#and i do need to keep being forceful in some ways aka forcing myself to do the job applications and now scheduling the doctors shit i gotta

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

whats everyone's favorite citation style? mine is chicago i used to love love love that in high school. i never got to do it in college, i use using mla but man. chicago unless you've changed i missed u terribly. the sexiest of citations to me.

[luckykiwiii101]

FEELING? WHAT’S THAT?

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

Hey Upper East Siders.

If you didn’t know already, the Key to manifestation is “Feeling”. As Neville Goddard said, “Feeling Is The Secret.”

But what exactly is that “Feeling”

I’ve once been those “vague” bloggers that blatantly tell you “It’s just knowing you have your desire.” Which is true, but i’ve noticed that created some here.

Yes, that “Feeling” is KNOWING that you have your desire in imagination and that it is DONE.

But when people are manifesting, they keep trying to force the feeling of knowing that they have their desire. That is NOT the way it should be!

The knowing feeling will always be there once you’ve accepted it, even though you may not be able to exactly pinpoint what the feeling is. Don’t understand?

Well, for example, think of a fact about yourself. For me, I know that i’ve got black hair. I may not have a specific “knowing” feeling. I just know I have it. I just focus on whatever feeling that comes to me when I think of the FACT that i’ve got black hair. THAT’S the feeling of knowing (AKA feeling of the wish fulfilled). I am never forcing myself to feel the knowing feeling of having black hair. It just naturally arouses within me because i’ve already accepted it as a fact.

When you accept having something in imagination, that feeling is naturally just there. With acceptance comes the feeling. When you accept that the inner self (4D self) is the real self, persisting with the feeling becomes incredibly easy.

This feeling you get from identifying with your inner self. When you understand that the inner you is the real you, allowing the feeling becomes really easy. But you have to FULLY identify with your inner self. You are completely unidentifying with the 3D (your outer world & self).

People confuse themselves when they feel like they’re doing it wrong because they think they can’t feel the “knowing” feeling. The knowing feeling is just whatever feeling you get when you imagine having your desire and truly accept and acknowledge that you have it in imagination.

FEEL WITH 100% CERTAINTY THAT YOU HAVE YOUR “DESIRES” IN IMAGINATION, YOU WON’T EVEN HAVE TO QUESTION WHETHER YOU’RE IMAGINING “CORRECTLY” OR FEELING THE “CORRECT” FEELING BECAUSE YOU ARE ALREADY SO CERTAIN THAT YOU HAVE IT, BECAUSE IT’S AN UNDENIABLE FACT THAT YOU HAVE IT BECAUSE YOU EXPERIENCED IT IN IMAGINATION! -> This is the best way to describe the feeling!!!

This feeling of knowing may lead to emotions such as happiness, or other feelings like a sense of calmness and security. Happiness is an emotion, not a feeling. You do not have to feel happy. And overtime, you will notice that this feeling becomes more natural to you, so you may start to feel less happy about having the “desires” because it just becomes normal. You aren’t excited about having a new piece of clothing when you’ve had it for some time. The same goes for everything else. It becomes natural.

The feeling NATURALLY comes to you when you identify with the inner self who has the “desires” in imagination. You should NEVER be forcing it, you simply allow it.

Here is a quote from a post I saved a while ago:

“If you repeat in accepting that you're wealthy, either with affirmations or with scenes, the feeling of being rich will naturally arouse within you. don't force that feeling, simply allow it. if you're conscious of being rich, then the feeling will naturally arouse. you're NOT forcing yourself to feel rich. you're consciously directing your awareness to be conscious of being rich, and the feeling follows.

Bask yourself in it. lose yourself in it. remember, you're not forcing anything, you abandon yourself to it. lose yourself to the point where you forget you're imagining. being rich is the only reality that exists at that moment.

Do this until you no longer feel the need to do it. you'll know it when you feel like it's done and you don't need to do it anymore.”

“From this acceptance, you’ll feel this feeling(not emotion). and this feeling will generate scenes and affirmations that are perfect for you!!!! play with those scenes and affirmations or whatever comes to you naturally. bask yourself in this feeling!!! lose yourself!!!! have fun!!! from this on, all you have to do is persist not to get things in the 3d, but to make this state your habitual & autopilot state.”

“To be CONSCIOUS of being rich is to FEEL yourself to be rich. Focus first on being conscious of being rich then the feeling will follow. Focus on the state. Focus on being CONSCIOUS of being it.” - aphroditeapprentice

“All you have to do is FEEL it as a present FACT in IMAGINATION.”

KEY QUOTES:

✰ “Do not force that feeling, simply allow it.”

✰ “then the feeling will naturally arouse.”

✰ “you’re NOT forcing yourself.”

SUMMARY

All you have to do is, imagine whatever you want to imagine using any of your 5 senses, then focus on the FEELING that the imaginal act arouses within you. And hold that feeling for as long as you want. Then go about your day. And do this EVERY.SINGLE.TIME you think of your desire.

Only seek proof in IMAGINATION. Only identify with the inner self, know that the outer you is not the real you!

HOW TO ACTUALLY FEEL FULFILLED.

Love all of you beauties, XOXO

- gossip girl

[ofstoriesandstardust]

part i. - the after (j.r.)

a/n: well folks, she's finally here. this is the very first part of my new top gun maverick x twisters crossover series, all of my life it's been heartbreak weather (series playlist here). i'm so very very excited to have this out but i'm also intimidated by all that's to come (aka what did i get myself into). please note that this series does discuss past self-harm/suicide attempts. please be a conscious reader; if that's something that will upset you, please don't read. other than that, i hope you enjoy! remember that comments and reblog keep me fed and watered. :)

summary: After El Reno, Javi starts to wonder where his place in the world is if not with StormPar. Despite Kate's insistence he ride out the rest of the season with the Wranglers, he can't shake the feeling that he's unwanted. Fueled by his own fear, he makes the executive decision to spend some time out in San Diego with his cousin Mickey. He knows he's running, but he doesn't realize he's running right home to you.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, first kiss, food mentions, addy lives but at the cost of her leg, past/references self harm and suicide attempts, other normal twisters warnings, past scott/javi

wc: 10.8k

“You sure you won’t stay?” 

There’s Kate again, with that pleading look in her eye as she crosses her arms. The same one that she had given him when she asked him to stay before El Reno.

He almost had then too, but he remembered the way Tyler had looked at him on the front porch, the way he had followed Kate out there with such ease it had been like he’d always belonged. He feels it now too, when his eyes flicker over Kate’s shoulder to the Wranglers all scattered around Cathy’s porch as they pretend not to watch their conversation. It’s like they’ve always belonged there and it’s that knowledge that makes him shake his head. 

This is Kate’s family. After all that she had lost, Kate deserved to have a family again. She belonged among them, what with the way they fit together like they had always been friends. 

“I’m sorry Kate.” He rasps, feeling tears sting at his eyes. 

“Javi, I- I can’t do this without you.” 

And there it is, his own words reflected back at him. 

He can’t understand why though. She didn’t need him, didn’t need him getting in their way. He was a liability. He was a screw-up and she didn’t need him sticking around in a place that was never his to start with. 

“C’mon Kate, you know that ain’t true.” He says as he turns, opening the door of his Mike’s truck to throw his duffel bag in. 

“Javi, I’m serious. I talked to Addy last night-”

“Don’t go there.” He says firmly, slamming the door shut harder than he intends to as Kate flinches. “Don’t bring Addy into this.” 

His own guilt, his own fear. The memories of ignoring Addy’s phone calls for so long and the knowledge that she’d be so angry with him for starting this venture without her by his side. 

Kate bites her lip. “Where will you go?” 

He sticks his hands in his pockets, sighing. “I’m going to Mickey’s. He’s stationed out in San Diego right now; they’ve got an extra room in their house they’re letting me rent for the next bit while I figure out all this StormPar shit.” Kate’s eyes are red-rimmed, fingernails digging into her arms. 

She’s holding herself back, he can tell. He can tell there’s so much she wants to say to him that she’s choosing to keep inside. He almost wishes she would say anything, lose her cool, yell at him, tell him what a stupid decision this is, tell him how angry she is at him for leaving, beg him to stay. 

Be the same storm and force that he knows and loves her for being. 

But she doesn’t say anything at all, just chewing on her lip. 

Mike rolls down the window, shouting at him that they better get a move on if they want to make his flight. He waves him off, stepping closer to Kate as the window rolls back up. He sighs, before letting his hands fall onto her shoulders. 

“Tell you what. Give me the next few months and the off season to get my shit together, get all my legal crap with StormPar solved. And at the start of the new year, we can revisit. See if doing this together is still what you want.” 

It’s not quite a promise but he knows it would be worse to make her a promise he can’t keep. 

Kate may not understand and he may not know how to tell her but he needs this. 

He needs to take a step back. He needs a minute, a moment to breathe. He can’t go back to that place, that dark crawl space of a life he lived in after Jeb and Praveen died, after Addy lost her leg, after Kate disappeared to New York and they stopped speaking to each other, the one that squeezed him so tight it nearly squeezed the life from his lungs. 

Kate nods before reaching up to give him a hug. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he returns the hug. 

“I’m sorry Kate.” He breathes out. “Tell Addy hi for me, okay?” 

-

He doesn’t know why he’s nervous as he follows Mickey into the warm beach house. It’s small, quaint, walls emanating years of love. He’s only been in San Diego a day and a half at this point, but Mickey was adamant he introduced him to his second family as soon as possible. 

Mickey’s friends cheer at the sight of them and the grin Mickey returns to them is blinding. Mick slings an arm around his shoulder, jostling him as he introduces him to the team. 

He’s known Reuben for years, ever since Mickey’s graduation from the Academy, and Natasha and Bradley have been friendly faces to him over the years, often stationed with Mickey. 

Jake’s new but in a way, he’s got a striking resemblance to Tyler, the same ego and attitude to match. Javy ribs him about being name twins and he knows they’ll be good friends. 

Pete, Mickey’s commander, is kind, soulful. His face is lined with years of love and he knows from the very first minute that he cares very deeply about his team in a way he had never experienced with any of his own commanding officers. Pete says he’s regretful his husband isn’t there but that he’ll be back from Florida next week and Tom has already insisted they come back for dinner. 

He’s halfway through his first beer and a bowl of chips, talking to Pete about his work with StormPar and how the radars worked, when he meets you for the first time. 

Pete chuckles at the sight of you, popping an M&M into his mouth. “Morning sleeping beauty.” Pete nudges him. “This is my daughter.” He introduces you and he waves hesitantly, waggling his fingers at you. You run a hand down your face, groaning. “You work today?” 

“Opened and then Sally called off so I had to stay overtime. Came home and crashed.” 

“Hey, do you ever put on pants?” Jake heckles from the couch. You take a minute to look down at your pajama shorts and Niall Horan sweatshirt before you turn on your heel, a look that could kill shot at the blond. 

“This is my house!” You snap back before huffing, turning back around for the fridge. 

“What’s the story?” He asks Mickey quietly as Pete excuses himself, setting off after you to inquire about your plans for the evening. 

“She’s Mav’s daughter. She came into his life like, two years ago I think? She comes from a pretty nasty background which is why Mav lets her live here. I dunno, they’ve got a strained relationship and she’s… a handful.” 

Javi takes a minute to study you. You can’t be more than two or three years younger than him, probably almost the same age as Addy. You’re talking to Pete in a subdued voice as you rub sleep from your eyes, a couple of piercings hanging off from your ears. You’ve got a couple tattoos, one on your leg of a ribbon that looks oddly alike to Lilly’s stick and poke style. You’re not hard on the eyes either, even in your sleepy state. You’ve got an easy smile and kind eyes, a laughter that sounds like honey as you chuckle at Pete. 

“You’ll like her though. She’s kind of closed off, got a lot of stuff she doesn’t talk to us about. But she’s sweet and I think the two of you are about to bond over food here pretty quickly.” Mickey adds as you announce that you’re changing and departing for In-N-Out. 

Javi snorts as the group shouts things at you, wrinkling your nose as they do. You wave a hand, shouting at them all to just text you as you trot back off towards your bedroom. 

“Yeah, I know. She’s your dream girl but you might want to close your mouth, you’re drooling.”

He snaps his mouth shut as he looks at Mickey. He’s smirking, eyes full of mirth. “I’m not, uh-” He clears his throat which only makes Mickey grin grow.

“Uh huh. Go with her.” He says as you reappear from your bedroom, pants on this time. 

“No, I couldn’t-”

Mickey shakes his head. “No, no this is good because I need someone to babysit you and it was always going to be her.” 

“Who am I babysitting?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. Mickey jerks his head over to him and he feels his cheeks warm under your scrutiny. 

“I’m not babysitting your grown adult cousin.”

Mickey shrugs. “Think of it like, showing him all the sights. You wanted to be a tour guide; you love playing tour guide. I just want you to show him a good time before he starts work next week.”

The innuendo in his voice is apparent and you groan at Mickey. “I will be doing none of that.”

Mickey shrugs, muttering something about your loss, which only makes his cheeks grow warmer as he mentally thinks of all the ways he could kill his cousin for trying to play matchmaker. 

You sigh again, studying him for a minute before you roll your eyes. You wave an arm at him, already setting off towards the front door. “C’mon.” You call. Mickey slaps his shoulder as he skids off the barstool he’s sitting on, dutifully following after you. You turn sharply once at the door, and he swallows at your look. 

“I don’t know your name.” 

“Javi.” He says softly and he watches the way you say the name softly, relishing the way it sounds coming off your tongue. 

“Well Javi, it’s nice to meet you. Officially now.” You offer a hand out to him and he shakes it. “Do they have In-N-Out in out there in Kansas?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

He clears his throat. “I’m from Florida, actually. Miami. And uh, no we don’t. I’ve never had it before.” 

Your face lights up as you yank on the front door. “Well then Javi-from-Florida-Miami-not-Kansas, I’m about to make sure you get the full experience.”

-

The full experience ends up being you eagerly telling the cashier he’s never been before, insisting he get (and wear) the infamous hat. You giggle over the pictures you force him to pose for, firing them off to Mickey as you do. You play with the sticker packets, hunched over and hair falling over your shoulder and into your eyes in a repeated motion that makes Javi resist the urge to reach across the plastic table and sweep your hair from your eyes. When they call out for your food, you eagerly shoot up from your seat to get the food, waving him off as you bring it back to the table. 

Through dinner, you tell him about working as a barista, how Sally is one more no call no show away from getting fired and all the other gossip about people who he knows nothing about. 

He hates to admit it, but Mickey is right. He’s taken a real shine to you as you talk, a smile never leaving your face. 

He could fall hard for you, he knows in his heart of hearts. And it scares him shitless. He knows what happened the last time he loved a girl that much and all that it cost him. He knows he doesn’t know if he can go there and make it out the other side with you. 

Especially when, back at the house, Mickey mentions seeing Kate on Tyler’s latest stream and around the brownie spatula you’re licking you say Tyler Owens can eat shit.

Still, it doesn’t stop him from being equal parts intrigued and enchanted by you. You’re as kind as you are funny, and in many ways you mind him so much of the Tamers. You’ve got Kate’s brain, Addy’s carefree laugh, Praveen’s cautious nature, Jeb’s soulful kindness. 

He spends the first week hanging out with you around your barista shifts, going out for drinks, introducing him to Chili’s. One morning the two of you go to the beach and another afternoon the two of you sightsee at SeaPort Village and visit the USS Midway. You take him to Old Town to eat the best Mexican food you claim he’ll ever have and while it’ll never be his mama’s or abuelita’s, it’s a damn close second.  That Sunday before he starts work, you and Mickey drag him down to the zoo, and he buys you a panda pin he sneaks onto your fanny pack later that night on the SkyTram. 

