#I too am massively overwhelmed by everything that's goin on

[theboredbori]

I've seen a lot of people over on twitter talk ab how fast paced this whole season is, especially there last two eps, and how we rlly should've gotten 10 eps (and fuck yea we should've, I would never say no to more of these fuckers pls MAX y'all better give s3 a good runtime at least) but honestly I feel like the pacing kinda makes sense, if you're looking at the story from Ed's point of view.

We've heard Ed say "this shit is going way too fast" twice now and I actually kinda enjoy being able to relate to him bc of it, bc yea the whole story is going a mile a minute and I completely understand him being overwhelmed by the whole thing bc same, bestie. My guy can't keep up with the speed everything around him is going at (after yknow, being left behind and then in a months long drunken rage/depression/whatever else happened there and then fucking Dying? And suddenly being reunited with the guy who left him who's acting like it's all okay, more or less) so I bet everything that's going on in his head is just ab as chaotic and messed up as everything we see on screen.

That being said, how they're going to wrap this mess up in 30 minutes next week I have no clue, it's either gonna be unhinged as fuck or they're gonna pull an extra ep out of thin air who knows

[primedirection]

Anniversary

Stans mob you on your anniversary

Warnings: Angst

"Goin' off like that' was completely unnecessary, I had it under bloody control!" Harry gripes slamming the front door behind him.

The loud noise is the last straw that sparks your anger all over again. If not for the absolute bullshit he was spewing, "Had I not said anything they would've been sitting at the table with you while still on top of me! You never speak up and I'm tired of it!" You shout so angry your breathing became labored.

For a moment that's all that is heard from inside the house as if a bomb went off. The tension so thick in the air it was maddening. All that remains when the dust settles is two strangers glaring at each other from across the room.

To say that this was not how the night was supposed to go would be a massive understatement. Everything was perfect until dinner. Harry made reservations at your favorite restaurant, got you the best table, set the perfect mood. But of course right after you ordered he'd been spotted by a group of girls. You hoped that they would be polite enough to atleast wait until you finished eating.

Nope!

As a matter of fact they didn't even give him the chance to decide. You watched on in horror from over your shoulder as they literally swarmed your table. Barging and barreling over one another screaming just to get close to him, and somehow in the process you got swept into it.

The most infuriating part wasn't that one minute you were sitting across from Harry and in the next you're hit from behind hard enough to be knocked on the ground. But that even as they continued to walk all over you Harry didn't notice your missing presence, too busy posing for pictures with the very demons. It's wasn't until you got back up, used excessive force through the wild mini mob, and shared a few choice words that he even remembered you. And for some unfathomable reason, maybe he was hit in the head too, he decided that you were the one in the wrong.

Bringing you to this point now.

"And I'm tired of yeh acting like a raving lunatic whenever something doesn't go your way." He mutters, yanking his arms from his suit jacket in frustration.

"Lunatic? Oh, so I should be okay with all these girls basically shoving their fucking phones down your throat, flirting with you in front of me, and grabbing you inappropriately? Forgive me for wanting a decent moment of normalcy with my boyfriend on our anniversary."

"They were just excited! For Christ sake, yeh were like that last week at Whole Foods when yeh thought that guy was Jason Mamoa." Harry plants himself on the sofa to remove his beloved Gucci shoes properly.

"Well I wasn't going to beat up his wife for the sake of a picture!" You argue.

"Of course not because yeh never do anything wrong, hmm? You're absolutely perfect?"

"Compared to those vultures I am,"

Harry makes a quick pass of his fingers through his scalp, "Oh piss off, if that were true I'd be able to— yeh know what never mind.."

Your hearing perks like a dog waiting on a treat. Surely he was aware of the trench he was digging himself right? "You'd be able to what, H? Go on say it!"

"No, jus' forget it. Don't wanna hurt your precious feelings," He grumbles slouching back into the cushions and picking up his phone. In not so many words dismissing you.

In the process irking your nerves in a way that you weren't prepared for causing you to stand directly before him and shout, "Well clearly my feelings don't matter when it comes to your rabid ass stans! You'll let them walk all over you without a peep and the moment I say something- in your defense- that rubs them the wrong way, you take the gloves off and attack me for it! But go ahead, go ahead and say what you were going to fucking say!"

Harry knows that you're upset and understandably so, but when you start to curse at him he can't help but take it personally. Dropping his phone in his lap to glare at you heatedly, "Alrigh'. Next event I have, whether it be a show or premiere or just walking on a fucking carpet! I want yeh to remember this, remember the way you're acting. Because it's exactly why I don't like bringing yeh anywhere!"

"If going with you means being okay with ungrateful people treating you any kind of shitty way just to save face, or having to watch you be unnecessarily buddy buddy with your exes to keep their careers relevant, with my own two eyes, then I don't want to fucking go anyway!" You seethe.

"With an attitude like tha' why would I even want yeh to be there?"

At this point despite being furious your feelings were hurt more than anything. For Christ sake you'd literally been assaulted! Why is this discussion like talking to a brick wall? Like screaming at the top of your lungs in room full of people and yet no one is listening. Nonetheless the love of your life, it's nothing short of disheartening. Your eyes begin to burn from the prick of oncoming tears but you refuse to let them get the best of you, "You know what, if you are so ashamed of me having a backbone then why are you even with me?"

Harry rolls his eyes throwing his hands up exasperated, "Oh my God here we go! Spare me the victim shit, yeh knew exactly what yeh were coming into. There's no excuse fo' being an asshole Y/N."

"Are you like listening to anything I'm saying because that's not the point! I expected there to be wild shit to deal with and I put up with a lot of that shit for you cause I love you! But if you're not even going to defend me when it counts then what's the point?"

Perplexed Harry sits up and leans forward resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers frowning. "So who am I supposed to defend yeh from exactly? The people that have literally done everything for me and put me in the position I'm in? I'm supposed to fight them?"

"You're supposed to fight for me!" You shout suddenly overwhelmed by his petulance— chest heaving, "You're supposed to protect me!"

Harry sighs heavily but his gaze is rendered by indifference, "But yeh weren't in any real danger, I was right there—"

Frustration licks up your spine like the crack of a whip, "Do you think that I just got down on that floor by myself? They literally knocked me off my seat and trampled all over me like a fucking stampede, Harry!"

"Yeh know what," With a peeved scratch of his temple Harry is suddenly louder than he's been all night. Tone short and unwavering, "This isn't going anywhere can we just drop this already? Please. M' sorry it happened love, truly am, but it was a bloody accident. Yeh already cussed them out and we're home now. I honestly don't know what else to say."

If you weren't burning with a fire of the sun on the inside at that, then you surely would have come to tears. Not even just weeping tears, but full out ugly sobbing. How could he even dare to say that?

From then on you're on autopilot barely holding the crippling despair at bay, "Sure."

Harry doesn't waste time changing the subject. Popping onto his feet and scrolling through his phone once more. Apparently he pulled up a menu earlier, "Thank God. M' starving think I'll get some take out,"

In a shitty attempt to ease the tension, Harry distances himself in the kitchen to place his order. Meanwhile you find yourself in the bedroom closet, throwing all your hanging belongings into the overnight duffel bag you'd initially brought them in.

If someone told you this was how your anniversary would go you would've never believed it. The man you've grown to love completely diminishing your feelings.

You don't hear from him for another several moments, and that's when you reappear dressed down in sweats in the main sitting room. Your bag tossed over your shoulder, the sharp pain from the weight of it made it clear that your adrenaline was running low. "Baby I didn't get the lo mein- what are yeh doing?" Harry frowns hard in confusion.

Grabbing your car keys from the rack you hardly stop to acknowledge him, "I don't think I'm cut out for all the bullshit Harry,"

He forces himself in front of your path to the door, "Don't be ridiculous, it's our anniversary!"

"What's ridiculous is you being annoyed at me for feeling violated." You try to side step him but he moves right along with you.

Now enraged himself, "Are-are yeh fuckin' kidding me right now? Yeh wan' to leave me over an accident? A bloody accident Y/N?"

"I cannot spell it out for you more than I already have. If you don't see the problem then I really don't see a reason to stay." You shrug with all the indifference that he'd displayed to you before.

Eventually you get past, and unbeknownst to you his panic sets in. Snowballing the further and further you move away from him. It forces him to make the shallowest attempt at calling your bluff. "Fine, if yeh wanna leave then leave, I don't give a shit!"

Unfortunately for him you don't fall for it, "Knew that already, when I had mud holes stomped into me." Storming out without so much as a glance back and slam of the door.

Behind the barrier your facade had come crashing down like the tears that overran your cheeks. In alarming pain all over but more so from within the inside. Nevertheless you got in your car and kept going.

All the while Harry was not too far kicking himself. Wishing he could redo the last hour of this horrible night, "Fuck!"

AN: Sorry it's been awhile, I hope you enjoy this one! Xx. Part 2

[meetevieinthehallway]

something i dreamt translated to this blurb and i wrote it just as i woke up so i wouldn’t forget it; i’m sorry it is messy:

in which harry and lovie are best friends—but are in love with one another—and he comes to her doorstep at two am.

-

red is such an angry color.

fire, intensity, vigor, malice, hell, blood, bleeding—

his knuckles are bleeding.

they’re painted red, smeared with blood and she doesn’t know what to say.

she can’t even think of how to say anything.

he’s staring at her with a helpless gaze— cuts and bruises littering his cheekbones and the skin around his watering eyes, and his frame is shaking in his own stance.

“h-...harry? what the— holy fuck...— come inside now.”

and she drags him inside and his body is heavy and lethargic and his eyebrows are furrowed in pain and his hand is clutching at his opposite forearm.

“love—”

“what the fuck?”

she’s flipping on a light switch and he’s shaking his head and she’s pulling him directly under the light above their heads.

“what happened?!”

he swallows and he’s crying and he’s trying to hold back his sobs but he can’t— not when he’s still tipsy and not when he’s standing in front of her and she’s looking at him with worry.

“i-i—...”

she’s shaking her head and her hands start to attempt to pry his fingers away from his arm and she’s drinking in the red stains decorating his skin and his clothes and she doesn’t want to know who’s it is—

“’s a bar fight.”

“fuck.” her hand palms at her own forehead as she sheakes her head back and forth. “do i need to take you to the hospital?”

“no... no no no,” he’s mumbling and shaking his head and he thinks he’s getting woozy because his breathing is picking up speed.

