#it’s coming up to 3 months since i experienced personal loss and it honestly feels like ive been living in a brain fog like i know the time

[carebearcody]

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[the-family-we-choose-118]

Why I Think Albert Doesn't Die in 4B: A Meta Post

Maybe this is me reaching or some really wishful thinking, but i don't think albert is the one who dies, though i think he does get seriously injured (explanation below the cut so hear me out lol)

Based on scenes from 3b, 4a, the 4b promos, and some interviews done after 4x08 about 4x09.

In multiple interviews (one example below ⬇), Tim has stressed that there is going to be a divide between Bobby and Athena because he feels that she's too independent and won't let him in when she has issues. 4b is being set up to build off of last season's attack at the storage unit. Athena has made peace with the attack, so it will take something (encountering the attacker, being trapped while looking for a suspect, a storage unit, or experiencing other trauma) to act as the catalyst to trigger her into needing Bobby's help but refusing to ask. Albert dying will in no way drive or affect this plot line and will only really heavily affect Chimney, Maddie, and Buck and maybe Chris and Eddie.

Tim did a different interview where he said that multiple characters will be in life or death situations ⬇

As far as we know from the promo Hen, Buck, Bobby, Athena, May, Eddie, and Chimney are working the crash and Maddie is shown at work going into labor or having false contractions. None are likely contenders for a life or death situation, which leaves the side characters. Since this involves a massive pile-up, and we already know that Albert is in one car, that leaves three others.

The scenario I see best playing out in term of writing and setting up 4b and going into season 5 is this:

Albert gets horribly injured in the crash and has a long recovery. (This plays into 4a when Taylor said Buck was selfish and has no real friends because he doesn't know how to treat a friend.) If Albert gets injured and has a long recovery, he has 2 options for care. He either moves back in with Madney (but they have their hands full with the baby) or he stays with Buck, who has had to recover from a serious injury before. By staying with Buck, he learns how to really care for a friend unselfishly (tho we're gonna ignore the Buddie friendship for a minute bc the writers did). This also gives them the opportunity to set Albert and Buck up in a friendship so Buck can have friends outside the 118.

OR Albert goes into a coma because the writers are playing with a lot of characters right now and I don't think they know what to do with Albert and how to give him enough screen time for anything meaningful to happen. This way, they can revisit his arc in the future. Also, imagine Chimney and Maddie getting ready to take their daughter home and stopping by Albert's room to introduce their baby to her Uncle Albert 😭 Putting Albert in a coma or giving him a long recovery time is something that could be revisited at the end of the season easily.

I think the 3 others in jeopardy are in one car and I think it is Michael, David, and Harry after going to dinner one night or something and I think they are at the center of the crash.

I think the person who dies is Michael or David, mainly because of this interview ⬇

First, they've brought in David, but like Albert's storyline, they can't fit him in enough for it to really be meaningful. We see them meet towards the end of season 3 and by season 4 they have quarantined together (even though David is on the front lines) and are now living together. Most of their story occurs off screen. The only reason we even saw Michael and David in most of 4a was because it was a storyline attached to Athena and Bobby. Killing off David is less characters to deal with and would affect Bobby and Athena, but not to a degree I would see it driving a wedge in their own relationship. It would affect Michael and encourage him to complete his bucket list he referenced in 4a but it wouldn't have an impact on the whole 118.

Both Bobby and Athena are really close with Michael, though I'm gonna focus on Bobby for a minute. If Michael dies suddenly, that "lighthearted and hilarious" relationship "quickly turns on a dime" and suddenly it "ends up being quite emotional" because Bobby is dealing with losing a friend. This could also dredge up those feelings of having lost his family in a fire and not being able to save them because Michael is now part of Bobby's family. Later in the season, it would be easy to revisit if Harry is mad that his step dad and dad's boyfriend weren't able to save his dad. Bobby would be dealing with his feelings of losing a friend while trying to help Athena (who doesn't want help) deal with the loss of her ex husband.