And then he keeps spending his free time with you. He visits you on your opening shifts, which earns you some teasing remarks from your co-workers. He ends up at your house without Mickey on more than one occasion, playing Pokémon and MarioKart on your switch. You guys drive down to the beach, playing him all your favorite albums. He shares his music with you on the days he drives you to work or picks you up after you close. 

Know any good hangover spots? 

He rolls over on his bed as he rubs a hand down his face, looking at the clock. It’s nearing two and through his hangover, he can’t remember if you were supposed to work today. 

He doesn’t forget Addy calling him last night though. He’d been at the bar with Mickey and some of their crew. You’d invited him to go to the movies with you but he knew he was getting in too deep with you. He was going to hurt you if the two of you kept going at the rate you were and he couldn’t bear to watch it happen when you saw him for who he really was. 

In hindsight, he should’ve just gone with you. He’s sure that being with you would’ve taken away the sting of declining Addy’s call, a sting he had instead soothed with alcohol. 

His phone chimes and for a minute he hesitates, wondering if it’s Kate or Addy.

It’s nearing the anniversary. 

It’s two weeks away and he had ignored any outreach, including asking him if he wanted to be in Oklahoma with them for the first time in five years. 

It’s you though. 

I think I do. Up for a burrito? I’ve got a spot I’ve been wanting to introduce you to. I can come pick you up. 

-

An hour later, the two of you are in a neighborhood you don’t normally stray into as you point out familiar landmarks to him. 

He knows you haven’t lived with Pete forever and it dawns on him that this side of town must have been where you grew up as you pull into the tiny parking lot, leading him into the shop crammed between the 7-11 and Chinese place you claim used to be a Russian bakery your parents swore was a front for the mafia. 

You lean over to him as you stand in the cool hole-in-the-wall shop, saying how much you love the breakfast burritos here. You’re up in his space, arms nearly wrapping around his own. 

You’ve been doing that a lot more lately. You invade his personal space, entirely comfortable with him. You’ll lean against him in crowded spaces, whisper mocking remarks in his ear when Jake gets too big for his britches. You hug when you see him and when he leaves, and he swears you would’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder last week if Javy and Mickey hadn’t come back to their house when they did. 

He finds that he doesn’t entirely hate it. He likes it in a way, the way you’re so comfortable with him. 

He follows your lead, getting the breakfast burrito, and as the two of you sit down in the back corner of the place, laughing over your dislike for hot sauce, you mention how you have fond memories of your Dad bringing you here after early morning hikes during your childhood or hard days in high school. 

“Dad?” He questions softly. “Not Pete?” 

You shrug. “My mom’s ex-husband. I guess not my Dad in blood but my Dad in the way that it mattered.” 

“Do you guys still talk?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, we had a pretty strained relationship starting sometime during college and when it came out that he wasn’t actually my Dad, he cut all contact.” 

He blows out a breath, thinking of his own parents. His Dad has been gone since he was a toddler, couldn’t remember the dead beat even if he tried, but he couldn’t imagine not getting to talk to his mama. 

“You still keep in touch with your Mom?”

You shake your head again. “Nah, my Mom and I had a pretty nasty falling out about two years back now. I was never meant to be nor did I ever plan on being in Pete’s life but I needed somewhere to stay and given the circumstances and the fact that I think Pete felt pretty guilty he hadn’t been in my life given how I grew up, he and Tom uh- couldn’t really say no.”

He nods, taking another bite of his burrito as he contemplates asking the question that’s been burning in the back of his mind since that very first night he’d met you. 

“Can I ask something else?” You hum, nodding. “That first night we met- you made a comment about Tyler Owens. You uh, you know him? Or is it just like a general dislike?” 

You lick the tip of your thumb as some guacamole escapes your burrito. “In the short of it, I worked for the Wranglers last season.” You hum at his wide eyes. “Yeah, Tyler and I had a pretty big falling out after the last chase of the season. He made it very clear I wasn’t welcome back.” You say it with a shrug in a very that’s that way but based on the bitterness seeping through your tone, it isn’t just all that. 

“So- how’d you even get a job with them?” 

“I bought a house in Oklahoma and needed something to do-”

He cuts you off, holding his hands up in a timeout motion. “You bought a house in Oklahoma?”

You huff out a laugh.  “I sort of- for lack of a better term, had a nervous breakdown my first semester of grad school when I had my falling out with my mom. I dropped out halfway through the term and moved in with Pete. I’ve always been shopping for real estate on the side, you know, just for shits and giggles. Always used to run around saying girls didn’t want husbands, they wanted to buy property. Anyways, I fell in love with this house out in Claremore and uh, turns out when I was born, Pete had set up this trust I was supposed to get once he died. I don’t think he ever expected to live this long, so it’s accumulated one helluva chunk of money and interest through the years. And he and I talked about it, and decided to use the money as the down payment. A friend of mine I met through storm chasing is staying there right now, cause she needed a place to stay and she offered to cover all the expenses. Utilities and whatnot.”

“You miss it? Oklahoma?” 

You shake your hand in a so-so motion. “Anyways, I don't quite know how it all happened, Tyler needed someone to run their Tiktok and Instagram because Boone refuses to learn it and it’s a whole audience they’re missing out on. So Tyler brought me on to run the other social medias Boone didn’t want to.” He nods, buzzing with all the information he just got from you. 

A house in Claremore?

You had storm chasing experience? 

Would you ever go back? 

“Okay, my turn. You got to ask stuff about me, so now I get to ask stuff about you.” He nods his head, resting his arm against the back of the chair next to him as he pops the last bite of burrito in his mouth. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker over his bicep. “How in the hell did you go from Florida to storm chasing in Tornado Alley to San Diego?” 

“I went to UF for undergrad and uh, decided hurricanes just weren’t cool enough to me. Wanted to study tornadoes and figured there was no better place than the heart of Tornado Alley herself, so I went to Muskogee and got my Masters. Then I joined the Army-” Your eyes grow wide. “And uh, after four years, my contract was up and I took my tech and started StormPar. But we had some pretty unethical investors and my business partner turned out to be- well, honestly he probably was the whole time, a real dick so I took my tech and told them to go to hell.” He giggles a little bit at your sour look. “What?”

“Man, I fucking hate tornados.” 

“That’s the part you’re focused on?”

-

Are you free today?

I really don’t want to be alone and Mickey has to work. 

You frown at the message. 

Yeah. Everything okay? 

Javi types back almost immediately. 

No. Up for a drive? 

-

You roll to a stop in the gravel parking lot, turning the key in the ignition as you eye Javi. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” You ask quietly. 

He nods. “Please?” He rasps out quietly. You nod, slipping out of the car. He waits for you at the front of the car and you hesitate for a moment, before making a rash decision to take Javi’s hand in your own. He intertwines his fingers with your own as if it’s second nature to him, slowly weaving your way through the graveyard in Encinitas. 

Slowly, you reach a stop, Javi standing in front of a marble stone. You squeeze his hand. “Let’s sit.” You whisper and he follows your lead, sitting down next to you. You move to let his hand go but his grip only tightens. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

He sniffs, taking his free hand to wipe his nose. “This was Praveen. He uh, he was one of my room mates in grad school.” You scoot closer to Javi, resting your chin in his shoulder. 

“Wanna tell me what happened?” 

“We were uh, we were storm chasing this time five years ago. For our thesis project. I was in charge of the data, I stayed with the van. The rest of my team- Kate, Jeb, Addy, Praveen, they went out to drop these barrels in the tornados path. Kate and Praveen and Addy were testing to see if they could get this- this polyacrylate into the air- the shit they use in diapers Addy always used to say, to tame the tornado. But it- it didn’t fucking work. It was an EF-5, the worst a tornado can offer and it killed Jeb and Praveen. I- I was in the van, watching our sensors rise 70,000 feet in the air and shouting into a radio nobody would answer. Afterwards, I uh- I drove around looking for any one of them, just- I knew it was probably impossible but I uh- I found Addy.” He takes a shaky breath. “She was alive, thank God, but uh, shit she lost her leg. She got hit by some debris while they were trying to hide in an underpass. I mean, thank God I did find her when I did, she probably wouldn’t have lived if I hadn’t but there was- so much blood.” 

“What about Kate?” You ask softly. 

“Kate- Kate lived but she was never- never the same person. Shit, I don’t blame her. One of her best friends dead, her boyfriend dead, another one of her best friends permanently disabled-” He breaks off, voice watery as he gives a shrug. “They were my room mates you know? We met on Craigslist of all places. We were three out-of-state- Jeb’s from Indiana, Praveen from here, out-of-state broke as fuck grad students needing somewhere to live. It could’ve ended so poorly but man I fucking loved those guys. They- they were-” He shakes his head. “We lived in this shithole apartment, the heat never worked, we had fucking roaches, a leaky kitchen sink pipe and the first time I went back to the apartment after it happened, all I could think about was how quiet our place was.” 

Your heart sinks at the thought of him going back to a house filled with ghosts, probably still covered in the blood of his friends.

“Javi, I’m so sorry.” You say softly. “That sounds… unimaginable.” 

“I miss ‘em so fucking much, you know? I’d give anything to have them back, even just for one more day.” 

You rub a hand up and down Javi’s arm as you let his hand go, him reaching up to wipe away his tears. 

“Shit, I’m such a bad friend, I should’ve brought like, fucking flowers or something.” 

You hum. “Well, there’s a Trader Joe’s like ten minutes from here, we can go get some and come back. Or I can go and get some for you.” 

“Can you go?” He croaks. “I would go but-” He gestures to himself. You bite back a snort, nodding as you understand what he means. 

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” He nods and you let his arm go after squeezing it, standing up before you turn back for the car. 

Once inside, you let out a breath as you wrap your hands around the steering wheel. 

It hurt your heart to see Javi so upset, to see him work through so much grief. 

You’d come to know Javi so well and had found him to be such a bright person, so charming and funny, kind and understanding, and it hurt to hear all that he had gone through before he had come into your life. 

The most you could do at this point was be here for him however he wanted you to be here for him and see him through this day. And that started with these damn flowers. 

You stood in the AC of the Trader Joe’s for far too long, unsure of what Javi would want or what his friend Praveen would’ve liked. Eventually though, you make your way back to the gravesite, instantly wishing you had taken even longer. 

“-fuck Praveen, it got so bad. Kate and Addy would’ve been so disappointed to see me like that, to know I tried to- I think. And you know, Mickey is the one who found me, wrist slit open, blood running down my arms and I-”

You softly gasp, fingers unconsciously tightening on the cellophane of the flowers as his words sink in for you. 

And to your horror, Javi turns around. 

-

Javi turns as you shift on your feet. 

It’s with a sinking heart that he realizes you have a fearful look in your eye and he wonders painfully if you’re afraid of him. 

You swallow, taking a step closer to him as you hand him the flowers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to- I can go wait in the car.” You offer softly. 

“Are you scared of me?” He asks softly. Your eyes go wide as you startle. 

“Scared of you? No.” You say quickly, shaking your head. You sigh, falling to the ground next to him as you take his arm again. He sets the flowers on the ground, half-turning his body towards you. “No, I just- didn’t mean to overhear that. It sounded private. Like… you wouldn’t have said it if you had known I was there. You said it because you thought you were alone.”

He studies you for a minute and you let him. There’s nervousness in your eye, but more so, there’s no pity held there that people usually look at him with once they hear about what happened, about what he did. Instead, there’s something akin to understanding as you look at him. You sigh. 

“Javi, you gotta know that you experienced a truly traumatic loss. And it- this doesn’t define you. Shit happens okay, and it- sometimes our brain is our own worst fucking enemy, it goes against everything we know, everything we hold dear to ourselves, and sometimes it convinces us of the worst fucking shit. Makes us do the worst fucking shit to others, to ourselves. But Javi,” 

Your fingers slide over the shallow scar on his right arm and his breath hitches. 

He was usually so good about covering it up, first with sleeves, jackets were his best friend during early season as he learned how to be around the StormPar team, and then switching out various watches. He’d gone to great lengths to even make sure Kate wouldn’t see. 

And he’d gotten a bit careless being in San Diego, under the constant sun, none of Mickey’s friends having said a damn word, but he was always careful around you. 

Never too fast, never too much, not wanting to lose you. Your friendship. 

But in his grief he’d forgotten all about it. 

And of course you’d clocked it. 

The only person who’d ever seen it, really seen it, had been Scott, the unspeakable thing between them. He hadn’t even let his Mom or Mickey bring it up, too ashamed in the aftermath. 

But the way you were touching him now, gentle and soothing, didn’t make the scar burn like it usually did. 

It felt… better. Healing, somehow. 

So he lets you keep touching it, thumb running gently up and down the length of it as you keep talking. 

“This doesn’t define you. It’s a part of you, it will always be a part of you. It’s a huge part, but it’s not what makes you you.”

You swallow, looking down. “I don’t want this to come off as if I’m making it about me, because I’m not. I just want you to know that I understand. What it feels like to feel that way.” He gives you a short nod as he meets your shiny eyes and you look away, giving a wet chuckle. “I grew up in an abusive household. Mom was an alcoholic, Dad was just… an all around piece of shit. We grew up piss ass poor.” You say, shaking your head. “I really struggled. I couldn’t make friends in school growing up because other parents didn’t want their kids around my parents and when I got older, I was the weird girl with the home life no one else could relate to. Those who could relate to it weren’t… the best influences. And um, when I was 15, all the mental turmoil that had built up, sort of peaked. I came so close to… just ending all of it.” You don’t let him go, even as he reaches over to brush a stray tear from your face. “I didn’t… actually do anything. I didn’t have the courage to take that final step and when I woke up the next morning I was horrified. And embarrassed, I think. I never came that close to anything again but sometimes… the thoughts come back up.” 

“How do you get past it?” He rasps. 

You scuff the toe of your shoe into the grass. “I don’t know that I’d say I’m the example, my college therapist was pretty concerned I might do something for a while there and I probably should’ve been medicated but I- I don’t know. I have to remind myself that it does get better. That maybe I don’t always see it, but there are people who’d give a damn if something happened to me, that it wouldn’t be this sigh of relief to them that I think it would. And I try to give those past versions of myself grace because really she was doing the best with what she knew.” You give him a sad smile. “Have grace with yourself Javi. Past you was just doing the best he could.” 

-

“I don’t want to pry, because it’s not my place.” 

He gives you a non-committal hum as you unlock the car door. 

The two of you had sat for hours in that graveyard as Javi recounted his favorite memories of Praveen, of their time, however short together, when Praveen’s older brother had shown up and in his surprise at seeing Javi, had invited him to dinner with his mother. 

You’d initially offered to just drop Javi off at the restaurant, that you’d come back when he was done, but he looked so torn up about the thought of you leaving and Praveen’s brother had been so insistent that a friend of Javi’s was a friend of their families and should join them for dinner, that you ended up agreeing. 

On the drive over is when Javi starts to clue you in more on the larger picture of the last five years, of the true fallout from the tornado. 

Addy’s parents had never forgiven Kate, so much so that they had tried to get Addy to take a restraining order out against Kate. The courts had denied it, outright, and the judge had apparently exchanged such words over the stupidity of the order request with Addy’s lawyer, because Addy had been a legal adult, participating in the same university-sanctioned research that Kate had, accepted by the the same PhD program that Kate had, that Addy’s family hadn’t tried again. 