“harry—”

he’s shrugging her away because his head is beginning to spin— and she’s trying to grasp some sort of hold on him but he’s slipping away and shaking his head and breathing heavy and his hands are shaking as his throat bobs.

his head hurts.

well, everything hurts— but the extremity of his pulsing head and the emotions secreting from it are more intense than any busted lip or bruise on his arm.

but he’s here.

he’s here and his head is swimming with her voice and if he’s going to pass out it wouldn’t be the worst thing for that sound to be the last thing he hears.

“h, let me help you—”

he’s mumbling—incoherently—looking down at the floor and around the room and she keeps walking closer to him and he’s pulling away slightly.

“harry.”

her voice sounds underwater.

it’s wobbly and warped and he feels her hands come up to hold his cheeks and he inhales sharply; her touch is igniting his nerves.

“can you hear me, h?”

he nods slowly, releasing the air he took in in a slow exhale and his arms slowly drop to his sides. underneath where his palm laid on his arm is a massive bruise—yellow and blue and green and red— and she’s staring at it with wide eyes before swallowing.

“can i kiss you?”

he says it clearly and wobbly and he opens his eyes to look at her with a pained gaze and watery eyes and she freezes.

“w-what?”

“can i..” he’s shaking his head at her and he skims her face before his eyes fall to her lips, “please, can i kiss you?”

her eyes are blown wide and her eyebrows are lowered over them and she doesn’t understand what or why he’s saying this—

“harry, what?”

“i want to kiss you.”

his hand moves up and lays on hers, his cheek now leaning into both of their hands and his breath stutters in emotion when he exhales.

“i—... you’re... hurt.”

he only shakes his head and looks down and sucks his lip gently into his mouth.

“please.”

he whispers it.

she stares at him.

his eyes are watering and his lip is painted red.

she doesn’t understand-- doesn’t know anything. all she knows is that his knuckles are bleeding and dripping on her floor and that she’s wanted him to ask her that for fucking years.

he can read her eyes through this haze, and it’s like he launches himself at her.

he rushes to bend down towards her the second he gets the slightest confirmation and his hands are holding her cheeks as he sinks his lips onto hers.

and she’s kissing him.

and he’s kissing her and it only makes him more dizzy but he doesn’t care and he hates that the first taste she gets of him will taste metallic and wet and that his lips are shaking.

she pulls away with a soft noise and his lips chase hers and his nose bumps into hers and she sighs as her hands run around his middle.

her eyes are glistening up at him and she pulls her face back a bit and he sighs.

“i—...”

he swallows and pulls his head back, but his thumbs are still trembling as they run up and down her cheeks.

“i’m in love with you.”

harry speaks clearly for the first time since he arrived.

“i... i am so fuckin’ in love with you that i... i think i’m goin’ crazy.”

her eyes are wide.

“couldn’t sit at the bar and think about you anymore, had to tell you.” he swallows, “i love you.”

her mouth guppies, and she doesn’t know how to respond— she can’t comprehend what is going on.

“and your... your asshole ex was there, a-and he just...”

harry stands to his full height and his right hand falls to her shoulder. then he furrows his eyebrows. “he’s never really liked me, remember? a-and i—... he was saying things to me, about me— but about you, too. a-and,” he gets choked up on his emotions and swallows, and looks away and down, “and... because i—... it’s you, and, i couldn’t let him—”

he breaks off with the shake of his head and an exhale, “’m not even making sense.” he whispers, and his thumb swipes her skin one more time before his hand falls to the side of her neck. “just, had to tell you. even if you don’t—”

“—i love you.”

he’s frozen now and his mouth parts, and he meets her eyes. “you...”

“i...” she chuckles desperately, “i’m so... overwhelmed. but...” her hand brushes a hair off his forehead. 

his eyes don’t know where to look. “really?”

she nods slowly, mouth parted because she’s completely enraptured and shocked and overwhelmed. “really.” she breathes it, arms tightening around his waist.

he doesn’t know what to say.

so he leans down,

and kisses her again.

and his lips don’t tremble this time.

[lothirielswanmarvel]

FACING GALACTUS: Avengers x Guardians of the Galaxy x X-Men (movie versions)

Word Count: 2904

Romantic interest: Thor (+ Star-Lord Love Triangle)

Summary: Our favorite Marvel heroes across cinematic franchises come together to battle the Destroyer of Worlds: Galactus.

—Character List: Movie Versions—

(NOTE: This list is provided because some Marvel characters may be referred to as their actual names, and not their hero titles. Also: two Fantastic Four characters were added to this sneak peak, but they may not be included/have a major role in the actual story.)

Reed Richards . . . Mr. Fantastic (member of Fantastic Four)

Shuri . . . Badass Princess of Wakanda (member of Avengers)

Susan Storm . . . Invisible Woman (member of Fantastic Four)

Scott Lang . . . Ant Man (member of Avengers)

Erik Lehnsherr . . . Magneto (member of X-Men)

Thor . . . Thor (member of Avengers)

Peter Quill . . . Star-Lord (member of Guardians of the Galaxy)

Mantis . . . Antennae Lady (member of Guardians of the Galaxy)

Steve Rogers . . . Captain America (member of Avengers)

Wanda Maximoff . . . Scarlet Witch (member of Avengers; relations with X-Men)

Sam Wilson . . . Falcon (member of Avengers)

Jean Gray . . . Dark Phoenix (member of X-Men)

Ororo Munroe . . . Storm (member of X-Men)

Carol Danvers . . . Captain Marvel (member of Avengers; relations with Guardians of the Galaxy)

Stephen Strange . . . Doctor Strange (Antisocial Sorcerer Supreme; relations with Avengers)

Evangeline Green . . . Angel (member of Avengers; relations with Guardians of the Galaxy)

Galactus . . . Galactus (Planet-eater. Douche of the universe. Do not engage under any circumstances)

—*—

I had three options. I was selfish, and I was a coward, so I chose the third.

“Just like Star Trek,” Reed Richards murmured at the control panel, next to Shuri.

“I’m more of a Star Wars guy,” Scott Lang said, stuffing his face with a peanut butter sandwich. To any other person, it was a harmless action. Innocent, even. In the dim lighting of the spaceship, all I could see was Scott’s jaw moving up and down. Destruction was rhythm. Crushing. Grinding into paste. Then he swallowed.

I shivered and turned away.

The first option was the simplest: killing myself. A few months ago, after the Moon Experience, stuck in space with no memories, I would’ve happily obliged. It would have been so easy. Quick, even. But I was selfish, and a coward. I chose the third.

Erik Lehnsherr and Susan Storm took up positions beside the massive machine. Their job was to keep the projector from becoming overwhelmed and obliterating us all.

His footsteps were loud. I felt his presence before his huge arms wrapped around me, holding me together like I would break into a million pieces if he didn't. Thor whispered softly in my ear, “You worry too much.”

Thor didn't really care who was around: he made it a known fact that we were together. I shook my head slightly, the back of my head brushing against his shoulder. “Can you blame me?”

“No. I don't blame you.” He was talking about more than just my nerves.

“Do you think I made the right decision?” I bit on my lip to keep it from trembling.

“I will support whatever decision you make,” Thor noted, pressing a kiss into my hair. “I don't like the thought of putting you in danger, but...I agree that there is no simple way to end this. It may be difficult, but I trust your judgement.”

“Do you really mean that, or are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“No—I will never lie to you, my love,” Thor assured me. I felt his hot breath against my ear. “However, I am starting to favor that dream of yours where you bail on everyone and flee to the realm called Mexico.”

I sighed, and tried to enjoy the comfort of his closeness. “Don't cross that one out yet. Wade said he had some extra sombreros in his apartment.”

Wanda Maximoff floated above the ground and landed near us. She looked out the large glass window that displayed the vast vacuum of space. She nodded to us. Her expression was steady, but in her eyes, I could see the terror. “He’s getting closer.”

People gathered about the machine. Wanda joined Jean Gray, Carol Danvers, and Ororo Munroe as they positioned themselves by the massive cannon-like structure.

Option two was to restrain my advanced manipulation of gravity that brought Him here. Weaken them. Weaken me. The people in this room detested the idea. They stood against it. I knew Stephen Strange didn't imply anything personal with the proposition, but I couldn't go along with it. I was selfish, and a coward. I chose the third option.

I spun around to face Thor. He cupped my face in his hands. They were strong, large, and warm. It broke my heart to drag him into this.

“If this doesn't work…” I started, knowing he wouldn't like the proposition I was about to make.

“Then we leave this world together.” Thor prompted. His confident yet swift answer shocked me.

“Wha—no! I refuse to drag you down into the fiery pits of hell with me—and I know that’s where I'm heading, I've stolen too much of Tony’s scotch that's not for company. If there is any possibility of you surviving…” I trailed off underneath the intensity of his cerulean eyes.

“Evangeline, I am not going anywhere. You are all I have left—”

“Your siblings are still alive.”

“But they’re annoying and depressing. They stab everything.” Thor’s expression turned foul for a minute, his thoughts traveling to Hela and Loki. He shook his head and returned to the present. “You are the light of my life—you are my life. I've already learned of a world where you don't exist, I don't wish to return to it.”

The last line sealed my lips. The last few months hadn't been kind to him. They weren't exactly a walk in the park for me. I looked down. Thor’s hands fell from my cheeks and captured my hands. He squeezed them gently.

“Together.” I repeated. “If we die, that's all I want.”

“So do I.”

“...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything.”

Thor raised my hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss on one, then the other. “None of this is your fault. And if this is the price to pay for a future with you, it's worth it.”

Thor’s hands returned to my cheeks and leaned down for a kiss. I tried to memorize every detail. The clash of his soft lips and the scratchy, ticklish feel of his beard. The hotness of his breath. Every detail of Thor’s exterior should’ve been rough and intimidating, but it was too soft, too gentle.

“I love you,” He murmured against my mouth. “Just remember, darling: the glass is half full.”

“Only if that glass is full of vodka, sweetie. I love you.”

He laughed against my lips, pulling me in for one last kiss. We broke apart reluctantly. Thor tucked a loose hair behind my ear, and joined the others by the machine.

Wanda and Scott stood together. They must’ve watched the exchange, like the infamous eavesdroppers they were. Together, they wore dubious looks.

I glared and did something that Wanda hated. WOW MY THOUGHTS ARE REALLY LOUD, SOUNDS LIKE I'M SHOUTING, GOOD THING NO ONE CAN HEAR ME.