Shifting the focus to Athena, Michael dying would absolutely devastate Athena. They were married for nearly 2 decades and he is still a close friend and confidante. Losing her ex husband at the site of a crash she responded to would be traumatic. And if you compound that with her unresolved trauma from the attack, now you've got Athena trying to deal with everything on her own and not asking for help. Now Bobby gets mad/sad/distanced because Athena won't ask for help and he needs his own support from her. And maybe she is giving that support but she won't let him reciprocate it and now you have a recipe for anger and unresolved grief that begins to drive them apart.

Focusing on May for a moment, she became an operator because she wanted to make sure Athena was never alone in the field. Though I can't imagine her taking the call for Michael because he is on the line when Albert is injured, her dad dying in a crash she responded to would likely drive her out of the field and into college or another path (1 less character to have around to try to give screen time.)

Michael's death was also foreshadowed in 4a when Athena is concerned he gets the telescope and is spying on neighbors. He talks about having a bucket list that he never got to do because the pandemic forced him into isolation. He also talked about how his only concern during the cancer was preparing his kids for losing him.

Michael's plot is stagnant. He is happy and living with his boyfriend and son. He's cancer free. His whole plot is tied up in a nice bow where they could easily kill him off and the only loose threads to deal with on screen are his family members and friends grieving his loss. This would impact the 118 as a whole.

Honestly, I thought they were going to kill off Michael when he first got cancer and he decided to stop treatments but they bad May talk to him and convince him to go through with the treatments.

Now, by killing off Michael, it is 2 less stories they have to tell, and it is less they'll have to include storylines for Harry as much as they were because he was linked to Michael's storyline. And if they have May decide to leave the field to pursue other dreams or complete her dad's bucket list for him, that is 4 less storylines where they can now focus on the Madney baby, Bathena's relationship, introducing friends for Buck (they mentioned brining back Taylor), focus on ending Eddie/Ana, and establishing Albert as a character (based on a quote from the above article, I think Albert's storyline is going to parallel Buck's 1.0 to 2.0 phase ➡ "If you think about how we ended season 2, Buck being smashed by the firetruck. We knew he was going to survive... I would expect something similar here.")

Referring back to that first article, where it says "Then look for a significant source of agitation for the entire 118."

At this point, Michael would have passed and Bobby and Athena are now having marital problems AKA mom and dad are fighting.

Hen would be stuck in the middle because she is good friends with both Bobby and Athena. She is also facing her own loss of Nia being returned to her birth mom and doesn't have time for their marital problems but still tries to help. She can also pull from her experiences from the season 1 cheating storyline to tell them to communicate or it'll ruin their relationship (yes i too hate that storyline but it would work here)

Buck would likely (nonverbally) side with Bobby, but he sees them both as parental figures, so he gets stuck in the middle like a middle child who is just going with the flow. This would also parallel the Buck Begins storyline where Buck feels caught in the middle after his parents face a loss.

Chimney is raising a baby and (if this theory is right) worrying about Albert in a coma or recovering from a massive injury. He has no time for their marital problems but still lets Bobby confide in him and gives advice (maybe this is just cause i wanna see the bobby/chim friendship we used to get in s1)

Eddie sides with Bobby but he thinks the whole argument is dumb. He can also offer advice to Bobby based on his own experience, but it's going to be something about communication, at which point Bobby will start ripping his hair out because why won't she just tell me her problems and let me help?

Lastly, when have we ever known the show to go ahead and give a major spoiler of the episode 2 weeks in advance? They let us speculate about Daniel for like 8 months and imo it wasn't as big of a deal as they made it out to be. It seems more likely to me that they offered the promo to get the viewers with a twist ending when the show comes back.

Feel free to share your thoughts if you made it this far lol

TL;DR Based on the interviews Tim has done, Albert dying would have little impact on the 118 as a whole, but Michael dying would offer exactly what they need to set up season 5 and finish 4b.

[secondpubertyscene]

8.14.21

This year has been one of major change. In Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower, there’s this quote, “God is Change. Beware: God exists to shape and be shaped,” and I think for the first time since reading it, I get what was being said. While I subscribe to the idea that there is a higher power of some kind, I also believe that we (as in, us as individuals) have great power as well. That power lies in our ability to change, to grow, to persevere. This year has been one of major change, and we really have to talk about it.

