#fitness matters in india

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I shared with this lady today that my fitness is non-negotiable and is a reflection of the strength of my spirit. I’m not on and off with working out nor do I work out to get ready for bikini season. I have worked out pretty much consistently for the last 20 years. That's because exercising my body is akin to breathing. It is one way I clear out the gunk from my mind and emotions which is liberation for my mental, emotional and spiritual health. It doesn't matter what happened the day before, I know that exercise, whether gym time, HIIT classes, pole dance, belly dance, aerial dance, pilates, running up hills, long walks in the city, climbing stadium stairs, or hot yoga fuels the life force pulsing and protruding through my body that makes me feel delicious in the best ways possible no matter what challenges I'm facing. Working out for me is not-optional. My ancestral mothers know that I am not meant to walk this earth disconnected from my body and feeling sluggish and incapable. Sculpting a strong back, a strong ass, strong legs, strong arms, strong feet, etc. are some of the most important parts of my spiritual practice. Said differently: Your body is truly the altar. Bless it with some offerings of fitness if movement is accessible for you. Allow these words to be your reminder to get up and get out. -India Ame'ye, Author

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Okay, I lied. One last post before I take that much needed mental health break.

A post that I always swore - back before you could turn off reblogs and mute comments and basically make the lives of would be trolls very pointless, because you will never see what they say - I would never be stupid enough to make.

I leave you with my essay on…

Why Sparkly Vampires Make Perfect Sense, Stephanie Meyer Just Went About It All Wrong

Let's face it, humans don't always know what we're looking at. As an example, I was reading a book about poison use in royal courts. In the section on cures, in the subsection on unicorn horn (alicorn, for the technical term), it mentioned how the people who procured this rare substance were somewhat baffled by the fact that at the end of their lives the unicorn (which lived in such places as Africa, Persia, India, etc.) would migrate to the far north to die on the beaches of the arctic sea. Now, in their defense, it's very unlikely that any of these individuals would be well traveled enough to have even the opportunity to see both a live unicorn and a dead one. If they had, they might have had an easier time realizing 'these are two different animals!'. But the point still stands.

Humans don't always know what we're looking at.

Now, if you go through folk lore and mythology, you will, of course, find horrible blood sucking fiends that drain innocents of their life. Vampires. You will also find lots of entities which emit an ethereal luminescence or radiant glow, entities which possess powers beyond mortal understanding, who can be benign or terrible, and who are known to abscond with humans, although we're certain these humans are safe and happy on Olympus or under the green hill, not dead like they'd be with those blood suckers.

No one who had not seen both Apollo, God of the Sun, and the horrible vampire who chowed down on the neighbor two doors down would realize: they're the same entity.

To make it even harder for the poor mortals (and easier for the vampires!), vampires look different in different lighting conditions. After all, something that sparkles in the sunlight will also sparkle in the moonlight, the firelight, etc., it's just a matter of degrees. So some vampires would hang out in moonlit glens, for that 'fairy of the moonlight' feel, while others would set themselves up in temples with a many fires as they could manage. I mean, if you're going to call yourself Apollo, God of the Sun, you had better be all sparkle all of the time! Top all of this off with mind reading ability that lets traveling vampires fit into the local not-vampire-vampire mythos and yeah, the humans don't stand a chance.

It's great! Things are wonderful! Even if someone does see you devour a hapless victim and run screaming 'vampire' in the town, you can always just eat them next. No big deal. Only the stupid and careless are in real danger.

And then…

CALAMITY!

The head of the Roman Empire, that militant mass of well armed testosterone (and a bunch of less important people), converts to Christianity and proclaims there's only one god who is…not you.

Well shit.

Of course, if you're a lesser known vampire you can pass yourself off as an "Angel of the Lord" in a quick pinch, as long as you're talking to a peasant who's too illiterate to realize you're lacking in the eye and wing department (good news - this is most everyone), but you can't do that too often. And if everyone knows you as Apollo, God of the Sun?

Sucks to be you. You now have a bunch of very militant fundamentalists armed with sharp, pointy implements of destruction chasing after you with cries of 'demon' and 'false god'. Even with your supernatural speed, getting away from them is made far more difficult by the fact they can see you glittering from the other side of the market.

This is where vampires went nocturnal, since moonlight is less sparkle inducing than the sun. Then, since even that gets risky, they slowly moved into caves and cemeteries and the occasional creepy old castle that no sane person would enter without an explicit invitation to dinner, or for a real estate job. Something like that.

The next millennium was pretty dire. The millennium after that was…okay, also pretty dire, until suddenly, at the end of the twentieth century, a miracle! A remarkable shift brought about a change that would once again free vampires from their castles and cemeteries and allow them to walk safely among humans!

But they wouldn't go creeping off to the sun starved, water logged boonies of the Olympic rain forest. Oh hell no! They would go to the cities, to Soho, to Broadway, to places where they could strut proudly down the street to the envious stares of mortals and cries of "Damn, I wish I looked that good in body glitter!"

[iaure]

𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭

𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 1: 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2: 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴

CW: delusion, attempted kissing, chase sequence, snitchery, thoughts of reader being a mother, vivid fears of dying, reader is temporarily locked away, reader gets hurt, SpanishDict translated Spanish.

This part switches between Miguel's POV and the Reader's. ♱ stands for the translation being at the bottom of the post. please let me know immediately if there are any errors!

Severe spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ we making it out of nueva york with this one !!!! maybe. there's a poll at the end to determine fundamental plot! please vote after you read and share your thoughts!! i had the she's homeless x spider-man india mashup on loop and reached a higher place of ascension.

wc: 3.8k

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

Miles Morales had escaped, run amok to another world. Jess and Ben were trying to hunt him down, but with no back history on the Go Home Machine, they were stuck playing the waiting game. Margo was working on it, but Miguel had a hunch that her heart wasn't in on it. Traitors, everywhere. And the most painful traitor of all refused to meet his eye. Miguel sat on a chair in front the containment bubble, elbows on his knees with his hands laced together. Y/N had been sealed away, red filament twisting around her like a hamster ball, or a puffed up cocoon. The grapefruit glow bounced off her skin, casting an ominous light over the blooming bruises around her midsection, where her suit had torn from the glass, where Miguel had hurt her. He hated self-confliction. Y/N had betrayed him, the Spider-Society, the multiverse-willingly aided Miles in his escape. She probably was the reason he got away. Y/N had made the conscious choice to forsake the canon. She had known Miles for all of an hour, at most. Y/N threw away everything to help a teenager that (to Miguel, at least) had no idea the damage he was causing. She completely the deserved the situation she was in. It didn't matter what the reasoning was. And now she sat, curled up in a fetal position on the floor, trapped inside a containment bubble, her back to him. Y/N didn't meet his eye, but he knew it wasn't an act of shame or cowardice. It was the idea that he wasn't worthy of it; the idea that he didn't deserve to see her eyes. That she wouldn't even grace him with the idea that she was looking at him. She was being punished like a toddler with time out. Y/N had made a mistake.

But Miguel loved her.

He couldn't dance around the word anymore. There was a monster clutching his beating heart, and it haunted his immortal soul. It was love, as twisted and convoluted as it was. Love for a woman that had her back to him, pointedly refusing to speak. Miguel had seen her anger before. Being on the receiving end felt like a nightmare. Just silence, as thought the two of them were preschoolers and the silent treatment was the most lethal weapon in the schoolyard. He expected her vitriol to be loud, the kind that breeds screaming matches-not this.

"Y/N." Miguel was met with (shocker!) more silence. "Where did Miles go? This is important." Silence. "Why would you do this. You've potentially damned the multiverse." Y/N shuffled a bit, if only to wiggly further away. "You've helped disrupt the canon." Miguel sighs. "You're an adult. You should know better. Miles was a stupid kid-" "That you body-slammed into a train." Y/N finally spoke, biting like a viper and tilting her head a bit to look at Miguel out of the corner of her eye. "A 15-year-old that you saw fit to chase on all fours. His reaction was reasonable." Miguel's conflict swelled. Y/N was talking in that dulcet angel tone, so succulent despite her anger. But her insistence was irritating. She absolutely should've understood, better than any of the teenagers, her little acolytes. Miles was new. It was true that his reaction was...understandable, to a degree. Hobie always broke the rules anyway. Gwen was going through a rough time, and Pav was there to have a good time. But Y/N's brother died because of an anomaly. She of all people should know the threat they pose.

"We tried explaining it to him. It was his choice that he didn't listen. You, on the other hand, you knew the consequences." "I'd rather be a proper hero and fight for what's right, to help those that need help. That's a concept that's hard for you to understand, right?" "Oh, so trying to protect the multiverse is wrong. Okay, okay. Esto es ridículo.♱" Miguel rose from the chair, muttering under his breath and turning with his hands on his hips. His head was reeling. He knew Y/N was stubborn, but this was absurd. "I'm holding every Spider, every world, together!" "Says the guy who didn't even get bit!" Y/N counters, quick as lightning. "If your canon events are so true, then how is Nueva York standing? You answer me that!" "Canon events can differ-" "By so much that there's not even a spider? Get real, Miguel! The kid isn't doing the-the-the-!" Y/N tripped over her words, rising from her curl on the ground and talking with her hands, trying to get her thoughts in one row. "The devastation that you think he is! Canon isn't infallible!" Miguel whipped around, realising he'd come face to face with Y/N. She was panting like a dog, a scowl buried under a grimace buried under a glare. Her eyes were steely, finally meeting Miguel's eyes like rocks crashing with the sea. It was a clash of wills.

And Miguel hated how much he loved it.

What a woman, honestly. If she was this passionate about protecting a teenager she'd just met, what would she be like with her own kids? Miguel was sure that Y/N would be wonderful, always coming to the kid's defense, without question. That venomous tongue would be soft-spoken to a child, one that would have Y/N's eyes and Miguel's hair. Maybe a little girl, a Gabriella that would truly be Miguel's own. No switching places with the dead. No feigning love for a woman he didn't know. No technicolour nightmares. His own little girl, from his own wife. And god! Y/N as a wife! She'd be so sweet, waking Miguel up in the mornings with light kisses, whispering sweet nothings to him, letting his hands water as his slips out of groggy dreams. The rising sun on her skin would light her up like a holy statue, and the moment Miguel was conscious he'd be happy (honoured) to worship. From the second he woke up, to the second he fell asleep, he'd be worshipping, down to his dreams being dictated by Y/N. Holidays, weekends, family trips, saving the multiverse together...it would be-

"What, you going brain dead? Are you even listening?"

Y/N's biting words dragged Miguel back to reality, as hateful as the idea of reality was. His daydreams were so much kinder than this. She was still upset, still trapped behind that red barrier, and they were still enemies. But after the vision of what they could have, it was like a tease to just keep playing cat and mouse. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to torture himself like that. It'd take convincing. A lot of it. But Y/N wasn't unreasonable. She was noble at heart and maybe a bit naïve. But she was a Spider at the end of the day, always looking for the best solution to terrible problems. And that's where it's important. That's okay. Relationships were about compromise, after all. "Y/N." Miguel spoke softly. He really couldn't hide his affections for much longer. It was spilling out of him like a cup, pouring through the cracks and spilling over the sides. And he saw how Y/N shifted. He could tell that she was figuring it out. She could see how he moved. And she slowly backed to the other side of the containment bubble, moving further away until her back was against the wall. Did it break his heart? A little bit, but this was going to take time. All things would.

"Y/N," He repeated. "We...really shouldn't fight. We're-we're special, you and I." Miguel got close to the containment bubble, watching Y/N.

He didn't realise it, but sometime in the last fifteen minutes, the bubble's purpose had changed. It started out as capturing a prisoner, a traitor, someone who was dangerous and could be a threat to society as a whole. But it changed to a shield, protecting a prey animal from a predator. It was Y/N's last safeguard from Miguel doing anything unwise. The dynamic shifted. Y/N could tell it-every hair was on end, every sense was on fire. But Miguel was oblivious. "I'm gonna shut this off," He tapped on the filament, and Y/N swallowed. "Promise me you won't go running off. We can have an adult conversation. We can talk." And maybe Y/N should've protested. She could've asked to keep it on, but who'd admit they were scared in a situation like this? So she stayed silent. She kept in her corner, and irritation reared it's ugly head again. Miguel was trying to be cordial. Why wouldn't she just promise? He was offering her freedom.

(Somewhat. Details didn't matter, not here, not now.)

It's not like he was going to hurt her. It's two measly words. Two words in exchange for a lifetime and some of love, affection, devotion. Was that really too hard of a deal?

"Promise." Miguel growled.

Instantly, Y/N put her hands up in mock surrender. "Promise! I promise." Miguel's heart bloomed. She could be so charming when she wanted to be. So disciplined and playful, a good wife, a good lover. Listening was the first step, and she was listening. Miguel could only grin. "Okay." He put his hands to the barrier as his heart raced. He was so close. A step or two more, and he would have the love of his life in his arms. And Y/N was staying still. There was no tension that he could see. She didn't look like she was about to run. She was just nervous. The red barrier folded out of itself, and quiet suddenly, it was just Miguel and Y/N in a room. When was the last time they'd done this? Miguel couldn't remember the last time it was just them. It was always either in fleeting moments or with other Spiders around. It was impossible to get Y/N alone, no matter how hard he tried. But here she was, just him and her and them and an empty room where no one was going to stop them. She didn't move, watching him like he were a predator in the savannah. Miguel didn't like to say that he was excited, per se. But there wasn't really another word for it.

His eyes scanned over Y/N's pretty face, every inch memorised in Miguel's mind. Her sharp eyes. Her cute nose. Her pretty lips. Her pretty lips. What would they taste like? Did she use lip gloss? What would that taste like? How would it feel to have her lips linger on his? These were dire questions, and Miguel was done waiting. He walked up to Y/N, slow and purposeful. He had to seem as non-threatening as possible to pull this off. And quick, because chances were Y/N was going to do something harsh, like slap him. But it was a small price to pay. After all, he had his whole life with Y/N ahead of him. He just needed to get it started.

Y/N was by no means a stupid woman.

She grew up with the same precautions every other girl did. Don't talk to strangers, they don't have candy in their van, and know when men are about to jump your bones. And in this case, she could practically smell Miguel's thoughts, like the gears in his brain were making smoke from how hard they were churning. She trusted him as far as she could throw him, if she tried throwing him when she was 12 and before she got bitten. That is to say, she didn't trust Miguel at all. He was a stupid, stupid man, and she needed to bolt. So, that's exactly what she did. Promises, schromises. Y/N could say whatever it took for Miguel to let her go, but at the end of the day, she had a responsibility to herself. For all his talk about having an adult conversation, she knew what the look in his eyes was. And when he began reaching for her cheek, Y/N knew it was now or never. Miguel's body weight was enough that she could web him up and hurl him into the nearby wall. It was like watching a cannonball get launched a Mach speed, and his surprised yelp was far more satisfying than it should've been. But he'd done this to himself, and as Y/N booked it down the hallway, she knew she was on a divine clock. Either luck or skill was going to get her out alive, and luck was unreliable at best. She had her hands, her webs, and her brain. That was going to have to make do.

A vast majority of the Spider-People were out, either in their own worlds or helping hunt down Miles. Poor Miles. He just wanted to save his dad. Y/N did her best, did the most she could, but right now? Right now, she had to focus on getting out alive, preferably with her pride intact. And as she heard Miguel's thundering footsteps behind her, an anguished yell, she found it in herself to go impossibly faster. Maybe if she was an outside observer, it would've been funny-a woman booking it past someone standing, only to be followed by a massive, 6'9 blue and red bullet on all fours. Wow. Miguel really did like just running like a dog. Y/N dove down into the lobby of the Spider-Society, ducking and weaving under bridges and platforms. Miguel leapt like an animal, clawing his way onto a platform above and dropping down.

"Stop running!" He barked, getting up to two legs again and reaching out. Y/N could feel his claws miss by a hair, and she leapt off the edge, swinging around and swerving to a platform above, stumbling into the containment room. Rows and rows and rows of sunset orange, anomalies staring at her with wide-confused eyes. None of them were the ones she'd caught, and as she heard Miguel claw up the side of the wall, she knew running wouldn't work forever. She had to do what Miles did-hide, outlast, outplay. These kids were getting too damn smart. Y/N dove behind the anomalous Rhino, praying that it wouldn't elect to shuffle over. It was the biggest thing in the room, the most stationary-and now Y/N realised she was putting far too much stock in luck. If Miguel found her, she genuinely didn't know what he would do. Would he cage her again? Hurt her? Kill her? It all seemed to be a possibility, all at once.