Wanda flinched. Jean Gray tossed a scowl at me. Carol glanced between Wanda and I. “Are you guys doing a staring contest? I used to do those with Nick, I'm really good.”

“Nick Fury?” Scott asked.

“Yeah.”

“Woah. He lets you call him Nick? He doesn't even let me address him in public.”

“Hmm.” Carol stayed quiet, but her eyes widened as she turned away. Scott didn't miss this detail, and ate his sandwich with more intensity.

Peter Quill approached me next. He wasn't thrilled that after my four months spent in space with the Guardians, I rejoined my old life, specifically my giant of a boyfriend.

He stood two feet away, hands hanging casually around his belt buckle, but his shoulders were too stiff to be nonchalant.

“All the tech’s good to go.” Quill said.

My head tilted to the side. “You don't have to be here, Peter. I don't want you to risk your life because of me.”

“I want to.” He insisted. The way he said it reminded me of a kid. I smiled slightly, and Peter must’ve taken it as a good sign.

“I'm not goin’ anywhere. But...it's times like these that I wish I was still half god,” He mused.

We glanced out at the extended panel of stars. Night and light, mixed into one. Mystical and frightening. If I wasn't about to die, I might’ve found the display beautiful.

“It's a whole new world, Jasmine.” Peter replied. It was his hobby to nickname me after Disney princesses. I didn't feel like a heroine: I was dooming everyone on the ship.

“Unless you stole a genie lamp that can get us out of this mess, I don't want to hear it.” My tone was mocking, yet somehow I managed to smile.

Quill shook his head, reinforcing his hands around his waist. “Nah. But you know...if I got one wish…”

His face turned from the glass to me in a sly yet dramatic way. His gaze was trained on me. His expression was almost peaceful, day-dream like.

“...It would be to make that smile reach your eyes.” Peter replied softly.

I didn't know what to say. Thankfully, Reed Richards came to the rescue. “Star-Lord, we need you at this control panel.”

He winked at me as he backed away, and returned to the board of buttons. Sam Wilson glanced around the room, “We look good...as good as we’ll get. I think we’re ready.”

Erik’s fists tightened. “We will be.”

Jean Gray straightened. Her red curls fluttered around her elbows like thirsty flames. “It's time.”

Steve Rogers and Mantis appeared at my side as my moral support. I looked out the window, and I knew I would need it.

Option three was the most difficult, the most impossible. Galactus wanted me to become his new “Herald” for my manipulation over gravity. One incident—I barely made the planet move an inch—and I was being hunted across galaxies. I harbored these abilities for four months now, after the Moon Experience, and it felt like I was fully connected to myself, like there was an extra sense of reality that I was now tuned in to. I didn't want to dispose of them. I didn't want to die. I was selfish, and a coward. I was going to fight Galactus.

I knew He had arrived, because the lights in the sky were going out. Something was blocking our view of them—something colossal.

As the lights were snuffed out across the horizon, Mantis’ hand fell upon my shoulder. “Relax,” She said. Her tone was usually silvery and light, but now it was brittle and cracked with fear.

Steve held up his shield—everyone knew it was useless, but it was a failed attempt to calm my nerves.

“We are Vul-CANS, not Vul-CANTS,” Shuri sounded younger than before. “We can do this. Begin firing!”

They reacted in unison. Thor, Carol, Wanda, Ororo, Jean—all took aim at the massive machine in the center of the room. I looked away as the room was filled with light. My eyes burned, and dark splotches danced before my gaze as the brightness seared every surface. The air in the room was alive now, like electricity. My skin was riddled with bumps—from the fear or immense energy source, I couldn't tell which.

I watched the reflection of the spectacle on the glass. Erik and Susan had the most tortured expressions, hands outstretched, trying to keep the machine together under the stress of so much power. I unclenched my fists at my sides as pain overwhelmed my palms.

“It's not enough!” Reed shouted over the noise. Lightning crackled from Ororo and Thor. “Scott, deploy the Pym Particles!”

The machine roared out with distaste. Steve pulled Mantis and I close, his shield angled at the source of blinding light. Apparently, his discomfort with technology hadn't lessened. In this moment, I couldn't blame him.

I could feel the energy against my scalp and rushing across my cheeks. I glanced back at the window. Most of the stars were gone in the sky. It was just darkness now. Night and light were separated by the fragile glass barrier.

“They didn't do this in Star Trek!” Shuri cried out.

“Everything Zachary Quinto does looks effortless! We’re almost there, keep up the pressure!” Reed’s eyes were protected with thick sunglasses. His dark hair whipped about his face.

“Didn't Uhura dump his logical ass?” Sam shouted.

“He still has Kirk!”

“STAR WARS IS BETTER! STAR WARS NEVER PUT US IN A SITUATION WHERE WE ALMOST DIED!” Peter nearly screamed to be heard.

“STAR WARS NEVER HAD LEONARD NIMOY—SHUT UP AND DO YOUR JOB, QUILL!” Reed’s face was slick with sweat.

The entire ship started to groan. I was focused on our view of space. Two lights now flickered in the sky. They were perfectly aligned with each other.

He's here.

Erik’s reflection staggered. His arms remained up, but one knee touched the ground, and I could see veins popping out across his face. Ororo’s lips were spread apart, teeth clenched together as beams of electricity flashed from her fingertips.

Mantis’ touch couldn't stop my heart from staggering when my gaze flickered to Thor. He was doing alright...sort of. His face was shiny with sweat, but that wasn't the most concerning part. Jagged bolts of lightning protruded from his body and flashed across the interior of the ship, sending up a shower of sparks. Erik and Susan could barely handle the projector—could they keep the ship from tearing apart?

“NOW!” Reed Richards held onto the edge of the panel for support.

Shuri pulled a lever. Energy shot out of the projector, exploding across the dark canvas.

It was what the light illuminated that made me hesitate. The outline of the helmet was like the hands of God coming together, slightly caved in on themselves, but never meeting. The grooves of a face were sketched with light, creased but not wrinkled, and the rest was hidden by the massive helm, like it was shielding the being from any association with humanity. It was a face that asserted dominance, even cruel regalty, with two inhuman orbs that showed no emotion.

This was the cosmic terror that the Silver Surfer warned be about. This was the monster that left Xandar as a dust cloud. This was Galactus.

The ship had gone dead silent in the absence of the energy surge. Reed’s voice mustered me from my terror. “Evangeline! Now!”

Every action from that point on was instinctual. I was just an observer, floating out above my body watching the spectacle. I saw my arms rise in front of me, almost cupping the little speck of light in the sky. I focused on that tiny little pinpoint, pressing down against the laws of reality, imagining myself punching a hole in space.

I hoped I was doing this right. I never made a black hole before.

I caught a flicker of movement at my side. Wanda had moved to the window, crimson bands weaving between her fingers. Her second job was manipulating density. Susan joined us as we concentrated on our task.

My focus remained on the light. It started to shrivel, becoming smaller and smaller. I heard the hiss of someone’s breath. It sounded painful. I felt a new pressure pull down on my limbs as I continued to condense the tiny sun.

The small spark of light slowly shrank and melted from existence. An eternal horizon of night lay in its wake.

“Alright, that's enough. Scott, send in the rest of the Pym Particles. We need to get out of range—activate the teleporters, Quill.”

The voice sounded faint, blurry even, like it was submerged underwater. I think it was Reed’s.

It took a minute to will myself to stop. My role as an astral observer wore off and I reconnected with reality, feeling aches and pains. Susan collapsed on the floor.

Light consumed my skin and my surroundings vanished. We returned to the Grandmaster’s ship.

I winced at the brighter walls leaned on the nearest wall for support. Wanda lowered herself to the ground and lay flat, staring up against the ceiling. “I think...I’ll take that little yellow pill that Wade Wilson offered me a long time ago.”

I sank down to the floor next to her, sitting up against the wall. “Do you think I’ll get a neighbor discount?”

Thor’s boots appeared before me. I couldn't make my chin move up. He sat down next to me, wrapping a burly arm around my shoulders. His skin was usually hot, but it was blazing against the back of my neck. We communicated without words as I scooted closer to him and our fingers entwined.

Stephen Strange walked up to our party. “Did it work?”

Reed’s arm stretched out and clicked some of the buttons on the wall. The surface became reflective glass. “Let’s find out.”

I glanced over Thor’s hand at the endless night. It was too dark. Too deep, too terrifying. And those two orbs still penetrated the black veil, inching closer.

Thor’s quick reflexes shielded my eyes before the explosion of light hit. It was blinding and made my body freeze, like I was Cap stuck in the ice, numb. It was that moment in the movie theater when the music escalated unexpectedly in the dark and it made your heart skip a beat and you stiffened with terror.

The light faded. I turned, feeling Thor’s chest press against my back as we looked out at the result. Everyone was eager to see—even Wanda propped herself up on her elbows to witness the outcome.

“What...what is that?” Jean Gray was the only one standing besides our tech support. An eerie yellow shade made her porcelain skin glow.

“The event horizon,” Reed Richards answered, his words tinged with awe.

Shuri gasped. “I should add this to my story...that would really show my brother and his pathetic cat videos.”

Scott nodded dully. “Yeah...I’m never watching Star Trek ever again.”

Carol Danvers leaned forward, peering at the fiery ring at the center of space. “Hold on...I’ve seen black holes, and that is not supposed to happen.”

I felt Thor grow rigid behind me. Three words escaped my mouth. “Oh my God.”

The pitch black of the sky morphed into a magenta hue. The mass of color moved, seeming to swat at the black hole.

The swarming mass dissipated.

The magenta background gave off it's own luminescence, and the face of Galactus reappeared. His expression was still neutral. Undaunted.

“Holy shit…” I heard Peter say. “What now?”

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

Author's Note: Hi Awesome Adventurers, thanks for reading! I’ve been playing around with the idea of this novel for awhile, but I’d like to hear personally from you guys before I start publishing actual chapters. But thank you so much for reading, and please, if you enjoyed this, I’d love to hear from you! If I do start hearing from people, I will post this story on Tumblr, Archive of Our Own, and Wattpad. Your words are powerful, and I’d love to hear them c: love, fortune and glory to you!!

*Also, a few other things on this chapter: I included the Fantastic Four, but it is highly unlikely that they'll have a huge role in this series: they're just kinda thrown in here for the hardcore Marvel fans and to poke fun at Chris Evans. I also consulted a relative of mine with a physics degree, including my own research done on the topic, for this chapter. I know it's not the most perfect theory, but the idea came to me and I thought it would be cool to do! Thanks for reading!

