a little stressful, but it all turned out fine.

Then I hopped on with Beach and we drove Navajo Canyon, which is really just one of my favorite things to do. By the time you get to the end (it's pretty long) it smoothes out so nicely, and there is NOTHING better than absolutely cruising on glass water on a waverunner. We were gliding so fast, taking smooth, wide turns through the canyon... gave me absolute life. At one point, Beach hopped on with Brayden and they took a video of me riding side-by-side with them, and it's so great.

Then trouble hit us yet again. My waverunner alarm started going off to alert us of low fuel. We knew it was time to head back to the marina anyway, so we could load them up before it got dark. We started heading out and just decided to take the fastest path back to the marina, because we obviously weren't familiar with these machines and didn't know how far we could get once the gas light was on. We took a right out of Navajo Canyon to go look for the small channel that leads from Warm Creek Bay back to the marina - which we used quite a bit last year. But..... we couldn't find it. I was pretty sure I was losing my mind. We drove that whole bay up and down a couple of times, and I was getting so frustrated by how I could possibly be missing it. Eventually, we stopped by a houseboat to ask where it was, and apparently it's LITERALLY GONE. The entire channel DRIED UP. In the span of a few months. That is WILD. And we'd wasted all the gas I probably even had left looking for something that doesn't exist anymore. So the bad news was, now we'd have to go ALL THE WAY AROUND to get back to the marina. Their gas light was on too now (by the way, the alarm would scare us so bad when it went off, and it lasted like 3 minutes before it would turn off - so annoying) and we figured we would run out of gas before we made it that far. We ended up stopping by another houseboat (a SUPER nice one) to ask if they'd be willing to let us borrow a couple of gallons of gas. They were super nice about it and let us have some. Then we went guns ablazing to try and get back to the marina before it got dark. Going the long way, though, you hit THREE wakeless zones, so it just takes forever. We ended up completely forgoing the rules and flying through them. The sun was setting FAST and it was getting SO DARK. It's definitely not safe to be out there in the "pitch night" hahaha as Beach said. By the time we dropped Beach off to go get the car and trailer, it was literally black outside. I could hardly see anything. Some of the buoys had lights on, which was so helpful, but we still had to be so careful. Our only saving grace was a broken down boat at the bottom of the auxiliary ramp that had a light on, so we could find the ramp in the dark. Loading was difficult, especially once we realized that the roller poles on our trailer were SO LOOSE. We texted the rental guy about what to do and his response was "Lol, guess those need to be tightened." And he suggested we try to tie them on with a rope. SO helpful. All of his stuff was shotty.

But we DID IT. What an adventure. We stopped for dinner at Denny's on the way home, because we looked like hell and hadn't eaten all day. And then we were so exhausted, I'm pretty sure I've never slept deeper. I couldn't even keep my eyes open for a minute.

To be continued...

[cosmosogler]

it’s 10:30.

not sure what to say. went to bed kinda late again... woke up before 8:30 but not as early as i’d wanted. i made eggs and meatless sausage for breakfast and got kinda sick. i felt sluggish all morning and just didn’t want to do anything at all.

eventually, around 11:30 or 12, i flopped on my bike and pedaled all the way to the physics department. i worked for about, i don’t know, six and a half hours total? i finished my e&m extra credit project since suzanne wasn’t around to help with the classical, but then i didn’t even get problem 1 of classical done... it’s due first thing in the morning. i asked luis for help tomorrow so even if it’s late it’s not a full day late... i’ll be hard-pressed to finish quantum in time too though.

i biked home after 9. it was very... dreamlike. it was pouring rain and the lights were all smeary and water was dripping off my face while cars passed by next to the bike lane. their headlights would light up a strip of the road for just a few seconds. 

when i got home i was trying to get some of the water out of my hair and i looked at myself and the way i was so exhausted and my hair was in half-wet loose curls and i guess for a moment i saw how someone could look at me and say “yeah, i like this person. this is Good.” 

i dunno how i feel about that actually. i miss hiking with my friends and jumping in the river. seeing your friends get all wiped out and posing with gorgeous landscapes just feels nice inside. like you’re alive i guess. like the moment, just for a moment, is real? and it doesn’t matter that it’s passed because it was there for a second and it mattered.

liking how i look is kind of a foreign concept to me?? like every now and then i’ll see myself and be like, “this is right. good.” and other times it’s not right and it’s irritating and makes me feel kind of disconnected. 