It is easy to look at this last year and think, “Well, that fucking sucked” because frankly, it did indeed fucking suck. I could write you a list of things that brought me great pain this year, unbelievable, undeniable, unrelenting pain that still lingers now. But, see, the beauty of it all is that none of that pain happens in a vacuum. Along with the pain, I’ve come through it all with more wisdom, more compassion, more empathy, more gratitude, more peace, more love, and more confidence. I’d like to share how those things all are connected, but first I would like to acknowledge something.

While I don’t know for sure if this is just an American thing, it does seem very clear that Americans aren’t fantastic at processing grief, death, and pain collectively. We often are encouraged to suck it up, to shut up about it, to not make others uncomfortable with our tears and trauma. I believe this is in large part due to the fact that American Exceptionalism doesn’t quite allow us to acknowledge when our systems have failed us or when we are suffering in the “greatest country in the world.” I don’t intend on participating in that toxic positivity or to dismiss the seriousness of the year past. I simply intend on acknowledging the nuances of my experiences, the complexity of it all. Now, let’s begin.

Without recounting every moment in large detail (in part because that would be far too much and also because I don’t need to relieve my traumas today), the events of the last year have been as follows: 1) COVID hit, 2) I had a severe emotional breakdown that resulted in a short stay at the hospital, 3) my grandma passed away, 4) I broke up with my partner of a year, 5) I was officially diagnosed with adult ADHD (inattentive), 6) I got into a PhD program for sociology (fully-funded), and 7) I moved to Ohio (two weeks ago now). So much happened in what feels like a blink of an eye. When you’re a kid, you think a year lasts forever. Now, a year feels like a couple months!

Anyhow, all of these things had super intense negative impacts on my life and most of them had super intense positive impacts on my life. Let’s talk about how. I won’t say that COVID had any “positive” impact on my life, because it’s still currently making things difficult and it is still destroying lives (full worlds) every day. The emotional breakdown that I experienced shortly after COVID began, however, was the impetus for some of the greatest change I would ever make in my life. It began with new therapy, medication for the first time ever to treat my mental illnesses, and a new relationship with boundaries.

Out of this breakdown, I came to realize a few things. 1) I wasn’t really feeling most of my life up until that point. That isn’t to say that I didn’t feel at all or that I wasn’t aware of my feelings all the time, but to say that most of the time, I numbed everything out that was too hard to bear. I didn’t cry, I didn’t write, I didn’t even take the time to try to identify exactly what emotions I did feel. I just lived through it and waited until I felt better. Or, I would breakdown with rage and then feel better. Therapy, especially the group therapy I participated in for a couple weeks after leaving the hospital, changed that in huge ways for me.

Because I was able to sit in my pain, in my discomfort, I was able to actually work through some of my issues. I began to identify the areas in my life that made me genuinely unhappy and began to grant myself permission to feel disappointment. I granted myself the permission to expect more, to want more. I granted myself the permission to set boundaries without guilt or shame. I granted myself freedom. It is an ongoing journey of mistakes and back-peddling and trying again, but it is mine and I am proud of it. Had I not had that breakdown, I don’t know that I would be where I am now.

My grandma dying is one of the most painful things I’ve experienced and honestly, I haven’t dealt with it all the way yet. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her in person, I still am battling the feelings of guilt despite knowing that there likely was nothing I could have done, and my chest still feels heavy thinking about her. Even as I write this, I feel that pain. I know she is not truly gone and that she lives within me, but oh, I do miss her physical presence. The nagging, the phone calls, the hugs, the cooking, her soft hair and beautiful hands. I miss her. Because of her, though, I have been able to rehabilitate another relationship in my life. The relationship I share with my mother.

My mother is a lot of things, but for whatever reason I continually forgot that she too is a victim of hardship brought on by nothing but sheer luck. In this last year, she lost her mother, the man that she loved, multiple cousins, friends that went back to childhood, and who knows who else. She suffered a lot this year and she has suffered a lot over the course of her 61 years of life overall. For the first time, I have been able to really acknowledge her as a full being with a complex history and understand her as a person, rather than just as a parent. I’ve set new boundaries with her as a result, boundaries that have completely change the dynamic of our relationship and will continue to do so as we both learn more about each other. Gone are the days where she relies solely on me for emotional support or financial support. Gone are the days where she feels comfortable talking down to me and then expecting any kind of favors from me. She understands and respects that I am an adult, that I am independent, and that I can terminate our relationship should it get to a point where I feel unsafe again. While this might sound like a threat or even negative, it is in fact quite the contrary.