[sanguinesprout]

Thunderstorms and rainbows all around! (Job things, update blah, perfectionism sucks and what even is communication)

Pheeeew! The past month has been a lot more busy and stressful but I’m finally kinda getting myself closer to getting a job! So I actually managed to apply to 6 jobs so far! Six! I mean, to most people that’s probably nothing, but that’s a lot for me that would normally only apply to like... 1 or probably nothing lol @w@” So yay and keep going me! ^^ I’m really thankful to my sis for encouraging me, even though she loses her patience sometimes, but I really am such a weenie baby x.x

1 job rejected my application, 2 jobs I didn’t hear from, 1 I only just applied to (which is actually the same as the very 1st one I applied to last time, hah!) and 2 I did hear from. Those two are ones set by recruitment agencies and are warehouse/factory type jobs where they hire in bulk. They both don’t have any formal interviews or anything like that but they had this registration form filling kind of appointment. I mean, it wasn’t retail like I was aiming for, but maybe this would actually suit me better maybe? Baby steps!

I decided not to do one of the two that I heard from (a warehouse one) because it was too far away and also it sounded too physically demanding for me. The second (factory) I’ve been debating whether to go through with or not for like two weeks since I’ve been accepted because my health problems may make it unsuitable for me, but there’s gonna be an induction day sometime soon hopefully and maybe I can make a good decision then. Travel to the second job is much less a hassle than the one I rejected too, here’s hoping it’ll be okay! And if I never try I won’t know!

The one I applied for today... it’s retail just like the others I unsuccessfully applied for, I wonder if I’ll be successful this time, who knows! I feel it’d be a much better way to grow and learn to face people even better and would definitely be much more varied than the factory job which is just robot-like repetitiveness but that may be more comfortable in regards to predictability. Either way I’m gonna have to start talking to at least co-workers and stuff, ahhh I’m nervous, but I need to get outta my comfort zone! Onwards!

Until then, gotta keep applying and trying, maybe neither of these will be suitable or possible, or maybe I’ll find something even more awesome! It’s both really scary and kinda exciting. I want to finally show some independence, that I’m capable of working and talking to people and most of all help my family some, because right now and well, for ages we have been struggling and there’s alotta stressful stuff happening for them >< C’mon, I can do it!!

In general other stuff, I am almost at the end of my online course thing!! I wouldn’t have expected to get here but it’s all because of my sis helping me out a lot ;w; I can’t help but feel I’m being bad ahhh like I’m a super law abiding kind of person, I feel like I’m cheating! But then again the course material is impossible to complete with only my noob knowledge, it was false advertising! W/e when the course is done I hope I never have to do another like that again!

Uhhh anyways, besides that ball of stress I actually managed to do some more baking with my sis and sewing and it was all kinda last minute stuff, which usually freaks me out! I mean, I kinda got moody and needed some persuading by my sis but I did it!! :D I went shopping a bunch and didn’t feel too anxious except for that ‘oh no, I didn’t buy anything, now the shop people will think I’m stealing’ kind of paranoia... I’m slowly kinda getting over it, it’s just having that open shopping bag clunking around on my shoulder with stuff from a previous shop makes me extra nervous around staff OTL. It’s okay, think more rationally! There’s nothing wrong with not buying anything! Plenty of people do this and are fine!

There were also some important family days, but Idk why... I was really irritable and moody and messed one of them up and had a massive falling out with my sis. She said a lot of harsh things and I was being kind of cold and unresponsive but also critical, there was crying and anger on both sides. I guess my depressive feelings just got too deep and I was getting to cooped up and stressed in my head to be able to think or do anything else... I had been feeling even more low those few days, it was my fault. It’s just so difficult to control sometimes, but I gotta keep trying to stay out of my head, quit overthinking and falling into the negative and keep it that way some more.

Anyways, we managed to reconcile some while later and everything and the rest of the days were good! I bonded with my family with a game of charades, which they were reluctant to play at first, but warmed to it and smiled and laughed a lot! The things I baked and sewed were for them and it made them happy too! It was nice, I was happy too, I hope there will be more times like this more often! c:

In regards to blog stuff and art stuff, it really hasn’t gone anywhere yet still. I’m hoping that when I get the job thing sorted, maybe I will feel less guilty about doing things like that which I consider as leisure stuff. But is this unreasonable? I don’t want to keep pushing it back and delaying it but I just feel too overwhelmed, it’s like I can only focus on one thing at once, but I know I am capable of doing more..! I just need to push myself!

I also keep being too much of a perfectionist, it was even a big part of the reason I had a falling out with my sis :c I’m so critical of myself all the time and others sometimes, it’s just so frustrating and incomprehensible. I’m so scared of doing things wrong or imperfect, it’s definitely unreasonable and unrealistic of me to keep thinking this way ;^; It’s so hard to just ignore these feelings. It’s really hard to get me to do something in the first place, I’m just giving myself unnecessary grief. 

Failing and flaws are part of learning, I’m setting myself too high expectations, I need to not be so hard on myself. What I’m doing is just fine, as long as I keep going, I’ll keep improving! If something doesn’t go so well this time, then I’ll just do it again next time but better! I’ll try to keep these in mind more!

I haven’t really been interacting with anyone or commenting at all in general other internet-ness which is well, not so good. I hope I can become comfortable enough to do things like commenting and following people and posting soon! Hoping probably isn’t good enough though, it’s all about foregoing the comfort zone again and just doing! I’m too ashamed of myself ahh

Oh! To the lovely person that liked and left a small but kind comment on my last post, even though you probably won’t see this, I want to say thank you!! When I did see it later on, it really made me smile! <3 

I guess this must be how people feel when I gave them comments in the past, it really is motivating! Giving someone a smile is definitely much better than giving in to fear!

I feel really bad because this one online friend that popped up since last time, I made sure not to just ignore them but I’ve kinda been less responsive to them... in the hope they message less frequently at least... gah! Idk... I feel kinda uncomfortable that they tried to speak to me everyday, like I had nothing new to say to them and it made me feel even more anxious. Even more so when they tried to compliment and get closer to me... ack! *sirens blaring*

Though I have had a lot on my plate to do and think about lately and I’ve told them this many times and I have been polite and friendly to them... I’m just scared I’ll come off to them as a jerk but I just kind of want some space and it really just ahhhh idk how to respond? My own awkwardness and inability to just communicate without freaking out is killing me..! Am I being unreasonable here?? T^T;;; OTL OTL OTL

Hm, I think that’s enough of my derpy flailing for today, I’ll stop here but Imma keep goin irl! Yeah, do the stuff!! Go go go! 

After a thunderstorm a rainbow can appear, and one really did the other day!

May everyone see rainbows after their thunderstorms too! Good things can follow times of struggle or great effort!

Let’s go be productive and be good to ourselves! 

Have a great week! ^^

[rfsak2]

Cactus, A Blurb

I had another blurb-ish idea. Again, kinda separate from whatever plot I may (may not) have going on. First section is expanding on the very first chapter of Cactus, second and third are in LA post-Jamaica.

Cactus, A Blurb Summary: What attracts. The Styles Warnings: Discussion of drug use and past traumas. PTSD from childhood trauma.

She knew better than to walk into a recording session with expectations. She knew better than to expect anything of anyone in Hollywood.

She would either be disappointed or she would make a fool of herself.

Every time.

Though to be fair, every other time she’d walked in only to walk out disappointed, they’d been personal heroes, people she wanted to impress. She’d wanted to pick their brains and learn from them. NOT aggressively make out with them.

They were mostly old men and her expectations were of a musical nature.

Harry Styles was a whole different beast.

Harry Styles was Her Type™ and she knew it. Between the hair and the tattoos and the pretty eyes, there was the chance that she would be in deep shit.

She needed to be careful if she wanted to make it out of this okay.

So she was walking in expecting one of two things. Either he was a colossal asshole and she was safe or he was nice and she spent the whole recording period constantly on watch, guarding herself against catching feelings and making everything awkward and horrible.

She half-hoped he was an asshole. It would be cleaner. Get the work done, make Jeff happy, bank that commission and go on about her life with zero complications.

No muss and, sure as hell, no fuss.

She grabbed her guitar and pushed the clicker for her Jeep. Adjusting her sunglasses as the Jeep beeped, she shoved her keys into her bag and made for the door.

One hand in her jean jacket, she paused at the security desk.

“Howzit, Jamie?” Jay was the youngest of the four security guards at Columbia and a generally cool dude, probably trying in the music business just like everyone else.

She smiled. “It’s good, bro. What’s up with you? Last we talked you were dating some new chick.”

He shrugged. “She was… she was bit weird. Just strange I guess.”

“So is everyone else in LA. Welcome to reality.”

“Yeah, but…” He sat up straighter as a lanky man carrying a guitar pushed through the doors, looking confused. “Hey, man. Can I help you?”

She side-stepped and just watched as the man set the guitar down at his feet. “Hey, I’m here to help with Harry Styles’ album… I think.”

“ID?”

The man passed his driver’s license over and she pulled up Jeff’s text on her phone. She leaned against the counter and smiled. “Mitch Rowland, right?”

The guy started, pushing some of that thick brown hair out of his face. “Yeah. You are?”

She stuck her hand out. “Jamie Schwartz. I’m a guitarist with the label. I was asked to come help too.”

He sighed, audibly relieved. “So you know what the fuck is goin’ on?”

Chuckling, she turned to Jay. “He clear?” Jay nodded and handed Mitch back his ID as she motioned down the hallway. “First studio gig?”

He grabbed his guitar and nodded. “Yeah. I’m still not sure how it happened. Ryan, my roommate-”

“Ryan Nasci?”

“Uh.. yeah. You’ve worked with him then?” She nodded. “Yeah, apparently they had another guitarist lined up but he couldn’t make it, so Ryan called me.”

“Yeah. Heard about that.” She shrugged. “Jeff called and said they could use some more help. Apparently this album is going to be guitar-heavy. Wanted another set of hands.”

“Yeah. I’d imagine so. Harry seems to be really into the 70s. Big into Fleetwood Mac and the Stones... the Beatles.”

She was impressed, she could admit it. He would have good taste in music, just her luck.

She pressed the call button for the elevator and turned to him. “Cool. We’ll get along just fine then. You? What do you like?”

He shrugged. “Like the 60s, I guess. The Doors, Jimi Hendrix-”

“Love Jimi.” He followed her into the elevator, both guitarists standing their guitars up by their feet. She pushed the button for the floor. “Zeppelin?”