i don’t know what else to say. i wrote for a little bit. like ten minutes. i’m worried about my homework in an abstract way- part of me is too tired and confused to care. i had a foggy headache all day. that made it hard to work of course. i want to talk to someone... but i’m not sure who, or what i want to say, or what i would say. 

my dream last night had some really stealthy stupid jokes/references that i didn’t catch until i woke up. one actually made me groan but i can’t remember what it was and that’s going to keep me up forever. sometimes the dumb references are worse than just straight up nightmares. it feels like they, kind of, undermine the scariness of the rest of the dream. 

i think i was staying pretty nearby one of my dream friends but i don’t remember who it was. i miss them. sometimes it’s nice to not have to suffer alone. and sometimes i actually can do something for them. 

and i miss the butler. i’ve been looking for him for a long time. he didn’t seem to be at the mansion the last few times i got to it. i guess there was something... maybe parental? about him that i thought was very comforting. enough so that i remember him very vividly at least. that sense of security, like he was so competent at his job that nothing bad could even happen around him.

i’m wasting time... it’s 11:15 now. i don’t want to go to class tomorrow... 

i know mental health days are part of my accommodations but like... i have office hours on top of class? what am i supposed to do, go to the office and then not go to class? i appreciate that the drc is willing to make these special cases for me, but i don’t... i can’t figure out how to make them work or in what situations they would even be feasible. and the extra time on the test didn’t help, i didn’t finish it on time anyway... 

it’s demoralizing. today when we were picking up some takeout for dinner jennica talked about how she’s so ready to move out to chicago to work at fermilab in two years. i realized that this situation, the one right now, isn’t permanent, or even that long-term. all the people i’ve spent the last month and a half meeting... i’m not going to see them for very long. i don’t know how to pace a friendship with them. i don’t know what i’m going to do once we stop taking classes and work in separate labs full time. like... i’ve been in school since i was 3. i have no idea what the rest of life is supposed to be like. will i spend my whole life getting shunted from office to office, not able to have enough time to really make any solid connections? am i not going to be able to have friends that i see every day? will i just be that sad lady that Just Couldn’t Take It?

it’s nice to know that there are a limited amount of horrible assignments getting piled on constantly (i worked on the classical assignment for four and a half hours and didn’t even finish one full problem) but like... the uncertainty is making me anxious. the next prelim is in two months. midterms are in a week. i still don’t know what an effective study strategy for myself would be. i still haven’t seen a therapist or really done any work on overcoming my test anxiety. if that’s even what it is. 

i haven’t had time. 

i tell myself that. we all know i could squeeze just one more hour out of my day if i just tried harder, naturally. 

i don’t know if i’m lazy or not. people tell my how hard i work but i never seem to get things done and i can’t tell if it’s because i couldn’t work fast enough or if i didn’t WANT to work fast enough because i don’t want to succeed. i can’t tell if i want to succeed or not. 

if i had close friends... or a therapist, if i had someone telling me what to do, or working through things with me, or just giving me new information i wouldn’t have to... figure it all out on my own, i guess. i wouldn’t have to figure it out and know that no one else really knows how i feel. “i’m sure you did fine!!” doesn’t really cut it. especially when i get a 10% on the prelim. i sure did fine didn’t i. i told you i really didn’t feel good about it. you didn’t believe me. you thought i was unreasonably nervous. but i was right.

you just didn’t take me seriously enough.

i’m not sure what it is about me that makes people think i’m some kind of young kid. physically or mentally, i don’t know. i don’t talk about my asexuality that often or with many people. what unconscious signal am i putting out that says “this kid is smol”? every friend group i am part of people are surprised to learn my actual age. it happened earlier this week too when i made a joke about dial up. maybe that was today. earlier this week i talked about something from mid-90s and jennica was like, “you couldn’t possibly remember that.” and i said “i’m 25.” and she said “what???”

can i not be a jokester AND a full adult with a wide range of feelings and opinions? is it because i’m stupid or something and people can tell? man, i don’t know. i make myself smaller and then get annoyed when people treat me like i’m small. because i’m cool and have super logic powers that you get when you make all your own problems up in your head and act them out as if they were real.

mm... i know that’s not true. my heart really does have a big bandaid on it. my gallbladder really broke. depression is real. my parents really hit me and called me retarded and selfish. all that stuff when i was 19-20... that was real.

it’s tiring. acknowledging that things are real. it’s tiring when i don’t blow this stuff off as a joke and people don’t know how to react or think i’m exaggerating. i mean yeah i love to embellish funny stories but... i don’t think i’m remembering more things than actually happened. i was having a lot of problems with jennica yesterday, talking about her mother, and how she was overprotective and overbearing but she did it because She Loves Me. something in me got real tight and hard and i got that feeling that i need to be brutal so that she understands.

i dunno if that ever works! i think it mostly intimidates people. or maybe it makes them think i feel sorry for myself. which i do. i think that’s warranted. but if they judge me for that... it’s hard to have a conversation where i’m a real person to them.

i miss having friends.

it’s 11:40. at least i did something instead of just sitting around staring at the wall i guess. i’m pretty bummed now. i’m going to sleep.