We now share the belief that I deserve better from her and that my continued relationship with her is founded upon our mutual growth. That’s a beautiful thing that arose from us being pulled together by the loss of someone we both loved more than we maybe even loved ourselves. Thankfully, though, I have come to love myself more than anyone else on this planet. This newfound self-love and respect resulted in the severing of my relationship with my partner.

I won’t pretend like my ex was this horrible person because she wasn’t. She was kind, loving, intelligent, hilarious, unique, complex, and so many other amazing things. I still love her with all of my heart and have thought about her every single day since we broke up. It is not for lack of love that our relationship came to a close. The issue was that I needed more than what she could give. I needed someone who could really sit in my shit with me without invalidating my feelings jokingly because they didn’t know what else to say. I needed someone who could make me feel safe and secure, not fearful and insecure. I needed someone who understood boundaries as openings for futures, not closed doors. I needed someone who could show up for me the way I showed up for them, even when they hurt me, even when they lied out of fear. She wasn’t able to do that. She wasn’t able to stick beside me during the worst days of my life. She wasn’t able to see me beyond our relationship. When my grandma passed and our relationship was on the rocks, she made it about us. She didn’t stop pestering me about our relationship for long enough to give me support on losing someone who meant the world to me. I couldn’t trust her after that and I also realized, I wasn’t required to.

Boundaries in that relationship weren’t healthy. I felt unseen, unprotected, and sometimes even unloved. While I am sure that she has grown even more since we have parted, the reality is that when I ended things, I knew that doing so was the most fair thing I could do for the both of us. This is because I deserve someone who sees my value inherently. I deserve someone who takes the time to understand me, to love me, to see me. Not just see me and them together, but me as an individual separate from them. More importantly, I needed to be able to ask for those things without feeling guilty or bad. As of now, I still don’t know that she sees me as me, as a singular person, and maybe she never will. That is okay. I still love her anyway. I just love me more now. As a part of that love I’ve grown for myself, I also now have sought out more help for myself. This seeking of resources led me to realizing that I was ADHD and helped me change my life.

Being diagnosed with ADHD at 21 felt absolutely ridiculous. How could I be ADHD when I can sit still most of the time and have a pretty decent amount of impulse control? The answers came from my psychiatrist, breaking down the stereotypical understanding of ADHD and allowing me to find myself within the diagnosis. Finding the right combination of medication has been difficult, but what hasn’t been hard at all is finding more resources that help me manage my symptoms. It’s because of some of these resources that I am able to sit here and write this.

A huge part of ADHD is this perfectionist mentality that makes it nearly impossible to start or complete some tasks. Every time I sat down to write in the past, I told myself that I absolutely had to write every single day, once a day, or I should just not do it. When it came to this blog especially, I had so much shame when I failed to post for a long time or had a lull, that I would either consider deleting the whole thing to start over, or just never posting again. I realize now that those were just cop outs for my brain, that I can write as little or as much as I want because it is for ME. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it doesn’t have to be anything but what I need it to be. Waiting for perfection would have me waiting forever because it’s simply not how my brain works. Accepting that is a large part of how I got into my PhD program.

I’m not going to lie. I am still trying to figure out all of the feelings I have regarding this PhD program. I am shocked that I got in, shocked that I got full-funding, shocked that I am now in Ohio, shocked that I am in my own apartment, and overall shocked that I’ve made it this far in general. While I do not believe that I am stupid or not capable of greatness, I am realizing that I’ve always seen myself pursuing something more straightforward. When I was younger, I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted to do even as those things changed. I knew what was required of me, I knew what I would ultimately do, and I took refuge in that. Doctors go to medical school. Chefs go to culinary school. Forensic anthropologists get masters degrees and do field work. It felt clear cut, straightforward, safe. This is uncharted territory. What do you do post PhD? What do you do DURING PhD years? I suppose I’ll just have to find out!