He seemed to feel more comfortable and he smiled. “Yeah… I like all of that.”

“This is going to be fun then.” She stepped out of the elevator and led him down the hall. “Good. I’m gonna be honest, I was a bit worried.”

“Me too.” Mitch took a deep breath. “But Harry’s like really cool. Solid dude.”

“He’s nice, then?” She opened the door to the conference room they were using for this meeting and nodded at Jeff and Ryan, already seated at the table.

“I would say so.”

She smiled at Mitch. “Mitch, Ryan, you know. This is Jeff Bhasker. Jeff, this Mitch Rowland.””

Mitch stuck his hand out. “Good to meet you.”

He sat next to Ryan and she set her bag in her chair and propped her guitar up against the table. She briefly debated taking her jacket off, before simply rolling the sleeves up and leaning over to pull her mug out of her bag. “I’m making tea. Anyone want anythin’?”

Mitch wanted coffee and she returned with her tea, a new blend sent to her by her friend in London, and passed Mitch his coffee.

“That smells weird.”

She nodded. “It’s supposed to be smoky, I think?... My friend sent it to me. Figured I’d try it.”

“Smoky?”

Laughing, she offered her mug to him. He shook his head and she sipped at the still very hot liquid.

“How’s it?”

She pushed her hair off her face. “It is smoky.. A bit weird but I don’t half-mind it.”

“Wha’s that?”

It didn’t take her very long to come to the conclusion that she was totally screwed.

He was nice.

He made comfortable eye contact with whoever was speaking. He smiled and responded and generally acted like he was paying attention, like he cared about what was happening.

He was excited, engaged and enthusiastic, which was more than could be said about 75% of the acts she’d worked with.

There was also a sort of like shy, reserved nervousness about him that she found endearingly humble.

And he was fuckin’ gorgeous. More so in person then she’d expected.

Of course he was.

She took a deep breath as his eyes (green, so green) caught hers.

“Do y’want more tea, love?”

She wanted to melt.

Jamie adjusted the gauzy white fabric of her dress and crossed her legs, tilting her mug towards her. She shrugged. “I’ll grab some more later. Thank you.”

He grinned and stood, nabbing her mug with one of his massive hands.

She’d gladly curl up in that dimple and die a happy woman.

For Fuck’s Sake.

“I’ll get yeh some more water. I wanted coffee as it is.”

He ran his hands through his hair, shaking it out and then shoving it back from his forehead, and turned toward the door.

He was even broader from the back. Jesuchristo-

Her phone roared and she dug it out of her bag to silence it.

Jeff: Down girl.

She silenced her phone and discretely flicked him off.

**

She wrote her name in the sand and smiled down at where he lay on his back, staring up at the moon. He hadn’t really bothered to properly button his shirt (not unusual) and the silk gaped, showing off the defined muscles of his chest and the sharp line of his collarbone.

She wanted to trace her finger over the bone and dip her tongue in the hollow of his throat. She wanted to run her fingers over the swallows inked into his skin, memorize them the way she’d memorized her own.

He traced his fingers over the dogwood branch on her forearm, the symbol of strength and stability that reminded her that Jorge would always be there for her, a port in the storm that occasionally washed over her life.

“Tell me something about yeh. Anythin’.” He smiled and his hand drifted up and over the big, red maple leaf on the inside of her elbow.

Picking up the shell she’d found earlier, she winced, reaching for the beer that was aiding the word vomit that always seemed to happen when she was tipsy. She hated it about herself, the complete inability to stop the flow of words she didn’t want to say. She always ended up killing the mood.

“I’m terrified of drugs…” She blushed and made a vague motion with her hand. “Not like weed or anything… obvs. T-the hard shit…I guess. My birth mom was a heroin addict and I’m terrified that I’ll end up like her, strung out and useless. I worry constantly about it, but I’m also angry. Sometimes it’s overwhelming how fuckin’ livid I am with her. I don’t remember anything about her, don’t care to.”

She threw back a big swig of her beer. “I don’t remember what she looks like, what she sounded like but… I remember the smell of heroin.”

She made a helpless little hand motion, eyes on her floral converse. She tried to speak again, the words getting stuck in her tight throat. “I remember her johns and I remember the smell that clung t-to my hair and my cl-” She swallowed. “My clothes.”

Shushing her quietly, he grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckle, sitting up to rest his chin on her knee.

“One time, I was in a studio in Nashville and I was on my way to the bathroom and I could smell it… kinda came out of nowhere. It smells like vinegar… Like someone just dropped a whole bottle of really strong, white vinegar and just left it.  It was like all the years I spent in therapy had meant nothing.” She sucked in a stuttering breath. “I was in the bathroom for probably fifteen minutes, head in the toilet. It probably sounds so stupid. Lose my shit over a fuckin’ smell.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid. I swear.”

She smiled down at him. “Never did find out if someone was really doing smack or if they’d just dropped a jar of pickles or something. And I still don’t like pickles or most hot sauces. I’m a failure as a San Antonian.”

He kissed her knee. “1D gave me anxiety… or being famous made me anxious… probably more accurate. Maybe.” He chuckled listlessly and shrugged. “It shouldn’t have done. That should’ve been a dream come true, right? I was makin’ music, which I’ve always wanted to do. I was makin’ the kind of money that allowed me to provide for my family and live the kind of life everyone always says they want. I don’t feel like I should complain about it. Don’t feel like I have the right to complain.”

She leaned forward to kiss him chastely. “You have every right to complain.”

He met her eyes hesitantly and nodded, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “I loved a lot of the job, I did. I love makin’ music and performin’ and I love interactin’ with fans. I love the guys. They’re my brothers. But I hate havin’ to be suspicious of everyone. I hate that I can’t just be who I am. I have to be aware and I have to always edit myself and be careful about what I say to whom and how I say it. It’s so frustrating! I’m more me when I’m on stage then I’ve been off of it in the last five years. I used to have fun, to enjoy all of this, and now I’m just tired. I’m exhausted and I feel like I’ve been holdin’ on t’all of this.”

He sucked in a breath and she squeezed his hand, eyes on his. “I’m tired of never trustin’ anyone, of always knowin’ that someone is only lingerin’ around me on the off chance that it will help them. I’m tired of being treated like arm candy, like I’m one step above a fuckin’ cabana boy. And part of me knows that I set myself up for it every bloody time. I only have myself to bl-”

“That’s not true.” She shook her head.

“It feels true. The media thinks it’s true. If you ever say anything, it’s always ‘Well, you’re famous’, ‘You’re a public figure’, ‘You chose this’. I was sixteen. I never expected this. I was never prepared for this.” He huffed and shoved a hand through his hair.

“It’s a crock of bullshit.” She ran her hands through his hair, fingers chasing his and laid her forehead against his. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. That is not you. I’ve never felt that way with you. Thank you for that.”

She smiled. “Anytime. ‘Course. Thank you for not looking like you pity me or somethin’.”

“There’s nothing about you that’s pitiable. You know tha’, yeah? You’re so…” He clenched his fist and made a face. “You’ve got more spine than half of Hollywood. Honestly.”

She shook her head. “That’s not that hard, baby.” She thumbed at his temple, pushing short, sandy hair from his face. “You are easily the most genuine person I have ever met. I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone so quickly. I didn’t tell half… fuck, 99% of this shit to the dude in Nashville. Probably why he broke up with me.”

One of his big hands came up to cup her face. “His loss.” He kissed her softly. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ cry for him.” He smiled against her lips and nipped at her bottom lip. “Not gonna make the same mistake either.”

She chuckled and leaned forward to kiss him fully, slipping her tongue into his mouth as he laid back. She followed him down, his free hand in the small of her back kept her tight to him as they fell headlong into each other.

She let out a low groan and her hands smoothed down over his pectorals, finger massaging into smooth tanned skin. He gasped into her mouth as her fingertip ghosted over his nipple and she chuckled, doing it again with more purpose.

“You minx.” He grinned, pressing up against her, the hand still in her hair pulling her down to his eager lips and keeping her there.

“Minx.” She kissed him again, hands flattening over his chest, fingers idly tracing the swallows. “Never been called ‘a minx’ before.”

He licked at the roof of her mouth and the hand on her lower back, drifted down and squeezed. “Missed opportunity, tha’.”

She laughed and moved to mouth at his clavicle. Dipping her tongue into the hollow of his neck, she smiled. “You have gorgeous shoulders.”

He giggled. “Shoulders? Wha’? I don’t think I’ve ever been complimented on my shoulders before.”

She sat up, supporting herself with her hands in the sand, and shrugged. “Missed opportunity, that.”

He brought her back to his lips and smiled, hands slipping under her shirt to trail up her torso. He thumbed at her belly-button ring and her hips jerked against his. Grinning against her mouth, he whispered, “Wouldn’t have assumed I’d get that reaction.”

Jamie giggled. “I’ll have you know-” She gasped as he did it again.

“Wha’ was that, love?”

She captured his mouth in hot, open-mouthed kiss. “The navel is an erogenous zone.”

“So is watching such a pretty mouth say the word ‘erogenous’.”

She smiled. “Erogenous is a very scientific word, thank you very much.”

He groaned and rolled his hips up against hers. “Very erogenous.”

She gasped, her hips instinctively working against his. “We should probably go. Not good practice to have sex on a public beach in LA.”

“Good call.” He nodded and sat up to kiss her one last time.

**

Fuck Green Bay.

You take that back.

Absolutely not. Fuck. Green. Bay. Cowboys all the way.

The Cowboys suck.

Didn’t suck so much back in October, bitch.

Romo is fucking useless.

He’s just old. You leave him alone.

I can’t believe you have such bad taste. I thought you were a woman of taste…

Taste? I was raised this way. I bleed navy blue. YOU chose GB. Talking about taste.

Now you’re just being mean. I’m not sure we can be friends anymore...

Poor baby. However will I make it up to you?

Movie night at mine?

She smiled and cuddled under her blanket, biting her lip.

Well if I have to… I guess.

You said you want to make it up to me.

I did… What time?

It takes approximately twenty minutes to get from yours to mine… so twenty minutes. Get driving. I’ll open the gate and the garage for you.

I have to change…

No you don’t. Pajamas required. No primping allowed. And I’ll order take-away.

You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Styles.

Okie Dokie. Be there very soon.

Twenty minutes. I’ll give you thirty for traffic.

How magnanimous.

Fuck… I like it when you talk dirty to me. Keep going, love.