[andrewdrobins]

The Bledsoe Show w/ Simon Scott: Burnt & Poisoned #77



This is a special episode, where Mike and a few friends describe their experience right after participating in a special ceremony in Sedona, AZ, which included frog medicine from the amazon called kambo.

Kambo is an extraction from an Amazonian frog, which some people think is poison, but it’s a collection of peptides, which humans use for cleansing the body and spirit for thousands of years.

The episode is broken down into three back-to-back separate interviews. The first one is with Simon Scott, the kambo medicine provider and administrator, and two more interviews with the participants in the ceremony, including previous guest, Mark England.

Enjoy!

-Mike

A post shared by Simon Scott (@simonscott) on Apr 25, 2018 at 5:40pm PDT

Who is Simon Scott?

Simon Scott is a kambo practitioner and provider, who has been administering thousands of kambo ceremonies for the past 5 years. Before getting into kambo, a south American medicine used in the Amazon, Simon had a strong career in visual effects, living in the UK, which is where he is from.

Simon got into kambo as a result of his health problems. He was depressed, could barely walk, and was looking for help. He first found ayahuasca, and after working with ayahuasca for 3 years, he found kambo. Simon was attracted to kambo after he saw the physical results of people who did it. He witnessed how people who were hunched over, who looked depressed and decaying, looked energetic and upright, post kambo ceremonies.

The biggest thing Simon received from kambo is a sense of trust, a sense that he is held and connected. Instead of walking around in fear, thinking about how he will survive, kambo freed Simon of that feeling, and made him more trusting and confident.

Mike and other participants at Simon’s ceremony felt clarity, sharpness, and relaxation.

“Shamanic medicine comes with a price, and the price is usually some form of pain or giving something up.” — Simon Scott

Connect with Simon on social: Instagram, Facebook

Resources: Kambo Cleanse

What’s kambo?

Kambo works on different levels: Physical, emotional, and spiritual. People can come to a kambo ceremony with a physical issue, and then find themselves working on the emotional and spiritual levels.

Kambo doesn’t necessarily cure disease and should be kept separate from the medical field. Your so called disease can come from some kind of blockage in your body, and kambo tends to loosen or release those blockages completely. Most of the results from kambo happen post ceremony, Simon has witnessed people who have changed partners, careers, and even sex.

Kambo is not prevalent in domesticated frogs, it comes from fibromyalgia frogs, which are big green tree frogs found in Peru, Brazil and Columbia. A lot of tribes have a special relationship with these frogs, and they know how to call the frogs and “speak” to them. They don’t kill the frogs, else only capture them to get the kambo and release them.

In the past, hunters and warriors used kambo to sharpen their senses (hearing and visual), and to be able to go longer without water and food. When you first get introduced to kambo, it can make you tired as you’re working through a bunch of shit. But later on, it can be energizing, and fine tune all of your senses. It even removes the human smell and makes people “invisible” to wild animals.

“Kambo is not a miracle cure. It’s not going to solve cancer, but it will help you become a better version of yourself at that moment.” — Simon Scott

Kambo administration

If you want to work with kambo practitioners, you have 3 options:

Independent person — Someone who is self-trained

IAKP — International Associated of Kambo Practitioners

KKP — Katukina Kambo providers

Currently, most people take kambo and reconstitute it with water to make it a paste. They then make a “gate” on the body using a hot stick, and apply the kambo to a hole so it can go into the bloodstream. For safety, ceremonies start with a single point, and then increase the number of points to 6 or more.