Now, all she could was hope the anomalies didn't sell her out.

In all honesty, she wouldn't blame them. The Spiders didn't have the most ethical treatment of anomalies. She wasn't even sure if they got fed, or what. But maybe a shared hatred for one particular Spider-Man would get it across. Y/N shared a look with a Doc Ock, and he stared at her. She grit her teeth, praying that somehow, the silent prayer would get across. A twitch throbbed in her neck from sheer tension, before the Doc Ock gave a barely noticeable nod. He looked away. It's a cold day in hell when the villains understood Y/N better than the 'good guys' did. Miguel burst into the room, claws tearing up the metal floor. Y/N could see a handful of the anomalies jump, all eyes on him. She had her back to him, and part of her hated how she'd put herself in such a compromising position. Short of her spider-senses, she wouldn't have a clue if she needed to run, and right now, she was having a Spider-Woman check engine light with how much the sense was going off already. It was rendered useless, because thank you very much, she was aware she was in danger.

"Vamos. Prometo que seré gentil.♱" Miguel cooed, heavy steps reverberating throughout the room. Maybe he was muttering to himself, or he genuinely was trying to speak to Y/N, but she knew better than to just leap out and go 'I'm here! Come and get me!'. Spider-Man was funny, but he wasn't stupid. And the same went for his 7290 variant. The anomalies all went silent, and Y/N felt her mouth go dry. It'd been so long since she'd last felt this genuinely terrified. Last time, she was 14, sobbing in an alleyway as she watched her uncle die. This time, she was being hunted by an obsessed, genetically infused daddy longlegs. This was absolutely, totally, completely fine.

"Mi corazón es tuyo. ¿Qué más se puede pedir?♱" Miguel kept muttering to himself, low and quiet and enough that if Y/N didn't have superior hearing, she wouldn't have picked it up. "I need you, I need you, I need you...you need me."

Mm. Y/N wrinkled her nose at that. That just sounded stupid.

Y/N kept her breathing controlled, trying to tame the soreness in her lungs and the shuddering breaths. Bile pooled in her throat as she heard Miguel slowly walk past the rhino, a shake in her hands that she hated acknowledging. But Miguel was terrifying. He was the ultimate predator, trying to hunt Y/N down like prey. She was prey, for the first time in years. She figured that maybe, if they'd done a better job of convincing Miles, then it would make sense. But if this was what the boy was seeing, feeling, then no wonder. She would've jumped off the bullet highway, too. Abruptly, there was a sudden crash, and Y/N's head whipped around to see that Miguel had thrown one of the containment contraptions, hurling it to the wall opposite to her. She practically jumped out of her skin, the bile leaping to her tongue in a bitter, acidic taste. Miguel swore hard in Spanish, howling like an injured dog, damaging more equipment and clawing up anything that wasn't an anomaly. With every hit, every swipe, Y/N flinched, because holy shit that could be her. He could pop her head off with a single slightly hard hit, and it'd be over.

He stalked out of the room, leaping down to the Go Home Machine below. Y/N's sigh of relief felt like it was shared with the whole room, all the anomalies relaxing at once. It's like a thread had been pulled out of a fabric, letting it finally fall the way it was meant to. One anomaly, a fucked up Green Goblin, did a dramatic flop to the floor. Y/N shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. At this point, she'd just abandon ship-leap out the nearest window and web her way out of the city before Miguel could deactivate her watch. And even if he did, then she'd hide out. Nueva York was insane, a metal jungle. She could spend the rest of her life hiding out there, if she had to.

"Beep beep."

Y/N's eyes flew open, looking to her left. Her gut plummeted. Miguel's golden boy, his favourite, one of their best, stood next to her, exactly 4 centimetres high. LEGO Spider-Man, with his teeny little watch. Before, Y/N thought he was cute, like a dog or something. But as his watch flickered to life and the visage of Miguel appeared, she regretted every single instance of her almost stepping on him. "H-Hey, wait-!" She whispered, harsh. "Don't-!" "Miguel, I got eyes on Y/N!" LEGO Spider-Man moved in a way that only a LEGO minifigure could, his head rotating a little bit. The Miguel avatar slowly turned, locking eyes with Y/N, and her blood froze. "Thanks, Peter. You're one of our best for a reason." "Beep beep." LEGO Spider-Man shut off the watch, looking to Y/N. "Sorry. Nothing personal." There was silence for a second.

"Peter." Y/N said. "You fucking suck."

She picked up the LEGO and proceeded to chuck him as far as she possibly could, launching him into the lobby and watching him fall. Some of the anomalies groaned, and already Y/N could hear Miguel barreling his way back to the room. Why the hell could she not catch a break? She only had a handful of options, most of which weren't actually options she could do. There was turning herself in-a non-option. There was calling for help-another non-option. And then there was simply...jumping out the window. The same thing Miles did. Which...felt cliché. Would Miguel really fall for the same thing twice? Literally? Miguel ran into the room, sliding across the floor. There was a moment where he looked up to Y/N, eyes wide and wild. His grin was wide, panting hard with his fangs poking his bottom lip. A flush had bloomed on his face, his eyes blown out like he was on drugs. "There you are," He hissed.

Well. The window it was.

Y/N's sides still hurt from the last time she got tossed out a window. This time, she gave herself the courtesy of bracing herself with her arms, but the glass still hurt like hell. It cut into her arms as Miguel genuinely shrieked, running out after her. There was a moment where Y/N was just in a free-fall, taking a second to reflect on her situation. Did she wake up this morning expecting any of this? No. If she had, she would've texted her neighbour to keep an eye on her fish. But nooo. She just had to get herself mixed up in super-hero shenanigans. She crossed her arms, a petulant scowl on her face. Maybe she still could call to make sure her fish would be okay. Miguel hurtled out the window after her, a hand reaching out to catch the front of her suit. His claws were out, the extra inch and a half proving far more of a threat than Y/N liked. She spun down and webbed Miguel's foot, yanking him down and using him as velocity to shove herself up. He tried the same trick on her, but if there was one thing she had on the 'kilogram of steel vs kilogram of feathers' built Spider was that she was that much faster. She yanked her foot out of the way, webbing to the side of the Spider-Society and slamming into the glass of a floor she'd never even been on before. Miguel plummeted like a brick to the ground, webbing to a building that was that much lower. Y/N had a total of two minutes to decide what the hell she was going to do. So...what was she going to do?

♱ - This is ridiculous. - Come on out. I promise I'll be gentle. - My heart is yours. What more could you ask for?

╰･ 𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙤'𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖 ⨯・ ⨯・@ishqani ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @pix-stuff ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @localdepressedvampire ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @cantchoosejust1 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @tired-writer04 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @neteyamsbulletwound

[ofstoriesandstardust]

can't take the home out of oklahoma - iiii. (k.c.)

a/n: dear God the behemoth of the crossover fic is finally finished. please remember to be kind in my comments, but of course i'd love to hear what everyone thought :). if you're new here, you can check out the other three parts here

summary: Two years after leaving California, Tyler hears from Jake, asking him to come to his engagement party. With an offer of putting the whole crew up in a hotel for two nights and an off-season lull, Tyler accepts. Two years after leaving California, you finally have to confront Javy. 

warnings: background iceman and hangster, happy ending, alcohol, swearing, please remember we are all the villains in someone's story thank you

word count: 13.2k

“So, I was thinking-” 

“Dangerous thing.” Kate mutters around a bite of waffle, prompting a fit of giggling from the two of you as Tyler narrows his eyes. 

“-I was thinking, instead of heading out to Arkansas straight after the end of the season, we take a road trip.”

“Where you thinking T?” Boone asks as you pick up your coffee cup. 

“San Diego, California.” 

You freeze, eyes flickering over to the blonde over the rim of your coffee cup, thankful you hadn’t taken a sip of the hot liquid yet. 

“What the hell, Owens?” You ask tersely, setting the mug down harder than you intend to, the brown liquid sloshing over the side. 

Tyler is pointedly avoiding your look as he sighs, shoulders deflating. “Look, my brother called. He- He’s getting married.” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. “To Bradley?” 

He nods, confirming. “Anyways, they’re having an engagement party out at Brad’s godfather’s. Jake’s invited us, all of us. Offered to put us all up in a hotel for two nights. I was uh- thinking about going.” 

“I think I’ll sit this out.” You say quietly, pushing your chair out. 

“Yeah, I ain’t so sure it’s the best idea to throw her into all of that.” Dani says, Lilly nodding alongside her. 

The girls had been told the story of your fiery departure from your hometown one night this past season, motel beds pushed together, wine drunk and cheap pizza forgotten. You’d told Dexter a week later, while you remarked on your ex-boyfriend’s love for a Louisiana crab boil, after you all had crossed into Louisiana to follow a storm. 

“Jake asked specifically about you.” Tyler admits quietly. 

You sigh, glancing up at the ceiling. “I don’t think the rest of them care to see me.” 

“We’ll make it work, okay? I ain’t gonna let anybody come at you.” Tyler pleads and you sigh again. 

You look at him for a moment but that’s all you need. It’s clear that Jake reaching out, asking him to come to this monumental event, means a great deal to him and you know as his family, it’s only right to step up to the plate for Tyler, no matter how uncomfortable it might make you. 

You know Tyler would do the same for you in a heartbeat. 

“Okay, T.  I’ll go with you guys.” 

His grin is splitting as Boone whoops, already chattering about the beach. 

“I ain’t promising to be nice to them.” 

Your words don’t even phase Tyler.

“Wouldn’t even dreaming of asking that of you, kid.”

-

The blue water sparkles as you peer out the window, the golden sunlight making it shine. 

“Jesus, I forget how blue it is.” You whisper to yourself as you take in downtown. 

The skyscrapers peer down back at you, the boats in the bay dotted across the docks. In the distance, you can see the outlines figures of the USS Midway and the Star of India. 

“How you feeling?” 

You shake your head, looking back at Kate. “It’s weird, kind of. Disorientating. I remember the first time I came home from college, it’s kind of like that. It all looks the same but the world kept turning after you left. Life kept going even though you’re not there to witness it.” 

She reaches out to squeeze your hand from the back of the truck. “I get what you mean.” 

Tyler glances at the two of you from his position in the drivers seat. The group had elected to take the van and your car, the SUV you’d bought last winter after you’d gotten sick of sharing Kate’s own storm chasing truck. 

Tyler’s red truck and Kate’s pickup had just not suited themselves to a cross country road-trip, which led you and Kate to driving most of the way. Tyler had finally corralled you into giving him the keys, under the condition you would sit passenger seat and give him directions. 

“Hey T, can we stop and get food before this thing?” 

Boone’s voice crackles over the radio and Tyler grabs it. You hadn’t really needed a radio of your own, but Boone and Tyler had insisted, outfitted the whole thing themselves. It sort of made you feel like a kid again, shouting across the room with your siblings in lieu of having walkie talkies while you played — everything followed with an OVER.

“I think they’re gonna feed us there Booney.” 

“Tyler, I am a starved woman. You rushed us out of breakfast this morning and we’ve been up before the sun was. It’s almost three in the afternoon and California already said we’ve got a decent drive across the city to get to this place. We’re stopping.” Dani’s voices comes through and Kate lets out a laugh from her seat. 

“Know any good places California?” 

You light up at Boone’s question, reaching for the radio but Tyler holds it just out of reach. 

“If you suggest In-N-Out one more time, I will drive this car into the ocean, so help me God.”

-

Niall Horan’s voice floats softly through the speakers as the car creaks to a stop in front of a familiar house. 

Your stomach flips as the barbecue from a locally owned joint near your Mom’s threatens to resurface. You distantly recall telling the group you’d been friends with the owners daughter in high school in a sad attempt to drown out Boone’s loud voice saying it would never be as good as Cathy’s. 

“You good California?” Javi asks and you startle, not even having realized you’d pulled yourself from the car. “You’re looking a little queasy there.” 

“Nerves.” You breathe and Kate takes your hand, squeezing it. 

“Thought you said they were nice.” Lilly says. 

“They are.” Just not to me. 

“This is quite the affair.” Dexter comments, glancing around the street as you walk up the road. “There’s hardly any spaces left.” 

“Bradley’s family is big.” You blurt out. “Lots of retired pilots who are probably thrilled to see their Baby Goose get married. Lots of friends from the service too I’m guessing.” 

“I wouldn’t want to be footing the bill for that wedding.” Dani whistles. 

The group begins to chatter and you wince, feeling your stomach roll as you step onto the grass. 

“You got this.” Kate whispers as you follow Tyler to the front porch. Tyler reaches out to press the doorbell, only to pull back at the last second. 

You raise your eyebrows. You don’t think you’ve seen the Tyler Owens cower back down from anything, much less a doorbell separating him from his twin. 

“You do it.” He says to you, stepping back.

“Me do it?” You ask incredulously. “You want to be kicked out before we ever step foot inside?” 

“I’ll do it.” Kate volunteers. She rings the doorbell, a short buzz followed by the sound of an I got it Mom! from somewhere inside behind the closed door. 

The door opens a few minutes later, revealing the now-taller daughter of Penny Benjamin. She blinks at the rag-tag crew. “Can I help you?” 

“Hi. I’m Kate and this is Tyler, we’re here for-“ Kate cuts herself off under the rather impressive stare of Amelia. Kate tugs on your arm, pulling you into view. “Here, you talk to the scary teenager.” 

“Hi Amelia.” You say softly. 

Amelia’s face lights up at the sight of you, exclaiming your name, drawing the attention of Tom as he rounds the corner to see who was at the door. Tom appears over her shoulder, nudging the girl back inside the house. 

“Tell Jake his brother’s here!” Tom calls after her before turning his attention back to your crew. “You must be Tyler and his crew. Jake mentioned that you guys would be stopping by. They’re all out in the back playing dogfight football.” 

Dogfight football? Tyler mouths to you as you all step inside the foyer. You shrug at his confused look. 

Long story you mouth back. 

“Anyways, I’m Tom, I’m one of Brad’s godfathers. I can take you all out to the back to meet the group?” 

You let your friends filter in front of you, hanging by the entrance to the kitchen and living room area. 

-

“I’m just gonna…” You mutter, letting your friends file out the glass door after Amelia and Tom. Penny gives you an unimpressed look from where she catches sight of you at the kitchen island and you give a sheepish shrug, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Selfish self-perseveration, sue me.” 

Pete glances up at you from one of the cabinets at the sound of your voice, lighting up as he does. “Well kid, I do have to say we never expected to see you again.” He holds out his arms and you grin, taking the invitation for a hug. 

If there was anything you’d learned about Pete Mitchell in the two and a half years you’d spent around his pilots, was that he offered Dad hugs to anyone at any chance he got. And boy, were they some of the safest hugs you’d ever had. 

“Hi Pete.” You say into his shoulder as he squeezes you. 

He pulls back, studying you. His thumb ghosts over a new scar on your cheek (thanks to an ill-timed rocket from Boone) and taking in the new piercings. “You look good kid.” 

“Thanks.” You breathe, unable to stop the genuine smile at earning his approval. 

His hand rests on your shoulder, guiding you farther into the kitchen. “Nick and Carole are outside with Coyote’s Dad and brother getting all the fixings grilled up. Do you want anything to drink?” 

You pause, stopping next to Javy’s Mom Lydia. You swallow, unsure of how she’ll react to you as you tell Pete you don’t want anything. He nods, grabbing his glass and nudging Penny towards the back patio after her daughter. 

“Hi Lydia.” You say softly. She studies you for a moment before pulling you into a tight hug. You melt into her touch, knowing you had accepted you may never get it again. 

You think of all the times you’d gotten the same hug from her, the innate soft care and compassion the woman had offered you, the same one she’d passed down to her son. 

You pull back, smiling at Javy’s sister-in-law (it seems like James had finally put a ring on it) and the little boy she holds in her arms. “Hi Scarlet.” 

The girl gives you a big grin. “How you doing?” 

“I’m good.” You answer. “Yeah, I’ve been good.” 

She smiles. “Good to hear.” She glances over Lydia’s shoulder. “Would you want to hold baby Jameson here for a minute while Dia and I go grab something from outside?” 

Your eyes grow wide. “You want me to hold your baby?” 

She shrugs. “I trusted you enough back then, I doubt I can’t trust you now.” 

You swallow, nodding. “Yeah, yeah of course.” You take the boy gingerly from her arms as he grins up real big at you. The boy only has two teeth but it looks like the nub of a third is growing in. “You and James make really cute babies.”

“I know.” She says smugly, before heading outside with Lydia.