Haha. I’m getting in the car. See you in a bit.

The gate and the garage were both open as promised, so she pulled her Jeep in beside his Mercedes. He popped his head out of the door leading to the house and hit the button for the door.

“Hello, beautiful.” His smile was slow and soft as he walked around the front of her car. She found herself returning it, a light blush staining her cheeks.

She grabbed her phone, her keys and a tube of chapstick as he came to open her door. She stepped down, almost chest to chest with him- well chest to stomach, considering she wasn’t wearing heels.

“Not sure about beautiful, but I got here in twenty minutes.” She pulled at her Fender t-shirt and wiped suddenly sweaty hands on her brother’s old high school football sweats.

“Woman, yer fuckin’ gorgeous.” Leaning over, he kissed her softly. “Missed yeh.”

Part of her wanted to deflect with humor, to make this as casual as the non-title suggested it was, but…

Why pretend?

She didn’t want this with anyone else.

She smiled. “Missed you too.”

He grinned and kissed her again. “Even though we’ve been textin’ all day?”

“Even though you choose to root for the fuckin’ Green Bay Packers.” She plucked at the green t-shirt stretched across his broad chest.

He pulled away and frowned down at her. “Yeh can go, thank yeh.” He sniffed and headed for the door. “I’ll eat our Mexican food by myself.” He grinned back at her and tugged on her hand. “Yeh should go while yeh can.” He tugged on her hand again. “Yeh absolutely should not follow me into the house.” He opened the door with his free hand. “I’m very angry with yeh.”

She snickered and let him pull her into the house. She set her phone and her keys next to his on the table in the foyer. “What are we watching?”

He shrugged. “Dirty Dancing?”

“That’s fine.” She dropped onto the couch and smiled up at him as he carried the takeout into the living room. “Haven’t watched it.”

“Ever?”

“Nope.” Shaking her head, she unwrapped her taco. “I’m super impressed that you remembered what I ate at this place, even though we only went there that one time.”

“Good.” He hit play and grabbed his taco. “I like impressing you.”

Jamie looked away shyly. “Consider me impressed.”

“All the time?”

She blushed, eyes on the screen. “Generally speaking, yes.”

He grinned and bit into his taco.

Ten minutes later, she stood to throw the trash away, even though Harry insisted he would do it later. “Do you want somethin’ to drink?”

“Aren’t I the host? Should I be askin’ yeh that question?”

She shrugged. “Do you?”

“No, love. I want yeh t’come back quickly.” He grinned a dimpled, cheeky grin at her and winked.

With a smart salute, she turned on her heel, not missing the way his eyes lingered on her as she carried the trash into the kitchen. When she’d returned, not a minute later, he had laid back on the couch.

He held out his arms. “Cuddle me.”

She climbed over him, cheeks heating as his eyes skated brazenly over her breasts, down her stomach and down further to the junction of her thighs as she straddled him. She sucked in a breath as his eyes met hers, heavy-lidded.

She braced her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself until she was tucked against the side of his body and the back of the couch. Her thigh was still trapped between his, pressed against him intimately. She went to lift her leg over his knee, but he caught her, hand high on the back of her thigh. “Uh-huh.”

She looked back up and still. “Hmm?”

“Stay there.” He grinned. “Like you there.”

She blushed and tucked her head under his chin, arm stretched across his chest. “Alrighty then.”

He chuckled.

They were quiet, focused on the screen, but they were not still.

What had started as just his thumb rubbing softly at her side became, in incrementally bigger movements, more like petting. His hand smoothed down to her hip before running back up under her shirt.

Her hand found its way under his shirt, one finger idly tracing the curve of the laurel on his belly. Harry sucked in a deep breath, his chest expanding under her as his hand wandered, tracing back down over her spine. She shivered against him, her thigh rubbing at where he was growing hard against her thigh.

He stifled a groan and his hand started its return journey down her side, fingers dipping under the rolled waist of her sweats to skate over the lace waistband of her panties.

“Lace?”

His voice was all grit, his voice rumbling under her cheek as she smiled. “Yep.”

“Were yeh…” He swallowed. “Were yeh wearin’ those when I texted-”

“Nope.” She could feel her heart thundering in her chest, waiting on the response that would change the course of the evening, hopefully for the better.

He was still watching the TV, but his eyes weren’t fixed, weren’t focused. “Yeh put them on for me?”

Jamie nodded.

“Say it, love. Please.”

“Yes.”

He groaned deep in his chest. “Fuckin’ hell.” He pulled her fully on top of him, hand tangling in her hair as he kissed her fiercely. The hand around her waist wandered back up her side, trailing over permanent brilliant color then rubbing along the lace of her bra. “Matches?”

She bit her lip and nodded and he smiled widely. He kissed her again, his hips pressing his erection up against her. “So sexy. So.” He kissed her. “Fuckin’.” Another kiss. “Sexy.”

She smiled against his mouth and pushed at the hem of his t-shirt, fingers dancing over the laurel over his hipbone.

“Sit up.” He tugged at her shirt and smiled. “Wanna see. Can I?”

Nodding, she tugged her shirt up and above her head, the collar catching her ponytail and loosening it.

She felt his hands on her, hands on the black lace that covered her. “For me?” When she nodded, lip once again caught between her teeth, he moaned. “Take yer hair down, love.”

She did, his fingers tracing the cup of her bra before taking a detour to thumb at the soft skin above it. “So pretty.” He glanced up at her and smiled. “This isn’t a booty call. Yeh know that, right?”

She felt disappointment settle in her stomach. What were they doing then? “Oh. No sex?”

“No wait! That’s not what I mean.” He sat up to kiss her. “I wanna make lo… I wanna have sex with yeh. But I don’t want it just once, y’know? I don’t want it just once...” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I dun want yeh thinkin’ that yer a just booty call. Yer more important to me than that, monster.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “Good. That’s good.” She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, hands bracketing his jaw. “For the record I want this more than just once, too.”

“Yeah?”

Kissing him again, deeper, she nodded as she pulled away. “Yeah. Been wantin’ it ‘not just once’ for awhile.”

He moaned against her lips. “How long?” He pulled down the cup of her bra, his thumb smoothing over her nipple, smiling into her kiss as she gasped and arched into him. “How long have you wanted this, pretty girl?”

She pulled at his shirt and he obliged, lifting his arms over his head as she tugged the green fabric over his head. Her hands fell to his shoulders. “Since Jamaica.”

“Got yeh beat.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’ve wanted ye since I met you in LA.”

She smiled and kissed him. “Too late for me to say ‘me too’?”

“Is it true?” He tapped front clasp of her bra. “Can I?”

She nodded and gasped when he wrapped his lips around a nipple. “Of course it’s true. Baby…” She moaned. “I remember thinking it’d be easier if you were an asshole...Shit.” She threaded her fingers back through his hair.  

He covered her nipple with his thumb and nipped at the underside of her breast. She moaned as he started working a hickey into the soft, pale skin. “Fuck, Harry.”

Rolling her nipple between his fingers, he grinned. “That’s very sweet.”

“I don’t mean it that way!” She huffed. “You’re distractin’ me.”

He licked into her mouth, a smile stretching his lips. “What do you mean?”

She giggled. “You’ve looked in a mirror recently, right?” She captured his lips as he pinched her nipple. She gasped. “You’re so fuckin’ attractive, it’s unfair. It would’ve been easier to ignore that if you’d been an asshole.” She leaned her forehead against his and shrugged. “Knew it’d be difficult to pretend I didn’t want you, to be professional, if you looked the way you look and you were nice.”

She feels his fingers at the waistband of her sweats. “I need you naked. Please say yes.”

“Yes.”

Part XVI Up Next: Part XVII

[ktrsss1fics]

I love that you want to write Fergie and Niall drabbles! Can you please write about Fergie really struggling with her work load and being quite stressed and how Niall tries intervenes because he cares about her and is worried!

Georgina was swamped. Her co-worker Debra decided to go on maternity leave a month earlier than planned. All the cases she was currently assigned to had to be given to other people. Instead of distributing her work amongst the team evenly, they were all given to Georgina. She was the fastest worker and the only member on the team that worked well under pressure.

This meant that she was going to be logging more hours than necessary. This also meant her social life was going to take a massive hit.

She had already missed two movie nights, a group dinner at her favorite sushi place, and a girls luncheon at Jenna’s flat. She was currently bailing on fight night at Keith’s, which she wasn’t too torn up about.

But a certain someone was offended that she wouldn’t be making an appearance.

He’d already called twice. He was in town for a bit and hadn’t seen her yet. After the third call, she picked up.

“You’re on speakerphone Horan.” She called out leaving her phone on the coffee table in front of her.

“You goin’ over to Keith’s, Fergie?” His thick accent caught her off guard. She hadn’t heard it in a while.

“Not tonight.” Georgina sighed. “I’ve got too much stuff to do for work.”

“Oh.” Niall said sounding disappointed.

“I know.” She replied focusing on a file on her laptop screen. “Not a big fan of Debra at the moment.”

“What’d she do now?” He asked smiling at the sass in her voice.

“Had un protected sex with her fella seven months ago.” Georgina grumbled.

“I thought she wasn’t goin’ on leave until next month.” He said confused.

“So did everyone else.” She said. “I guess she wanted to surprise us all. Being the great bosses they are, Kath and Kim have given me all her cases on top of my full load.”

“Well that’s bull shit.” He said.

“Tell me about it.” Georgina sighed.

“You have dinner yet?” Niall asked.

“Nope. Don’t have time for it.” She said highlighting a line from the printout on her lap. “I have too much to do.”

“That’s not–” He started to say but she interrupted him.

“Not healthy. I know but I’ll grab a snack or something.” She said quickly.

“Fergie–” Niall said.

“I’m fine. I promise.” She said looking at the clock on the screen. “You’re gonna be late if you don’t leave now.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” Niall sighed into the phone.

“You’d have to ask me mother.” Georgina shot back. “Anyways, have fun tonight Horan. Don’t get too drunk.”

“Alright Fergie. Hope you get everything done.” He said before hanging up the phone.

As soon as the call ended, it was back to work. She was scanning documents, highlighting paperwork, and creating folders to send to the lawyers at the firm. She was so busy she hadn’t realized someone was at her door. When the doorbell rang a second time, she got up from her makeshift office on the couch and answered it. Standing with a backpack and two bags of take away was a person she didn’t expect to see.

“What are you doing here Horan?” She asked inviting him inside.