Sananga eye drops are also commonly used before kambo (and ayahuasca) ceremonies. Sananga eye drops are also from the Amazon, they are made from roots of a bush, and enhances eye vision:

“For traditional Amazonian tribespeople, sananga is a powerful eye medicine used to sharpen night vision. For modern seekers of spiritual healing, however, sananga does more than help with hunting. Often used as a precursor to ayahuasca ceremonies by the Kaxinawa and Matsés tribes of Brazil, these powerful eye drops have a healing power that’s more energetic than physical, and that has the capacity to increase spiritual insight in the minds of those who use it.” — PsychedelicTimes.com

Post kambo

Listen to your body after a kambo ceremony. If your body wants to go on a hike because it is energized, do it. If your body is exhausted and you feel like sleeping for 12 hours, do that. When you are post a ceremony, listen to yourself, not the group. Moving forward, think of kambo as a space maker, go meditate, and go journal.

Get 15% OFF Qualia with promo code: Bledsoe15

Kambo retreat testimonials

Rick McCoy is a MMA institute owner from Richmond, VA. Rick has struggle with being peace and calm, and has always been a person who was trying to go for the hard way. Kambo made him realize he doesn’t have to do it, which was a huge breakthrough.

Rick has done kambo prior to this retreat, but during this one, he felt like the setting and people took it to another level. He felt really good, felt serenity, and slept amazing over the weekend, even though he usually takes sleeping pills.

When it comes to kambo, one of the biggest roadblocks for people is vomiting, and Rick was very much against it, but he learned to embrace it. When it comes to purging and vomiting, he realized it was getting bad things out of him, and it almost felt like a celebration!

“I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of this, but I got exactly what I wanted out of this.” — Rick McCoy

Connect with Rick on social: Instagram, Facebook

Resources: MMA Institute

Brian Muka is a veteran from Richmond, VA, who currently does medical sales, but intends on switching careers to coaching and leading people to approach their relationship with fear.

Post ceremony, Brian felt more centered, and felt like there was an inner shift in him. Even though the ceremony brought things from his deployment to Iraq, in the end, he felt calm and energized.

“I can be more comfortable being uncomfortable.” — Brian Muka

Connect with Rick on social: Facebook

Resources: Fear Sherpa

Ashley Bledsoe is not only Mike’s wife, but also has a master’s degree in Sports and Recreation Management, and has been supporting, coaching and facilitating groups in the fitness industry for the past 10 years.

However, over the past three years, she’s been delving into deeper healing work. She’s passionate about coaching female entrepreneurs to forge deeper connections to themselves, each other and creating unique and practical ways to bring that to their businesses.

In the past year, Ashley has done a lot of work to get back to her inner self. She wanted to get rid of what no longer serves her, and felt like she was always tired. Post ceremony she felt more relaxed than she’s ever been, and her body felt really good.

Today, Ashley is working on the Great Bold Woman Project, which is for women that are in relationships with entrepreneurs. The project is about learning how to stay in power and be in love and support of their partners.

“It wasn’t overwhelming, unless I thought it was overwhelming… Trust yourself and trust the medicine.” — Ashley Bledsoe

Connect with Ashley on social: Instagram, Facebook

Mark England has professionally coached thousands of clients worldwide using the power of words and stories for over a decade. He holds an BA in business and a Master’s in Education. Mark is the co-founder of Procabulary and is a lifelong personal development enthusiast.

Mark met Simon Scott in 2014 at a leadership emergent after the Envision festival at Costa Rica. Mark saw a picture of people doing it before and heard about a first-hand experience from a friend. When he did it for the first time, he was too tensed to get all the benefits. Today, he is trying to form a better relationship with kambo as it takes a while to relax into a kambo session, similar to the process of relaxing to an ice bath session.

Mark felt content, but there’s always more. Post ceremony, he gets more insight into what he’s doing in his life and that’s enough for him. His favorite quote from the retreat describing kambo was said by Mike:

“Let old things die.” — Mike Bledsoe

Connect on social: Instagram, Facebook

Resources: Procabulary, Mark’s TED Talk: Identity vs. Process: Reinterpreting Failure, Procabulary Instagram, Procabulary Facebook

Avery Wood has been on a path to heal from a chronic intestinal disease for the last 3 years, where she has been exploring every modality of healing she came across. Avery has a strong curiosity to understand everything that goes through the healing process, and realized with the help of medicine that her condition has to do with her emotional and physical states.

“It has been like a rest button, reminded me to slow down, and take care of myself on a day-to-day basis.” — Avery Wood

Mike felt like kambo was working from its way his taint to the top of his head. He felt heat coming up through his neck to his head, then down his arms, into his hands, and down to his belly. During the entire process he really focused on breath and softening his belly, as he felt sharp pain deep in his gut.