Jeb’s parents had been so enraged with Kate that they refused to even tell her where Jeb was buried. Kate didn’t even get to go to the funeral, which was right around the time she stopped answering Javi’s calls and Javi stopped trying. 

Praveen’s family had been the kindest in the aftermath. 

Praveen’s Mom had found Javi’s on FaceBook six months after Praveen’s death, because she knew Javi’s birthday was coming up and wanted to send him a card. Praveen still had the date marked in his calendar in his childhood bedroom. 

Their families had stayed in touch over the years, even if they hadn’t with anybody else’s, and Javi tells you he suspects it has little to do with any kind of effort Praveen’s mother had made. 

Praveen’s mother, a kind woman named Delia, welcomes Javi to the table with open arms and a tight hug for you. She apologizes for the absence of Praveen’s sister, finishing her residency at John Hopkins in Maryland. 

Throughout the dinner, it’s clear to you how in the aftermath, Praveen’s mother had found more forgiveness for Kate and what had happened then the others did. 

Praveen’s Dad had died when he was in high school, a victim of a freak drive-by shooting. What should’ve been a hardship only made Praveen more encouraged to pursue his dreams, eventually landing an acceptance to UCLA with a full ride. But you can’t study tornados in Southern California, leading Praveen to Muskogee and the Tamers. 

Praveen had loved what he was doing, every second of it, even when it had put him in harm’s way. He always spoke of how much he loved his friends, of this dream they were building. He spent every minute home with his mother wishing he was home in Oklahoma. 

That’s how she had found peace and solace in the loss of her youngest son. Praveen had died doing what he loved with the people he loved. How could she ever be angry? 

Javi squeezes your hand before breaking apart to round the front. “You were saying?”

You click your tongue. “Yeah. I guess, you don’t have to explain the how, I guess, but are you, are you doing better?” 

You realize the question makes no sense as you ask it yet Javi understands as he waits for you to climb in, starting the car. 

“What if I did want to talk about it? With you? The how, I mean.” 

“If you want to, then I would listen.” 

Javi takes a breath. “I‘ll spare you the details, but Mickey was the one who found me. Had to call 9-1-1 and since I had to- you know, spend a couple nights in the psych ward, they notified my CO and I was discharged.” 

“So… leaving the Army was never really your choice then?” 

He shakes his head. “No, but Scott had already been on his way out. His contract was up and he wanted to be gone. My only friend- my-” He stops himself and you can tell there’s more to the story. “My best friend, leaving the Army, sort of-”

“Played into all of it?” 

“Yeah.” He breathes. 

“But you are doing better now?” 

He shifts in his seat. “It’ll never be that bad again, and I- uh I’m on some good medications, much as I hate to admit that. But days like this are just… hard. I don’t like being alone. And Mickey and my Mom and Scott are the only ones who know about what I did so it just- makes it harder I think. Not to talk about it, like it didn’t happen.” He takes a shaky breath. “Scott is actually the- the one who tipped my Mom off that something might be happening. I had- had texted him that I loved him and I was sorry. And when I stopped answering he called my Mom. She was out-of-state, out in Arizona for a funeral, and she called Mickey to come check on me since he had been on leave that week.” He swallows hard. “Scott loved me enough to the point of risking losing me, just so- just so I could live. As terrible as he turned out to be, I still miss that part of him.” 

“I understand.” You say softly. “I had to call for a friend of mine during college. I was living out of state at the time, and she never forgave me. But she’s still here, and she got to graduate from college and get engaged to her high school sweetheart and she might be angry at me forever, but you love someone enough to be okay with losing them, just to see them live.” 

The half hour drive back to San Diego is quiet, the stereo playing your music softly. You don’t see it, but Javi starts to build a playlist from your choices, reveling in the comforting nature of this moment right here. 

Finally, you pull into his driveway of the house he shares with Mickey and Javy, tires crunching on the concrete. You watch him get out, bidding you a goodnight and walk towards the front door. 

“Javi!” You call, barely remembering to turn the car off as you open the door. He turns as you jog up the driveway after him. 

And before you can think too far into it, you hug him. He startles, but he wraps his arms around you and you sigh, fisting your hands in his jacket. 

“I’m really glad you decided to stay and I’m really glad that I got to meet you. You- you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met, and I’m thankful you’re in my life. I’m sorry all that terrible shit happened to you, cause- cause you never deserved that. And I just wanted to make sure you knew that.” 

You let him go and his arms slowly follow, letting you move back as you look up at him. You can’t read the look on his face, so you clear your throat. 

“Anyways, um, have a good night Javi.” You say quietly, giving him a small wave. 

“Night.” 

He’s in the house by the time you start the car again and you sighed to yourself. 

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Javi’s heart was with Kate and Addy and the research he left behind in Tornado Alley. And it was gonna hurt like hell when he left to finish what he started. 

-

“So, you ever gonna ask her out on a date?” 

He startles up, fumbling his phone as Pete gives him a cheshire grin. 

“I’m- Um-” He stammers, eyes darting around the living room. Pete pats him on the back, before walking away, chuckling as he does. 

“C’mon, you’re out with her, what, four, five nights of the week? At least? Not counting how many hours you spend over here. Just pull damn the trigger already Rivera.”

“We’re just- we’re just friends.” He says, feeling a flush creep up his neck the longer your Dad stares at him. 

“You convince yourself with that lie?” 

He licks his lips, not expecting to be called out so directly. “She’s better than what I deserve.” He admits shyly, the flush only crawling farther, starting to feel more like flames as Pete softens. 

“You’re a good kid. I trust you with her.” 

He runs a hand over his face. “I’ve got a lot of baggage.” 

“So does she.” Pete heaves a sigh, crossing his arms. “We’ve all got something, kid. But that doesn’t mean you’re any less deserving. Only took Tom about twenty years and a couple of near death experiences to beat that into my skull.” Pete raps his knuckles against his head, eyes flickering to your bedroom door, where you’re changing out of your work clothes after showering. “I’m not blind and contrary to my daughter’s belief I don’t know her at all, I know her pretty well. She is half me, after all.” Pete swallows around the last little bit, defeat sinking into his stature at his acknowledgment at just how tense his relationship with you was. “I know how she looks at you. The same way Nick and Carole tell me I always looked at Tom.” 

“How- how did you look at him?” He asks. 

Pete smiles softly as they both hear the sound of your bedroom door open. 

“Like he was home.” 

-

He should nudge you, tell you the movie’s over, and excuse himself. 

He should get out of your house, the early hour it’s nearing, knowing it’s closer to the time Pete wakes up for work in the morning than when he and Tom went to bed. Pete had put a lot of trust in him after all. 

But you’re so comfortable with him, breathing slowly, and it’s the most peaceful he thinks he’s ever seen you. 

For once, your brain isn’t going a million miles a minute, moving as fast at the planes Pete flies. 

And he can’t deny that his own bone-deep exhaustion is hitting him, dragging him further into sleep alongside you. Can’t resist the peace that settles over him.

In the morning, he’ll wake to a text from Pete, an image of the two of you curled up together on the couch and a message that says: Here’s what I’d tell my pilots - don’t think, just do.  

He’ll watch you from across the kitchen as you putter around, smiling softly at him, sheepish about falling asleep on his shoulder the night before. 

He’ll tell you it’s the best night of sleep he’s gotten in years and you’ll laugh it off, chucking a chunk of avocado at him, but he knows it’s true. 

It’s the first time he sleeps through the night without nightmares since the day his friends never came back. 

-

There’s a murmuring from outside of your bedroom door and you peer over your phone to catch a few shadows moving before Javi suddenly stumbles into your doorframe. 

He waves someone, Mickey probably, off as he realizes you’re already looking at him. He straightens up, shuffling to lean against the doorframe as he offers you a nervous smile. “This is uh, a nice… calendar.” He trails off awkwardly, playing with the edges of the paper hanging on your wall. 

You snort, setting your phone down on your bed as you move to sit up. “Sure is.”

He clears his throat, gesturing awkwardly to your room. “Can I?” 

You can’t help the grin that grows across your face. “Sure Javi.” 

“Right, well-” His cheeks color as he shuts the door behind him. “Um, well, I was just hoping maybe we could uh- well uh-” He scratches the back of his head as your eyebrows raise. “Do you, uh, do you wanna go on a date with me?” 

Your smile grows even wider as you nod, butterflies exploding in your stomach as he asks. “Yeah, I’d love to.” 

His shoulders relax a little bit as his own smile transforms into a rather genuine one. “Yeah? Okay, um Friday?” 

“I can do Friday.” You confirm. 

“Okay, cool. That’s cool. I’ll pick you up at uh, say 7? Dinner?” 

You nod again. “Yeah, I’ll see you then.” 

-

Thunder breaks out, a lightning strike illuminating the sky as the two of you leave the restaurant in downtown San Diego. 

You hum as the air turns, squeezing Javi’s hand. “You know, growing up I read this book where she used to count in between the thunder and the lightning and that would tell you how many miles away the storm was. I used to do it all the time until my Dad told me that it wasn’t real.”

He looks down at you, a fond smile as he walks towards his truck with you. A few raindrops begin to fall from the sky, wetting the asphalt beneath your feet. “My friend Addy does that. She used to at least.” He pauses for a minute then tilts his head. “You’d like Addy, actually. If she’s still anything like she was back then, you two would be bad for my blood pressure.” 

You hum, pulling him closer. “I love rain. I remember when I used to sit out on my grandparents porch at their condo on the lake growing up and watch the storms. Or how my freshman year as an out-of-stater, I stood in my dorm’s parking lot in the rainstorm the first week while my whole floor watched me.” 

He pauses near the car as the rain picks up, soft music from the restaurant following you guys into the parking lot. “Dance with me.” He says softly. 

You let out a nervous laugh. “What?” 

“Dance with me. Right now.” He says, already turning to take your other hand. 

“Okay.” You say softly, letting his hand find the small of your back, as your hands clasp around his neck. 

The movements are slow, Javi guiding you through a twirl. A laugh plays on your lips as he pulls you back close to his chest. He holds you there, something twinkling in his eyes as you look up at him. 

“What?” You say through a laugh, feeling your cheeks warm as he gazes down at you. “Got dessert stuck on my face?” 

He shakes his head. “No just, uh- you’re really pretty like this.” 

A bashful grin tugs at your lips as you fight the urge to duck your head. “You too.” 

He huffs out a laugh, both of his hands dropping to your waist. His teeth tug at his bottom lip, a movement you know he tracks you watching. “You’re really something, you know that?” 

You step impossibly closer to him, tilting your head up at him. “Just shut up and kiss me already.” 

“If the lady insists.” He murmurs, hands on your waist tightening as he leans down. 

The kiss is searing, charged, as he tugs on your own bottom lip for permission. You tilt your head, giving him access. 

The sky crackles to life above you once more and you pull away, probably sooner than Javi would’ve liked to stare at the sky in wonder. 

“You’re something else, kid.”

-

“What are you doing?” You ask as Javi holds his hand out to you as you climb out of the front seat. 

“What does it look like? I’m walking you to the front door.” 

You hum, taking his hand as he shuts the door behind you. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“Well, I ain’t no Tyler Owens, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman.” 

“Mmm, flowers, opening my car door, walking me back at night, one would almost say you’re trying to land yourself a second date Mr. Rivera.” 

“Well, you know…” He shrugs his shoulders and you can pick up the blush on his cheeks as you two step into the yellow glow of the porch light. “I wouldn’t be mad about it.” 

“Yeah?” You ask smugly as you reach out to smooth out the collar of his shirt. “You feeling brave or should I?” 

“Hey, you think Pete is still awake?” He asks suddenly and you frown.

“Probably not, why?”

He hums, sticking his right hand out over the Ring camera. “Just for good measure.” He says softly, as he tilts your head up with his left, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. It’s over too soon and you find yourself chasing his lips. He laughs at you as he lets his hand fall. “Easy there, only the first date.” 

You sigh and roll your eyes, pouring slightly. “Fine then.” 

“What about drinks on Tuesday? Do you close?” You shake your head and he grins again. “Tuesday it is. I’ll call you, okay?” He says softly, squeezing your hand and you nod, before you turn, pulling the door open. 

You slip inside, immediately moving to tug off your boots, stumbling and swearing as Pete says “Have a good time?”

You catch yourself on the entryway table as you look up to where he’s standing on the stairs. “Jesus, you scared me. What are you doing up?” 

He holds up his phone. “Got the notification that you were back.” You grunt, finally tugging one of your shoes off and start to work on the second. “So really, you have a good time?” 

You look up at him as the second shoe is freed from your foot and you smile. “Yeah, a really good time.” 

Pete smirks as you walk towards the staircase. “He give you a goodnight kiss? Couldn’t quite tell what with him covering the camera.” 

You scowl at him. “I’m an adult, what would it matter? Am I not allowed to kiss people now?” 

He hums. “Well, just that back in my day, you didn’t exactly kiss them on the first date.”

“No, you just fucked them in seedy bar bathrooms.” Tom says from the top of the stairs. Pete turns, coloring red at the callout from his partner. You snicker as Tom walks down the steps, coming to stand on the one behind his husband. “You have a good time, kid?” You nod. “Javi respectful? Keep his hands where they’re supposed to be?” You nod again, although it isn’t lost on you that this is the most care and interest Tom has shown in you since you’d gotten back from Oklahoma. “Good. You coming back to bed Pete or are you going to stand out here all night?” 

Pete sighs. “Yeah, I’m coming. Night kiddo.” Pete presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before turning, squeezing Tom’s hand as they walk back up the steps. You wait to hear their bedroom door shut before you shuffle down the hall to your own bedroom, the guest room that still sort of emanated a guest bedroom, with maybe a few more posters on the wall. 

You pull off your clothes and change, deciding against going through your nighttime routine in favor of crawling under the covers. 

If you happened to squeal like a teenager as you relieve the night, well that’s between you and the moon. 

-

“So.” Mickey asks and he turns, catching his cousin with his hands in his pockets. “You ever gonna tell her you’re in love with her?” 

He sighs, picking up another rock from the sand, thumbing over the smooth surface before chucking it into the lake. “You’ve always read me too easily.” 

Mickey walks the few paces to stand next to him. “Kate called you tonight.” 

It’s not a question. It’s a fact. He hadn’t gotten to the phone in time, Mickey seeing Kate’s contact photo cross his screen. It’s still the same one it’s always been, a picture of them from welcome week during the first year of grad school, a goofy photo of her poured over their textbook. Praveen is next to her, shoulder barely in the photo but the memory of him leaning all the way out of view of the camera into Jeb as he ate dinner in Kate and Addy’s apartment still makes him laugh. 

“She did.” 

Behind them, he can hear you. It’s someone’s birthday, he can’t bother to remember who, and you had all trekked down to the bay for a chilly November bonfire. Across the rippling water, he can see the lights of SeaWorld reflecting back at him. 

Him and Kate had been talking — finally. Kate wanted him to come back to Oklahoma and he couldn’t deny that he missed the rush of a storm, the buzz beneath his skin. The way helping those people of El Reno had, in time, begun to heal those open wounds in his soul. 

Addy had been blowing up his phone, Lilly too. He was ashamed to admit that it had been the first time he’d let himself talk to Addy and even more ashamed to admit just how much he’d missed her. Dani had called him here and there, getting him all caught up on the life he had missed and Boone would shout over her shoulder into the receiver, inevitably wrestling the phone from her to tell Javi whatever it was that was passing through his brain. 

Even Tyler had gotten in on all of it; if only to talk about what a partnership between Tyler’s resources, Kate’s brain, and his radars would look like. 

“You’re going back to Oklahoma.” Again, not a question. 

He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I might be.” 