You bounce the baby in your arms gently, cooing at him softly. 

“I sort of feel like I’m watching some alternate version of my future right now.” You gasp, whipping towards the sound of the voice. 

Leaning up against the doorjamb is Javy. 

The same Javy you’d fallen in love with all those years ago, a fond and yet pained smile on his face as he sticks his hands in his pockets. 

“Self preservation doesn’t work if you’re not outside with all your friends.” You breathe out as Jameson starts making grabby hands for his uncle. Javy walks towards the boy, letting him take his finger. It quickly becomes his new favorite chew toy as he shrugs. 

You snort as Javy smiles down at the kid. “Wanted to change. Scarlet knew I was in here so now I’m kinda figuring she left him here with you so we’d have to be civil.” You swallow, all humor leaving you as your eyes dart around the kitchen. 

In all the years you’d been gone, the Mitchell-Kazansky house hadn’t changed all that much. Maybe there were a few more pictures on the fridge, a coupon for a new pizza place, new throw pillows on the same worn couch, but the small beach front property that was inherently them had remained the same. 

“I don’t- I never expected- How are you here?” Javy asks, finally landing on words after a minute of silence and restarted attempts. 

“Jake’s brother.” You say quietly. “I’ve been working with Tyler in Oklahoma.” 

Javy reels back, Jameson letting go of his finger as he does. The toddler is quick to shift his attention to your hair, tugging on it. You wince. “Okay, I probably deserve this.” You mutter after a particularly hard yank from the toddler’s fist. 

Javy snorts, and you think it surprises him as much as it does you as a shy, goofy smile flickers on his face. “In another life, you were probably his auntie.” 

The words are meant to be light-hearted but they’re like an iron punch as the breath gets knocked clean from your lungs. 

“Javy-“ 

“Sorry, that wasn’t funny.” He dismisses as he crosses his arms. “So- Oklahoma huh? You liking it? The countryside is the last place I expected you to end up but you, uh- you look like you’re doing well.” 

You swallow around the lump that’s growing in your throat at the grief you’re having to confront earlier than you had anticipated. 

“I- Yeah, I like it out there. I’m good. Happy.” 

“I’m actually uh, not surprised to hear it. That you’re in Oklahoma. Just surprised at finally getting the confirmation.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, about a year ago, Fanboy had one of their streams on. He was just a casual fan, you know, background noise. The camera couldn’t have been on you for more than thirty seconds but I swore it was you. I made him go back and replay it a hundred times, I pulled up a hundred examples from other videos on the channel. The team was so convinced I was starting to lose it that Fanboy got banned from playing those streams anymore. Your hair was shorter in that first video, but I just- I knew it was you.” 

You hum, thinking to yourself. You’d appeared in the background of streams and edited videos countless times, but there had only been one haircut in two years. “It must’ve been after the rocket incident.” 

His eyes go wide. “The rocket incident?” 

“Boone still feels bad and Ty won’t let anyone really bring it up because it makes his blood pressure rise but imagine my surprise when I’m fiddling with something on top on the truck and Boone leans over on the console and accidentally sets off a rocket.” 

“That would only happen to you.” 

You snort. “I know. Most of the hair on one side was singed off anyways so I took the kitchen shears we have and chopped it all off in the back of the RV after we left urgent care.”

A beat passes as he drums his fingers against the countertop. “Hey, how long are you in town for?” 

“We’re supposed to leave sometime tomorrow, we’re gonna stop off in Vegas. Why?” 

“I was gonna see if you wanted to stop by the house. I’ve still got, actually quite a lot of your stuff. Like keepsakes and stuff your Mom tried to get rid of. If you wanted to swing by on your way out and pick through it.”

You nod. “Yeah, I should be able to fit that in.” You reach a hand out, nudging his shoulder. “Hey, how was Bob and Sophia’s wedding?” 

“The kind of classy country you can only imagine. It was so them.”

“Did you cry?” You tease and he ducks his head. 

“Maybe shed a tear or two.” 

“Hey, how’s your Mom?” You ask softly.

You remember all too well Javy getting that phone call. 

Four days before you were meant to defend your Masters thesis, Javy had gotten a call from his Mom, telling him that she had been diagnosed with DCIS — breast cancer. 

It had been non-invasive, thankfully, and after a quickly scheduled surgery, Lydia had expected to have a full recovery. 

Still — it had been a terrifying few weeks for Javy and you’d written out and deleted a hundred text messages to him on each anniversary of the diagnosis. 

“She’s good.” He says softly. “Still no signs of a return. Thanks for asking.” 

You nod. “I think about her a lot. And you, you know. How you all are doing. If she’s healthy, if you’re safe.” 

His eyes shine with a feeling you can’t quite name, but can describe only as a response to hearing words he never thought he’d hear but mean more to him then he’ll ever admit. 

“I think about you too. If you’re happy, if you’re happier than you were with me. If you found what it was you had been searching for.” He shakes his head, clearing your throat. “Grieving someone who was still alive-“ He lets out a low whistle. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. You know he hears you but he doesn’t say anything, letting the two of you exist in silence as baby Jameson babbles nonsensically.

“I can’t help but ask — you dating anyone?” 

The questions feels so stilted as you swallow. You knew he was trying to play at some cool nonchalance but he missed by a mile; it was obvious your answer meant a great deal to him. “I am.” He raises his eyebrows, clearly waiting for more information. “I have a girlfriend.” 

“What’s this girlfriend’s name?” 

You shake your head. “Don’t think it’s appropriate to bring her into this.” 

He sighs, letting his weight rest against the kitchen island. “I guess that’s fair. You were always more mature than me about stuff.”

The two of you sit in an awkward silence for a few minutes, the hollers of his friends from the back patio coming closer. You have a hundred questions for him and he probably has a thousand more for you but you both know you can’t ask them in this moment. His team must have come up off the beach and would probably be headed inside soon. His eyes flicker towards the back door, probably making the same assumptions as you. 

“Hey, do- do you think we could talk sometime tonight?” Your eyes flicker over to him, seeing the pain in them so clear. It feels unnatural to not reach out and smooth out the lines in between his eyebrows. “Now’s not the time but I- uh-“ He cuts himself off, shaking his head. 

You nod. “Yeah, we can. Just- later, okay?” 

You owed him closure. After the way you’d left, with the way you’d burned him, you owed him that at the very least.

Kate would understand. 

The backdoor slides open, the pilots shuffling in. Behind them, you can see the Wranglers, save for Kate and Tyler, take hesitant seats on the couches. It looks like Dexter’s still outside.

“Holy shit!” Omaha yells, sliding his sunglasses up. The pilots turn, a bunch of oohs being tossed up. 

“Does anybody else get the weird feeling we walked into some weird alternate timeline where her and Coyote got married and had kids?” Payback asks and Javy lets out a low groan. 

“Aliens.” Fanboy breathes out and his pilot tosses him a strange look. 

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Natasha comments. 

“Yeah, a really bitchy ghost.” Omaha adds and you turn sharply, plopping the toddler into his uncle’s arms. 

“Would you look at that, some things really do never change. I still really hate your friends.” 

“Can I have a hug?” Jake blurts out, silencing his friends. 

You raise an eyebrow as you give him a once-over. “Um, I guess. If you put a shirt on first.”

Mickey hits his pilot as Jake disappears around the corner. “My alien theory isn’t so weird now, is it?” 

Payback winces, rubbing his stomach where Mickey had smacked him. “Nice to see you too Mickey.” You say, rounding the kitchen island. 

The boy gives you a nervous smile. It’s an odd look on the boy who’d always greeted you with a wide grin, home-cooked food, and a picture of his new Lego set. It’s an odd look for the kid who’d probably been your favorite of Javy’s friends, and definitely the closest to you, so long as no one said that in front of Bradley. (Bradley Bradshaw had taken it upon himself to name his role in your life as unintentional big brother). “Hey.” 

Jake reappears, having tugged one of Bradley’s old Top Gun shirts over his head. “Hi.” He says softly, stopping in front of you. “Can I have a hug now?” 

You sigh. “Fine, I guess.” 

You’re not sure what you’re expecting from Jake (a hug certainly wasn’t on the table) but his hug is tight, borderline painful as you hesitantly and awkwardly wrap your arms around his much larger and taller frame. You step back as someone clears their throat. Jake lets you go willingly as Boone reaches out for your wrist, tugging you to sit down in between him and Dani. 

Jake turns, facing the person who’s just walked into the house. 

“Knock knock.” She says and your head turns, catching sight of Lainey’s blond hair. Javi reaches around Boone, nudging your back, reminding you to breathe as Jake’s face lights up. “Wait, there’s two of you?” 

“Lainey! Didn’t think you’d make it! Yeah, uh, this is my twin brother Tyler. We, uh don’t talk much.” 

“Oh, we know.” You say under your breath, only loud enough for your friends to hear, and Boone spits out a laugh, Javi having to cough into his fist to cover up his own laughter. 

Tyler snaps, eyes narrowing, turning to you. “I thought you’d agreed to being on your best behavior.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” You defend, which elicits a loud laugh from Dani as Lilly throws out a “Stop being so hard on her T!” 

Tyler huffs, his hands fall to his waist and you have to bite back a giggle that eventually falls out anyways when you see Kate doing the same thing.

“You’re such a Dad, T.” You say through a laugh, shaking your head which elicits laughter from the whole group. 

Lainey turns as you talk, face softening. “I didn’t think any of us would ever see you again. Where you’ve been?” 

“Oklahoma!” Javy shouts from across the kitchen. It sends his friends into an uproar, reeling from the fact. 

“See, my aliens theory is looking more and more true!” 

-

Kate doesn’t want to admit that her stomach drops at the sight of your ex quietly slipping out the door after you but she knows it’s warranted given the way all his friends notice. 

“What’re the odds she gives Javy another chance?” Jake’s fiancé asks Jake. Jake lets out some discontented noise from the back of his throat before pushing himself off his seat on the floor and meandering into the kitchen. 

“I will put money on her coming back. I’m so Team Javy, you know this.” One of the other pilots (Fanboy, her brain recalls). 

“I’m team her staying in Oklahoma with her girlfriend. She’s earned that quiet life.” One of the girlfriends (Kaycee, she’s dating Phoenix, you’d run through all the possible attendees with her and Tyler in the car this morning in the quiet calm, dawn barely peaking over the horizon) pipes up with. 

“Of course you’re on her side.” One of the others says. “You always liked her more than the rest of us.” 

Kaycee’s eyes slide up to the man. “Well yeah, Payback, I was the one consoling at her at every group event when Hangman came down on her and made her feel unwanted. So of fucking course I don’t want her to get back together with the guy

whose friends made her feel like shit.” 

“You take that too seriously, K. We were obviously just fooling around, not our fault she’s too sensitive.” 

The girl’s eyes narrow at the man. “Omaha, so help me-“ 

“She’s not your piece of meat to fight over!” Dani finally bursts. The in-fighting stops abruptly as the attention turns to them. “I’m just saying- if she’s happy, can’t you just leave her be? She’s a person, not some object for y’all to fight about.” 

The group all but forgets Dani even said anything when the one with the glasses turns back to Bradley. “You really think she’ll take Javy back?”

“A hundred percent. You remember how she used to look at him. And he was ass over teacups for her. Remember that year she bought him the Saints jersey with his last name on the back and he near lost his mind the first time she stole it to wear?” 

“Dude, he wasn’t half as bad dating as he was before. Remember the first time he brought her to the Hard Deck and he insisted he buy every drink for her?” Mickey chimes in. 

“I remember when they came to the house for the first time to watch a movie and Mickey kept teasing her about not doing anything on the couch, I thought Coyote was gonna drown Mick in the pool. He was so desperate to impress her and yelled at us for potentially making it so she never talked to him again.” Bob adds through a laugh. “Which she totally did, she fucking loved him from the first time they matched. Remember how his hands used to start sweating cause he got so nervous around her?” 

She glances at Javi and Boone next to her, glad to see her own unease is mirrored on their faces. Lilly’s reminder from earlier resurfaces in her mind as she plays with tab on her soda can. 

She loves you Kate. She wouldn’t go anywhere in the world you ain’t. 

“Coyote’s always had a way with words around her. He’ll say the right thing, tell her he’ll miss her, and she’ll come back just like she was always meant to.” Phoenix comments and she swallows, looking down at her jeans. 

Javi and Boone both stand up next to her, a whispered conversation happening she doesn’t care to try and hear as their exit goes unnoticed. The discomfort and unease in her stomach grows, feeling her whole world tilt at the thought that someone may say something to make you realize you’d been wrong to come to Oklahoma, wrong to love her, and that you’d go back to the place you had belonged this whole time. 

She catches Tyler’s eye, a stormy look growing on his face. 

I don’t like this, it says. 

She didn’t either. 

-

“See, I’d ask if you’re just taking a breather, but I know you, so you’re definitely hiding.”

Your eyes shoot up at Javy as he gently shuts the front door to the house, moving to sit down on the porch swing across from where you’re resting your weight on the porch railing. 

“Yeah, well, when they start eating my food straight from my hands I think I have to bow out.” 

He grins at the memory. 

Just half an hour ago, you’d been trying to shove Boone off of you as he attempted to take a bite of your burger, crowded up into Lilly and Dani’s space more than they probably ever wanted you to be. Javi had leaned over, taking a huge bite of burger as it had been sitting in your hand farthest away from Boone’s reach and you’d frozen in shock when you’d seen what he’d done out of your periphery. 

Dexter had tried to save face, over the sound of Dani yelling about how foul the move was, by saying that usually the lot of you were much more civilized but Tyler and Kate had immediately refuted it with a unified no, we ain’t. It had been all the encouragement you needed to plop what was left of the burger in Javi’s hand and to disappear outside.

“They seem to really like you. That one, Boone, was telling me we weren’t allowed to have you back. You’re theirs now.” 

You sigh, crossing your arms. “They’re- they’re really good to me. They’re family.” 

“I’ll admit that’s kind of hard to hear. Rooster and Fanboy kinda seem to be under the impression that you still might come back. Mav too. If I play my cards right.” 

You let out another sigh, looking away from him. “Javy, don’t even go there. Please don’t start that with me, cause you aren’t gonna like what I have to say.”

He shifts, bending to lean on his knees as he does his best to catch your eye. “What can I say to fix this? What can I say to convince you to come home?” 

“Oklahoma is my home!” You insist, feeling frustration begin to tighten in your chest. 

“No the hell it isn’t. How many times did you say your heart belonged here? How many times did you say you were meant for city living by the beach? And now you’re telling me that you live on a farm in the middle of buttfuck nowhere Oklahoma and you just what, love your life? I don’t believe that. Not for a minute.”

A whimper of frustration slips out as your hands come down to scrub your face. “Javy.” You say shakily. “I am happy to have any kind of closure conversation you need to have to find peace and move on. But if this is going to be about you trying to convince me to come back to a life I don’t want anymore, then I will go back inside.” You say, mustering up a calm tone you don’t feel and he reels back as if you’ve hit him. 

“I just don’t understand.” He says softly and your shoulders deflate. “I love you. You were my whole world, I wanted everything with you. I don’t understand. Help me understand.” 

His voice cracks and the lump in your throat from earlier reappears. “I was- I was unhappy for a really long time Javy.” 

He immediately shakes his head, cutting you off. “No, no that’s bullshit. I know that’s bullshit. C’mon, was there someone else?” 

“Are you insinuating I fucking cheated on you?” You near shout, straightening up. 

“Well!” He matches the raise in voice, standing up from the porch swing. 

“That’s bullshit.” You say. “If I recall, I was 25, working a dead end barista job because the masters degree I went into thousands of dollars of debt for proved to be useless with a boyfriend who let his friends walk all over me! I didn’t just wake up that day and decide I was miserable Javy! It was a slow build, a build you contributed to!” 

The front door opens and shuts and you spare a glance to see Boone and Javi lingering by the front door. 

Later, they’ll confess to you that the only reason they’d ventured outside to interrupt the conversation is because the pilots inside had gotten so smug in their surety that Javy would convince you to leave Oklahoma to be with him, they’d started to worry about you being alone on the porch. 

Javi had hastily assured you that they didn’t think you couldn’t handle yourself, but he was afraid he’d hit all your guilty spots, Boone sure he’d say all the things you’d wanted to hear back then, and you’d leave the Wranglers without so much as backwards glance. They’d wanted you to know they had your back. 

They’ll admit it was selfish of them and Dani will tell them they’re stupid for not remembering how much you love your life here, and you’ll tell them that you’re not angry, that their intentions had been good. 