Anyhow, this year has been intense. Change is always present in our lives and sometimes it brings with gifts that we can only receive when we’re healed enough to take them. I’m hoping to keep healing, keep growing, keep loving, and keep going. I’m learning so much about myself and about the world. I’m loving myself more than I have in the past. I am incredibly proud of where I am. And I’m not done yet.

[twopoppies]

hey gina! i wanted to ask you if you know any good deaf hl fics? or hl with any other disabilities? thanks xx

Hi love. That’s definitely a category where I’m lacking fics to recommend. But here are some fics that I think are wonderful where either Harry or Louis are disabled in some way 

Even on My Worst Days by @homosociallyyours (E, 22K) Soft, tender, warm and so well written. This author really captures the reality of chronic illness without ever making Harry seem helpless or a victim. Louis is just so loving and understanding in all of the best ways.

wake the morn and greet the dawn (with hearts entwined and free) by mixedfandomfics (T, 21K) I cried the first third of the way through this because this author painted such a beautiful picture of Harry’s emotions, his found family, and the setting. I love how they slowly unraveled Louis’ story and the tender, sweet way they ended up together. And Niall!! The best friend/brother you could ask for. Harry is an amputee in this one. 

you're writing lines about me by snazzyasalways (T, 4K) This is gorgeously written on that Dreamy, poetic style I happen to love. Louis is a blind poet, Harry is a baker, Harry falls in love with Louis’ words, then with him.

We’re What’s Right In This World by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite (E, 49K) This is one of my favorite authors – they do such a good job with pacing a story and writing compelling characters. This time they give us soldier Harry and blind Louis during WWII and everything that comes along with that time period and their circumstances. It’s heartbreaking, redemptive, beautifully written, and made me cry. A lot.

Seeing Blind by zedi (E, 47K) I really liked the way this author gave a twist to both Omega Harry and Alpha Louis’ characteristics. It’s a whole lot of smut and miscommunication and, of course, a happy ending.  

Quiet People Have The Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (M, 38K) Louis is mute in this one and it was really sweet and tender and a great twist on ABO dynamics. Plus, one of the few Alpha Harry characterizations I’ve enjoyed. 

This one, where Louis once again is mute, was recommended by @metal-eye whose taste in fic is usually in line with mine. So, even though I haven’t read it…

And I’ll Be Here When Only The Silence Remains by louisniall (E, 18K)

The one where Louis is a top notch mute violinist and Harry might just be the person he trusts most.

Because those are the only ones I know, I asked a deaf friend of mine to suggest her favorites. These are her recommendations and comments:

Honestly, I don’t know many. So many people write deaf characters into fics but they don’t really know what that means or try to take the time to understand that. This is my favorite though –– in it louis is experiencing hearing loss? It’s canon compliment and due to all the loud noises I think I remember? It’s been ages since I read it but he tries to hide it at first.

Let the Words Fall Out by pertunes (GA, 7K)

It’s not a thing, he decides. It’s not going to be a thing, because his ears have been ringing for months and so what if some days he feels like he’s straining to hear what even Niall’s jabbering on about.

And I think this is a good one. Harry’s deaf in it and Louis is in 1D

Two Hearts Drawn Together by ChelseaFrew (E, 46K)

Louis Tomlinson is 1/3 of a world-famous boy band. Harry Styles is a deaf university student. When they meet each other at a book signing, they experience an instant connection. They soon discover, however, that bridging the divide of their differences is easier said than done.

Jumble of Dots by Idzzdi (T, 9K) Ok so this first one features Blind Louis and is an absolute favorite because it doesn’t do what so many fics do and turn him into someone in need of saving due to his disability or someone that needs help with every little thing simply because he can’t see. He’s without one of his senses but he doesn’t let that deter him at all and he’s determined to live his life to the absolute fillies, much to the amazement (and horror) of everyone who loves him

Heart Eyes by Snowy38 (E, 10K) Featuring blind Harry bidding off his virginity in an online auction in order to make Louis jealous and to get him to finally make a move (hopefully!)