Mickey lets out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. “You can’t be for real.” Mickey says incredulously, anger hinting underneath his words. “After everything.” 

He scoffs. “Come on, Mick. You know, storm chasing is where my heart is. Same as how yours has always been with those planes.” 

“No, it’s not.” Mickey says coldly. “And you know what, Javi? I didn’t just introduce you to her for the hell of it. I know just as well as you do what that girl means to you, even if you’re too much of a goddamn coward chickenshit to admit it to her. And I was the one who knew what she could be to you and I thought maybe she would be enough to-” 

“To what, Mickey? This was never a forever.” He says honestly. Any idea Mickey got otherwise was on his cousin and his cousin alone. 

Mickey huffs, turning to trek back up the sand. 

And then, he hears it. He can’t hear what’s said exactly, but Bradley admonishes you for something and you go quiet. 

And there it is again. 

Ever since he’s met you and watched the way this crew interacted with you, he’s picked up on it, more and more. How little respect Bradley gives you. Really how little respect that whole team gave you. They had written you off. 

Even Mickey, who you were the closest to, both in friendship and age, saw you as nothing more than a weird addition to the home he visited so much. 

He didn’t see you for how kind you were, for how bright you were. How you drank so much creamer with your coffee Javi quite frankly thought it should be illegal. How you were funny and nothing was off-limits with you. 

How you’d been so understanding the first time the two of you had remotely done anything physical and he had freaked out. How you had patiently listened as he panic-told you that he was into men and how he had dated Scott, a years-long rollercoaster that had only ended the day he left Scott behind in the mud outside of El Reno. 

How you’d been so understanding when he explained that he hadn’t been with anyone since he and Scott had ended it, that the scars of that toxic relationship, however messy it had all been, were still there, not so easily forgettable. How you shared your own experiences, how you related to him, how good you were to him, how you loved him. 

They didn’t care for you. They didn’t like you. 

And not for the first time, it makes him wonder how you’d been with the Wranglers. 

You’d confessed to the tipsy and ill-advised stick and poke Lilly had given you in a parking lot of a motel in Kansas, the Matilda bow on the back of your leg. You’d commented that you were always closest with Dani, the girl like the older sister you’d never had, and that Boone had cared for casual physical touch more than anyone else you’d ever met, something you didn’t realize you needed until he did it. You talked about how you missed Dexter’s stories the most, the man having lived and seen so much life. 

It makes him hope someday he can get you and Addy in a room together, because he knows she’d love you. He wants to get you and Kate’s brains together, if only for his own amusement and entertainment. He wants you and Tyler to retell the stories from the season you’d spent with them, how Ty had been the one to teach you how to play the guitar. 

He wanted you in Oklahoma with him. He wanted you in Oklahoma with him and his family. 

For once in your life, you deserved for a village to care about you the way you cared about them. 

Mickey’s staring at him expectantly and he licks his lips. “Kate-” 

That was instantly the wrong choice as something dark twists in his cousin’s face. “Don’t bring that bitch up to me.” Mickey snarls. 

“Look, I know you ain’t the biggest fan of her-” 

“Understatement of the fucking century.” Mickey says through a humorless laugh. “And you know why, don’t you? Because maybe if that girl had cared about anybody but her damn self in the aftermath, I wouldn’t have had been the one to call the paramedics while my best friend sat in a pool of his own blood trying to kill himself.” 

And that- wasn’t exactly fair. 

Kate had closed herself off, gone to New York and never came home, but he’d subconsciously pushed her off after Addy and Kate had gotten discharged from the hospital. 

Because he had believed they would be better off. Because he believed that they had needed each other more than they needed him. The only people in the whole world who would understand what Kate and Addy went through was Kate and Addy. All he had done was sit uselessly in a van. 

It’s why he had dodged Addy all these years, despite her numerous and persistent efforts to get in touch with him. 

“Maybe if Kate had been smarter, none of that shit would’ve ever happened at all and they’d still be here. You really think that girl will follow you back to Oklahoma? You think she’s going to go back to the Wranglers for you? She won’t and I don’t blame her. Not when you’re still clearly in love with Kate.” 

By now, his heart is hammering in his chest, brain swimming as he fights to keep up, to process the insults as quickly as they come, as Mickey’s voice rises and he sees both you and Reuben turn at the sound of the commotion. 

“Yeah, I was in love with Kate.” He admits softly. “But that- that ain’t what it is anymore. Ain’t what it’s been in a long time Mickey. And I’m not- not a fucking idiot. I know what I have is good. And maybe she’ll come back to Oklahoma and maybe she won’t. But I- I know that I love her. And it scares the fucking shit out of me okay, Mickey?” 

Mickey’s face softens as he stumbles back through the cold sand, hand landing clumsily on his shoulder. “Javi, I-”

He shakes his head, nudging his hand off. “I think you’ve said enough.” 

-

“So, things got pretty heated between you and Mickey tonight.” 

He huffs out a humorless laugh, running a hand over his face as the two of you sit in the In-N-Out parking lot, red lights gleaming back inside the car. 

You’d always been able to see right through him. 

You feign nonchalance, taking a sip of your drink. “What was that all about?” 

He swallows, hard. “I wouldn’t-” His voice comes out in a painful rasp and he swallows again. “I wouldn’t even know how to-”

His breath hitches as he thinks it over. 

He- he really loves you, and he knows that. But he knows it’s selfish to ask you to sacrifice everything and go back to Oklahoma with him. 

“It’s- I’m selfish, I think-” He swipes his palm over his eye, pressing hard to push back the sting of tears. “I don’t know.” 

You frown, shifting to take out and reach his hand. Your thumb rubs gently over his knuckles as you look at him. 

“Hey- you know I love you right?” Eyes wide, he raises his head to meet your concerned gaze. “Whatever it is, I’ll back you.” 

“You-?”

You swallow, eyes glancing back out at the bustling restaurant. 

“Yeah. I do. There’s no pressure to say it back if you aren’t in that place, I just-”

“No.” He says, swallowing. “No, I love you too.” 

His grip on your hand becomes tighter, a small and yet pained smile on your face. 

“Is this about Kate?” 

He chokes on his own fear, letting go of your hand at the sound of her name leaving your mouth. 

His arms meet his knees as he bends over in the cramped space, fingers coming up to tug at his curls. 

He can hear you move again, hands slowly starting to rub circles on his back. 

“Javi, hey.” You soothe. “It’s okay, I’m here.” 

“But for how long?” He rasps out, squeezing his eyes shut. “How long until-” He cuts himself off, not wanting to picture how long it’ll be before you walk out the door. 

Minutes? 

Days, maybe? 

Weeks, if he’s lucky. 

How long will he get to keep you, before you see that nasty thing inside him? That thing that had made him blame Kate after Stillwater? That thing that had made him leave Scott defenseless in the mud?

He should end it now, before he can hurt you. 

But he’s weak. He’s always been weak. 

The scars on his wrist prove that. 

“For as long as you want me here, okay? Javi, if this is about Kate and Oklahoma and- and finishing what you started, I want you to know I’m there with you.” You say softly, hands never leaving his body. 

He steals a glance at you with a quick turn of his head but you’re faster, one of your hands darting out to keep his head from turning away from you again. 

“Hey, is that what this is about?” 

“I- I want to go back but I don’t want- I want you with me. But I know it’s selfish of me to ask that of you.” 

You shake your head. “Hey, it’s not selfish. Remember I spent a season storm chasing?” You make a face, akin to as if you’ve just tasted something sour. “I may not really get the appeal, but I do get the Oklahoma charm. I didn’t buy a house out there for no reason.” 

He swallows, realizing he’d forgotten all about that part. 

Oklahoma had once been your home as much as it had once been his. 

“If you want to go back to Oklahoma, then I’m right there with you. If you want to tell them all to fuck off and stay here in San Diego then I’d support you in that too. What I’m saying is, you don’t have to worry about me. Make the decision you know is best for you, and I’ll follow you wherever you want to go.” 

He searches your face for any inkling of hesitation or untruth. 

There is none. 

Something in him must shift because the smile you give him now is real, genuine. 

“I want it. I want to go back to Oklahoma, I- I need to. It’s-” He cuts himself off as he licks his lips, suddenly at a loss to explain how much this means to him, how much he needs to do this with those people. 

“I’m all in, baby.” 

[rei-ismyname]

For your choose violence ask game, 1 and 12, please!

Hey there, this is fun!

1. Character that everyone gets wrong. Funnily every ask has included this, but I'm not going to repeat myself. Instead I'll find a different way to vagueblog about certain of my fellow X-Men fans.

Hank McCoy, aka the Beast, specifically his tenure as Director of X-Force. One group of people simply choose to ignore the run entirely (which is valid - if you don't enjoy then ignoring it can be healthy,) and many reduce him to war crimes memes, which is also valid. I'm definitely not defending his actions at all, but I don't often see the complicity and accountability of the Quiet Council and his subordinates mentioned. Ben Percy's choice to reboot him from factory settings was one I found unsatisfying as it short circuited any kind of trial or reckoning - and everyone else's guilt has been forgotten.

There was a teeny bit of subterfuge

Firstly, every single member of the Quiet Council was there for X-Force's formation and received reports. His first act was torturing a prisoner. There's no arguing that Krakoa needed some kind of security apparatus, but they failed to provide any guidelines, zero checks and balances. They told Hank to protect Krakoa by any means necessary and handed him a morally blank check. He chose to do the things he did but he was enabled by those who knew even after he left Krakoa. They chose to keep him out in the world as a deniable asset. Again, not to diminish his culpability but the monster that was Hank McCoy had many parents. The simple fact that he wasn't very effective at protecting Krakoa should have been cause for review, even if the ethical calculus is non existent.

His team didn't have all the information but they had enough to know better and were involved in the team in the first place. 'Just following orders' should be odious to modern readers, and even Jean chose to quit while leaving the system in place rather than do anything about it. They eventually moved to a better model, but after genocides were met with light scoldings I wasn't surprised at the degree of sunk cost fallacy Beast fell into. I wish we got a serious meditation on how you can't be the director of the CIA without damaging your soul irreparably, but I think we got enough to illustrate my point. I often wondered how he felt about everything - during the first Hellfire Gala he asked Xavier if he'd disappointed him and heard 'not yet' back - I got the impression he was outsourcing his morality and it's unsurprising that he was able to reconcile it with his actions.

Solicits for X-Men #8 show the President of Terra Verde at Graymalkin to see Beast punished for his crimes. It's a shame he can't remember any of it because it was done by someone else. There's no Quiet Council or Krakoa to punish anymore, and I'm disappointed that accountability never came for any of the guilty people.

12. The unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them.

EXODUS, baby. Two of the big themes of Krakoa were compromise and community, and Exodus' previous publication history showed he was not well suited to either (except for that bizarre time he worked for SHIELD but I ignore that.) Up to that point he'd been an obscenely powerful religious fundamentalist and mutant supremacist but hadn't had enough page time to explore that in any depth.

Seriously, his style is out of this world.

When he arrived on Krakoa and was given a seat on the Quiet Council he was absolutely both of those things, though he proved himself committed to good governance without any agenda. By being part of an ostensibly egalitarian community for the first time he became a true believer and slowly ditched his old methods of blunt force for community-building and fiercely protecting it from outside threats. He compromised while looking fabulous.

Exodus had frequent campfire educational sessions with kids, he rewrote scripture as his theology evolved (Jesus as the Nazarene Mutant is everything to me,) he put his faith in Hope and Krakoa as a polity but moreso as a people. He tried to convince Doug to die temporarily so he could take his place in X of Swords, risking permanent death. His labelling of Wanda as The Pretender was pretty uncomfortable, but after The Trial of Magneto he invited her in to tell her own story.

Then Immortal X-Men began and the 3 event comics put him through the wringer. First was Judgement Day where he fought and killed towering death machines while simultaneously leading the psychic countersiege on the Uni-Mind. He was tested by the Progenitor with a public simulation of his old boyfriend in hell. He stuck to his code and passed, but he also bumrushed a demon to free Garrington from his grasp. Exodus objected to humans being resurrected, but he still accepted Nightcrawler's argument. When Syne the Memetaur was resurrected for the last time, he rushed to fight her but lowered his fists when she started to talk about poetry. He ended up collaborating with this cthulhu that had torched Krakoa and killed countless mutants to fight a celestial and save the world for everyone. Compromise.

After Sins of Sinister, he accepted his capacity for evil and submitted to very unpleasant measures to ensure Sinister's influence was purged. When the fight kicked off he stuck to the agreement and didn't join the fight, even at Hope's request. His breakdown after he tried to kill the very obvious bad actor Selene highlighted the flaws of Krakoa's government, and played a crucial part in transition to democracy.

Fall of X prevented that being implemented, and after thrashing a ton of sentinels he pivoted to the safety of everyone else, especially The Five. When the Krakoan diaspora ended up in the desert of the White Hot Room, he wore a midriff and stepped up for 250K scared and leaderless mutants - choosing to inspire and protect instead of his old methods - he'd come full circle. His actions after that are a whole other post, but I hope I've made my point. I don't trust religious fundamentalists, generally speaking. My kneejerk reaction to Exodus was 'fuck, he's going to ruin everything' but he avoided the hypocrisy and selfishness, the refusal to allow change that underpins my experience with IRL fundamentalism. He compromised and grew, and definitely walked the walk.

Is he unhinged? Yes, fortunately. Does he have some bizarre beliefs? Absolutely, but they weren't based on nothing and he ended up being right. When Hope was prepping to sacrifice herself to rebirth The Phoenix he begged to die in her place. He was the only adult to level with Kafka and be honest with him about the reality of the White Hot Room. More than most he committed to the promise of Krakoa and put everything into making that a reality. He's also not fooling anyone with his vow of celibacy not being related to his true love dying 900 years ago.

[fuutaprotectionsquad]

Am I the only one who doesn't think Shidou's gonna snap at Amane? Like ive seen so many people taking his "it's my job as an adult to teach you that throwing a temper tantrum isn’t going to make everything go your way" line as indication that he's going to hurt her in some way and like?? What, is he not allowed to be annoyed that she's literally threatening him? That doesn't mean he's gonna beat her up. He literally follows this by saying "If it’s a test of endurance you want, I’m happy to oblige." Aka "I'll continue as I have been." I don't think he's going to do anything to her. In fact, it'd be more in character if he let her kill him. Which, with the way he's making sure theres someone else to handle Mahiru + the kids if he's not there (Yuno / Kazui), it's totally possible he's preparing to die or be gravely injured by her.

I've seen a few people dismiss Amane's threats towards him because "if he can't defend himself against a child, thats on him" and I- Firstly, the victim blaming mentality on that one is baffling. Secondly, has Milgram taught you nothing about underestimating children?? And finally, Shidou still sees Amane as a kid, he's not gonna fight back. Do you know how hard a fight is when you're trying not to hurt the other person, who has a weapon and also will not hold back like you are? I'd imagine it's pretty difficult.

The Shidou hate has gotten so unreal its almost funny. Like the people saying he doesn't actually care about / value the opinions of children. As though he doesn't go out of his way to ask Muu how Haruka (a child) is doing because he's worried about him. As though he doesn't have two timeline conversations about how he believes children are hope for the future. As though he doesn't admit to being upset that Amane doesn't like him, and then proceed to get sentimental on her birthday. Not to mention that he says he specifically wants a child like Es to tell him he's guilty, instead of the law.