All their presence does now in this moment though is piss your ex-boyfriend off as he throws his hands up. “Can’t even have one conversation without your little fucking guard dogs, huh? Little side pieces behind your girlfriend’s back?” 

“Stop it.” You say sternly. “Stop going there. You know I was never unfaithful to you, you know that I never would’ve done that.” 

“I don’t know if I ever knew you at all. Not really. So yeah, who’s to say if you aren’t a cheater if you were quietly miserable enough to dump me and run halfway across the country.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “God, you’re not listening to me. You didn’t listen to me then, you don’t listen to me now.” 

“All I ever did was fucking listen to you! You never shut up!” 

Boone lets out a “Hey man!” alongside Javi’s “Whoa there.”

“Don’t talk to her like that man.” Boone says. “Have some respect, that there’s a lady and she was a lady you cared a lot about, so be nice.” Boone drawls. 

Your ex fixes him with a glare that would’ve made a weaker man whimper, but Boone isn’t one to back down. He drives into tornados and shoots rockets at them for fuck’s sake. 

Unintentionally or not, Boone’s intervention gives you the pause you need to take a deep breath and collect yourself. “Javy.” You start, softer this time. His eyes snap over to yours. “I understand the anger and frustration and the confusion. I know that I left rather suddenly and I never gave you any explanation as to why. But you have to know, we were fighting all the time and I was so unhappy, not just in my relationship with you, but in my job and myself. And after Texas, I snapped. It was a catalyst event that permanently altered the course of my life.” 

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “The fuck does Texas have to do with anything?” 

You sigh. “You keep saying that you still love me, yeah? The problem with that Javy is that you’re in love with a version of me that doesn’t exist anymore. That girl that you loved died in Texas and she’s never coming back.” 

“I still don’t understand.” You sigh, licking your lips as you glance at your friends. Javy’s voice is rising again but you know that you’ll never be able to get him to understand the truth without blowing up Jake’s spot. And truthfully, maybe it’s long past due. “We were in love, we were happy, you were my best friend. We go to Texas for Bob’s bachelor party and three days later, you’re dumping me to go hop on a plane to Oklahoma to never be seen again. That doesn’t make any fucking sense! What the hell does Texas have to do with anything?!” 

You move faster than you let your brain think about it, sliding through your friends as you push open the front door, striding through the foyer. You catch Bradley’s eye as you do so and he straightens. “Where the fuck is Jake?” 

Jake comes into view as he shuts the fridge, turning to face you. “What?” He asks tiredly, but judging by the look on his face, you think he already knows. 

“I want you to be honest.” You say, every bit of the calm you’d tried to collect slipping through your grasp as you inch closer to Dani and Lilly. “Tell them the truth about what happened in Texas.” 

“Are we really doing this?” He asks, plopping down on one of the bar stools by the kitchen island. 

“You owe me, Seresin. After everything you put me through, you owe me.” 

Jake sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face as Javy’s head swings wildly between the two of you. 

Just when you’re about to turn and accept the villain narrative these men had decided for you, Jake sighs again. “I asked her to lie about the rodeo.” He says quietly. “We never made it to shelter.” 

“So? A little wind, a little rain, that’s your excuse for going off the deep end?” Javy snaps but Jake isn’t finished. 

“We watched Steven die.” 

The silence that follows is one you never want to experience again as the whole room tunnels in on Jake. Lilly stands up, Dani not far behind her, nudging you towards the door and silently talking over your head to your friends but you feel rooted to your spot. 

“What?” Lainey asks first, pushing her self up as she takes shaky breaths. “You- you saw him die? And you never told me?” 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me that Jake?” Bradley asks quietly, a quiet concern and cool anger laced into the words. 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know if I was trying to protect her or me but I did it anyways. It’s why I gave her Tyler’s number.” He says, finally raising his eyes to meet the room. “I’m the one who gave her Tyler’s info. When she dumped Coyote that day, I knew she was a serious flight risk in more ways than one and I- I knew if I could get her to Tyler, he’d take care of her. I knew she’d be safe with Ty. And I mean obviously he did.” He says, waving a hand at his brother and Kate. “I owed it to her after all this times I said those things about y’alls sex life, all those times I made fun of her behind your back. I mean, everything I said about her age or about how you guys wouldn’t work long-term so you guys would break up-“ Jake cuts himself off, sniffing. “I was awful to her under the guise of trying to be a good friend but I was a rotten friend and a rotten person and I’m sorry.” 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

You expect it to be Javy but it’s Tyler and you think you can see his hand shake as he pulls himself off of the couch. 

“Genuinely, you haven’t changed a day. You’re still that same piece of shit you were then, when you couldn’t bother showing up to our grandparents funeral, the people who raised us, because of some stupid little trophy. You’re out here a decade later making a poor girl in her twenties who was simply trying to exist with the guy she loved feel like her life isn’t worth living anymore, that she doesn’t offer anything of value to this world.” 

“But, I mean- it worked out right? she’s been with you guys and she’s happier than she’s ever been in her whole life.” 

“Oh, sure no, it worked out.” Javi intervenes. “If you discount the irreversible trauma and her inherent belief that she would always, eventually, force the people around her to see her as a burden, then yeah, it totally worked out.”

“Which we’re still working on undoing, by the way. Thanks for that. ” Dani comments dryly. 

“Okay, hey, hold on- that’s not all on Jake.” You interrupt and Bradley’s head swings towards you. 

“Are you seriously fucking defending him right now?” 

“I’m defending him because that’s wrong! What Jake did didn’t do anything other than reinforce an idea I have held about myself my whole life, Bradshaw! But you don’t get that, just like you never got it back then! You had two parents who loved you unconditionally and friends and all the support in the world! I’ve never had that! I grew up with a piece of shit family, I grew up with awful friends and an even worse ex-boyfriend, and you people refused to ever understand the life I came from! Don’t pin that all on Jake!” 

Lilly tugs on your arm, telling you to breathe and it’s the first time you realize you’re even crying. 

In a flash, you dig the keys for one of the cars out from Lilly’s pocket, turning on your heel. Your friends call out after you but you don’t listen to them as you wipe tears from your eyes, vision blurry as you make your way towards the car. 

And then someone’s there, wrestling the keys from your grasp. 

It’s Javi.

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” He says softly. “I just- don’t want you driving right now.” 

You nod, climbing into the car passenger seat. Once you’re in, Javi reaches over the console to give you a hug. It’s at an awkward angle and you can’t stop crying, but it’s warm and safe and all you need in that moment. 

“You’re gonna be okay, California. We got you.” 

-

“Where did you guys go?” 

Boone asks from his spot on the couch. He’s leaned up against Lilly, feet on Dani’s lap as Dexter putters around the kitchenette in your two bedroom suite Jake had paid for. 

“The beach.” Javi says, setting the keys on the entryway table. 

“Where’s Ty and Kate?” You ask.

It goes eerily quiet. “Um, they had to run an errand.” Boone says after a long minute. 

“I’m too tired to even unpack that.” You say, running a hand down your face. “I’m going to go shower.” 

You slip inside to the bedroom you and Kate had been sharing with Dani and Lilly, walking into the bathroom. After shedding your clothes, you step into the hot water. It soothing against your skin as you bite back a yawn. 

You’d told Javi to pick a beach, any beach, and the two of you had found a picnic table over looking the shore as you looked out at the moonlit waves. 

It had been a quiet, grounding peace that had settled over you as you had reviewed the events of the night. Javi’s quiet voice mixed with the crashing of the waves, soothing you as he talked about Miami, and the Tornado Tamers, and the military, and a hundred different things.

Now though, in the lull of noise, save for the quiet murmurs of your friends through the wall, guilt prickles at you underneath your skin, heavy and all consuming. 

It’s second nature, autopilot, climbing out of the shower and tugging on Kate’s sweatshirt, blindly pulling out a pair of sleep shorts from one of your bags. The bed that had once looked so appealing no longer looks comfortable as you have to work considerably to swallow around the rapidly growing lump in your throat. 

You open the door right as Kate and Tyler return to the hotel room. Tyler gives you a grin as he waves a bag in the air. “Look where we trekked to. Surprise.”

Normally, you would’ve grinned and laughed and said I’d pay good money to see the Midwesterners in an In-N-Out but now all you can do is shrink into Kate’s sweatshirt as you get the overwhelming feeling that you don’t deserve this. 

You don’t deserve Kate, you don’t deserve this team. Not this job you loved so much, not this life you’d carved out for yourself. 

Kate’s face falls as she closes the distance between the two of you. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m so tired of feeling guilty.” You gasp out, a sob you hadn’t expected coming out. It leaves you scrambling for breath, coming in ragged pants. “I’m tired of feeling guilty for being happy, for having this job, for tricking all of you into thinking that I’m- that I’m worth something. I’m so tired of- of feeling guilty for leaving him and- and I’m tired of feeling guilty for living.”

Kate’s hug is tight, almost as if she lets go, you’ll slip right through her fingers. “Sweetheart.” She whispers into your shoulder as you hesitate to wrap your arms around her. 

“I don’t feel like I deserve it. I don’t feel like I deserve any of it. I didn’t feel like I deserved it then and I don’t feel like I deserve it now.” 

Kate lets you go, a soft look coming over her face as her hands find your face. You feel like you look worse than you ever have, tears sliding down your face, choking on your own words and sobs and snot. 

“Baby…” She says, so soft and tender, in that way that’s all Kate and usually makes you blush, makes you feel more seen then you ever have in your entire life. “You’ve had one hell of a go at life, I’ll admit you got a rough set of cards. But you- you went through something traumatic and you made the only decisions you could at the time. Those people- they’re angry at you because they feel bad for their friend cause he got hurt. And maybe we’re all a villain in someone else’s life but you shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what you need to do for you.” She takes a deep breath. “You didn’t deserve to die for him any more than I deserved to die for my friends. And for the first time, I really mean that. We don’t deserve to suffer or feel pain for the rest of our lives because of it, you know? It’s okay for us to continue to live and laugh and love — our mistakes, they don’t define us. We don’t have to live there.” Kate’s eyes are pleading, begging you to hear her and understand her; to believe her. 

You nod as she swipes a thumb to wipe away a tear. 

“You would never blame me for what my happened to my friends. You’d never say I should suffer in pain or in a life of exile because of it. You’d tell me for what it is — that it was a freak accident and it was out of your control. You can’t spend the rest of your life in those haunted what ifs and I know you’d never want that for me either.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is gravely, raw, but you can’t even focus on it as Boone’s lanky arms wrap around your frame. “Yeah, I hear you.” 

“Sides, even if it were your fault-“ 

“Boone!” Lilly chides, even as she wraps her own arms around you. 

“I ain’t saying it is! You people, you always assume the worst outta me-“ 

“Get to the point!” Javi’s exhausted voice comes from the kitchen. You snort, leaning your head into Boone’s shoulder. 

“Get on with it, Booney.” You whisper. 

“‘M just saying, even if it were your fault, it don’t change that your part of our family now. Always gonna be, no matter where them wind or tornados take us. Or what some stupid Navy guy says about you for that matter.” 

Boone squeezes you before he steps back. Lilly lets you go, albeit hesitantly and you wipe your nose on the sleeve of Kate’s sweatshirt. Javi’s hand finds your back, wrapping you into a tight hug as you turn.  

“You gotta start letting yourself believe you’re worthy of good things.” He mumbles into your sweatshirt. “Trust me, I- I get it okay. It was just as rough for me when I left StormPar, but Boone’s right. We’re a family.” 

You nod into Javi’s shoulder, squeezing the man before letting him go. You wipe your eyes, taking a breath. “Okay, okay, I think I’m good. Just been a hell of a night.” 

Javi nods and the room breaks into quiet chatter as the bags of food get passed around, burgers getting split up among the group. 

Tyler grabs your arm as you pad over to sit on the couch next to Kate. His hug is tight, the smell of cedar and campfire lingering on his flannel a far cry from the smell of jet fuel and whiskey that followed his brother. 

“You saved my life T.” You say quietly, even though no one would be able to hear you through the conversation at the couch. “The Wranglers saved my life. I hope you know that.” 

He squeezes you. “Nah, kid. We just loved you enough for you to see why you should stay. The saving part was all you.” 

-

“I need to go run an errand.” The table looks up at you, pausing around mid-conversation, breakfast plates forgotten. “So you guys can head out on the road ahead of us.” 

“What’re you up to?” Boone asks.

You shake your head. “There’s just something I gotta do before we head out.” 

“Some unfinished business?” Javi asks. 

“Something like that.”

-

The weather is unusually dreary, rain drizzling down on and off as you make the drive over the Coronado bridge. You park in front of the boys house, turning the key in the ignition as you turn to face Tyler and Javi in the backseat. 

“I’m not sure how long this is gonna take, but I’ll be back.” 

“Man, what am I supposed to do to entertain myself?” Javi moans and Kate turns, giving him a sharp glare. 

Late last night, after everyone had fallen asleep, you’d admitted to Kate that you didn’t think you could leave things with him like that, that you couldn’t live with yourself if you never gave him the closure he so desperately needed. 

Kate had told you, voice muffled, that she understood. That she’d stand by you in whatever conversation you wanted to have with him. 

“Go take a walk for all I care. It’s a nice neighborhood.” You say, before wrenching the car door opening, cutting off Javi’s bemoaned But it’s raining! as you slam it harder behind you than you normally ever would’ve allowed it to. 

You wince, already hearing Tyler scold you in your head as you stride up the expansive driveway, saying a silent thank you that Javy’s beat-up truck is sitting in the driveway. 

You force yourself to take a deep breath as you knock on the door. The blue paint is peeling more than ever you note, before it swings open, revealing Mickey. He’s donned in basketball shorts and a muscle tee and must’ve just come back from a run, based on the sweat and rain accumulated on him.

He almost doesn’t seem surprised to see you. 

“Hey.” He says, leaning against the door. 

“Hey.” You respond. “Is Javy here?” 

He nods, opening the door enough to let you inside and the oak shuts firmly behind you as you follow him through the familiar foyer to the couches in the living room. 

“You guys are not much for redecorating.” 

Mickey groans. “Kid, the fact that we’ve gotten anything on the walls as long as we lived in this place is a miracle in and of itself, you know that.” 

Despite the situation, you snort, recalling when the boys had enlisted you to build Mickey’s desk one time two years into them living here. “Oh, I remember.” 

“Coyote!” Mickey shouts up the stairs as you arrive next to the couch, nudging Jake. He gives you a soft smile, pushing himself up to give you a quick hug. 

“I’m really sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to ruin it.” 

Jake shakes his head. “‘S my fault. You and I both know there was probably no other outcome than that.”

The fabric of his Texas sweatshirt is soft as he squeezes you, letting you go as you hear footsteps on the stairs. 

You sigh, turning catching sight of your ex turning the corner. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of you and he tugs on the edges of his Saints sweatshirt. 

He’s nervous, you realize. The taste of that truth is bitter and acrid on your tongue. 

“We need to talk.” You say with more stern bravado then you feel and you force yourself to soften as Mickey lets out a low whistle. “And you, uh, said you had some of my stuff.” 

“We have all of your stuff.” Mickey comments into his protein shake. “It’s all in Bob’s old room.” He points with a finger over his shoulder, but you still know the way. 

You head in the direction to Bob’s room, tugging on the sleeve of Javy’s hoodie as you do. 

He follows you, shutting the bedroom door behind him as you scan the room. “When did Bob move out?” You ask as you pull a box out, sifting through the books. 

“Like two or three months after you left. Think he had plans to move out earlier but uh-“ Javi pauses and your eyes flicker up to study him. “I think they were concerned I’d do something stupid to myself if it was too much change at once.” 

You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you squat and brace yourself against the box. “Javy.” You breathe out. 

“I’m really sorry about how last night went.” He says as he leans up against one of the taller stacks of boxes. “My Mom’s pretty pissed at me for how I handled myself. I’m mad at myself too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Drinking or not, you didn’t deserve it. I was just- confused and frustrated and so hopeful it made me scared. I guess I never prepared myself for what it would be like to see you again, even though clearly-“ He says, gesturing to the room. “I always let myself keep that door open.” 

“Why did you keep this shit anyways?” You ask. “You coulda let my Mom toss all this shit out.” 

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t have. I- I always thought maybe you’d come home. That when you did come home, you’d roll your eyes about your Mom and want your stuff back. Fools hope I guess.” 

You let yourself fall to the floor in a cross-crossed position, scrubbing a hand down your face. “Javy, I am so sorry about how I left. You deserved a lot better than that from me, after everything you did for me. But I was scared and I ran and you got caught in that.”