A Lack of Understanding by orphan_account (M, 3K) Harry has selective mutism but that’s never mattered to Louis. He’s never had a problem understanding him. (Just really short and sweet fic and does such a stellar job describing emotion and body language and other ways people communicate that aren’t always verbal it was fantastic)

You Came Just Like A Flower In My Darkest Hour by graceling_in_a_suit / @graceling-in-a-suit (T, 44K)

Harry had spent a thousand years as the king of a false kingdom, no one but his empty-minded subjects to distract him from his loneliness. Then, he saw a stranger in a mirror to another world. He was exquisite, this stranger; Harry wanted nothing more than to know him, if only he could be free from the spell that kept him trapped. But even once his wish had been granted (at the cost of his voice), and he’d gotten to live in the stranger’s world and in his house and in his heart, the spell would not be so easily broken.

It feels different when you’re with me by RearviewDreamer (M, 44K) This fic does a really good job describing Deaf Culture and sign language and having Louis transition from the hearing world to the Deaf world without him falling apart or not wanting to exist any longer and I think that was such an important thing that they did. And also, ALSO, Louis’ name sign??? I just loved Louis’ name sign because it’s the same name sign I use for him so I’m still flailing)

Infinity in Always by orphan_account (M, 23K)

A stranger greets Louis whenever he looks in a mirror—a stranger with sunken eyes, sharp cheekbones and hollow cheeks, whose strands of mousy hair tangle into intricate knots; curl into something akin to a broken halo.

Every morning he recites, speaks to no one but himself so he could try and remember that, “This is me. This is how I look like.” The simple act is done so often that it has become more like a ritual than a routine; and even then it’s only part of what he must do the second moonlight dies and day breathes again.

[bitchiha]

I just found your blog and your writing is super good! Could you do some headcanons for Sasuke falling in love with his best friend, who he's known pretty much all his life? Thank you :)

A/N: first off, thank you!! I did this head canon kinda in a time line type thing because it felt more.. ✨D R A M A T I C✨ that way, but it ended up really angsty and long.. we love a slow burn! anyways.. enjoy!

Also.. I needed to create a version of our wonderful y/n where they could relate to Sasukes pain. I don’t think he could have a best friend who didn’t experience that same feeling of losing people so close to you. Therefore, TW: death, parental death

LMAO AND BRUH I proofread this 20 times but I kept adding things so everytime I proofread I would have to re read again and it was a never ending cycle and I fininshed this at around 3 am so I can’t tell if it’s proofread well enough but I’m so tried please-

✎ Sasuke falling for his bestfriend

You’ve known Sasuke since he was young, before the the murder of his clan. You weren’t an Uchiha, but you met him through the academy. On your first day you were really nervous but also really excited because you had something to prove. You may have been the underdog in your very complicated family, but that stopped now. Both you and Sasuke could sense that same drive to prove your worth in eachother and so you instantly took a liking to one another. Through the passing weeks you two quickly became friends.

You lost your mom due to an illness and your dad was succumbing to the same disease as well. You weren’t the richest family, your mom left behind three kids; Yourself and your two older brothers. That’s quite a lot of mouths to feed. Thing is, one is in the Anbu and the other is a Chunin and they both don’t talk to you very much. Your dad being sick as well, he could not make you your meals or do your laundry. Those were all things you learned to do on your own. Your brothers ignored you for the most part and you could tell they thought of you as a nuisance, often having to clean up after your messes, but you believed that the day you would become a ninja is the day that would all change.

You remember telling Sasuke about that and he said he could relate to those things. The feeling of being the weaker kid, the one that fell behind sometimes. He experienced that himself too. This all just made you two a lot closer as the two of you knew you had someone to turn to when you felt like that.

After the murder of the Uchihas, he became very distant. Which you figured was natural, he needed some time alone. You remembered what you felt like when you lost your mom and so you gave him space. It took a while but a few months later he started to slowly join you for practice at the academy or sit by you at lunch time, but the second you tried to bring up his family and if he ever wanted to talk about it, he would shrug you off and completely shut the idea down, so you left it alone.

If ever he wanted company, to quell his loneliness - even if it was for a few brief moments, it seemed like you were always there to help. Even when he was in a sour mood and he would snap at you, you would give him this look, like you knew deep down knew that he didn’t mean it and he was just venting. That didn’t mean the words didn’t cut deep sometimes, in fact you’d cried in a few particularly nasty drawls he had. He would always end up apologizing, even if he didn’t say the exact three words, you could tell he was making a valiant effort to show you he cared about you.