And people saying he doesn't care about Mahiru / is being forced to help her. Meanwhile he's literally risking his life to do so, and has no reason to listen to anyone telling him to if he didn't genuinely want to. Someone said something about his smoke break with Kazui showing that he didn't value Mahiru's health because he was... taking a break?? And that if she was in such dire health that he couldn't handle much else in the prison, he shouldn't be taking that break. Even though we've seen that Mahiru doesn't need to be monitored 24/7, and has Yuno to help even if she did. Because news flash, people need to take breaks in order to function? That's the point of the timeline, Kazui telling him to rest and not overwork himself.

I just. take psychic damage every time someone grabs a random Shidou line/action and twists it to make him seems like a selfish asshole. Like by all means, you can hate Shidou, I don't particularly care for him myself. But at least hate him for reasons that are actually canon to his character.

Its likely something will happen with Shidou in T3 that makes him seem more guilty. Thats just how Milgram is, he seems really innocent now so they'll sprinkle in a lil guilty to keep it balanced. But Milgram also doesn't switch up characters out of the blue, every new reveal is led up to. I'll be genuinely surprised and probably kinda annoyed if he ends up hurting Amane or Mahiru purposefully.

[starberry-cupcake]

Hello, I haven't had time to read as much as I would want but I'm here with an update regardless, because if I don't keep these constant, I'm gonna forget things and this, so far, seems like a book in which I don't wanna forget things.

previously, in harrowbean the ninth:

this happened

currently, after "parodos" and ch. 1:

so I'm making up a timeline in my head with the information at hand

which is never straightforward

that'd be too easy, here in tlt we like to be kept on our toes

we like to be punched in the gut when we least expect it

so get ready for bad math

this would probably make our good friend palmolive atreides weep

I'm sorry palomilve's force ghost, I'm doing my best

SO

the first entry was the night of the emperor being terminated

the "parodos" bit (we'll get to that) is 14 months before the emperor is snuffed out

ch. 1 is nine months before the emperor kicks the bucket

I believe act 1 is going to be happening around that time, since ch. 2 seems to be following without another indication

because of what happens in "parodos" aka flashback, aka prologue 2: elecric bogaloo, we can attempt to estimate when the events of gideon happened

harrowbean tells ortus in the flashback that he's gonna train with aiglamene for 12 weeks

let's assume that's kind of the amount of time gideon trained, plus the time it took harrow to plot how to girlsplain, gatekeep and gaslight gideon into it

the only one girlbossing here is camilla, I don't make the rules

so, if gideon and harrow were ready to leave the ninth somewhere around 2-3 months after the flashback, it'd be circa 11 months before the events in the prologue

and ch. 1 starts 9 months before the events in the prologue

so gideon might have happened somewhere around 11-10 months before the prologue

I can't tell how long they were in canaan house (it felt like 12 years and 5 minutes at the same time) but I think about a month is mostly right, given that once bodies start dropping, things are all happening together

all of this is relative, since time in space is ????

but I need to do this for my own peace of mind

if you give me time measurements I'm gonna measure, ok?

I need to organize things

I know I will end up making a graphic at some point I just know it

this is what I get for calling palmolive a turbonerd

ANYWAY, MOVING ON

or, moving back, since we're in prologue 2: electric bogaloo aka flashback time

here we have ortus (the one we knew, not the one we will get to know, according to the characters list) telling harrow he doesn't wanna go to the field trip

this is ortus

if you're wondering why I don't nickname ortus, I'll repeat myself but "orto" means "ass" where I'm from, so that's enough to remember him by

harrow is like "I know you're underqualified but we're understaffed, so it is what it is"

the important part is that harrowbean says she sees the barbie in the freezer walking about

like a ghost or whatnot

she refers to her as "the body" and I assume that's barbie in the ice cube because someone reblogged my recap where I mentioned her and tagged

ever since then I've been wondering why she was referred to as The Body and now I'm gonna assume this is it

so harrow tells ortus he needs to hide the fact that she's mentally unstable

[non funny side note: masking is unbearable and it's awful we live in a social and cultural environment where we feel pressured to do it, especially when you're an adult having to fulfill expectations of supposedly "age-specific" activities and responsibilities, it's exhausting and I cried about that in therapy a mere week ago so, hitting hard, this bit

don't let people make you feel "less than" because the way in which you navigate the world and your experiences is different from what's expected in some theoretical socially constructed category

and fuck everyone who, in order to put people down in arguments online, ever make fun of those who aren't mentally, economically or socially as independent as what the category of an adult is supposed to be to them

argue with concepts, argue with opinions and facts, don't tear people down in the name of "moral upper hand" by telling people they're losers for needing help

side note done]

so, harrow entered the whole canaan thing not only carrying the weight of her house, her family and her entire people

she also came into it believing she's not mentally sound and seeing The Body walking around unnoticed by other people

whether or not her visions are mentally unsettled or something that actually happens because she opened the tomb, just the whole situation of her birth is enough to make anyone collapse, so we got you, harrowbean

we're here for you

and all that without mentioning what it'd be like seeing your girlfriend cavalier impale herself in front of you

I'm taking liberties with the 'girlfriend' bit but idk

so, next we know, 5 months have passed from that and harrowcita is struggling in her new environment of the clown emperor's ship

she is made to carry gideon's sword and she can't

she can't seem to know what to do or to communicate with said knowledge and she's throwing up a lot

WHICH IS GREAT!!!!!

I mean, it's not great that she's suffering

but it's GREAT because if she can't communicate with gideon's slurped soul, maybe it means gideon's soul has not been slurped AT ALL

more fuel for my wishful thinking of gideon's soul returning to her and getting regenerated and saved and being alive

I also like very much this situation in which harrow sees the sword as personified and they hate each other without gideon

it's like prim's cat in the hunger games with katniss

but with an inanimate object

I'm really liking that dynamic

is like they both miss her and can't relate to each other

ALSO barbie body ice cube is still there

just chillin' and being silently supportive, I think

not sure what her deal is but what if she's not the bad one here? because this emperor kind of sucks tbh

not in a 'he's evil' way but in a 'idk if he know what he's doing' way

I don't know about this guy tbh

so we're leaving off with harrow being mentally and physically struggling, ghost barbie roamin' the rooms, voices of people organizing stock and gideon in my head like this, walking in limbo to get back to us

also, another day without camilla

I thought I wasn't gonna have much to say and this is so long, I'm so sorry...

[herefortheships]

Here it is! My first fanfic in over TEN years! This fic is for today's Destiel fandom event Electric Boogaloo, hosted by @blanketforcas in celebration of the anniversary of the Latam dub giving us canon reciprocal Destiel.

The theme of the event is reciprocation, and that is the theme of my little fic. I hope you like it!

(I wanted to also share this to AO3 and contribute to the over 100,000 Destiel fanworks, but I haven't gotten my invitation yet! So this will go over there eventually.)

Word count: 1,778 words

No warnings of any kind. I think it's a sweet kind of story.

Short summary: Dean sits down to write a letter for Cas with all the things he didn't get to say.

Felicidades a Dean y Castiel en este aniversario. Siempre quiero recordar la alegría (y el DOLOR de ALMA lol) que estos dos me han dado desde el 2012 hasta el día de hoy. Los amo. 😊✨

(Congratulations to Dean and Castiel in this anniversary. I always wat to remember the joy (and the PAIN of my SOUL lol) these two have given me since 2012 until today. I love them. 😊)

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

The words he never said

A short fic by Here for the Ships (Des 💚)

Dean Winchester sat at his desk with nothing but a pencil, a sheet of paper, and a bottle of booze. Sam was out in an early morning run with the dog, so Dean was alone with some time to kill and some thoughts to finally drag out of his head and smother away with this one sheet of paper. It had been over two months, now, since he had been forced to part ways with Cas; since his entire world had been turned inside-out and upside-down.

He wasn’t sure if he had processed everything; from the loss of Cas, to defeating Chuck (aka the God), to living in a world where his new God had been a surrogate son to him only a couple of months ago.

The events of those days played often in his mind, when he found himself alone; they paraded in his dreams as he tried to sleep at night… The grief of what was lost had become a constant companion, peering through any moment of peace in the most unexpected ways. A song suddenly playing in the radio, a scent attached to a moment he would never get back.

Dean had considered taking it on as his one mission in life, hunting down the Empty and getting Cas back. But no. He had learned it well and deep by now, that revenge never resulted in anything good. Plus, he’d had enough of dealing with supernatural beings with ineffable, omnipotent powers. Chuck was the final Big Fish he took down, and he was good with that.

Dean took a look at the bottle of room-temperature beer for a few seconds, and he pushed it back on his desk instead of taking a sip this time. It’d hurt, but these words needed to be said. Or at least, he needed them out of his head and stored somewhere else.

“Well, Cas… These are the things I never said…” he said to himself, picked up the pencil, and got to writing:

Last night I prayed to Jack, again… And Cas, buddy, you know how much I hate having to do that. But I had to. You know, I thought I had accepted it, that I was over it. You did what you had to do, and I did what I had to do… We were all doing what we thought was right. But it just keeps playing over and over, and over in my head.

Cas, what the hell were you thinking? I’m not one for judging… I’ve done my share of stupid things, too. For love, for not wanting to be left alone… But Cas, how could you do this to me? I know it sounds fucking selfish, because you’re gone, and because of that we’re all safe and your sacrifice wasn’t it vain—it was never in vain, I really hope you know that. But Cas, now I have to live knowing that you’re gone because you loved me. You loved me. You said all those things about me, I can scarcely remember all of it (trust me, I’m kicking myself about it every freaking day), but I can feel it, everything. I can feel every damned word, every damned day.

Just so you know, because of you… Because of you I could see more in me. Because of you I could see myself differently than I ever did before. Man, I wish I wasn’t so bad with this… That I could put into words just what that all meant to me, what it means to me.

You said all those things about me, and I didn’t get to say anything. And yeah, just like I’ve prayed to you, hoping you could hear what I had to say, I’ve also prayed to Jack. I’ve prayed almost every single night for him to get you out of that place; for him to set things right… But I haven’t heard a word from Jack, and I haven’t seen a flutter of angel wings anywhere; nothing to connect me to Heaven, nothing to give me a clue on what to do….

Every night, the scene of your death plays inside my head, like a freaking movie I can’t look away from no matter how much I want. And in my head, I always stop it from happening. In my head we face the Empty together and we win. We always win.

Dean stopped for a moment, gathering his thoughts, wondering if writing this would be enough.

I think I took it for granted, that we always win. I think at some point I felt invincible. You know, you and me, and Sam, we’ve taken some pretty Big Fish. I think something inside me always felt like we’d always win, that we’d always come back to the bunker together and share some beers. I think something inside me always believed that, even though I didn’t fully realize it. Looking back now, I see it. Cas, when you said those words to me, I froze. And it took me a while, you know? To understand what really happened. That I was your happiness.

“No, I don’t think I should put it like that…”

That I was your happiness. That just letting me know how you felt about me was enough to make you truly happy. Enough to make the Empty come and take you. But Cas, now I have to live with that knowledge and it’s driving me fucking crazy, because… Alright, I’m not good with words, and I’m sure by now you know that about me, Cas, but I just wanted you to know, I needed you to know

Dean sat back and sighed a long sigh, staring at the page like it was staring right back at him, somehow shaming him, even though there was no one here to read over his shoulder. “I can’t even write the motherfukin’ words.”

There was no time to finish this now, anyway. He’d heard the door a few minutes ago: Sam was back, and he should be in the shower now. There was a case they were driving up to today, and he’d already made up his mind: it would be his last. He was officially retiring after today (not that he’d told Sam anything about that yet, but… he’d figure out how to say it on the way back).

They were supposed to leave after breakfast for a whole day of driving.

Chuck was defeated and Jack had vanished, having become the new God (that was still crazy to think about). There were no immediate world-ending threats and no more infinitely powerful surrogate son to take care of anymore. He was done hunting. If Cas was truly gone forever, then he’d honor his sacrifice by living the best possible life he could live. And that life, however he looked at it… That life didn’t include hunting. Not anymore.

Dean sat down to tie his boots, and as he did, a second pair of boots appeared right in front of him. “Man, that was fast. I didn’t even hear the damned door just now. You’re gonna have to give me a break, Sammy.” But when he raised his gaze, he found himself looking at Jack, standing there with a small smile.

The color drained out of Dean’s face. For a moment, he could only stare at Jack, wondering if he was imagining it.

“Hello, Dean. You’ve been okay?” Jack said, sounding a little timid, to which Dean replied, “Yeah… I’m fine, no thanks to you… Almost gave this old man a heart attack…” Dean joked, a little breathless, and God or not, this was Jack, so he pulled him into a hug. “Come here. How’ve you been? It’s so good to see you…”

“I’ve been good,” Jack said, and he pulled away. “There’s someone else who’s been wanting to see you." Jack beamed. "Believe me, it took me a while to negotiate (you won’t be surprised to know, not even God is entirely all powerful), but I finally did it…”

And that was when Dean felt it, the powerful presence behind him.

He could do nothing but stand there as the realization of what Jack meant dawned on him, until the words broke him out of the spell, “Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned around, and there he saw…

“Cas…”

Castiel was standing there, right in front of his bed. He was fully restored; Dean didn’t need to see a shadow of his wings to know this was Cas in his full angelic power, safe and alive and standing right there in his bedroom. “But… how?”

“We heard your prayers,” Jack said, “and Cas didn’t belong in the Empty. I had to right a wrong.”

“You damn well had to…” said Dean, still staring at Cas. “Jack…” He finally turned back to thank him—to say anything—but Jack was gone.

“Dean… I’m so sorry…” Cas said. “I should’ve—”

“What are you talking about, man… You’re back… That’s all that matters.”

“I owe it all to Jack. He is everything I hoped he would become,” Cas said, and he smiled.

And then, there was silence. Even though Dean had been writing a long letter just moments ago, full of all the things he wished he could have said to Cas that day, here was Cas in the flesh right now—his Cas—and not a single word would form.

So Dean just pulled Cas into a hug and squeezed him tight, breathing him in.

“I’m sorry it all happened so abruptly; I wish I could—” Cas started.

“I don’t care. Cas… I don’t care.” Dean pulled back from the hug, staring Cas straight in the face with his hands still on his arms. “All I care is that you’re here.”

Cas looked sad, or perhaps, conflicted. “Dean… I know… What I said before…” he started, but Dean stopped him again.

“Cas… If you heard me just now… If you’ve heard my prayers, to you, to Jack… Then you know. But still… I feel like I should say something.”

“Dean… You really don’t have to—”

“But I’m not good at saying something, so…” he pulled Cas into a kiss. It was warm and tender, and salty with the tears that had finally pushed their way out. Cas kissed him right back, and when they stopped, they stood there sharing each other’s breath, with their lips just an inch away from another kiss.

“I think that should be enough of an answer… But if it wasn’t, Cas…” Dean smiled, a small, trembling smile, and it was almost a whisper when he said, “I love you, too.”

[alatismeni-theitsa]

I have some questions abt hellenic polytheism and how its practiced. I myself have been practicing it for a while, but something I noticed while researching about it is a distinct lack of actual greek people in online social media spaces. It was first brought to my attention after seeing a reddit post and youtube video explaining how using “hellenismos” is considered cultural appropriation. After that, Ive noticed how the main sources Ive used about hellenic polytheism isnt really from the people whos culture were trying to practice. AKA non greeks.