“Every day since then, I’ve wondered what it was about me that wasn’t enough to make you stay. Did I not love you right? Did I do something to hurt you? Did I not stop when I should’ve?” He takes a sharp breath at the thought that he might’ve pushed you too far while being intimate as being your reason for running. “Every night for two years, I’ve laid in bed at night, going over every single detail. But last night, after hearing that it was Jake’s fault, I’ve gone over every what if. What if he had listened to you? What if he hadn’t taken you? What if I hadn’t gotten drunk that night before or- or had convinced you to stay? What if you had stayed home from the trip; what if Sophia had never asked you to be a bridesmaid? What if-“ 

“Javy, stop.” You stay sternly, pushing yourself up off the floor. “You can’t live in those what ifs. They’ll drive you fucking crazy. You can’t keep living in the past. And it ain’t Jake’s fault, much as we would all, himself probably included, like to lay the blame on him. We can’t go back and change it and we can’t live in that history neither. What happened, happened.” 

He lets out a breath. “You’re handling this better than me.” 

“I’ve had two years to process it. I’ve had two years in a new town with a new job and a new partner and new friends to heal from all of it. You haven’t even had two days to grapple with the truth.” You say as you pop the lid on the box. Your eyes scan the room as you let him process the information, trying to catalogue all that he has, what you need and what you don’t. 

“My Niall Horan shirt!” You exclaim, wrestling a box out of the corner of the room. “I’d been wondering what happened to this!” You pop the lid off, subsequently discovering your American Girl doll. “And Julie! I remember that year I went as her for Halloween and brought her over here. She was the highlight of the party for all the drunken idiots.” 

“That was the year of the dolls.” He comments from behind you. 

“Yeah, yeah, cause you guys all went as Ken dolls, except for Mickey, who went as Carlos from Big Time Rush, and I finally had to explain to you who they were after I made that joke, that they were the greatest boy band of our generation, on our second date.” 

“It’s crazy to think about now, how the yahoos could all see how I felt about you and I was still insisting we were just friends.” 

“Oh, enough time has passed. We can admit now that we weren’t just friends. We made out too much, in public no less, for that to be anywhere near platonic.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute and you turn, worried you’ve gone too far. His eyes are glassy, a fond smile on his face. 

“I really loved you, you know that?” 

“Javy…” 

He gives a half-shrug, looking down. “You can say what you want about being unhappy, about needing to leave, but I hope you know that I really loved you. I really cared about you and I really thought some day you’d come home to me. You were my best friend and I wanted to grow old with you. It just- it just feels like it didn’t mean anything to you.” 

A lump grows in your throat as he wipes a few tears away from his cheeks. You look down, unsure if you should admit the truth. 

“Javy, I found the ring.” 

“W-what?”

“The night we got back from Texas, I accidentally found it. But it- it freaked me out. I was already walking such a fine line those days, so afraid and so mixed up from what happened, already so unhappy and I knew it was over then and there. Because I found it and pictured you getting down on one knee and tried to think of what I’d say and when I knew I’d say no, I knew I needed to end it.” 

He lets out a choked sob as you work your throat around the ever-growing lump, knowing you have to finish this conversation, as much as it pains you. 

“Javy, of course it meant something to me.” You say, unclenching your hand from where it’s fisted in the dark blue material of the t-shirt. You set the objects down back in the box, taking a few steps towards him. “Javy, I did love you. Really. You were my first real boyfriend, my first serious boyfriend, my first. I thought the world of you and you were my best friend too. Okay, my favorite times were when we would stay up all night laughing or- or all those times we just existed together. But both things can be true — you can have hurt me, I can have been unhappy, and we both can still have loved each other the best we could’ve at the time.” You say, taking another step towards him. “But that’s what I keep trying to tell you. That girl that I was with you, that person you fell in love with, she doesn’t exist anymore. I’m not that version of me anymore.” Javy only looks at you as he cries as you cling to the hope that this time he’ll finally listen.

“Can I have a hug?” He croaks. You nod, reaching out for him and he’s quick to tug you into his embrace, as if you might change your mind waiting a hair of a second longer. 

His hug is tight, and you can feel the way his tears wet your pale yellow Oklahoma crewneck, the same way you know you’re soaking his Saints hoodie. 

It’s weird, because hugging him doesn’t feel like coming home like it used to. 

It’s weird, because it feels like the door on this part of your life is finally shutting behind you. 

You think you’re at peace with it.

“You sure you won’t come back?” His muffled voice sounds. 

“You know I can’t.” He whimpers as you  shake your head. “I’d be coming back to a place that isn’t my home anymore, a life that isn’t mine. Javy, you have to let me go. If not for me, then for yourself.” 

“I don’t know how.” He pleads into your shoulder. 

“It takes time.” You whisper. “But one day it won’t hurt so much. I promise.”

You aren’t sure how long the two of you stand there, but finally he lets you go, stepping back as his back hits the wall, sliding down. You take that as a sign that you can get back to sorting. 

“Hey, you’ve asked me a lot of questions about what’s changed since you been gone. Can I ask you questions about what you’ve been up to?” He asks, voice watery and raw. 

“Seems only fair.” You say, squatting down to rifle through a box full of high school memorabilia. 

“Are you dating Kate?” 

You swallow, glancing at him as you pull out your yearbooks. “Yeah, I am.” 

“I figured.” 

“How’d you figure it out?” 

“She looks at you like how I used to.” He says with a shrug as he stretches his legs out in front of him. Upon seeing your dubious look, he lets out a wet laugh. “She just- she always found a reason to be next to you last night. She always brought you into conversation, looked for you when you weren’t with her, looked for you even when you were with her. It was obvious she cared a great deal about you and I sort of guessed she was who you didn’t want to bring into this.” 

You shake your head. “This isn’t her fight. She’s got my back, I know that, but this didn’t need to involve her if I could help it. It was between me and you.” 

“She seems cool.” He finally comments after a minute. 

“Freaky genius and all the wit to match.” 

“Like you.” Your cheeks warm at the compliment as you untangle the honor cords. “She make you happy?” 

“Honestly?” You say and he nods. “I see my whole life with her in a way I’ve never seen it before. She’s my best friend and my partner. I love her to death and there’s nowhere in this world I wouldn’t follow her.” 

“You guys have any pets?” 

“Two dogs and a cat.” 

“Jesus, is this farm you live on really a zoo?” 

“I think her Mom feels that way sometimes.” You say with a chuckle. “No, the team has Buttons, but he’s really Boone’s if you want to get into it. Ty’s taken on a dog I named Enid by sheer force of will from this dog. And Kate and I adopted a kitten named Peaches about this time two years ago. Ty and I are getting horses in October too.” 

“So… you and Kate living together?” 

You shake your head. “No. Not yet, anyways. Technically, I got a small two bedroom apartment in Tulsa I rent with the other Javi but he’s almost always somewhere in Arkansas with Boone in the off-season and I spend all my time with Kate on her farm when we aren’t out on the road.”

“They seem like really good people.” 

“They’re some of the best. Hey, are you still in touch with Elle?” 

Javy’s eyes widen. “Your friend from grad school? Some, why?” 

“You should ask her on a date.”

“No- No, I couldn’t.” 

You fix him with a look. “Why not? I bet that girl is still enamored with you.” 

“She was your best friend, that would be wrong.” 

You shrug, setting aside a snow globe. “We ain’t together anymore and Elle and I ain’t friends anymore. And trust me, if you and I hadn’t been what we were when Elle came into my life, Elle would’ve a hundred percent gone after you. And I wouldn’t be mad you know. You deserve to move on.” 

“Not with one of your friends.” 

You click your tongue. “I’m just saying…”

-

Kate’s drumming her fingertips on the edges of the door as the minutes tick by, the gnawing in her stomach resurfacing as the time drags on. Javi huffs for the millionth time, blowing a stray curl away from his face as a blue Bronco passes them, pulling up to park in the driveway. 

Javi leans forward, peering over the center console to study the two men climbing out of the Bronco through the windshield. “Hey Ty, isn’t that your brother’s fiancé?” 

Tyler looks up from his phone, glancing out his window. When he finally responds, his voice is impossibly tight, making her wince. “Kate, where exactly are we right now?” 

Upon her non-answer, Tyler pulls himself from the car, a colorful swear leaving his mouth as Javi follows right behind him. She scrambles out of her door, tugging on the two men’s arms. “Stop it.” She pleads, causing them both to turn. “Look, I don’t like it either but I gotta respect the fact that she wants closure. I’d do anything to have that, you know that.” 

Tyler yanks his arm back, striding across the lawn towards the two men as they let themselves in the house. Bradley’s eyes are wide as he catches sight of Tyler, shouting into the house. 

She groans when Tyler shoulders past Bradley and Pete, Javi still hot on his heels. “I am so sorry about them.” She apologizes to the two men as they shut the front door. 

“Tyler.” Jake growls, yanking on his brother’s arm. “I will sit on your head like I did when we were kids.” 

“I am not gonna let you do this to her again. For two years, my team has been putting that girl back together, putting together pieces of her you broke.” Tyler snaps, poking his finger into Jake’s chest. 

“Yeah? And he’s waited two years for this conversation, to finally get closure. They need this. And if you interrupt it, so help me God.” Jake says as he pushes his brother towards the couch. Jake takes the hint, sitting as Javi hesitantly follows suit. After a few moments of awkward silence, Kate clears her throat, catching Tyler’s eye. She jerks her head to his brother and he shakes his head. She does it again, causing Pete to glance up at her. 

“Are you okay, kid?” 

“Tyler.” She crosses her arms. “You know she doesn’t want you to leave it like this.” 

Jake’s eyes flicker up at her, giving her an eery sense of deja vu. It had been a strange adjustment, seeing a carbon copy of a person they all knew and loved, but yet acted so different. Whereas Tyler was rough around the edges, thick cowboy country accent and swear words that would make milk curdle and friends with everyone, ever the life of the party, Jake had kept a lot to himself the night before. He held himself together, never in anyway that would indicate cracks in his well-maintained image. She saw him let loose a few times with his friends, eager to hear about your and Tyler’s lives, and always polite to the Wranglers but there was a certain detachment from it all that Tyler lacked. 

“Tyler, I am sorry.” Tyler grunts, crossing his arms. Jake sighs before trying again. “For all of it. Genuinely. I know you’re thinking I’m real selfish right about now and I’m thinking it too. I’m sure she didn’t let up to the worst of it and I’m really sorry about all of it. But I didn’t call you for some sick or twisted reason of hurting her. I called you here because you’re my brother and I want you here. I want you to see this life that I’ve built for myself, cause I’m finally happy, and I- I want to share it with you.”

“Oh, you mean the life you were too busy building to come to our grandparents funeral? Some life.” Tyler scoffs. 

Jake’s shoulders fall. “Ty, I’m sorry.” He whispers. “You’re my brother, you were my best friend, and there hasn’t been a day that goes by that I don’t regret stepping up when it mattered. No stupid trophy or promotion was ever worth losing you.”

Tyler swallows, letting out a deep breath but doesn’t say anything further and Jake clearly accepts that that’s all he’s going to get out of him. He turns to Kate. “Is she happy? With you?” 

“Yes.” Javi blurts out. “So happy.” 

She peers down at her friend, who has a rapidly growing sheepish grin on his scarlet face. “The way you say that makes it sound like we aren’t happy.” 

“Just have to make the point.” 

She gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” She turns back to Jake and Bradley. “Yeah, yeah she really is happy.” 

“Does this mean I can go back to watching the Wranglers streams now or am I gonna get yelled at again? Cause now that you think about it, we all kinda gaslit Coyote.” Fanboy calls from across the kitchen. Tyler turns, giving the boy a curious look. 

“What?” 

“Mickey used to watch your guys streams until I started appearing in them.” You comment, appearing next to Kate. She jumps a little, taking you in. Your face has the remnants of tears, voice raw, but there’s a lack of weight in your body she’s been seeing you carry ever since she’s known you. You wrap your arms around one of Kate’s leaning your head on your shoulder after setting a plastic tub on the ground. “They all convinced him,” You say, jerking your head towards your ex. “That he was losing his mind. Also, how come my errands never get to just be my errands? What part of stay in the car until I got back did we not understand?” 

-

“I tried to stop them, really I did.” Kate protests. You let out a quiet laugh, hiding your face in the back of her shirt. 

“Have T and Jake made up?” You say quietly. She shakes her head and you sigh.  

“Tyler-“

“No, and we’re leaving.” Tyler says, cutting you off as he pushes himself off the couch. “With the way Boone drives they’re probably halfway to Vegas by now.” 

“That’s physically not possible.” Kate mutters and you snort. 

“Tyler, I don’t want you to leave things like this.” 

“That’s not your choice.” Tyler says gruffly, stalking to the front door. Both you and Kate wince as he slams it. 

“I don’t know where he thinks he’s going, I still have the keys.” You say, finally letting go of Kate. “It’s my car anyways.” You mutter under your breath before sighing. “Anyways, we should really be on the road because Boone’s probably stopped at the alien tourist stop in Bakersfield by now.” 

“If Tyler complains about traffic again, can we take a group vote to leave him on the side of the road?” Javi asks as he cranes his head up at you. 

“We’re not leaving Tyler on the side of the road.” Kate says with a tired sigh. 

“Even if he walks to Vegas?” Javi protests earning a tired laugh from you. 

“Okay Kate, will you drive?” She nods as you hand her the keys, Javi standing up from the couch. “Javi, take that.” You say, pointing to the box. “I’m going to be out in just a minute.”

You wait for the door to shut behind them before turning to Jake. “Okay Jake, you can have your real hug now.” He grins as you pull him into a hug. “Don’t worry about him. It’ll take time.” 

“I’m sure with a couple hours trapped in a car with you, he’ll cave and call.” Jake says softly, forced humor in the words. 

(It would take three weeks, an incessantly annoying three weeks on your part, before Ty got so frustrated with you he’d called Jake while sitting on top of his truck on the ranch in Arkansas. You’re still not sure what they talked about, what was said, but by the end of the week, Tyler walked into the house with a wedding invitation on fancy card stock Tyler teased Jake endlessly for.) 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, though.” You say, squeezing him. “Let bygones by bygones. I have.” 

He hums. “Take care of yourself.” 

Bradley gives you a brief hug. “I’m glad you’re happy and safe kid. That’s all I would’ve ever wanted for you.” 

“Hope you weren’t too hard on Jake.” 

“No more than the normal amount.” 

“The normal amount is zero.” 

Bradley laughs. “You’re being more fair to him than he deserves, hope you know that.”

“Something something time space therapy.”

You reach your arms out for Pete and he stands up, giving you a grin, as Bradley laughs harder. “Don’t do anything out there that I would do.” 

You laugh. “No promises.” You pad over to Mickey, giving him a tight hug. “If you ever decide you get tired of the pilot life and want to become a storm chaser, you let me know.” Mickey laughs. 

“You’ll have to unblock me first.” You cringe at the reminder and pat his back. 

“Done. You take care of yourself.” He gives you a two finger salute, letting you step back. 

You turn back to Javy, who’s mostly kept to himself through the whole conversation. “Come here you.” He looks surprised you’re offering him another hug, but he returns it nonetheless. “You be safe out there, you hear me.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He whispers. “Don’t get sucked up into a tornado.” 

“I’ll try my hardest. And uh, really do think about my Elle suggestion.”

You both linger for a minute longer before eventually he pulls away. “You sure that’s all you want to take?”

You shrug. “Yeah, I got what I need out there. Sell the rest of the stuff, make a quick buck off of me. It’s the least I can do.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Sounds like a deal. Uh, can I walk you to the door?” You nod and he trails behind you quietly. “So this is uh, really goodbye.” 

“Seems like it.” 

“I’m uh, really happy you found what you’re looking for. I can only hope I’ll find it someday.”

“You will.” You say quietly. “I’m really sorry it didn’t work out between us.” 

“It’s for the better it seems.” 

You nod. “Well-“ You clear your throat. “Goodbye Javy.” 

The door shut behinds you with a soft thud. You sigh, padding across the wet grass as you slip in the seat next to Kate. As she pulls away from the curb, Javi asks how you’re feeling. 

“It’s stupid.” You mumble. “But I keep thinking of this Taylor Swift lyric.” 

“Not this again.” Tyler mutters and through the rear view mirror you can see Javi flick his ear. 

“What is it?” Kate asks softly. 