And it felt nice. To have a friend like that, that could relieve some of your loneliness. You knew what it was like to be on your own at a very young age and so you offered him help in doing laundry and cooking and cleaning, until he started to figure it out more himself. You may never feel the pain that he has, but you had a glimpse of it before, and it comforted him to know that he wasn’t suffering alone.

The only person who could ever really crack a smile on his face was you, leading up to your graduation from the academy the two of you had grown to be closer than ever. It felt like you understood him. If he needed time alone you pulled back, if he wanted time with you, you would make the effort to make it happen. He didn’t want a clingy friendship and you respected that.

However, he did want to be on a squad with you. Once you both graduated from the academy both your goals seemed closer than before. You were going to be an amazing ninja, so amazing that your brothers would have no choice but to acknowledge you and Sasuke was going to be an avenger of his clan. You were going to help eachother grow to that point together. So it bummed you both out when you weren’t on the same squads. You felt a little jealous, knowing that he was with Sakura. She was a nice girl, for the most part, but you didn’t like how she always threw herself at Sasuke. You were the only girl in your squad and the boys you were with were pretty friendly, Sasuke didn’t like that either. You both never said anything about to eachother that of course.

After you would both train in your respective squads, you’d eat lunch together or walk around and talk about what transpired. He would always talk about Naruto, well complain more than talk, and it kind of made you feel sad. You could see right through him, Narutos felt his pain too. The two of them could try to deny it, but they admired eachother a lot. With all the missions you two had to go on, time with eachother became a very limited precious. Meanwhile, his bond with Naruto and Sakura became stronger. The same could be said for you and your team. You had actually grown to like one another and your skills complimented eachother perfectly.

So your hangouts kind of came to a stop for a while. He would hang out with his own team after missions and training and you would hang out with yours. Sometimes he would stop by your place and you would talk for a while, but then he’d be called off for a mission or dragged away by Naruto and Sakura. You were happy he was making friends and if that meant you didn’t have as much time with him, than that was okay. Afterall you weren��t completely alone anymore either.

It was when your dad finally succumbed to his disease that your ties to one another became almost completely severed. Your dad was the last family member that believed in you and spent time with you. You fed him and helped him more than any of your brothers and he was that last bit of encouragment in your life. That candle of hope in your heart began to flicker helplessly. It was holding onto the flame with weak and tired arms, there was only a bit of a glimmer of light left in your life.. and that light was your friend Sasuke.

Even if he was preoccupied with missions, when he heard the news that your dad passed away, he spent as much time as he could with you. Like him though, you tried to brush it off and would change the subject whenever he tried to get you to talk about it. You were bottling it all up just like he was and he was sad that he didn’t know how to help you. All he knew was that he had to be with you to help you get through this.

That didn’t really work though, the chunin exams began around the same time as your fathers passing. So once again you didn’t see Sasuke for long periods of time and honestly, you weren’t thinking about him. Your mind was still more than occupied with the loss of your father. Plus, your sensei didn’t nominate your squad for the Chunin exams and as much as you hated to admit it.. It had made you a little bitter to think that Sasuke would be taking that next step without you.

After the village was invaded by the Sound and Orochimaru, the two of you oddly enough became close again. It was strange that it was that event that brought you back together again. He filled you in with everything that was happening to him. He showed you the curse mark, (he didn’t even hesitate to show you.) Almost like he was asking for your help, but you didn’t know what you could do.. the mark worried you a lot. And this Orochimaru... you had never heard that name before, but little did you know how his name would be burnt into your mind later on.

You weren’t there when Sasuke left the village to join Orochimaru. That’s probably what made it so easy for him to go. If you had been there and asked him to stay instead of Sakura, he would have thought twice. But no, your squad was sent away on a really important mission at that time, it was a chance to prove yourself after missing out on missions due to the loss of your father. When you got back and heard the news from Sakura - a girl who you remembered was obsessed with him - you didn’t believe it at first. It took the Hokage to actually convince you.

Why would he leave? Weren’t you on a path together?