I would like to know your explanations on the basics of hellenic polytheism like altars/shrines, khernips, prayers, devotees, tarot/oracle cards, pendulums, kharis, and offerings. There might be some knowledge that I got wrong and need to change, like maybe the way I give offerings needs fixing and I need to give more perishable offerings like food than handmade crafts like art for apollo. And maybe theres a spicic way to do it and not just place it on the altar. Other than websites like hellenicfaith.com, r/hellenism is usually my main source with a grain of salt because of the strange lack of greeks in discussions, and although my friend who is also practicing hellenic polytheism gives me a lot of advice, their main sources are tiktok and. Well, I dont think I need to explain why thats a bad source. (Their main justification is “of course tiktok isnt that serious” and “it comes from the pagans themselves”)

Also, Im also curious on your thoughts about people who practice in secret.

I hope this isnt too long, I just wanna make sure Im using a better source than reddit because, well, its reddit. Not the most reliable source.

Hello! If you don't mind I will also address two more questions I got on the matter, since I feel they are related to yours. They are the following:

Hello all! You did very well to seek Greek sources because you are essentially dealing with a foreign culture and it's not right to assume it looks just like your local one. I will guide you as much as I can but I am very open to being corrected by knowledgeable Greeks and xenoi alike because I am not an infallible scholar. As always, my posts are open to additions in case I missed something.

Let me start by saying I believe it's important to focus on the living Greeks as well, in parallel to your studies of ancient religious texts. Not only were our ancient people diverse with various opinions but... they are also dead and cannot speak anymore. So, it's the alive Greeks who now handle and pass down the culture. If something gives the ick to modern Greeks, it probably goes against what the culture considers appropriate or strange.

Greeks will get "the ick" even if they are not well-read on ancient Greek customs, because the Greek culture largely holds its philosophy when it comes to worship. Disclaimer: This is not an unbroken rule, as some of our cultural elements have shifted or changed, as it happens to all cultures around the globe, and also because a Greek does not know everything. But it's good to keep that general statement in mind.

An example of a practice not seen favorably by Greeks nowadays is some Western women practitioners covering their heads because of Hellenic Polytheism. The ancient faith may demand it but the veil was forced a lot on Greek women and collectively we believe it doesn't make any sense to wear it, even in scenarios of faith tied to our culture. Now, that doesn't mean that it's any of our business if a Hellenic Polytheist wants to veil but it'd be good for this person to have knowledge of the history and rights of Greek women, and really evaluate why they want to veil beyond "the ancients did it", since Greek culture is largely disagreeable to that practice now. Find a larger discussion on veiling here.

Also please capitalize the first letter of Apollo's name because this shows proper respect ;)

Let's dive into specifics a little bit. Our culture was and is practical and anthropocentric. It takes into account reality and environment, as well as human nature.

For the anthropocentric aspect: Yes, there are general guidelines because we are talking about a tradition here but no one will take your head if you do it a bit differently. As for the practical aspect: if you give non-perishable items to the gods by putting them on their altar, in 10 years you won't have a space in your house to stand. If they are non-perishable you have no reason to remove them. Because if you remove them is like taking back offerings that were meant for the deity.

The offerings of Greeks in Polytheism and Christianity included perishable items such as food, candles/oil lamps, flowers, incense, libations, etc. And since they go bad you have a reason to remove them. But you also don't want any waste on the streets or in your house. Even the sacrificed animals were meant to be eaten, and the Greek communities believed that the smell of roasted meat made the gods rejoice. In some cases, offerings that were left outside were meant to be consumed by the homeless and travelers. Everything has a purpose and a reason within that specific community. (Flowers not so much, they are just ornamental)

It's not that you cannot or should not offer non-perishable items to the gods. I'm sure a few don't hurt anyone. Just keep in mind that if the offering is a non-perishable item it is/was usually offered to the temple, so the priests can sustain themselves and continue doing their religious service on behalf of the community. We are talking about coins, clothing, jugs, animals, or whatever else.

Continuing on the matter of offerings. A small rant on how clueless some people seem to be about offerings. It would be weird to knit a winter scarf for a god and then wear it yourself because that's not how dedication/devotion works in the Greek context. Also, leaving that winter scarf on the altar doesn't make sense either because it's just… impractical in the Greek sense. You are wasting a scarf, to put it plainly. But if you make something for one deity then give it to the deity, don't wear it yourself.

I'll tackle a few more specifics now. I think you already know what they mean so I will give my opinion on them rather than explaining them. I think my opinion is shared by many Greeks.

hellenismos -> I am not sure if it's appropriation but it's surely inaccurate. Here is why, for those who wonder, with some suggestions on how to call yourself. (hint: Hellenic Polytheist is fine)

on how to be respectful and accurate: I always recommend reading as many ancient Greek texts as possible the view of the gods directly from the ancient worshipers themselves. You can read whatever texts interest you, including plays. Plays are my favourite source, to be honest. Understand on your own what the text says. The Hymn to Demeter is focused on the pain of a mother, which is pretty obvious, you are under no obligation to hear Kate the TikToker who insists on something different. You don't have to hear YouTubers who tell you Zeus is an asshole when ancient texts show us the opposite, and give a good context on why he does what he does.

altars/shrines -> The altars I've seen are usually fine, so I think western polytheists have this down. The ancient ones would be more homogenous but in our era the religion is unorganized so it's up to the individual to create an altar. Greeks still have altars in their homes as a continuation of our polytheist practices and they also have some variation. Generally, all good here.

khernips -> χέρνιψ literally translates to "washer of hands". It's a Greek practice to have clean hands before touching any sacred objects, either in Dodekatheism or in Christianity. We do not always follow it but it's important. Our old custom is also to wash hands, face, and feet before entering our Christian temples (that's why there are κρήνες outside many of them) but that's not practiced anymore because our hygiene is overall better and we already visit the temple while clean.

The cleansing part will feel natural for most Greeks and not unfit for the whole procedure. You can also cleanse items with water if the purification ritual says so. Don't lose sleep over it. Remember practicality. Khernips is just water with which you wash your hands and you can do it before a meal, like we do today. It is meant to keep you clean but doesn't bear any spiritual force - it's not like the holy water of Christians which is imbued with divine power. It's just water included in a practice that helps the religious person get ready for spiritual time.

Also! Khernips doesn't mean that you wash the whole body! It's second part, νήβω / nivo = rub is connected to cleaning body parts. For the cleanliness of the whole body we used/use "λούω / λούζω". Fun fact, on of the greatest christian temples Hagia Sofia, had a reminder outside the gate with the same verb, and it was an anagram. "ΝΙΨΟΝ ΑΝΟΜΗΜΑΤΑ ΜΗ ΜΟΝΑΝ ΟΨΙΝ", meaning "wash your sins, too, not just your face". This anagram is found in other Christian sites, as well.

prayers -> Any prayer is good. There are only a few ways a prayer can go "wrong", since there's not a subscription for that. For example a prayer has to usually praise the magnanimity of the deity, even if you are just doing it to ask something, but words from the heart are also fine. Zeus won't smite you if you include him in a phrase without praising him first.

devotees -> Afaik this was a rare phenomenon in antiquity and it's only nowadays that Westerners decided that everyone is a devotee, which looks weird to Greeks because being a devotee doesn't work exactly like Westerners do it. You don't get to pick one god, talk 99% of the time about that god, or worship just them and not recognize the whole pantheon, or just give little attention to them.

Ancient Greek towns and people had gods they were closer to, for sure, but from what I know they didn't have the same concept as modern foreign worshipers today. They were not "αφιερωμένοι"/devoted, unless they devoted their life to a deity by serving in their temple. The devoted/devotees were not everyday people.

The everyday people felt closer to some gods in the way someone can have a saint or a prophet that they align themselves with, that they feel like they can see themselves on them, or that these gods see them, or that they are related to their struggles, or have given them some sort of protection. A cultivator of vineyards will probably feel closer to Dionysus, while a fisherman to Poseidon, and a warrior to Ares. It's the same for Christian Greeks, since each of the saints has one domain and we call on them depending on our needs.

I mean, it's okay if modern people want to make new things, but we should also be clear on the nature of the ancient practice.

tarot/oracle cards, pendulums -> They are unrelated to the practice. They are just recent elements of western spiritual fascination, and the ancient Greek religion is already complete without them. If Apollo chooses to reveal himself through tarot he may as well reveal himself on a toaster xD A toaster is as related to the ancient Greek religion as much as tarot cards.

kharis -> Some Westerners overhype foreign words that are, in reality, very simple terms. Kharis is just "the grace of god" and the concept is similar to the grace spoken in Christianity, Islam and Hinduism. Kharis is not lost if you forget to wash your hands once, or if you are afraid that the item you placed on the altar is not good enough. You don't have to tiptoe around it, it's not something incomprehensible and mystical.

miasma -> Nobody asked for it but I am delivering it anyways because I see many new people to the religion treat miasma like they are 5th-century Greeks who will be punished by the plague if they menstruate too close to the altar. I've seen endless discussions online about what miasma is and all the detailed ways that you can avoid it, and how to cleanse everything and... as a 21st-century practitioner you are not supposed to be that fearful. In the Πλυντήρια festival, the statue of Athena goddess was washed clean but also cleansed metaphorically by people's sins. And you can cleanse your statues as well of course but not with the mindset of considering yourself unclean. Do not follow every advice from ancient people who thought women unclean when menstruating. Ironically, this post and this post from r/hellenism have a good approach to this. As one user says:

people who practice in secret -> I don't have particular thoughts for them. If they must hide their spirituality for reasons beyond their control, it's natural for them to do so. I wish them the best in their spiritual journey.

Take a look at my F.A.Q. page, and more specifically on these questions:

Can I worship the Greek gods as a xenos (non-Greek)?

What do Greeks think of people outside of Greece worshiping the Greek gods?

Reading List / Book recommendations on Greek Mythology

Are the Greek gods assholes? // What’s up with gods coupling with mortal women?

Also, when it comes to the practices of the ancient Greek religion, Google Scholar is your friend. Read a variety of scholars and please include Greek ones on your reading list. Western academia focuses a lot on what the myth means to The West today, while Greek academia focuses on what the myths meant in their time. Some classical students report that studying classics in Greece VS in the US can be night and day, and they got a more authentic feeling from the knowledge they gained from the Greek classes.

For gods, festivals, and rituals in Greece, I have some recommendations below, if you’d like to take a look! (The links open directly to them so you can read them for free)

Let it rain’, or ‘rain, conceive’: Rituals of magical rain-making in Ancient Greece, a comparative approach. In Roca, Z. et al. (eds.): European Landscapes and Lifestyles: The Mediterranean and Beyond. Lisboa: Edições Universitárias Lusófonas 2007: 285-304.

Cosmos 17 (2001), 197-251 Rituals of Magical Rain-Making in Modern and Ancient Greece: A Comparative Approach by Evy Johanne Håland

http://en.arch.uoa.gr/fileadmin/arch.uoa.gr/uploads/images/evy_johanne_haland/cosmos_17-2_haland.pdf

p.s., I call Christian temples "temples" because that's how we call them. We use ναός very frequently for our religious buildings.

I hope I covered your questions so far 💙😊 See you around, and have a great day!

✨🌺✨🌺✨🌺✨🌺✨🌺✨🌺✨🌺✨🌺✨🌺✨🌺✨🌺

If my posts have helped you in any way, consider buying me a coffee or giving a Paypal donation. I spend many hours per day on questions and posts, so that would support me a little.

[thegingerjedi]

Day 1: Desperate Kiss

Read on AO3 here, if you prefer!

Summary: Pre-Tearstone Island. Kirruk (aka: "Rook"), goes to Neve to check in on her and find some comfort before they go off to fight what might be their final battle.

If you missed my intro post and need some context, you can read it here.

_____

The anticipation in Kirruk’s gut was growing with every second that brought the Veilguard closer to their final confrontation with Ghilan’nain and Elgar’nan (and probably Solas, if she was being honest). One way or another, their quest was going to end, and soon. 

She decided to check in on everyone, if only to soothe her own nerves. And she left Neve for last, perhaps hoping she might do more than just check in.

Kirruk cautiously pushed open the door to her quarters, only a little surprised to see Neve sitting at her desk, hands pressed to her temples as she pored over a stack of notes.

“Not taking a break?” she said, hanging back and leaning against the doorway, “It’s our last chance before…”

Neve flashed her a quick glance before going back to the papers in front of her, “I’ll get to it. Just need to make sure we’re prepared.”

Her hair fell in her face, then swept carelessly aside by one hand. She was about as disheveled as Kirruk had ever seen her, including after they’d stopped Solas’ ritual and she was horribly concussed. That felt like a lifetime ago.

She took a couple steps closer, “You’re worried.”

It wasn’t a question, but that didn’t stop Neve from replying like it was.

“Maybe.”

“We’ve prepared as much as we can, Neve. You won’t find a secret answer in your notes at this point.”

She sighed, finally looking up at Kirruk, dropping her hands from her face, “You don’t know that.”

Kirruk leaned over the desk and brushed through Neve’s hair with her fingers, tucking it behind her ear and cupping the side of her face. Neve held her breath for a moment, brows furrowed and lips turned down.

“Neve, when this is over-”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, pushing away from Kirruk as she stood and paced to the window with her hand covering her mouth.

Kirruk felt her heart beating in her chest, her throat tight as she practically choked out, “Don’t what?”

A pause.

“Talk about after.” Her voice was low, like she’d fall apart if she spoke any louder, and she refused to even look in Kirruk’s direction.

“I… if this isn’t something you want…”

“That’s not what this is, Rook,” Neve replied, turning on her heel to look at her. Her eyes were beautiful and dark, with tears lingering in the corners.

Kirruk took a hesitant step forward, close enough that she reached out and took Neve’s other forearm in her hand, forcing her to keep eye contact.

“Then what is it?”

She sighed and closed her eyes, “The job? I know one’ll get me eventually. But you…” she breathed shakily, pausing to collect herself before she continued, “I can’t think about ‘after’ and you. Not when… if something happens…”

A tear rolled down her cheek. Kirruk gently brushed it away with her free hand before tucking another stray lock of hair behind her ear, letting her hand linger.

“Neve…”

She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled out of Kirruk’s hold, putting her hand to her mouth again as she turned around, “Oh, I knew you were trouble. It’s one lucky break and close call after another. And you… I let myself… When do the tables turn, Rook? Because they do. They always…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Neve.”

A noise that could only be described as a stifled sob escaped her mouth, “People say a lot of things. They don’t always see it through-”

“I will,” Kirruk replied, willing more certainty into her voice than she felt. The truth of the matter was that she wasn’t sure they’d come back alive, either.

“It’s not that they don’t want to. Not always-”

“I’ll always try.”

Neve turned towards her again and started to pace. Her eyes were wild, her hands were shaking, and her lips trembled. Kirruk watched her, felt the fear and the anxiety bleeding off her in waves.

“You scare me, Trouble.”

The use of her affectionate nickname was enough to stop Kirruk in her tracks, and a long moment of silence stretched out between them.

Finally, Neve just shook her head and made a motion to leave, but Kirruk leaned in as she brushed past, taking hold of her forearm again. In a fit of desperation to get her to stay, Kirruk pulled her in close and kissed her hard. She slid her tongue through her teeth and against Neve’s tongue, making sure to take her time in order to taste every corner of her mouth. It wasn’t graceful, beautiful, or particularly comfortable, but it was genuine. If this was the last time, Kirruk needed Neve to know just how much she loved her.

“Neve, you aren’t alone. Not anymore. Not while I’m around,” she breathed, “I will do everything in my power to make sure we make it out of this alive. I promise you that.”

Neve looked at her hand and then back to her eyes, then leaned in to kiss her again, this time a bit more gently, but there was still something desperate about the way she pressed their lips together. Kirruk dropped Neve’s wrist and wrapped her arms around her before she went in to kiss her again.

“I love you, Neve Gallus,” Kirruk admitted once they separated, “if we don’t make it back, I need you to know that. I love you.”