“It’s just this one line — what a valiant roar, what a bland goodbye. It’s just odd, I think. I did really love him at one point and I did really think maybe I’d spend the rest of my life with him, that those would be my best days. And it all just kind of ends here.” You sigh, settling back into your seat. “But- I don’t know. I’m not mad about how it all happened, I guess. It lead me here.” 

Tyler lifts his chin, giving you a soft yet sincere smile through the rearview mirror. “And we’re happy to have you here.” 

-

“So,” Kate starts from the balcony of your Vegas hotel room. Your friends are fast asleep inside, all piled somewhere on the beds pushed together. You’re pretty sure when you left, Boone had pushed himself in between Tyler and Javi and was snoring. “I’ve been sort of- I kind of have something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” 

You glance at your girlfriend. “Yeah?”

She nods. “Last night, when Javi and Boone left cause of the bad feeling they got- they weren’t the only ones who felt that. It kinda made me sick, hearing them talk about you like that, and thinking about the fact that you might actually do it. That you might remember that you liked your life there better and leave Oklahoma.” She takes a sharp breath. “Leave me.”

“Kate-“ 

“I know I’m not really the best at- at always showing you how much you mean to me, that sometimes I get caught up in chasing the storm, in actually making it all mean something, that I forgot about how great of a thing I have. I’m trying really hard not to take it for granted, because I did once and I can’t- I can’t go through that again. To lose you would be one of the greatest losses of my life.” 

“Kate, I love you. You aren’t gonna lose me, I’m not going anywhere. I only want to be with you, there isn’t any other life for me except for the one right next to you.” 

She reached up, brushing away an eyelash that had fallen onto your cheek. “I think I’m sort of starting to understand that now.” She reaches out for your hand. “Listen, I‘ve sort of- sort of been keeping my eye on some places going up for sale in Sapulpa. I know my Mom doesn’t mind having us around but I think maybe it’s time we give her back her peace and quiet.”

“Kate…”

She reaches a hand up, tucking a hair behind your ear. “We can keep the barn as home base but I found this really cute place for not too bad of a price while we were driving out here. I sort of scheduled a tour with the realtor for the day after next.” She’s wearing a soft, cautious smile.

“Kate,” Your breath hitches. “Kate Carter, are you asking me to move in with you? Are you asking me to buy a house with you?”

She gives a sort of nonchalant shrug. “If that’s what you want.” 

“I- Yes, of course that’s what I want!” You exclaim, belatedly realizing you may wake your friends. Well, not Boone at least, who sleeps like the dead. Your voice drops considerably. “Yes, yes I would love that.” 

Kate gives you a grin, reaching out to tug on the elastic band of your pajama pants to bring you closer to her. You laugh, colliding into her. Your hands brace yourself on her shoulders as Kate smiles wider than you think you’ve ever seen her. 

“I love you so much.” She whispers. “How lucky am I.”

“I hope it’s like this forever.” You say softly. “I know, there’s no guarantee and eventually, they’ll find other things. But I hope it’s always this easy, you know? Not just with us but with them too you know? They might not be the Wranglers forever but I hope they’re our family forever.” You say, turning your head to look at your friends through the glass. 

You feel the outline of Kate’s smile on your cheek. “They will be. I promise. No matter where we all go, they’ll still be here. Can’t take the home out of Oklahoma, right?”

[sosuigeneris]

Socialite series: Manufacturing your Personality

So you want to get into high society. I can give you a guideline as to how you can do that. 

I was born in high society, in India. I know how these systems work. Even across cultures, they’re quite similar. I know some German, Asian, American high society people. Certain things are very similar across continents. 

You can permanently secure your position by two ways: marriage, or by becoming somebody. 

In Indian high society, there’s two kinds of people: those who have lineage, and those who are rich. 

Those who have lineage are those (mostly bankrupt) Maharajas, artists, singers, musicians, poets for generations - it’s an art form or royalty handed down to their children. They have ✨culture, a legacy✨ that can only be obtained by birth. They want to mingle with the business rich so that they get access to the opportunities they need for their livelihoods. 

The business rich can be new or old money. It doesn’t matter. Their businesses are family businesses. They have money, but may lack class. Don’t be mistaken that only new money can be “tacky” - I know plenty of influential, old money families who are equally classless and tacky. 

They want to mingle with the lineage crowd because they need that ✨culture✨ to be seen as someone. They want to be associated with them, to improve their reputations. By connecting to the artistic and musical world, it shows that they have class and persona. 

Both groups, as you see, need each other. You may ask - can’t there be families where there’s both?

Yes there can. But that is not common. 

Let’s say you take the route of dating someone who is of high society, and are hoping to convert that into marriage. I’ll be very honest with you - you have to seriously stand out for Asian and Middle Eastern high society families to accept you if you lack both lineage and money. 

You need to have a strong educational background - you need to go to a great college or masters, or whatever - otherwise this is really not going to happen. This is requirement number 1. If you don’t have this, don’t even bother reading the rest. 

And in Asian and ME families, remember one thing. Marriages are between families, NOT individuals. You have to impress the family, the family’s friends, their maids and barbers and god knows who else. 

And here are Cherry’s insider tips, just for you, to fit right in. If you fit in comfortably, it makes your life and everyone else’s life easier. 

Extrovert tendencies 

don’t be intimidated by people, don’t be shy or awkward 

It’s better to mix in being a combination of “social + slightly bored” like “it’s nice to meet you, but I wouldn’t die to be here.” 

Be open without jumping around like a Disney kid. Being “overexcited” or jumpy, smiling and laughing at just about everything comes across as weird in some cultures, IF that’s not how you genuinely are. That might work in the US, but not everywhere else. 

If I had to very simply define an extrovert - approach new people with ease, learn the art of small talk and be a good listener. 

Confident 

have a sense of self: career, hobbies, likes or dislikes, experiences

Be a multi faceted person. Do things that YOU like. If you like reading Japanese literature and collecting quartz, great! That’s your thing! 

Good communication skills

articulate, small talk abilities, good listener, curious, engaging

be able to tell little stories about yourself without giving everything away 

Well dressed 

do an image consultation for your colours, understand your body shape type and find a style that works for you

Create a capsule wardrobe that is timeless 

Remember - modesty is ALWAYS the best idea for any event. 

Posture - stand up straight, be able to walk in heels, sit without slouching

if you don’t know how to walk in heels, learn to. Practice it. 

Sit up straight, do some yoga or something for good posture 

Maintenance- good skin, hair, fit body, skin, nails, teeth; good hygiene; smell good 

hygiene comes first. Shower regularly, wash your hair as often as needed. 

Put on perfume. 

Find a make up style that works for you. Again, this takes practice. It took me years to figure out what kind of eyeliner works on my eyes and that bronzer doesn’t suit me at all. Crazy make up, unnatural hair colours, visible tattoos or piercings will not sit well in these societies. 

Etiquette 

dining etiquette- learn how to eat properly. This is not just for white culture but for other cultures as well. Understand broadly how popular cultures etiquettes work - Japanese eating etiquettes, European fork and knife etiquette, Korean drinking etiquette, Indian and Middle Eastern etiquette, etc. 

giving appropriate gifts to the host - bottle of wine or flowers 

Learn thank you etiquette- shoot a text message to the host thanking them for the event 

Intelligence

Show that you have some sort of a personality. 

Stay updated with current affairs

know your line of work and the relevant people (top companies, CEOs, etc), trends happening in your industry 

Be open to learning new things  

Put together

have a routine, show some form of discipline. 

This can be done by committing to something long term, such as healthy habits - exercise, reading, waking up early. 

Keep a watch on what you say 

people, especially women, who come across as bratty are seen as a big no no and can come across as exhausting and blood sucking. Zip it. 

Don’t talk about your failures, vulnerabilities, mistakes or mishaps. That’s confidential. 

Don’t complain or be snotty or a potty mouth. 

Do not put other people down in front of people who are not your absolute close friends. 

Poise (this is for your mental health and wellbeing)

Don’t be over eager. Being overly friendly can be seen as submissiveness. 

You’re overly friendly with someone because you want to be accepted by them. Acceptance only happens when you’re familiar with one another. When you become too familiar, it becomes a breeding ground for disrespect. Boundaries get crossed easily. 

Body language

practice practice and practice. 

Video yourself and have a fake conversation with someone. Or maybe FaceTime a friend and record yourself and see how you react to things. 

I used to watch those “try not to laugh/ get angry/ cry” videos to maintain a strong facial expression at all times. Not everyone deserves to see you vulnerable. 

Social media 

Take. Shit. Down. 

Go private if you don’t make money of social media. You’re perceived as more mysterious if you’re a private account. 

Remember, even if you’re private, it doesn’t mean that your pictures aren’t being shared. Someone’s taken a screenshot at some point for SURE or shown your account to someone else. Don’t give anyone anything to talk about. 

Don’t upload every second of every day. 

Don’t upload anything questionable- your break ups, your new boyfriend, girls nights, clubbing, your latest shopping spree etc etc. Keep things halal. Think of it this way - if your boss were to see those photos, how would you feel?

Overexposing yourself on social media comes across as desperate for attention. Limit that.

Cherry 🍒

[hermiona52]

I can't stop thinking about the recent cases of horrible abuse of women in France, South Korea, Uganda and India, so this fragment of Pauline Harmange's "I Hate Men", about why misandry is actually a healthy and reasonable response, is always on my mind:

If misandry is a characteristic of someone who hates men, and misogyny that of someone who hates women, it has to be conceded that in reality, the two concepts are not equal, either in terms of the dangers posed to their targets or the means used to express them. Misandry and misogyny cannot be compared, quite simply because the former exists only in reaction to the latter.

You’d literally have to have never looked beyond the end of your nose –or alternatively to be possessed of exceptional bad faith – to deny point blank that the violence women suffer is, in the huge majority of cases, perpetrated by men. This isn’t a matter of opinion, it’s a fact. The reason society is patriarchal is because there are men who use their male privilege to the detriment of the other half of the population. Some of this violence is insidious, background noise in the daily lives of women, so pernicious that we grow up with the impression that it’s the norm in male/female relationships. Other kinds of violence are so shocking that they make the headlines in national newspapers.

In 2017 in France, 90 per cent of the people who received death threats from their partners were women, while 86 per cent of those murdered by their partner or ex-partner were also women. Of the sixteen women who killed their partner, at least eleven, that is, 69 per cent of them, had themselves been victims of domestic violence. In 2019, 149 women were murdered by their partner or their former partner. In 2018, 96 per cent of those who received a prison sentence for domestic violence were men, and 99 per cent of those sentenced for sexual violence were men.

It’s not only women who are the victims of sexual attacks and rape, though it’s hard to find statistics of sexual attacks on men. There’s an enormous taboo when it comes to talking about sexual violence perpetrated against men, who suffer the full force of sexist stereotypes that imply that aman cannot be raped, since supposedly they’re always up for sex. It’s also very difficult for men to talk about sexual trauma. Society expects them to be strong and virile: nothing can be forced on them – and if it is, they aren’t ’real’ men.

A significant number of rapes are committed against minors, both male and female, and here too, the perpetrators are overwhelmingly men. In fact, whatever the sex or age of the victim of sexual harassment or violence– whether male or female, child or adult – it is vital to emphasise that the vast majority of those responsible for such violence are men.

[...] There are plenty of reasons to dislike men, if you think about it. Reasons backed up by facts. Why do men hate women? During the thousands of years that men have benefited from their dominant social position, what did we do – what have we done – to deserve their violence?

Misandry has a target, but it doesn’t have a list of victims whose morbid tally is totted up on almost a daily basis. We don’t injure or kill men, we don’t prevent them from getting a job or following whatever their passion is, or dressing as they wish, or walking down the street after dark, or expressing themselves however they see fit. And when someone does give themselves the right to impose such things on men, that person is always a man, and it still falls within the heteropatriarchal system

We misandrists stay in our lane. We might hate men, but at best we put up with them, frostily, because they’re everywhere and we don’t have any choice (incredible but true: it’s possible to hate someone without having an irrepressible urge to kill them). At worst we stop inviting them into our lives – or at least we make a drastic selection beforehand. Our misandry scares men, because it’s the sign that they’re going to have to start meriting our attention. Having relationships with men isn’t something we owe them,a duty, but, as in every balanced relationship, all the parties involved have to make an effort to treat one another with respect.

As long as there are misogynistic men who don’t give a damn, and a culture that condones and encourages them, there will be women who are so fed up they refuse to bear the brunt of exhausting or toxic relationships.

[bringbacktim]

sebastian vettel x reader where y/n comforts him after his difficult time in ferrari. fluff to smut maybe hehe x

Red to green

Sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted , I got carried away with the dialogue as I usually do , it does have a sexual ending but not quite smut as I just wanted to get this out

Not edited or proofread

Warnings: mentions of sex and sexual things , sad seb ig , probably incorrect use of German words , a crap ton of dialogue

Wc:738 words

You're replacing Checo at force India and I had to find out through the f1 Instagram page" Y/n asked storming into the room where her husband sebastian was

"It's Aston Martin now , but yes I am" he said not daring to move out of his chair as she seemed calmer than she should be and he was scared she was going to try and hurt him if he got up

" Still doesn't answer the question of why you didn't tell me you're own wife" she said crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at him waiting for his answer

" I didn't want to tell you Schatz because of how bad my ferrari season went , if I told you everything would've went bad" he explained hoping for sympathy

" I thought I was your good luck charm though?" She fake pouted and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she sat sideways on his lap

"Don't give me that face , you know what I meant leibling" he laughed

" It's just like when you start dating someone so you don't tell anyone cause once you do they start to not like you anymore , I get it seb. I just wish someone atleast told me so I could've stopped buying ferrari merch"

"You look so good in red though" he teased as he traced up and down her arm ( I literally don't know how you describe it )

"Flattery will get you very far with me mr.vettel" she tried not to cringe as she said that but with of them both laughed

"You can go back to being mad with me how" he told her as he gave her a flirty push

"Well daniil isn't there anymore so you don't have to fight him , but bottas is and he did basically cost you the championship lead , but I'm sure you'll do great" y/n said holding his face and kissing his cheek

"Such kind words , you forgot when me and Lewis had contact in Belgium 2018 and I dropped to the back of the grid" he said looking sad at remembering the memory

"Didn't want to bring that one up since lewis is becoming a bit more of a madman when it comes to having contact with people"

As sebastian sat looking like a kicked puppy Y/n couldn't help but feel bad I mean she did bring up some of the bad things that had happened while seb was in ferrari but she was trying to uplift him in a joking manner , which clearly hadn't worked.

He assured her he was fine but even stevie wonder could see he was anything but .

Y/n tried to mention some highlights in his career like his red bull prime, but seb would just hit back with two other mistakes that happened whilst he was in ferrari as if everything bad that happened was his fault

"You know not everything is always your fault right? You tried your best in ferrari but it wasn't the right fit for you and that's okay"

"But ferrari is one of the best teams in the world and I was terrible, Charles even outnumbered me in Japan" her husband answered head in his hands

"Thats not the end of the world , you even said yourself that charles has a gift and Japan is only one race so why does it matter. Plus I wasn't there to give you any of my good luck"

"So it was your fault I did so bad?" He questioned half a grin showing

"I guess so yes all the bad things we're all my fault" she said with a michevous twinkle in her eye hoping they were on the same page

"Oh yeah ? Guess we're going to have to do something about that then aren't we" oh they were definitely on the same page , same sentence even

"What're you going to do ? Punish me for being so bad or something?" Y/n said stading up and walking slowly backwards towards the stairs that lead to their room

"Don't start something you can't finish" he warned stalking after her

"We both know I can make you finish, just depends where you want to" she giggled as she increased the speed she was walking at as he was hot on her heels

He only ever mentioned his sad ferrari memories after that if he wanted to either annoy his wife or get some

[aspoonofsugar]

Blake Belladonna's Design

This is a quick appreciation of our Cat Girl's design. Its objective is to offer a short analysis by incorporating elements of other metas. Ideally, the end result will be something similar to Yang's post. Finally, this is the final piece of my mid-summer Blake meta spree :) So, enjoy!

JUST ANOTHER CAT GIRL?

Blake's design plays with the idea of "cat girl". Cat girls are common in anime and mangas, but are often overly sexualized. In particular, cat ears are usually presented as an overly cute trait and sometimes a fetish.

RWBY takes this idea and subverts it in 2 ways.