Mike felt like nothing is really a big deal after kambo. He noticed the amount of energy he has after a session is intense, but not like a cup of energy, else feeling bigger, like his capacity for life is enlarged. He felt like the experience from the medicine has transformed him in a permanent way, and he loved it.

“Pain x resistance = suffering. If you can bring down resistance to 0, then pain is just pain, and suffering does not exist.” — Mike Bledsoe

NEW SEMINAR!

The Strong Coach

The post The Bledsoe Show w/ Simon Scott: Burnt & Poisoned #77 appeared first on Shrugged Collective.

[tragicbooks]

Her life changed when she focused on self-care. Now she's helping others do the same.

<br>

In 1996, Tomasa Macapinlac was in her early 30s, very successful, and working for one of the tech world's biggest companies. She was also extremely exhausted.

15 years of grinding it out in corporate America had taken its toll. "I was working my butt off. I had two small toddler daughters. I was married at the time, so I had a lot of stuff going on," remembers Macapinlac.

No doubt, many Americans have felt these same burnout feelings, which can have real impacts on physical health. In fact, stressful jobs are a known cause of high blood pressure.

Image via iStock.

In Macapinlac's case, it was the severe exhaustion that hit her, and over time, she fell ill — so ill, in fact, that she could barely climb out of bed.

"I didn't know what was wrong with me," says Macapinlac. "I'm pretty strong immune system-wise, health-wise, and I could usually kick things out. But this time, I couldn't."

So Macapinlac went to a doctor and was told to get three days of bed rest. But even after that, nothing changed. "I got back up and I was still not well," she adds. "I wasn't well for a while."

Macapinlac knew she needed to make a change and start taking better care of herself.

She was on the lookout for solutions that would help her feel better. So when a co-worker approached her and suggested she visit a holistic practitioner, it piqued her interest, and she decided to check it out.

Image via iStock.

Once there, she got up on a table and immediately received some hands-on healing. "It's very similar to acupressure," describes Macapinlac. "It's like being a jumper cable and recharging someone."

When it was over, Macapinlac already felt better. "I said, 'I don't know what you did, but I'm coming back,'" she remembers. And that, she says, was just the beginning of her whole journey of self-care.

Since then, Macapinlac has taken the time to create a self-care ritual that works for her.

Image via Tomasa Macapinlac, used with permission.

Of course, everyone is different and self-care is going to vary from person to person. For some, it's about following a thorough daily routine. For others, it's as simple as not missing preventive care annual doctor visits to keep an eye on the four health numbers — blood pressure, cholesterol, blood sugar, and body mass index (BMI) — so they can take control of their health and hopefully prevent disease before they get sick. For Macapinlac, it was about finding ways to destress and eat well.

To do that, she adjusted her work hours, she followed some ancient healing practices, and she eliminated packaged, processed foods from her diet. She also gets in regular exercise by doing things she loves. "I jazz and hip-hop dance, and then I'll hike every day because I love being in nature," she says.

Image via iStock.

Her key finding was that balance in everything she does — from work to sleeping to working out — is crucial to her feeling healthy and happy.

Her daily rituals helped her get rid of her chronic body pain, fatigue, and nagging health issues, such as asthma and allergies. She also stopped losing energy early in the day and had much more time to be there for her daughters. (In fact, Macapinlac's rituals have inspired them to prioritize their own self-care.)

Image via iStock.

"I'm going to be 54 this year, and if you take a look at my latest pictures, I feel that I look much younger than I did in my 30s," Macapinlac explains with a chuckle. "A lot of people want to know where I get my energy from."

That's why Macapinlac continues her practice by helping others get through their own self-care challenges.

In fact, she eventually left the corporate world and became a holistic practitioner herself.

Image via Tomasa Macapinlac, used with permission.

"What I began to realize was that I'm really all about people taking care of themselves," she explains. "Because the truth is, when you take of yourself, then your glass is half-full, instead of half-empty."

"Then you can be there 100% for other people or whatever it is you want to focus on."

Today, she practices her own blend of ancient healing arts and she wrote a book entitled "30 Days to a Vibrant, Healthier, Younger You." Today, she is known to many as the "Self-Care Queen."

Image via Tomasa Macapinlac, used with permission.

Yes, different things will work for different people. But taking time to care for yourself — no matter how you do it — can help improve your health.

And if you don't know where to get started, you can always talk to a health care professional near you. Even something as simple as getting a health check to know your key health numbers can give you a good starting place when it comes to developing a self-care plan that works for you.