Neve exhaled, then put her head down on Kirruk’s shoulder, resting her hands flat on her chest, “I know, Rook. I love you, too.”

Kirruk wrapped her tighter in a hug and pressed a soft kiss to Neve’s head, “We can figure out ‘after’ when we get there. But I love you. I love you now, and I’ll love you for as long as I’m able.”

“Promise?” she asked, well aware of the irony of the question.

“Promise.”

[mimikoolover]

More controversial take, but I don’t even think vmins relationship is all that special. It’s based on being same age friends and Jimins babying of Tae but there is no real substance there, at least not on Jimins part. Army hype up the relationship to a ridiculous degree, obsessively so, but take away the affection and what is there? It’s much more obvious they didn’t spend much time together in chapter 2, and I really want people to know that’s okay and it’s normal. People drift and come back together and the love remains, but to me it highlighted how their bond doesn’t extend much outside of work, where as it is so obvious Jikook share life together.

I know the show isn’t a hard launch of Jikooks relationship (whatever it is) but it isn’t not a hard launch. I mean the enlistment should have done that, shocked people to the core but nope, so the show is it. To me it’s them saying we’re close, deal with it, in a way in which we haven’t seen before. Like jkks know they are but Army at large ignore it, and although they still do, they are showing us them. They said that themselves so I know that’s the point. You can see it so clearly it’s impossible to ignore, highlighted even more by Tae’s presence.

Blogger stormy answered an ask earlier about FS in the show and if it’s present, it’s the ot7 mentions. And whilst I don’t think those mentions are forced, that is so true imo. The notion of the ot7 bond is what keeps BTS going, but I think chapter 2 did give them a much needed break, and time apart, again absolutely normal. These are young men, they need space to live their own lives. But the mention of others was sweet, Jimin calling Joon seeing as he was the only huyng not in MS at the time. It’s probably like calling your dad lol. Joon being the only one who turned to see Golden live counts for something in terms of namkooks relationship. Still though, it proves my thoughts and I think Goldy has said this before, that Jimin is the glue that holds them together for the most part. They all love him lots and he’s their centre I think, he tends to do the most ot7 FS (not a negative). It’s no wonder sometimes JK gets hurt in the process (not always on purpose aka the teasing), but man’s got him some alone time with Jimin and book Tae is there. Must have been frustrating. And for him saying it was better with Tae there, he literally followed what Jimin said first. But that’s the ot7, I don’t actually think they were serious, and obviously wanted to be alone, as it was meant to be for the two of them.

I just love the intimacy and domesticity they have, it’s so natural to them, like breathing, I’ve been in a relationship for 8 years and it reminds me of myself and my partner, of when you’re in your own world (we have no kids so have that freedom to be just us), they leave no room for others, and if they do it’s minimal. Although busy chapter 2 will have allowed them time to be them, no group work or content, no members breathing down their throats or trying to separate them. Just time for them, and it shows.

thank you for your thoughts anon and I agree, the show highlighted jikook's 'chemistry' as even the teasers called it😂I thought the same about vmin for a while (few years lol). I don't necessarily trust that when I see people hype something up between members that it's because something is actually there. I think it's more that those people want vmin to be soulmates (forever) so they will keep insisting on that. which I can sympathise with because if after the military jikook were less close, it would hurt me a lot (not afraid to admit that lol) cause I'm invested in their (first of all) close friendship so I would be delulu about it for a while for sure. but in terms of dynamics, I think from around 2016/2017 is when the vminkook dynamic changed and it was when jikook became closer. I do think everyone in bts loves jimin the most though and like you said he is the glue in that respect. jimin always wanted jk tho even just in the sense that some people like having their person (even as just friends, there's two people at my work who def come as a duo of friends and one is a woman married with kids, the other is guy in a long term relationship with his boyfriend, not saying that jikook are this but just saying that as an example that certain people like to have a partner like that and I get this vibe from jikook that they like having a 'partner'). I think for tae and (probably lol) namjoon it's a bit more to come to terms with because they'd like to be jimin's fav (with tae I also get the vibe that he himself wants to be everyone's fav for the sake of that popularity and adoration in addition to him loving jimin). but from 2017 on when jungkook finally started choosing jimin was when the decline between the soulmates started imo (and jk and tae at the same time as well). and since then the situation within the group is that it's jikook + X given member. they come as a duo and the members know it and it is obvious in AYS.

I think ot7 is fanservice but I also think especially jimin and yoongi are very into the concept of ot7 forever so as much as fans are invested in it, I think the members are too (some more than others). it's fanservice sometimes but it's also I think reassurance for them too? but with jungkook in particular he was always ot7, never claiming to choose a fav which I think is bc he's the youngest and he is careful not to hurt any of their feelings. altho he clearly has a fav and it's jimin lol he never really wants the others to feel like he loves them less I think (and that's when we get the 'jimin is not the main model' dramatics even tho he clearly is lol).

[flightyalrighty]

Hello! :D

Was wondering how you manage to stay motivated to write and draw so much at such good quality. I can’t write, but my drawings often feel lacklustre because I keep getting demotivated or I’ll jump to the next unrelated art project, usually a different media entirely. Do you also have times like this? Or do you have a secret to just powering through and keep going.

Very odd and random question I’m sorry hence the anonymity.

Love the infested comic by the way :) thanks for drawing shadow with various expressions yet still maintaining his character, it looks great!

Hello! The answer to this, for me, is a mix of things! Some good, and some bad!

I keep myself on a schedule! I give myself breaks when I need them and I ALWAYS stop working once it hits a certain time (9pm) to ensure I don't end up with burn out

I participate in the practice of "good enough" (as much as I can) aka I don't drive myself up a wall trying to make everything look 100% perfect, especially if it's some background thing that I know most people aren't gonna notice

I have absolutely no life outside of Infested, which is the bad thing. I was unwillingly moved away from all of my friends, I feel like an outcast within my own family, and couldn't land any kinda job beyond the occasional contract work. I almost never leave the house anymore. It's not that Infested has taken over my life, but rather, I truly have nothing else to do besides work on Infested and occasionally play a video game. I wouldn't wish this situation on anyone.

All that said, I will also fall into a pit of being unmotivated on occasion. My schedule drags me outta that pit, but hey, it really does happen to everyone. I definitely get swept up in other ideas that I REALLY wanna work on at that moment but can't because of obligations. That said, I do feel a whole lot of joy working on Infested and would never abandon it prematurely to pursue a different project (unless financial circumstances forced me to).

I wish I could tell ya how exactly to combat that uncommitted sort of feeling. Unfortunately, I don't have an answer for you. Maybe someday you'll find a project that REALLY grabs hold of you and never lets go, and that'll be your own Infested.

[batwynn]

Some examples of stims I did while growing up until I was forced to stop each one by an adult in my life:

Humming/whistling

Copying bird whistles

Chewing on my hair

Chewing on pens/pen caps/pencils/etc.

Matching a sound from around me

Repeating words/phrases frequently

Making ‘weird’ sounds with my mouth

Tapping something/tapping a finger or foot

Singing what I was doing

Blinking in patterns

Constant doodling

And undoubtably more that I don’t even remember.

The result of being forced to stop stimming no matter what stim I tried:

Constantly anxious. Constantly.

I started picking at my skin and pulling out my hair.

More outbursts and/or more shut downs.

I formed a stutter under even the smallest amount of stress.

I became less social. Didn’t talk as much. Didn’t feel comfortable communicating to anyone.

I was markedly less happy.

Restless and unable to focus because stimming helped me work with my ADHD side as well.

Confusion, hurt, and isolation because I was then aware that I was ‘weird’.

I formed a huge distrust of adults around me, including family. Which lead to me getting in trouble for not ‘respecting authority’. (Aka: I asked questions and didn’t take what everyone said as a fact.)

I developed depression.

Oh, and I was still bullied for being ‘weird’ so stopping stimming didn’t even help that. Surprise!

Eventual outcome as an autistic adult:

Constant anxiety that I often can’t source and don’t know how to sooth anymore.

No self soothing techniques work or feel ‘natural’ anymore.

I lean heavily on disassociation to get through the day and/or during stressful moments.

I’m accused of faking it, lying, etc. by people because I learned to mask my autistic traits as best as possible.

Frequently don’t have the language for when I’m overwhelmed, and frequently misunderstood when I try to explain that something is bothering me like fabric texture or sounds.

Treated like I’m incompetent, a child, or a collection of both if I don’t behave ‘perfectly’.

Talked down to a lot.

Still picking at my skin and pulling out my hair. 🥲

Constantly feel like I’m lying about who I am/ frequent identity crisis and impostor syndrome mix up.

Trouble with relationships/friendships to different extremes. (Ex: I was groomed as a kid/teen and didn’t know until I was in my late 20s. Have trouble keeping friendships because I just don’t know how to interact with people the ‘right way’.)

I had to teach myself a lot of ‘regular’ social cues and behaviors by mimicking people around me. That unfortunately doesn’t alway work, and/or comes with accidentally mimicking a personality trait/quark/etc. which leads to people thinking your mocking them or copying them.

A lot of rage for the people who treated me like shit my entire life for being autistic.

Moments of feeling very small and childish when things are out of my control.

Feeling guilty/uncomfortable about some things I like because they’re considered childish. (Ex: stuffed animals.)

Fear of any and all interactions with strangers. Fear of not being able to predict where the conversation will go. Fear of extreme negative reactions even when it doesn’t seem realistic for that to happen.

And more that are so ingrained in my life that I don’t even recognize them anymore.

I can’t not think about how my life could have turned out if those adults had let me be comfortably autistic. I can literally see physical differences in old photos of me, where I just stopped being me. Where the happiness and honesty were bullied out of me. And were my stims and behaviors that bothersome? No, actually. I had already learned to do different stims in different environments so I wasn’t being noisy when I needed to be quiet etc. But that wasn’t good enough, so every stim and every ‘weird’ behavior had to stop. Why? Because these adults had a power over me and other children like me, and they liked to abuse it.

It’s abuse. The end.

[skania]

AquaKane Masterlist: My AquaKane Posts

It's been a while since I've needed to make one of these 😂

How it started:

Playing myself and not dropping OnK because of Akane

The beginning of the Akane brainrot (back when I didn't ship AquaKane) + 1

How it's going:

In defense of Akane:

Some of the things people say about Akane make me wonder if there’s an alternative version of the manga out there

Akane's Star Eyes (+1)

Akane wasn't a bad influence on Aqua (the manga literally tells us the opposite)

Akane wasn't trying to manipulate Aqua by acting like Ai

Akane wasn't being manipulative when she tells Aqua that he needs to be careful if he wants to date Kana

Was Akane wrong for telling Aqua to make his own choice?

Thoughts on people calling Akane obsessed instead of in love

Is Akane a plot-device?

AquaKane:

In Defense of AquaKane:

Let's talk about Aqua "using" Akane

Akane wasn't just "a tool" to Aqua (and it's an insult to both characters to claim otherwise)

It’s so funny how Aqua talks big about manipulating Akane, yet she ends up being the person he is most honest with in the entire manga

I’ve seen people criticize Akane’s reply to Aqua in Chapter 52, but I think Akane actually said exactly what Aqua needed to hear (+ clarification/follow-up)

I keep seeing people saying “aqua only wanted to date akane because he couldn’t date kana”, but i’m not convinced things are that white-and-black

Aqua, Akane and their relationship during his “freedom” period

Aqua in a nutshell

Could Akane be wrong about Aqua having romantic feelings for Kana? (Yes, she could be)

What I like about AquaKane +1

AquaKane Chapters Meta:

Chapter 42

Chapters 71 & 72

Chapter 78 + Akane's Tears

Aqua & Akane’s phone call in Chapter 97 + French Translation

Aqua, Akane & Chapter 98

Can we please talk about how silly Aqua is? (Chapter 116) +1

Chapter 131

Chapter 148

Chapter 149

Chapter 150

Chapter 152

Chapter 153: The many parallels between Kamiki -> Ai and Aqua -> Akane

Chapter 154: The many parallels between Ai -> Kamiki and Akane -> Aqua

Theories:

What did Aqua mean when he said that Kana helped him figure out his feelings for Akane?

Aqua wants Akane to know he's Goro + Akane has most of the pieces to figure it out

Theory on why Akane's White Star is on when she tells Aqua that she'll always be his ally

Ichigo/Miyako & AquaKane foreshadowing

Replies to the Aqua's Black Star Eyes AquaKane Theory: 1 | 2

Aka treats Akane like an extension of Aqua himself

Tokyo Blade and the narrative

Do you think Aqua and Akane will get back together or stay close friends?

AquaKane Parallels:

you're better off without me

too many to count

do you like this Akane? (aka the moment AquaKane got me)

their development

soon or later, you may end up being a real couple

chapter 131 & chapter 52

this relationship isn't real + french translation

Misc:

Has Akane ever made aqua smile? 

Toxic traits in their relationship? Sure, they’re both self-sacrificial people to a fault (+ 1 ask)

AquaKane Timeline

AquaKane and Unconditional Love

"Akane" vs "Kurokawa Akane" (how the way Aqua addresses her changes through the manga)

AquaKane Highlights Compilation (per arc)

Thoughts on the "Love Triangle"

I'm adding this section despite myself, but since Aka has forced my hand into talking about this more than I'd have liked to, here it goes 😂

Opinion on Aqua and Kana

Thoughts on the Akasaka 2021 tweet about Akane and Kana

I do think that Aqua’s feelings for Kana actually being platonic is the most interesting route

Aqua's "obsession" with Kana

Kana's parallels with Sarina: Kana is everything Aqua idolized Ai to be (aka, honest like Sarina) +1 + Even more parallels and a theory about their purpose

Kana may be meant to be "Everyone's Heroine" just like Fujiwara in Kaguya

Chapters 150 and 151

Revisiting Akane's monologue about relationships & dependency

Extras:

Replies to OnK-related Messages/Asks

Thoughts on the Starry Eyes

Thoughts on OnK's writing

[ayrtonswnna]

ʚïɞ "why would you do that?"

pairing: chris sturniolo x olivia rubens (oc)

warnings: drug addiction, mentions of underage drug use, drinking, cursing, fighting and a whole lot of angst. protagonist with a name (aka as original character), sort of a happy ending and written by someone who doesn't have english as their first language, take it easy.

in witch chris' dealer knows him for too long and can tell exactly what's going on.

chris sturniolo x dealer!oc

"you either take that little boy out the damn backyard or i'll take care of him by myself. you choose"

i sigh out loud, ranging my chair back and rubbing my face in a nervous reaction. christopher, christopher is at the damn backyard. he's there for a motherfucking hour.

"did you hear me, miss?" my older brother speaks a little louder, throwing a pen into my table to make sure i'm here. "give him whatever the fuck he wants and tell him to fuck off. you're no mom, no therapist, no whatever."

my fingers reach for the pen before i throw it back. i'm no mom and no therapist, i'm just childhood friends with the said little boy. and i actually don't have what he wants, the type of shit chris started to come here for are the kind i don't order anymore, i don't let ryan come around with, i don't let the subject reach the table.

i fucked up already. this right here was my mistake and my mistake only, was my dad heritage and my fate. the apple can't fall so far from the tree and i can accept that. me and ryan, my brother, took over the spot for a few years now and chris was already into some stuff when i got here.

then we messed around and found out. simple blunts became white lines, then candies, then pills. then whatever we had in storage.

until chris was forced into rehab last year. i wanted to disappear, felt like the worst person ever. well, i can't scape my own life and the shit i lived down for, so i disappeared from chris' life.

fuck it. i'd be for the best and i thought it would work. he knew no one else with the shit, i dragged him into this mess and could put him out too.

the joke's on me, he's showing up every now and then, back from rehab and trying to get back to his old habits too. i'd be a bitch if i let him do that.