Blake's ears are initially hidden, so that her affinity with cats gets highlighted through other aesthetical elements:

Gambol Shroud's ribbon resembles a cat's tail and it being a whip may reference the infamous cat o' nine tails

She decorates her eyes with cat eye makeup

She is able to make copies of herself, which get jokingly referred to as copycats

In Mistral she wears leg boots, which bring to mind Puss in Boots

In Atlas she wears a catsuit

Blake's cat trait becomes a core part of her identity, which is explored on a double level:

It represents her faunus heritage, which makes her different from humans and discriminated

It is a symbol of Blake's troubled past and of her involvement with the White Fang

So, Blake covers her cat ears to run from both society and herself. Just like a scaredy cat ;)

As you see, with some limitations and worldbuilding, Blake manages to be a cat girl with much depth to her. Still, there is more to her cat design.

FROM CALICO TO TUXEDO

Let's juxtapose Blake's initial concept art with her final design:

What changes is the cat used as the main inspiration.

In the initial concept art it is the calico cat (tricolor cat):

In the final character design it is the tuxedo cat (bicolor cat):

Why the change? Let's explain it by highlighting one similarity (1) and one difference (2) between the two kitties.

1- Both cats are called after a type of cloth:

Calico is a fabric, which originates in India (the set of the Jungle Book - Blake's secondary allusion) and is famous for its colorful printed patterns. I wouldn't be surprised if Blake's clothes in the concept art were meant to be calico made.

Tuxedo is a formal wear, which consists of a black suit over a white shirt and a bow tie. Well, Blake's final design is a revisitation of the traditional tuxedo with a shorter jacket and a bow worn in the hair, instead than as a tie.

The idea of "cloth" is heavily used in Blake's design, which may be one of the reasons why the tuxedo is eventually chosen. This kitty, thus, offers a pretty poignant metaphor.

It all starts with Gambol Shroud, where shroud means a piece of cloth that conceals or protects:

Here come two thoughts:

Blake's bow is her shroud which is why it resembles her weapon’s ribbon (same color and similar material). The bow is the ears, while the ribbon is the tail. Together they complement Blake’s cat design.

Some tuxedo cats are called tuxedo masks because it is as if a black mask covers their whole faces. It is easy to see how this concept fits Blake, who conceals herself thanks to a little piece of fabric.

Basically, Blakes's bow is her tuxedo tie, which is worn as a mask.

2- The two cats differ when it comes to their color:

The calico is a tricolor cat, which is mostly known as having a white coat with some orange and black patches

The tuxedo is a bicolor cat, which has white and black fur

These two color patterns are another reason why Blake has been characterized as a tuxedo instead than a calico. As a matter of fact the black and white dychotomy fits our beautiful faunus girl more.

WHITE AND BLACK = BEAUTY AND BEAST

In old English, Blake's name means both black and white. As a result, she is linked to both colors, which tie with her light and shadow motif:

Blake is associated to the twilight because it is where light and shadow meet. What's more, her musical theme is built on this duality. She starts in the shadows and climbs her way up towards the light.

Well, Light and Shadow are linked to two Jungian Archetypes:

The Light is the persona, so what is shown to others

The Shadow is what is repressed, so the hidden parts

And these two archetypes are explored in The Beauty and The Beast:

The Beauty is the light - she is beautiful, lovable and accepted

The Beast is the shadow - he is ferocious, scary and misunderstood

So, Blake's own allusion can be read as the integration of beauty and beast, light and shadow, so that a new unit (a new individual) is born. This is also Blake's arc in a nutshell. She starts as a shadow because she hides herself, but with time she steps into the light and shows the world who she is.

In other words, Blake's Beauty and Beast allusion is referenced in her appearence not only in her nature as a faunus, but in her color scheme too. She is both beauty and beast, light and shadow, white and black.

This is also why these two colors are incorporated in respectively Sun and Ilia.

Sun is white, as he leads Blake towards the light:

Ilia is black, as she forces Blake to face her own shadows:

Through them Blake integrates her shadows and stops hiding:

This is why her design changes in Mistral in two notables ways:

She gives up her bow once and for all

She wears a white jacket over a black top

These two details mirror Blake's inner journey. She learns to show herself more, so her ears get to be out in the open and the light (white) surfaces. In Beacon, instead, the ears are concealed and Blake is wrapped in shadows (black).

Ironically, this means Blake's design loses the core traits of her tuxedo cat inspiration. As a matter of fact she has no bow tie anymore and the color pattern is inverted, which doesn't work. Why this choice? It is because Blake is going from Beast (black + cat) to Beauty (white + individual). Symbolically, this happens as she shows her faunus trait more openly:

She grows more beautiful (human) as she openly embraces her beast side (cat).

GOLD, BLUE AND PURPLE = HOT, COLD AND JUST RIGHT

The shift from calico to tuxedo brings some consequences to Blake and Yang's complementary designs.

Let's compare the bees exploratory ideas:

As people have noticed, Blake and Yang are aesthetically and symbolically linked since early on.

Here, we have:

Blake with one gold eye and one blue eye

Yang with a blue bandana

This chromatic choice ties into Yang's allusion and design. As a matter of fact our Goldilocks uses colors to represent the too hot, too cold and just right. Specifically:

red/orange is the too hot

blue/green is the too cold

purple (blue + red) is the just right

So, in the picture above Yang's looks play with the dychotomy between too hot and too cold. This same duality is mirrored in Blake:

She is both too hot (gold eye) and too cold (blue eye)

She wears much gold in general (Yang's main color)

The idea is clear. Blake is Yang's hot and cold. In particular, she brings some needed blue in Yang's life. She helps Goldilocks cool down and become more balanced. Similarly, Blake proudly wears Yang's golden tones, as she has to grow more like her Golden Beauty.

So, how have these ideas evolved in Blake’s final design?

Blake has gained a strong association with purple, which makes her Yang's just right

Blake's color scheme has ditched gold in favor of silver, which makes her and Yang complementary

Blake's link to purple is interesting because this color calls back to her family and to the surname Belladonna (beautiful woman in Italian). In other words, it is connected to both Ghira's legacy and her Beauty side. So, it is not a surprise that Blake grows more purple in each arc:

She is slowly blooming into Yang's just right by reconciling with her legacy and by becoming a person worthy of our golden girl.

This transformation is highlighted also by Blake integrating some gold into her:

In both her Vale and Atlas's designs Blake is linked to silver, so that she can complete Yang's gold. Still, in Mistral she has some gold details because this is the arc where she integrates her missing parts. This integration ends with Adam's death and Blake's rebirth:

So, Blake's design tells a story of inner growth, which leads her to stand beside Yang as an equal:

Blake: She's not protecting me, Adam. And I'm not protecting her. We're protecting each other.

This theme is important for Blake's Cat Girl archetype. Cat Girls, thus, are often reduced to love interests, but Blake's arc is a deconstruction of this idea. What would happen if the male partner of a Cat Girl is abusive? Blake explores this concept and tells a story of liberation and development, which ends with a reconstruction of the trope. Our Cat Girl ends up in a happy relationship, but not as a shallow prize. Rather as a winner.

BEASTS, LIONS AND WOLVES

In conclusion, Blake's design alludes to the Beauty and Beast on three levels:

Society= Blake is both human (beauty) and animal (beast)

Couple = Blake and Yang are drawn as complementary

Individual = Blake is both white (light) and black (shadow)

Still, this is not the only fairy tale our Cat Girl ties into thanks to her animal features. Here come three examples.

Blake is Bagheera's daughter and a small panther (a cat) in the Jungle Book

Blake is a Scaredy Cat to Lioneheart's Cowardly Lion. Except that of course the cat is braver than the lion

Blake is Ruby's black beast in team RWBY's LRRH team allusion

This last reference is foreshadowed since Red Like Roses:

Black the beast descends from shadows.

After all, the Beowolves appear when Blake's line comes up.

Moreover, Blake's secondary allusions all come together to strongly link our Black Shadow to wolves. In the Jungle Book, Mowgli is raised by wolves, just like Blake grows up in the White Fang. The name of the group itself calls back to wolves, as it references the title of Jack London's book about a half-dog half-wolf, who fights to be accepted by humans.

Finally, it turns out Blake is not the only Cat, who turns out to be a Wolf:

In short, Blake's design lets her freely move between allusions and references. Not only that, but it is crafted to add depth and thematic resonance to her character and her arc. Not bad for just another Cat Girl, uh?

[winterlogysblog]

Fairy Scents ft. Kiane Kids Scent Headcanons

It's well established that each fairy has a scent that is associated with a flower or a herb. So far we have confirmed scents for each notable fairy we have been introduced to.

So after some quick research I found some info about these flowers and their scents

King - Gold Osmanthus

Osmanthus Wine tastes same as I remember, but where are those who share the memory XD

Origins: China

In the language of flowers, they carry the meaning of love and romance, symbolising true love and faithfulness

Smells like a mix of juicy peaches, ripe apricots with soft leather or suede.

Elaine - Lavender

Origins: Mediterranean

Represent purity, silence, devotion, serenity, grace, and calmness.

Biblical meaning of lavender symbolizes purity, devotion, and love

Delicate, sweet smell that is floral, herbal, and evergreen woodsy at the same time

Helbram - White Rose

Origins: Ancient Greece

Symbolize loyalty, purity, and innocence.

Combination of floral and fruity notes, with hints of honey and jasmine

Fun fact: A White Rose is what King used to kill Helbram (the first time) it turned red because of the blood

Gerheade - Mint

Origins: Mediterranean

Symbol of Hospitality and Wisdom

Gloxinia - Ginger

Origins: Maritime Southeast Asia

In many cultures, ginger is considered a symbol of love

Used in religious rituals to symbolize cleansing, protection and blessing.

Warm and spicy, with a hint of sweetness

Lancelot - Lemon

Origins: Unknown (said to be first grown in Northeast India, Northern Myanmar, or China)

Symbol of purity and cleansing

Headcanon Time

Since Nakaba hasn't spoken out about their scents I'll give my thoughts on the matter.

Lancelot introduced fruits into the mix of scents and Gloxinia smells like Ginger which is a root so I went ham with this.

Nasiens - Oleander or Sunflower

Oleander are toxic which is very fitting for our Mad Herbalist

Smells like Vanilla

Oleander symbolizes love, beauty, and resilience

I want one of Kiane's kids to smell like Sunflowers cause you know... Sunflower

Sunflowers also don't have a distinct smell so it's actually fitting for Nasiens since he grew up thinking he's human so there's really no natural fairy-like smell he could have detected from himself

Sunflower represents longevity, lasting happiness, adoration, and loyalty

Sixtus - Peach

Since Sixtus looks extremely like King I think it's only fitting if his scent is close to King's as well

Peaches symbolizes longevity

Belte - Jasmine

Belte gives Helbram energy and he kinda looks like him too so his scent also needs to give Helbram energy

Jasmine stands for purity, simplicity, modesty and strength.

Zana and Zillian - Blackberry and Raspberry

Since they're twins I want their scents to match

Blackberries are mild, sweet and slightly acidic scent, with earthy and woody nuances.

Some believed that blackberries contain properties of abundance and prosperity

Raspberries are fruity, sweet and slightly acidic

Raspberries are symbol of kindness in Christian art.

Tioreh - Pink Hyacinth

Phao - Lily of the Valley

Symbol of purity, joy, love, sincerity, happiness and luck,

Has a floral and green scent, with fresh and slightly sweet notes

I want one of Kiane's kids scents to come from the earth, something underground. There's an underground Orchid but it smells bad so that won't do so I specifically looked for a flower that has an earthy scent. I also want it to be PINK for Tioreh

Sweet, robust, and earthy

Pink hyacinths symbolize playful joy.

[wrixie]

♡ JUMPING for JUNIPER | A BACHELORETTE CHALLENGE

> Introducing Juniper Lane Olevera | Age: 26 | Pronouns: She/Her Traits: Over-Achiever, Creative and Romantic

> Growing up as the eldest of three, Juniper aimed to be the best role model she could be for her sisters. She worked hard to get her culinary degree from Foxbury Institute and land work in 4 star restaurants. This introverted chef/baker is looking for someone to take her away from her over-pouring amount of work and show her what love could look like. Could that someone be you?

Likes: True Crime Podcasts, Reading, Physical Affection, The Smell of Leather, Baking, Gourmet Meals, Long Hair, Jazz Dislikes: Soggy Cakes, Hot-Headedness, Being Yelled At, Polyester, Massages, Stand-Up Comedy, Horror Movies

Fun Facts About Juniper:

Has a culinary degree

Can’t drive

Allergic to pet dander

Has Oppositional Defiance Disorder

Doesn’t go a day without talking to her dad

Has a nail biting problem

Hopes to own a bakery someday

♡ Contestant Entry Guidelines:

Must be young-adult or adult

Humans are only being accepted this time!

Must have at least one negative trait

Can be any gender

Cannot have the romantic trait

Skills don’t matter!

Should have Likes + Dislikes (if ya like)

Maxis-Match or CC free

Must be comfortable with changes such as eyes, skinblend + lashes as I have my own defaults and preferences as well as outfit changes to fit into my game style

> Remember to at me @wrixie or use #junipersBC to make sure I see your entry + ask if you have any questions

♡  7 / 7 CONTESTANTS

ADRIANA MORENO - @rainymoodlet

AZURE KEAHI - @rheallsim

INDIA LYON - @pearlean

KINGSTON LEARY - @acuar-io

NAVEEN MUTANI - @squeezesublime

SHA WEST - @alltimefail-sims

SILAS CLINE - @townieandy

SEND ME YOUR SIMS, PLEASE

[tododeku-or-bust]

genuine question: is all antiblackness founded on white supremacy? or colorism founded on white supremacy?

You sent another ask saying "always founded" to clarify. From what *I* know to be true:

For your second question, No lol. Colorism is worldwide, long long before the concept of race as we know it existed. One example is how peoples from in East Asia and in Europe might deem you classless and poor as a field worker if your skin was any sort of tan from exposure to sun, let alone darker. I was once told that darker skinned people are more likely to be considered "untouchables" in India; they definitely aren't fitting in with the desired beauty standards.

Antiblackness and its ties to white supremacy began with rich European men needing a reason to deem what they called "Black" people as inferior, inhuman, so that people would feel less responsible about their enslavement of human beings. They already saw African peoples (really anybody not their flavor of European) as savages. It also worked out that you could keep newly dubbed poor "white" men from questioning the new pillar in class structure, bc no matter how shitty their lives were, at least they weren't Black (sounds familiar? 👀) As Europeans (then Americans) colonized the world, they took those ideologies with them and started applying them. People of color fell in line with how White supremacists violently enforced their own society. The colorism kind of also just worked out, because if you tell people that Black people are the lowest rung, and they're already darker than you... There you go. So in Latin America, you might get categorized into a racial identity based on your proximity to whiteness. It's how you got the concept of model minorities, too.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

No matter what I always choose beauty. What comes with choosing beauty is more intention and alignment. Intentional living.

Thinking about how there is nothing more beautiful than cooking with a lover while dancing and kissing and sipping on a cocktail. If you are like me and don’t really drink, you sip when the mood feels rightfully beautiful.

No matter what I always choose beauty. Like Saidiya Hartman wrote, "beauty is not a luxury."

Beauty is nutrition.But beauty requires something more from us in exchange for its nutrients.

Beauty is not something this world gives to us and there is no guarantee that we will be ready, available, or present enough to really receive it.

Beauty is something that we have to be willing to claim, to pause and take notice of, to shut the fuck up and listen to, or to put in time and effort into feeling.

A beautiful sunset will just pass on by if you don't look up from your phone at the right time.

The effort it takes to put on a nice-fitting dress while home for no reason at all other than it feels beautiful on your skin or to take time to plate your home-cooked food in an artful way is something only you can give to yourself.

A beautiful bouquet of wildflowers brought home will be meaningless if you don't take time to contemplate and notice them.

I always choose beauty in the mess, in the ugly, in art, in meal prep, in lighting a candle, and in the shapes my female body makes.

I am on a partial road trip and packed two small ghee lamps. Even with a packed suitcase, I managed to squeeze in two brass ghee lamps, these little works of art and spirit. Ghee lighting symbolizes purity, peace and love and I light one every night in the kitchen and bedroom in lieu of artificial light and witness how the shadows dance prettily along the walls as I deepen into my night stretch.

I always choose beauty, glass jars tinctures I make by hand and take with me to spa. I could simply pack them into plastic bottles but then chemicals from the plastic would leech into the concoctions and change the molecular structure of the contents. I could just go to the store and buy whatever is available in plastic but it would lack quality. It would be easier to put the concoctions in plastic or just buy something similar instead of making them. I wouldn’t have to be extra careful to not break any bottles or have to take so much time getting ready for the spa, but I choose beauty.