“Grabbed some take away from Molly’s and figured you could use some help.” He shrugged heading towards her kitchen.

“Really?” Georgina asked, surprised he’d be willing to help her out.

“Yeah. Brought me laptop and figured if you used both you’d get done faster.” He said placing the food on the counter.

He grabbed some plates from the cupboard. “And you not eating dinner is unacceptable so I got you a bacon cheeseburger with onion rings and a side order of fries just in case you wanted those instead.”

Georgina just watched him in shock. No one had ever done this before. No one had ever offered to help when she was stressed out. No one had brought her food because they were concerned that she hadn’t eaten. No one cared that much.

She was impressed. Niall was very sweet.

“Horan…” She paused.

“Before you go bitchin’ and complainin’, I know what it’s like to be so stressed it’s overwhelming so just let me help.” He said looking up at her. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Sure.” She blushed heading into the kitchen to help him out.

“Do you wanna eat in here?” He asked grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge. “Or do we need to go back in there?”

“We can take a quick break to eat.” She said taking their plates to the table.

“Good.” He said cracking open their bottles.

Niall took a seat beside her and got ready to eat the biggest hamburger she’d ever seen. He ripped open a bag and dumped the fries and rings on top for them to share. He handed over a bottle and started eating.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” Georgina said trying to break the silence that had formed.

“I used to wear them for fun but I actually need them now.” He laughed. “Sad right?”

“They look good.” She smiled. “They make you look older – smarter even. ”

“And sexier. I know.” Niall wiggled his eyebrows making her laugh.

“Thanks for getting this.” She said between bites. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“No problem.” He said pressing the bottle of beer to his lips.

“You were fine with missing the fight?” She asked grabbing a handful of rings.

Niall nodded as he swallowed his drink.

“Wasn’t it supposed to be a good one?” Georgina asked nibbling on a ring.

“Yeah but you needed help. There will be more fights.” He shrugged.

“You are the only person who has ever offered to help me when this kind of thing happens.” Georgina admitted. “Not even Britt has offered.”

“Well I don’t like to see my friends suffer. I know what it’s like to have to work more hours than humanly possible and what kind of toll it takes on a person.” He said focusing on his burger. “I didn’t want to see it happen to you.”

“Well I really appreciate it.” Georgina said awkwardly. “You caring n all that.”

“So what am I going to be doing?” He asked trying to change the subject.

“I think I’ll have you scan documents. They are already labeled. You just have to put them in folders so I can email them.” She explained. “You don’t mind using your computer?”

“Wouldn’t have brought it if I did.” He smiled.

“Brilliant.” She said before washing down a few bites of her burger.

Georgina and Niall worked well past midnight. They went through two films on FXM and a little bit of a Friends rerun. Their eyes were dry from staring at the screen too long and a small headache had began form in the young woman’s brain. Niall laid on the floor while she put the finishing touches on a few of the folders.

“You have to do this for every case the firm takes on?” He asked interested.

“Yep. Every single case.” She said keeping her eyes on the screen.

“And it doesn’t get boring?” Niall asked.

“S'get boring writing new songs?” She asked glancing over at him.

He shook his head. “Not really.”

“It’s like the same thing.” She said letting a yawn slip out. “Each case is a new song.”

“When you graduated from uni, did you see yourself doing this?” He asked fighting back the urge to yawn.

“Kinda but not really. I knew I wanted to help people.” Georgina explained. “I give the lawyers the info they need to try to win. They just have to put it all together. And we all hope for a good result. Without me, they work too much and don’t have a chance to focus on the facts of the case at hand.”

Niall smiled. “That’s a good way to look at it I suppose.”

“Most people find it boring.” She shrugged. “I think I’m perfect for the job.”

“You’re not boring.” He yawned.

“Well thanks but I was meaning that I like research and I’m really organized.” She said. “That’s why I always get the extra work.”

“If you uh ever need help and I’m in town, don’t be afraid to ask.” Niall offered.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She said before looking at the clock. “Oh wow, its late.”

“Are you done?” Niall asked sitting up.

“Just need this one to save and then I am done. You can go if you want.” She said shyly. “I’ve kept you long enough. I don’t want you to be too tired to drive home.”

“I don’t live that far, Ferg.” He laughed.

“Yeah but its late and crazy people could be on the road and I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt.” She rambled on. “All of your fans would find out and then I’d be a dead woman.”

“Are you actually caring for another person, Fergie Ferg?” He gasped.

She chucked a pillow at his head. “It’s only because I’m exhausted and you were nice enough to bring me onion rings.”

“Good to know.” He said getting to his feet.

“Thank you again for dinner and for all the help. I hope I didn’t bore you too much.” She said with a sincere smile.

Niall ran his hand through his hair. “I actually learned quite a bit. And I uh mean what I said. If you ever need help, let me know and I’ll be there.”

Georgina just smiled as he started to pack up his things. Once the files were saved, she closed her laptop and grabbed her phone ready to call it a night. The pair headed to the door in silence.

“Well it’s been fun, love.” Niall said pulling her into a bear hug. She rested her head on his chest as he held her tight. “I hope you don’t have to go in tomorrow.”

“I get to go in late.” She yawned into his chest.

“Call in sick.” He yawned back.

“I wish I could.” She said as he let her go.

“I could get ya a doctor’s note.” Niall said with a cheeky grin. “I know a guy.”

“Keith’s roommate said he was gonna stop doing it for us.” Georgina laughed.

“He said he was gonna stop helping Keith because Keith fucked up. He still likes me.” Niall said proudly.

“Everyone likes you Mr. Ego.” She teased.

Niall rolled his eyes dramatically before turning around to head for the door.

“Text me when you get home.” She said instinctively.

“Oh yeah, why?” He asked.

Georgina shoved him playfully, “So I know you made it back alive.”

Niall smirked as he opened the door “Uh huh sure.”

“Get out of me house, ya pervert.” She said making him laugh.

[ourmrmel]

Mel Feller Looks at How Real Estate Agents can Measure and Improve Their Bottom Line

Mel Feller Looks at How Real Estate Agents can Measure and Improve Their Bottom Line

In any professional sport, whether it is NFL, the NBA, PGA or any other sport, you name it, teams and individuals compete firstly with themselves.

 Athletes know their Personal Best (PB). When athletes beat their PB, this new PB becomes the one to beat. Athletes measure their performances in relation to their PBs – as either falling short of PB, equal to PB, or a new PB.

A Personal Best is a measurement. In athletics or swimming, a PB is measured in distance and time. Other sports, such as NBA or NFL, have many statistics: certain players may be encouraged to increase their personal tackle count or their foul shouts, for example.

 One thing that all coaches and players know for sure is that if you can measure something, you can improve it.

 This is just as true in real estate sales as it is in sport. In addition, just as great coaches and players measure their performances, so too do great real estate salespeople, and I do not mean just in listing, sales, and dollar production.

 It is a simple enough matter for any real estate agent to keep a record of their main results – for Listings, Sales, Asking Price Adjustments, Sides **, or fee production – these figures are usually to be found in company records.

 ** A Side is a listing sold or a sale started. Each sale has two Sides, the listing side and the sale side. A list/sell results in two Sides being awarded to the salesperson.

 Nevertheless, there are many other figures that lead up to these results and all too often good real estate agents fail to keep score in these areas. As a result, these salespeople do not have performance statistics that could lead them to massive improvement.

 If you wish to improve your performance, begin by keeping statistics on your performance in these areas:

 Prospecting Calls to Listing Appointments

Listing Appointments to Listings Obtained

Listings Obtained to Listings Sold

Asking Price Adjustment (APA) Appointments to APAs obtained

Buyer Appointments to Sales Started

Sales Started to Settled Sales

 Within Mel Feller’s program, Coaching For Success 360, Mel suggests that you keep these figures as you go along and examine them each month, at the end of each week if you are really serious.  If you will do this on a regular basis, in all the areas, I can promise that the areas where you need to improve will become obvious.

 For example, if you have a low Appointment to List Ratio, this tells you two things: either that the appointments you set were poorly qualified you should not have attended some or all of them at all or that your listing presentation needs work. Thanks to the statistics, you now know what you need to work on qualifying and/or presenting.

 Ratios tell you how much activity is required to produce a given result at your present skill level. A skilled telephone prospector, for example, might find one listing after sixty calls, whereas a person of lesser skill might need to make 120 calls to get a listing. These two ratios of 60:1 and 120:1 respectively mean that the person with lower skill will have to make twice as many calls to get the same result as the person with higher skill.

 This is not depressing news. It means that even if you have lower skill, you can still get the same results as a person with higher skill if you are prepared to make the extra calls. Even more refreshing is the knowledge that you, too, can improve your skill and gradually lower the amount of calls you need to make in order to get a result.

 Here is where your ratios come in. If you do not keep your ratios, you will not be able to measure the improvement, nor will you know why you are performing poorly. Without the stats, you are flying ‘blind’. In this business, it is often called the hardest, easiest job you will ever do.  Nevertheless, by keeping your numbers close to you, it will become easier and your bottom line will increase!

 The reliability of ratios can sometimes astound you. I once saw a person, who had a 100:1 Call to Appointment Ratio (100 calls got him one listing appointment) reach 99 calls and say, “The next call gets me a listing appointment!” He was right: the next call was a listing appointment, and a beauty. He listed and sold the property. It was uncanny; it was a combination of confidence, working the numbers, with a bit of luck thrown in. These factors seem to go together, have you noticed?

 For many years, I have been talking with hundreds of real estate agents about the importance of measuring their performances in the areas I mentioned above. It appears to me that winners and potential winners see the wisdom in this and are happy to gather the statistics, even if at first they do not know how to read them. At least these people can sit down with their brokers, and seek advice on how to improve the stats.

 I suggest that if you are going to work in real estate sales you may as well become good at it. Measure your performance and you know what to improve.

Why Use Mel Feller

Mel Feller is a business coach who helps individuals make the transition from full-time employee to successful entrepreneur.  A grandfather now, Mel Feller started his coaching business in 1990 to help other parents, employees and individual entrepreneurs deal with the sometimes-overwhelming prospect of starting a new business while still running a household or a job.   Prior to raising his family, as a single father, Mel Feller spent over two decades as Top Producing Real Estate Agent, corporate trainer and workshop leader and Chief of Staff to a United States Senator. Today Mel Feller offers a wide range of programs and services - from individual coaching, to seminars and keynote speeches. To contact Mel Feller, please visit his website http://www.melfellersuccessstories.com

 Mel understands how to help people create momentum for change in their life and how to break through the barriers holding them back.  He is a big believer in taking concrete steps forward every day.  Mel was stuck and more than once and so he knows firsthand how hard it can be to change your life to pursue your dreams, but he is living proof that it can be done.  