"olivia?" ryan insists. i am truly trying to avoid chris now. soon or later he'll leave, that's what i'm telling myself for days now. "fine- i'll do it my way"

"no, ryan. leave it. i'll work it out"

ryan hits and fights. usually i let him solve this kind of problem, it's easier and quicker. but not this time, not with chris.

so i stand up, put everything on my table together and take my last deep breath. i need it to be fast. i put my hoodie on and then walk towards the fucking back door. jesus christ.

winter is approaching and it is cold as fuck outside. it ain't a surprise when the blue eyes meet me and they're all red, along with the whole pale face standing right in front me.

"liv! why would you do that? i am standing here, waiting for a fucking show up and you didn't even bother!"

my heart races. he's not sober.

the voice takes time to leave his lips, his steps aren't so sure about what to do and i hate what i see in his gaze. god, i hate everything about this.

"what do you want, chris? you need to leave, you need to go home." i close the door behind me, resting my body against it and trying to contain the hurt look on my face.

this is the boy i grew up with, we shared beds, sippy cups, ate from the same plate, sat by each other's side in kindergarten. now i gotta ignore him and keep him away from the bullshit i put him on. life's fucking lame.

"what i want, olivia? i want you to stop being such a hypocrite and go back to who you are." he approaches, the eyes going dark, the hair in a fuzzy mess. "give me what i need and i'll leave. you can go back to forgetting i exist as soon as you drop my shit off."

i shake my head in denial. i knew he's hurt by our sudden distance, i am hurt too. but it's for the best, completely for the best.

"i couldn't ever forget you exist, chris." i sigh. "just... i just won't do what you want, 'm sorry. i have nothing on me right now"

he loses the focus for a bit. the fingers interlocks in between his hair and he shakes a little bit. fuck.

"liv, i know- i know you think you're doing what's right and saving me from the fucking mess you put me in in first place, but that's not what it is! i need to feel something and i need it soon! what can't you- fuck! why can't you just be the irresponsible little bitch you have always been and give me the fucking pills!?"

no words, not even a breath. it hits me like a knife, it cuts like his words were sharpened. there isn't much to say, because i know he's fucking right.

"olivia, you always knew what i needed, you gotta help me right now." his arms go up a little bit, like he's showing me how fucked he is. as if i couldn't see it before. "i need it all to go away, i just need to chill. you know what always works, you do!"

"yeah, going home, and-and talking to the boys, having a full meal, call mom, dad. that is what you need. did you try that?"

he's back to approaching. i'd be panicked if it was a client, i'd be calling ryan. but that's just chris.

"who's mom? who's dad? who in the fuck would really want a child like this?" he points at himself, getting closer and closer. i can see it even with my blurry vision. "i don't want to see no one, i want what you have and then i'll be gone. promise"

my eyes close shut for a slight second, until a freezing cold hand meet the side of my face and a forehead meets mine. fuck. truly, fuck.

"olivia, please. i am begging you for real. give me anything. any fucking thing. i've got the money, how much do you need?"

my hand touches his, then my eyes meets his. destroyed, completely destroyed.

"i am so, so sorry, chris. i have nothing for you." it sounds like a whisper. i take his hand off my face, squeezing it just enough for it to warm up a little bit. "how long are you here? back home?"

"a month or so." answers, symply. "i need them, liv. i am begging you, i'd get on my knees for them, i-"

"you really need to go, chris. i'm gonna call matt to come and pick you up, fine? just-"

i had my phone in my hand in a second and in the other i didn't anymore. he wonders for a minute about what he's going to do with it, than he touches his own face, scratches it, stumble around and i watch. i hated being me everyday after he got sent off. it felt like being on the devil's skin just by seeing him that way.

chris is not the type of guy that should be here begging to drug himself. chris deserves a whole beautiful bright future, he's so much more than this.

and that's why i can't fight when he grabs my phone, or go feral or too serious when he's here like this. i can't treat him any worse.

"whatever you want to give me, olivia. just for one use. no need for more."

i inhale deeply, feeling the cold air fill my lungs. fine. is that what he wants?

"c'mon, let's go" i grab his arm, making our way out the backyard and into the front door.

when dad started selling stuff when we were kids, he sort of divided the house. you can access the back of it through the front door, but you gotta go through another door that's usually locked. chris and i are not going where he wants to.

"why is... why are we inside? i don't- olivia, what the fuck are you doing?"

he doesn't stop me from guiding him through the corridor and then to my room. he looks around, go quiet for a few whole minutes and then let out a little sigh, hugging his own body as i walk around and take the blankets off the bed.

"you know what you need, chris? some rest." i say, as i approach and hold his arms, letting my hands go up and down on the tattooed skin. he only has a black t-shirt on. "lemme take care of you and then we find out what we'll do, ok? hum? put some warm clothes on and sleep a little bit, what do you think?"

his eyes water and his dry lips part, he says nothing else. i don't know what he's been taking or whatever, but he is not at the best of his consciousness.

"sometimes i... sometimes i tried to fuck up just to see you come and fix it, but- but you never did it anymore." he admits, as another wave of blame hits me hard.

yeah, i'm great at fucking up people's life and everything, but i take care of my people. i'd go to war for them and sometimes war is just denying injectable shit for my childhood friend.

"i'm fixing today." i didn't mean it to sound like a whisper, but it did.

i reach for the hoodie on my mess-chair, one that was chris' before being mine.

"why did you go away? i was waiting for you to visit, or call... or... or i don't know" he is losing his way, his pupils are so wide i almost can't see the blue.

the lips shaking, the hands the same and the skin even more and more pale. there's another situation when i call ryan, when i need somebody who went to med school at some point. my brother did.

so i leave him a text and keep my cool, i take a deep breath and guide chris onto the bed, so i can help him out with hoodie since he's taller.

"i was taking care of you, trust me."

he was waiting for me but not only me. he was waiting for me with a backpack and transparent bags, and them disposable syringes.

"i needed you to this before"

when we were younger, he had this episode when we started tasting some worst things and he had a bad trip. i did exactly what i'm doing right now, let him rest his head on my stomach, let my fingers run in between his hair and press his scalp just a little bit. him sitting on this exact same bed, me standing in between his legs. just like right now.

"i do trust you my life, actually" contrasts. he shouldn't.

"what did you take, chris? i need to know"

"it is going away, do you have it? heroine? not the pure one, that mix that gets hard to put into the syringe? that-fuck. that one."

i close my eyes for an instant. my fingers massage just in the back of his ears, i can feel him weighting a bit more into my body. he's still thinking i'll get him anything or whatever.

leaving rehab and going straight to injectables is fucked up.

"my bad, liv. i had a guy over" i didn't notice ryan getting in the room with some equipment in his hands and a worried look in his face.

he hated when we chris came around and hated being around him, this is always i bright example of what our childhood became. but he cares and would never deny help.

"it's fine- can we just... just try? he had them heroine injections, the mixed one."

ryan signs heavily, mad. i don't take that heavy shit but if i did, he'd react just like this.

"is he off conscience? i need your help."

"he's going on and off, i guess. hey, chris? let's rest a little bit, fine?"

he says something too low for me to understand, but does not let go of my waist and ryan is not good on patience. that's what he means with the help thing.

so i do my best to manage to be sat on the bed, chris' body falls into mine and I hate to say it. there's a wave of panic approaching.

"you chose to put him inside, liv. deal with it, ok? he'll be fine." my brother warns. he's not good on advices and shit, he's just real.

and that's just what i need sometimes.

"can you promise?" i whimper, not even noticing i had started crying while helping him flip chris a little better. i'm still sort of under him, and if i'm being honest, i don't want to leave.

he rests on his side and on my torso, my bed is a mess now and I hold his head so he won't fall, he'd be here just like a baby if it wasn't the damn heroine and whatever the fuck else he has in his veins now.

"stop crying, olivia. i'm not functioning if you panic. you know that" ryan snaps his tongue, holding chris' arm straight for a second before signing me to do it.

i silence myself, then. still trying my best. letting my fingers caress the cold skin in chris' face, fixing the hair sometimes and watching his tense expression up close. i am trying not to lose it, i really am.

god, how did we get down here. we were two little kids playing in kindergarten, and out of nothing, that's life, that's our life. chris is off conscience in my bed after staying in my porch for hours begging for heroine. life couldn't be more unfair.

"just be careful so he won't take this off or move too much, right?" ryan demands, grabbing the stuff he just used as i didn't even notice.

we used to do that a lot. dad was an old ass drug dealer with a blank addiction to whatever felt like dying so it'd be days of me holding his unconscious body while ryan prepared the needles and everything.

"i'll call justin or whatever, he ain't spending the night"

i won't contest, i actually agree and let him leave, staring at the wall while my fingers trace lines through chris' cheeks. i hate this, i hate feeling like there's no going back.

like the hours go by and they don't change a thing, nothing gets better. when chris moves a bit, i hold him a little tighter.

"hey." i whisper, my lips pressing against his face very softly as he seems to come back to reality.

missing us is just a regular feeling at this point. i'm close enough for these minutes before any of his brothers show up.

"sorry, okay?"

the rasp on his voice and the lack of rush, the way he just turn his body to the side and take a deep breath. no curiosity for the medicine, no glance up.

"i am too" i let my fingers play around his hair, brushing it all away from his face, then back to the sides and behind his ears. "i am so sorry, chris."

"don't be." his voice is as low as before. "i'll be ok. i'm here, hmm? guess that's the drug i need"

"great, that's a drug you can actually have" i thug him a little tighter, just until i can hear a little giggle. "i ain't leaving, ok? not again"

"me neither." murmurs. "i like it better here"

[journeyman-tier-fibercraft]

Been busy enough to justify a full round up for this WIP Wednesday. The TL;DR being that I'm back to being fully lace brained.

Blanket 10 is NEARLY finished. I've started attaching the last row and just need to finish out this row and then do a border (and give him a good wash, I've owned some of this yarn for years and it smells a little dusty). The nights are starting to get really cold here so I'll be happy to have it done, I just gotta force myself to work on it.

Doily 14 (Yarn | Pattern) needs to go on a longer needle but other than that is very fun and cute. I've decided to put it down for a bit to work on the next two projects but I expect when they get boring I'll go back to this. This pattern is surprisingly simple for a Neibling as long as you're prepared for the long pattern rows. Absolutely going to have to break out the washi tape to mark off my rows for the second chart, but the first one has been very easy lace knitting.

Unnamed project aka me fucking around to see if I can freehand this sweater design. I had started with a two row lace ("Honeycomb lace" from A Second Treasury of Knitting Patterns by Barbara G Walker) but honestly didn't find it fun to knit. So I transitioned to a favourite of mine (ssk, k2tog, yo twice). It's going a lot faster now tho it looks a little weird. I'm going to knit to the underarm and if it fits, it stays. If it's too small I'll rip all the way back and redo the shaping in this lace pattern instead with longer shoulder saddles. It's unfortunate that I didn't like knitting the honeycomb lace, I really like how it looks, I'll have to try swatching it in different yarns to see if the problem is just that this yarn has zero stretch (100% cotton).

I have decided I will put short sleeves on this tho. I had planned to just add ribbing for the arms but I saw a drop shoulder vest in a similar style and did Not like it, so this just saves me from having to rip back. I also think I'm going to have to leave this cropped, I'm not a big crop top person but with this yarn being cotton, having a full length body along with the sleeves is going to have the neckline very stretched. There may be no helping it regardless but there's no harm in trying. I imagine if this is does become something I wear it'll either be in the dead of summer or layered over a button up/some sort of top anyway, so a crop wouldn't be too uncomfortable.

Last but certainly not least is Shawl 14 (Pattern | Yarn). My precious Evenstar is coming along very well, I'm actually on the second to last pattern row before the set up for the border. I know the border is going to be a slog but I'm excited for it regardless, he's huge even all compressed on the needles. My self imposed deadline for him is April, but the border is only 56 repeats. If I can do one every other day I should be right on time, which sounds do-able even tho I know I'll get bored by the halfway point.

I need to keep an eye out for patterns for this yarn, I have a whole second cone plus what'll be left after I finish this shawl. These cones staring at me will probably be the push I need to settle on an Orenburg shawl pattern. (Or possibly a large Neibling, or one of MMario's patterns.)

[lets-try-some-writing]

You asked for responses to your TFOne review so here it is. I’m autistic so forgive if things come off rude, I’m doing my best. Anywho.

Your bias shows incredibly clearly. To the point things you hate I love and it just makes it clear to me they’re down sides in your review simply because of your own opinions. It’s especially notable to me because while you sympathized and enjoyed D-16 and felt Orion was passive, I felt the opposite. I found myself having the least empathy for Megatron I’ve ever felt and feeling a new understanding for Optimus I didn’t have before. So aside from your takes on those two, I do agree with a lot of your points. The side characters aka B and Elita don’t make sense or need to be there like they were. The pacing was off and the story made a lot of concessions simply so things would go the way they wanted. They brute forced plot points into happening that don’t make sense. But in a vacuum I think it all works well. They draw on a lot of different influences and working together with those it’s their end goal becomes incredibly clear. Which for me works a lot! I enjoyed the film having such an obvious vision. There are many things I didn’t like about the film and even left the theater the first time unsatisfied with it. But after having seen it 4 times now, I’ve grown a lot happier with it. I think it’s something that needs getting used to. Which of course having to see a film several times to really “get it” is not great but well I like it now so my bad. I agree the elite guards existence is a bit dumb and contrived but I think I get their reason for being a bit more. In the end I’m not sure why I’m saying all this but to point out that your own personal bias has greatly affected what is otherwise a wonderfully put together review. Now you said as much so normally I wouldn’t point that out but I actually study film and journalism while trying to professionally review movies. I do that and while I’m not sure that’s what you were going for you certainly achieved it. Aside from the minor grievances I mentioned. So just if you were, I’d keep that in mind for the future. I hope you don’t come out of this ask thinking I disliked your review at all, really it’s stellar work and I respect it a lot. But it seems we really disagree on this film huh? Tis the beauty of art I guess. If you actually read this all, thanks!

I appreciate how honest you are with your assessment of my work! Thank you for giving your thoughts!

Personally, I wasn't aiming to write a bias free review because A) that sounds boring as crap. And B) I feel like half the fun of reading or watching a review is getting to see a bit of soul to the commentator. I take a lot of Inspiration from Schaffrillas Productions, The Critical Drinker, Cinemasins, Nerdrotic, and Pastra. And this is largely because I like having actual analysis mixed in with some personality when it comes to a film, especially fictional media. There is an arguable truth when it comes to historical media and film, but fictional stuff is designed to have opinions and differing views that vary from fan to fan. Hence, my review being chalk full of my personal takes.

I have my opinions and I am not shy about them lol. I prefer D-16, you prefer Orion Pax. Some people will die on the hill of Elita superiority, meanwhile I would prefer to throw her off the nearest cliff. Some folks think Sentinel is mid, and I think he's stunning. It's all cool. Honestly, I think one of the good things about TF One is that it gives enough leeway when it comes to our main duo for fans to love one or both of them. There's room to think and develop an opinion. It's so much fun seeing others and their ideas, even if I don't agree.

Again, thank you for sharing your thoughts! It was fascinating to read your opinion on my opinions. I adore this kind of discourse. Good luck with journalism! I know I personally lost my marbles trying to learn to do it in a professional manner.