"I encourage everyone to find what’s right for them," says Macapinlac. Because that's what it's all about: taking the time to find a self-care ritual that works for you so that you can improve your health and well-being.

Image via iStock.

Learn more about how to take control of your health at http://ift.tt/2muelZA.

<br>

[socialviralnews]

Her life changed when she focused on self-care. Now she's helping others do the same.

<br>

In 1996, Tomasa Macapinlac was in her early 30s, very successful, and working for one of the tech world's biggest companies. She was also extremely exhausted.

15 years of grinding it out in corporate America had taken its toll. "I was working my butt off. I had two small toddler daughters. I was married at the time, so I had a lot of stuff going on," remembers Macapinlac.

No doubt, many Americans have felt these same burnout feelings, which can have real impacts on physical health. In fact, stressful jobs are a known cause of high blood pressure.

Image via iStock.

In Macapinlac's case, it was the severe exhaustion that hit her, and over time, she fell ill — so ill, in fact, that she could barely climb out of bed.

"I didn't know what was wrong with me," says Macapinlac. "I'm pretty strong immune system-wise, health-wise, and I could usually kick things out. But this time, I couldn't."

So Macapinlac went to a doctor and was told to get three days of bed rest. But even after that, nothing changed. "I got back up and I was still not well," she adds. "I wasn't well for a while."

Macapinlac knew she needed to make a change and start taking better care of herself.

She was on the lookout for solutions that would help her feel better. So when a co-worker approached her and suggested she visit a holistic practitioner, it piqued her interest, and she decided to check it out.

Image via iStock.

Once there, she got up on a table and immediately received some hands-on healing. "It's very similar to acupressure," describes Macapinlac. "It's like being a jumper cable and recharging someone."

When it was over, Macapinlac already felt better. "I said, 'I don't know what you did, but I'm coming back,'" she remembers. And that, she says, was just the beginning of her whole journey of self-care.

Since then, Macapinlac has taken the time to create a self-care ritual that works for her.

Image via Tomasa Macapinlac, used with permission.

Of course, everyone is different and self-care is going to vary from person to person. For some, it's about following a thorough daily routine. For others, it's as simple as not missing preventive care annual doctor visits to keep an eye on the four health numbers — blood pressure, cholesterol, blood sugar, and body mass index (BMI) — so they can take control of their health and hopefully prevent disease before they get sick. For Macapinlac, it was about finding ways to destress and eat well.

To do that, she adjusted her work hours, she followed some ancient healing practices, and she eliminated packaged, processed foods from her diet. She also gets in regular exercise by doing things she loves. "I jazz and hip-hop dance, and then I'll hike every day because I love being in nature," she says.

Image via iStock.

Her key finding was that balance in everything she does — from work to sleeping to working out — is crucial to her feeling healthy and happy.

Her daily rituals helped her get rid of her chronic body pain, fatigue, and nagging health issues, such as asthma and allergies. She also stopped losing energy early in the day and had much more time to be there for her daughters. (In fact, Macapinlac's rituals have inspired them to prioritize their own self-care.)

Image via iStock.

"I'm going to be 54 this year, and if you take a look at my latest pictures, I feel that I look much younger than I did in my 30s," Macapinlac explains with a chuckle. "A lot of people want to know where I get my energy from."

That's why Macapinlac continues her practice by helping others get through their own self-care challenges.

In fact, she eventually left the corporate world and became a holistic practitioner herself.

Image via Tomasa Macapinlac, used with permission.

"What I began to realize was that I'm really all about people taking care of themselves," she explains. "Because the truth is, when you take of yourself, then your glass is half-full, instead of half-empty."

"Then you can be there 100% for other people or whatever it is you want to focus on."

Today, she practices her own blend of ancient healing arts and she wrote a book entitled "30 Days to a Vibrant, Healthier, Younger You." Today, she is known to many as the "Self-Care Queen."

Image via Tomasa Macapinlac, used with permission.

Yes, different things will work for different people. But taking time to care for yourself — no matter how you do it — can help improve your health.

And if you don't know where to get started, you can always talk to a health care professional near you. Even something as simple as getting a health check to know your key health numbers can give you a good starting place when it comes to developing a self-care plan that works for you.

"I encourage everyone to find what’s right for them," says Macapinlac. Because that's what it's all about: taking the time to find a self-care ritual that works for you so that you can improve your health and well-being.

Image via iStock.

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