Beauty is less about possession of it as conditioned and more about contemplation, awe, and wonder, witnessing natural light shine prisms through large bay windows.

One personal secret of the universe about me is that I quietly wear pink fuzzy kitten mule house shoes with a 1/2 inch maximum heel height indoors because they feel beautiful and sexy and work cutely with the shape of my body.

Beauty gives us feeling. It gives us height and it gifts us fire. It can turn us on and make us come fully alive.

Beauty can also set us free.

Because when we choose beauty, beauty naturally chooses us back.

--India Ame'ye, Author, From The Melody of Love, Opening Pages to Natural Beauty Chapter (unedited)

[45cementry-gates]

Thoughts on Ishan :

(and ict in general)

1. When he opted out of India's test squad before our series with S. Africa....I knew... I KNEW it will be a long time before we'll get to see him playing for India again.

And then few weeks later Rahul Dravid said in a press conference... He can come back... Just play domestic.... My heart sank.

Here's the thing, I don't blame him at all for taking a break due to mental fatigue.

I fully support his decision as well. He prioritised himself and that's good.

But my dude... If I was your friend, if I was there with you... I wouldn't have let you go.

I would have grabbed his trousers and refused to let go. This is team India. You take one step back and 10 other people are standing right behind you ready to take your place.

Shubhman gill was hyped up so much... Remember his 126 in 63 balls against New Zealand?

But he faltered.

And Today he's in reserve.

Jaiswal is going to be our new opener in all 3 formats very soon. And there's nothing wrong with that. The guy earned it.

Ishan left the South Africa Series and a month later during the india Vs England test Series Jurel was picked and he did an excellent job.

Now imagine... Imagine if Ishan was there instead... If ishan had scored those 90 runs.....he would have made his place permanent.

I'll repeat myself.... I don't blame him for leaving... But he should have thought this through. Especially when a guy like Rahul Dravid is your coach.

(he's the same guy who gave declaration during a test match when Sachin Tendulkar was about to score a century. He's not as innocent as he looks.)

Another thing which really hurts me is how so many people complain about him being benched and then dropped but Yaar....there are tons of players who have gone through this.

Even Ashwin was benched. He said in an interview that when his team would win he wouldn't even feel like going in the ground to congratulate them coz of how hurt he felt.

It happens.

.

.

.

Anyways My overall opinion on this drama is :

1. I support him for leaving.

2. But I hate that he left.

3. A block of ice would be a better coach than Rahul Dravid.

Anyways... Jo hogaya so hogaya.

What I want now is for him to focus on his future.

And He can start by leaving Mumbai Indians.

MI was the team who would pick young players, groom and invest in them and make them capable enough for team India.

The MI we have seen this year is no longer that team. It doesn't matter how many reels their insta page puts out, the atmosphere of that team is tense, awkward and a hot mess.

If Mumbai really cared about a future captain as they claimed.... They should have made Ishan their new captain...like how csk and gt did with ruturaj and gill.

But oh well.

Right now... The best he can do is keep himself fit, play domestic and leave MI at THE EARLIEST.

That team, it's atmosphere, the mismanagement and inner conflicts (believe me, they exist) will not help him at all.

Imo, he doesn't need a team to grow. He has developed a good skill set. What he needs now is a stage.

A team like Kkr, RR or Gt will be great for that because these teams don't drop Their players after 1 or 2 matches... Have good coaches, stable environment and a good atmosphere overall.

Ishan is an excellent wicket keeper + batsman and the type of cricket he plays is best suited for t20 format (one day and test also but especially t20).

Whether we win or lose this t20 world cup... This one is the last one for our senior players.

After that, our youngsters will take charge (at least they should).

Yashasvi and Abhishek should be our openers.

Gill, rutu and Riyan would perfect be for middle order.

Ishan, with his explosive batting style, would be the perfect finisher.

Also... This dumb culture of batters not learning bowling (encouraged by this stupid impact rule) that has developed in the Indian team needs to STOP.

Look at Australia and New Zealand's t20 squad. Look at how many all rounders they have.

Look at ours. We won the 2007 cup because of all rounders as well.

Also... We cage our players. We hold them back. A player like Travis head is playing with such ferocity because his style and mindset is supported by his captain, his team and his media.

Meanwhile... If an Indian player attempts to do the same and doesn't make a big score in 2 -3 matches... He'll be benched instantly.

Another thing... If we look up the stats of our players in this year's t20 wc squad...

Except virat, Bumrah and maybe kuldeep ...everyone else is on ram bharose.

When players like n. reddy, ishan, rutu, gill, Riyan, natrajan... will be groomed and given enough opportunities....their aggressive style will be supported instead of criticized.... that's when we will win trophies.

@fangirlingintellectual @roseromeroredranger @snowcloudsss

@ishuess @bimesskaira

[whencyclopedia]

Samudragupta

Samudragupta (r. 335/350 - 370/380 CE) was the first significant ruler of the Gupta Dynasty. Having come to the throne, he decided to extend the boundaries of his empire to cover the multiple kingdoms and republics that existed outside its pale. Known as the 'Napoleon of India' for his conquests, he was also a man of many talents and laid a firm foundation for the empire. The rise of the Gupta Empire and the beginning of its prosperity are attributed to him, his military conquests and policies.

Succession

Samudragupta succeeded his father Chandragupta I (r. 319 – 335 CE). Some historians, however, state that he was preceded by Kachagupta or Kacha who was Chandragupta I's eldest son. Kacha's identity is yet to be established, as only some coins bearing the name have been found and no other evidence of his rule has been discovered so far. The fact that Chandragupta I actually nominated Samudragupta to the throne shows that he was not his eldest son. Therefore, it could be possible that the historians are justified in saying that Kacha was the eldest son who succeeded his father as according to the ancient Indian custom of male primogeniture (his father's own wishes on the matter notwithstanding). Thus, Chandragupta could only nominate his younger son based on his abilities but was not able to actually make him king.

It is not clear as to whether Samudragupta opposed him or that Kachagupta's end was natural and he was succeeded by his sibling because he had no other heir. As to why Samudragupta opposed Kachagupta, if he did so at all, no information is available. What is known is that he was ultimately able to claim the throne.

Details of Kachagupta's reign are hardly mentioned in the historical evidence existing for the Gupta period, and hence most historians place Samudragupta as the successor of Chandragupta I, stating that Kacha was none other than Samudragupta himself; “Perhaps Kacha was the original or personal name, and the appellation Samudragupta was adopted in allusion to his conquests” (Tripathi, 240). Historian R.K. Mukherjee correctly explains that the title Samudragupta “means that he was 'protected by the sea' up to which his dominion was extended” (19). Referring to Samudragupta's accession, historian H.C. Raychaudhuri says that “the prince was selected from among his sons by Chandra Gupta I as best fitted to succeed him. The new monarch may have been known also as Kacha” (447). The grounds for such an assertion is an epithet implying “uprooter of all kings” used for Kacha in his coins, which was used only for Samudragupta as no other Gupta emperor ever made such extensive conquests. Had Kacha existed before Samudragupta and made such conquests, there would have been no need for the latter to make them! Kacha would have thus been included in the official Gupta records in glorified terms as well, which is not the case. As regarding Kacha's coins, “the attribution of the coins bearing the name Kacha to Samudra Gupta may be accepted” (Raychaudhuri, 463).

Though not validated by historical sources, another theory maintains that Chandragupta I managed to override the male primogeniture law and made his favourite Samudragupta the king. Enraged at his supersession as the eldest son, Kacha never reconciled with his brother and rebelled against him for the throne but was defeated.

Continue reading...

[phoenixyfriend]

Ko-Fi prompt from Anonymous Supporter:

For the Econ Topic, an analysis on a society that has magic and fantasy races would be nice. Or maybe how a guild of Thieves or Assassins would work in either real life, fantasy or sci-fi setting.

The former is far too varied and complicated a topic to fit into 500 words, but I can definitely make the latter work... by explaining what the fuck a guild is.

These days, the words guild and union are used more or less interchangeably, and they do admittedly have some overlap in modern capitalist society. In the historic Europe that many of these settings are inspired by, the word guild had a more specific meaning.

Let's unpack some of what the economic structure is in these settings.

Large, overarching companies engaging in multinational work are rare in those historic settings. You have some trading/merchant organizations (e.g. the Dutch East India Company) that fit that bill, work that couldn't be performed without a large, existing structure to back it (e.g. mining), and domestic agricultural lordship (you know, feudalism).

For the rest of the economy, though, you have small businesses. Technology isn't at such a point that something bigger can be done. Factories aren't a thing until the industrial revolution, but we do have division of labor, so there are people who specialize in baking, or weaving, or shoemaking, or pottery.

Many of these professions require years of training, from apprenticeship to journeyperson to mastery. Trade secrets are a big deal, you marry off your daughter to your apprentice to secure the line and prevent competition, and you try not to give up those secrets because if you do, what's to keep your lord and other rich folk from taking advantage of you, and paying you less than your worth?

That's where the guild comes in.

No matter how good you are at keeping secrets, the competition does exist. You cannot be the only baker, dressmaker, shoemaker, bricklayer, carpenter in town, unless your town is very small indeed.

Price competition isn't a great idea when profit margins are already low, and you are a small business that doesn't have the diversification or coffers to take the hit for a few weeks. If your lord tries to force you to sell low, you can't just refuse him! He's the one that pays whoever uses the swords!

If only you and all the other trained professionals in your industry could hold together and tell him, "Yeah, that's as low as the price can go. You are paying for the bare minimum of materials and labor with that. So sorry, can't go lower without taking an actual loss, and everyone else will tell you the same thing."

Joining a guild was often the only way to perform that craft or service in a given city. This prevented untrained, untested individuals from trying to peddle something that wasn't up to standard, but also acted as a form of gatekeeping that could prevent the market from becoming oversaturated with competition. The formation of a guild was often related to, or even reliant on, approval from local government or a monarch.

Guilds did absolutely have negative impacts, by the way, often through market manipulation and rent-seeking behaviors. They stifled innovation, gatekept skills, and were capable of price-gouging and price-fixing beyond the basic "this is how we keep from getting screwed over by the rich guys." While the guilds themselves were arguably intended to ensure minimum standards and protect against wealthy clientele, they were just as prone to stagnation and greed as any organization.

The guild differs from the unions in that the guild is for trained professionals that, by and large, own their business to some degree. The unions, meanwhile, are for laborers who work for someone else, and formalized labor unions only began in the mid-18th century, while trade guilds, or something like them, date back over four thousand years.

Remember how I said that factories as we know them, and that whole Big International Company format, didn't really start being a thing until the Industrial Revolution? You know how the Industrial Revolution started in the mid-18th century?

We now see the connection.

So, what does a guild of thieves or assassins mean, at its core?

Well, they have to be doing this professionally. Someone who's just killing for the fun of it isn't a professional assassin, being paid by other people for it, just like how the baker's guild isn't going to care overly much for the farmer's wife making her own bread for dinner. Thievery is a bit less obvious in terms of 'what counts as professional.' Does the person who picks pockets to pay their rent qualify as professional? Or just the ones who steal on behalf of someone else? What about burglars?

So part of what you'd need to untangle is what qualifies as professional for the thieves themselves.

Then, given that these are generally illegal acts in the first place, what purpose does the guild serve? Is the guild supported by the crown as a form of control over theft and assassination in the first place, like privateering? Does the guild institute rules on who can be stolen from, whether or not it's within guild rules to kill individuals of certain ages or genders or classes? What punishments does the guild implement on those who violate those rules?

If the crown allows the assassin's guild so long as members of the royal family are not targeted, is there a rule that any client who requests the assassination of a monarch must be reported, or killed on the spot? What government fees does the guild have to pay in order to exist? If they exist as an underground, unofficial group that is not affiliated with the government, how do they deal with the government? How do they hide? Do they dictate pricing? Do they pay off cops to stay under the radar? How do they advertise their services without getting found out?

For the thieves guild, it's even more wiggly. Who qualifies as a professional? Is it the pickpockets, the cat burglars, the people who climb into dragon's caves to locate ancient treasure and get out unseen? Is there a minimum yearly income threshold? How is that calculated? What about membership fees? Is membership singular, or can it be done as a couple, a team, a family? Are there groups that are off limits? Maybe there are two thieves guilds, one for those who can be Hired By Adventurers, acknowledged by the crown, and a second for those who work in the seedy underground away from official oversight.

There really is no one way for this to play out, and will probably vary from town to town or planet to planet in-story, but hopefully I've given you the framework to build up the various guilds you need for your story!

(Prompt me on ko-fi!)

[youremyheaven]

https://www.tumblr.com/youremyheaven/757046870112681984/httpswwwtumblrcomyouremyheaven75703907683788?source=share 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭ohh my god really my college boys are so immature 😫😫 that's why they treat my freinds like this btw your 24 are you pursuing you master's or job really i am studying in college and intrested in vedic ans stuff but bruhh i hate my college boys they are just 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡 we all need a responsible man just like him hope i find one can you tell what your experience in first relationship and firt time in ✨️it ( if you not comfortable don't tell just need some advice) AND FOR YOU I AM MANIFESTING THAT GUY AS YOUR HUSBAND

Cheek dapat dam dam chuu swaha ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️ heaven giel get this guy as husband with more greatness 👏

😭😭😭🥹🥹🥹🥺🥺🥺you're SOOOO SWEET, pura ka pura cutie pie <333

i graduated already and im just working at the moment. i dont really feel like studying further tbh lmao and im entering an industry where work exp matters more than degrees so✌🏻

and yes college boys will always be shitty, dont lose hope, after college you'll meet better guys!!! <3 and the thing is dudes under 25 are just little boys,, veryyyy few of them are mature and this guy is the rare exception

NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI

my first time was when i was 16-17 and the guy was 18 and a major asshole and he forced me to "date" him and then he r*ped me 🤡🤡🤡so i technically lost my virginity to r*pe but i dont want to think about that or consider that as my first time

i had my first "real" boyfriend in 12th grade and on Farewell day (its like the Indian version of Prom for all of you non-desis) he took me to his house and no one was home so we banged hehe<3333 he had a huge dick and it hurt and im pretty sure the whole thing did not fit lmao

i feel like a lot of virgins dont understand this but (and this also depends on the guy's penis size) penises dont often go all the way in when you're having sex for the first time!! and it takes a while for your punani to stretch comfortably and "take" d*ck. ALWAYS USE LUBE, the more lubricated you are down there, the easier it will be to take him in. your partner should be understanding and considerate of the fact that penetration is a physically painful experience initially and they should do whatever they can to make it less so.

that said, penetration SHOULD NOT HURT after the first few times, it SHOULD feel good. you dont have to be waxed bare down there or anything, obviously its nice to be groomed but its okay to have a little hair (or a full bush, thats up to you but i feel like first impressions matter so i like to keep it trimmed hehe, ik a lot of feminists are going to be like 😠😠no i wont shave for a man😠😠 but honestly he's shaving his balls for me and id feel a bit awkward if he was veryyy hairy down there so i get it and dont mind grooming in return<33)

sex should be enjoyable for both parties??? and remember real life is not porn!! he's not going to last for 6 hours and neither do you want him to because being pounded into for more than like 10 mins is annoying tbh and you'd just wish he'd come asap ,,, remember that sex is like physical exercise so u get tired after a while,, the whole "fuck all night" stuff is rare and mostly happens in movies lmao,, as long as you have time with them, you can go multiple rounds but feeling tired is real asf

ALWAYS USE PROTECTION, they might try to pull the "my dick is too big for these local condoms/it doesnt feel good with condoms" etc excuses BUT TRUST ME THOSE ARE LIES,, just USE PROTECTION

in india, we have something called an "i-pill" (morning after pill for non desis) and its less than 100 bucks at the medical store. no one will ask you anything for getting it, they usually dont care so dont hesitate!!! its better if the guy can get it for you and if your guy wont even buy you an i-pill then should you even be having sex with him????

there are side effects to taking the i-pill, your period may be late/have heavy flow/irregular bleeding, or you can experience nausea/dizziness etc after taking it. thankfully i have no symptoms and it feels normal ish but exercise CAUTION!!!

put a pillow under your back when you have sex, it helps make it hurt less!! bc your back is supported.

always clean up after you have sex!! go take a shower, gargle your mouth, make sure you dont have any of his cum near your kitty because semen will find its way inside you in mysterious ways 💀💀

STAY SAFE, HAVE FUN <333

AYYYYY 😭😭😭idk about husband stuff yet but I do hope my future husband is just as attentive, caring, considerate, loving, warm and kind as him

but u are soooo sweet MWAH MWAH

love,

Heaven