 It is his mission to help you get into the life you dream about, to convince you that you can make a living doing what it is you want to be doing, to help you feel like you are living your purpose and in congruency with your values.

 “Truth telling, honesty, and candor: I loved you Mel Feller! You have so much energy and knowledge! I truly hope I get another opportunity to be coached by you. I see myself a little clearer now, and it’s not so bad.”

Lisa Mathews

 “Mel Feller you added more value than we can possibly see right now. Mel Feller, you are warm, inviting, and accommodating. Thank you for coming alongside us in this transition!”

Vanessa Cavanaugh

“Mel Feller the best education session that we have attended in many years! Thank you so much — I am very excited to put everything you have taught us into practice!”

Michael Randolph

 “Mr. Mel Feller, Thank you, thank you, thank you for giving a marvelous keynote at our Symposium! While we have not yet collected the official feedback, the unofficial feedback was that You Were a Hit! I heard nothing but compliments regarding your presentations. Thank you for making such a positive impact on our attendees! ”

Lyle Cunningham VP

 "Mel Feller uses his humor, compassion, and direct nature to help bring out the best in me. Mel Feller is committed to helping me live...I mean, really live, life to its fullest."

Jose Rodriguez

 Mel Feller Links

 https://www.instagram.com/mel.feller  

 https://ourmrmel.tumblr.com/  

 https://www.pinterest.com/cfs360/  

 https://twitter.com/melfeller/following  

 https://wordpress.com/page/melfellerinternetbusinessinnovations.wordpress.com  

 https://dribbble.com/melfeller  

 https://biggerpockets.com/forums/79/topics/49008-larry-goins-bootcamp  

 https://txbusinessdb.com/p/mel-feller  

 https://xindex.com/c/12031660488/mel-feller-financial-services-group-inc  

 https://buzzfile.com/business/Coaching-For-Success-940-569-9260  

 https://melfellerrealestateinnovations.wordpress.com  

 https://myspace.com/mfcfs360  

 https://goodreads.com/user/show/86266194-mel-feller  

 https://mfcfs.contently.com  

 https://alignable.com/wichita-falls-tx/coaching-for-success-360  

 https://quora.com/profile/Mel-Feller  

 https://about.me/melfeller  

 https://independent.academia.edu/MelFeller  

 https://medium.com/@mfcfs360  

 https://melfellerentrepreneurialideas.wordpress.com  

 https://about.me/melfeller  

 https://thecoachingoffice.com  

 https://quora.com/profile/Mel-Feller  

 https://linkedin.com/pulse/reflections-journaling-mel-feller-mel-feller  

 https://creonline.com/finally-my-first-deal  

 https://etrainingguide.com

 https://reitips.com/open-letter  

 https://thecoachingoffice.com/testimonials.html  

 https://fortunebuilders.com/student-success-old/testimonials/page/9  

 https://agrandpaslove.blogspot.com  

 https://plus.google.com/u/0  

 https://youtube.com/channel/UCk_zDXJgadnWwmab0PhaIkQ/videos  

 https://linkedin.com/in/mel-feller  

 https://challengesinlife.com  

 https://melfellersuccessstories.com  

 https://melfeller.com  

 https://melfellerbusinessblog.com

[ourmrmel]

Mel Feller Begs Real Estate Agents to Place Testimonials on Their Websites

Mel Feller Begs Real Estate Agents to Place Testimonials on Their Websites

 Brian Tracy says that the two most powerful client persuaders are guarantees and testimonials; there can be no doubt that potential clients are more likely to believe what your clients say about you than they are to believe what you say about you.

However, how hard is it to get a decent testimonial without faking them? I do not think it is that hard at all. Faking happiness is the low road to success.  If you truly are in the people business, it will always to ask your clients for something in writing, especially if they are already thanking you for a job well done.

 Sure, you need a happy client, and preferably a lot more than one, but even the worst agent manages to make a few clients happy.

 I believe that a constant flow of recent references from happy clients is so important that I have made it a monthly target for salespeople. In fact, I use these references in our marketing and have no fear of them being verified for their authenticity.

 However, the secret is to get them. In spite of setting monthly targets for references, the leaders we work with say it is not easy, happy clients or not.

 Most Business Mentors, as myself will tell you that:

They have to nag salespeople to get them to ASK for references.

They have to nag salespeople to FOLLOW UP until they get their references.

So why do well-trained salespeople with happy clients need to be nagged to get references?

 I believe it can be only one of three reasons:

Laziness. I do not buy this. Lazy salespeople should be fired. They take up space and set a bad example for others on the team. Laziness is often fear in disguise.

 Fear. This is more common. Salespeople claim to be lazy or busy, but most often, they are scared to ask questions they fear will bring forth rejection. However, being scared to ask for a reference is downright negligence.  You have to have a happy client.  Then at that point, they will be more than happy to give you reference, but only if you ask them.

 Not understanding how important references are. This is a big one. If salespeople really believed that references from happy clients were such a crucial tool for convincing new clients to list with them, they would get more references. It is a matter of understanding the massive advantage of having happy clients speak for you, and then moving references up your list of priorities.

Think about this. A client asks you this question: “What’s your service like?” How do you respond?

 Typically, salespeople say something like, “Excellent”. Just like every other salesperson.  They all say that whether it is true or not. So how can sellers believe the answer? Most do not.

 However, suppose you said this: “Every salesperson will answer that question by saying how good they are. Nevertheless, how do you know which one to believe? How about I let my clients answer that for you?”

 Then show a video clip on your tablet, a video that shows a happy client talking about how pleased he or she was with your service.

 Which scenario would give you the highest chance of getting the listing? The one with the video reference, or the shallow ‘Excellent’ claim?

 If you have, a happy client ask them to write you a letter. Wait while they do it. Handwritten is better because it looks as though the client went to some trouble.

 These days, when you carry a Smart Phone you are carrying a video camera and a voice recorder. In addition, I would highly recommend that you use them!

 Video your clients standing in front of the ‘sold’ sign speaking about how wonderful you are. Do a sound recording too so that you can use this for people who have an aural learning style.

 Get written, video, and recorded testimonials from genuine and happy clients. Use those references at every opportunity to win more business.

 Why Use Mel Feller

Mel Feller is a business coach who helps individual’s make the transition from full-time employee to successful entrepreneur.  A grandfather now, Mel Feller started his coaching business in 1990 to help other parents, employees and individual entrepreneurs deal with the sometimes-overwhelming prospect of starting a new business while still running a household or a job.   Prior to raising his family, as a single father, Mel Feller spent over two decades as Top Producing Real Estate Agent, corporate trainer and workshop leader and Chief of Staff to a United States Senator. Today Mel Feller offers a wide range of programs and services - from individual coaching, to seminars and keynote speeches. To contact Mel Feller, please visit his website http://www.melfellersuccessstories.com

 Mel understands how to help people create momentum for change in their life and how to break through the barriers holding them back.  He is a big believer in taking concrete steps forward every day.  Mel was stuck and more than once and so he knows firsthand how hard it can be to change your life to pursue your dreams, but he is living proof that it can be done.  

 It is his mission to help you get into the life you dream about, to convince you that you can make a living doing what it is you want to be doing, to help you feel like you are living your purpose and in congruency with your values.

 “Truth telling, honesty, and candor: I loved you Mel Feller! You have so much energy and knowledge! I truly hope I get another opportunity to be coached by you. I see myself a little clearer now, and it’s not so bad.”

Lisa Mathews

 “Mel Feller you added more value than we can possibly see right now. Mel Feller, you are warm, inviting, and accommodating. Thank you for coming alongside us in this transition!”

Vanessa Cavanaugh

“Mel Feller the best education session that we have attended in many years! Thank you so much — I am very excited to put everything you have taught us into practice!”

Michael Randolph

 “Mr. Mel Feller, Thank you, thank you, thank you for giving a marvelous keynote at our Symposium! While we have not yet collected the official feedback, the unofficial feedback was that You Were a Hit! I heard nothing but compliments regarding your presentations. Thank you for making such a positive impact on our attendees! ”

Lyle Cunningham VP

 "Mel Feller uses his humor, compassion, and direct nature to help bring out the best in me. Mel Feller is committed to helping me live...I mean, really live, life to its fullest."

Jose Rodriguez

 Mel Feller Links

 https://www.instagram.com/mel.feller  

 https://ourmrmel.tumblr.com/  

 https://www.pinterest.com/cfs360/  

 https://twitter.com/melfeller/following  

 https://wordpress.com/page/melfellerinternetbusinessinnovations.wordpress.com  

 https://dribbble.com/melfeller  

 https://biggerpockets.com/forums/79/topics/49008-larry-goins-bootcamp  

 https://txbusinessdb.com/p/mel-feller  

 https://xindex.com/c/12031660488/mel-feller-financial-services-group-inc  

 https://buzzfile.com/business/Coaching-For-Success-940-569-9260  

 https://melfellerrealestateinnovations.wordpress.com  

 https://myspace.com/mfcfs360  

 https://goodreads.com/user/show/86266194-mel-feller  

 https://mfcfs.contently.com  

 https://alignable.com/wichita-falls-tx/coaching-for-success-360  

 https://quora.com/profile/Mel-Feller  

 https://about.me/melfeller  

 https://independent.academia.edu/MelFeller  

 https://medium.com/@mfcfs360  

 https://melfellerentrepreneurialideas.wordpress.com  

 https://about.me/melfeller  

 https://thecoachingoffice.com  

 https://quora.com/profile/Mel-Feller  

 https://linkedin.com/pulse/reflections-journaling-mel-feller-mel-feller  

 https://creonline.com/finally-my-first-deal  

 https://etrainingguide.com  

 https://reitips.com/open-letter  

 https://thecoachingoffice.com/testimonials.html  

 https://fortunebuilders.com/student-success-old/testimonials/page/9  

 https://agrandpaslove.blogspot.com  

 https://plus.google.com/u/0  

 https://youtube.com/channel/UCk_zDXJgadnWwmab0PhaIkQ/videos  

 https://linkedin.com/in/mel-feller

 https://challengesinlife.com  

 https://melfellersuccessstories.com  

 https://melfeller.com  

 https://melfellerbusinessblog.com