But when you got back to your own apartment — you had moved away from your brothers with the money you got from missions — there was a letter on your bed, it was from Sasuke. He had written to you about how he was still an avenger and would never manage to be one if he stayed here. You kept re reading his last sentence over and over again.

Don’t come looking for me, it’s no use, I won’t come back. This is the path I’ve chosen. It’s the path I need to take.

It basically felt like your heart was ripped out and that last flicker of light in your life went out. You tore up the letter and then cried with regret as you tried to put it back together. You were angry, but there was no way you were going to let him do this to himself. Damn the path he’s chosen, you won’t let him take it.

So from then on, you insisted to the hokage that you were sent in missions involving Orochimaru or retrieving Sasuke. That’s what lead you to a new team: Sai, Sakura and Naruto with Yamato as the captain. It also lead you right into Orochimarus hideout.

Originally you were just supposed to investigate a tip from Sasori about a spy working to gain information on Orochimaru, but that mission lead to a whole bigger thing, Orochimarus hideout.

Your team found Sasuke, only to have him try and kill Naruto and probably the rest of you if he had the chance. You tried to convince him to come back, but he wouldn’t have it, in fact, when you spoke it felt like it angered him even more. It made you want grab him and shake some sense into him. 3 years had gone by and he still didn’t want to come back, he wanted to be orochimarus vessel...

He was really harsh towards Naruto, but also towards you. He had snapped his attention to you when you had come running into the crater he had created. He would be lying if he said his breath didn’t hitch at the sight of you, but he hid his feelings well.

“Tch... Y/n, so this is how you’ve been spending your time.. After all these years?Trying to bring me back.. I guess your brothers were right about you, you really are pathetic.”

But then you hit him with that look, the one you used to give him when he would get harsh with you as kids, the one that knew he didn’t mean it and he suddenly had the urge to look away in shame. He was angered that he didn’t the reaction he wanted out of you, he wanted hurt you and push you away, but you refused to give into him. You’re born so stubborn. That was why you had always been such good friends.

When Orochimaru interfered and they escaped, the last thing he heard was you, “wake up, Sasuke. You’re not meant to be with these people and you know it.” He couldn’t tell if your voice was disappointed, hurt, disgusted or whatever it may be, but he didn’t like it.

Anyways, once they were gone he couldn’t stop thinking about you. So you were still thinking about him? After all this time... You even got yourself involved with Naruto and Sakura. He didn’t like that he cared about the fact that you didn’t forget about him. Truth is, he needed to forget about you. That’s if he was going to avenge his clan. You weren’t apart of his path anymore, you couldn’t be apart of his path anymore.

It’s not like he had stopped thinking about you for the past three years, in fact, you were frequently on his mind. He had managed to suppress it though, it only took him a good two years. The past year he had begun to flush away you and his old teammates. All that work was useless now because he had just seen you again in real life and you were grown up now, that made everything so much harder. What were you doing that very moment? Sleeping? Out with your team? Thinking of him? He wanted to rage everytime he let his mind wander like that.

After that encounter, the first one you two have had in three years, your face was burned into dreams and waking thoughts. You really grew up. You weren’t just some little kid with a dream anymore, you had started on your own path too. He noticed you were taller and you weren’t too awkward in your body like you used to be, with legs a little to long and feet a little too small. Despite those little quirks, he always had an attraction to you, but now there was more of a deeper feeling, a stronger admiration than before... and boy did it pissed him off.

He had been pushing those feelings away from him ever since the death of his clan. It was easier to do it when you were both still awkward little kids. But now that you were taller, you actually started caring for the way you looked and you were wearing more fitted clothes.... stop. You were more than determined too, your drive was strong and it felt like you were not only stronger physically now but also stronger emotionally.

It took him a while to actually accept it, but it was true, he had fallen for you. He realized it when he was laying down in his room in one of Orochimarus hideouts. He had loved you all along and now more than ever, he realized he wanted a future with you, even though it seemed virtually impossible at this point. That didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to fight for it. He felt like he was back at the academy again and all the feelings he had been trying to push away came crashing down on him at once. It was a few days before he was supposed to become Orochimarus vessel, and he knew then, if he became that vessel, he would never have that chance to be with you. To have a life with you. No matter how much he tried to suppress it and fight it, he couldn’t run from his feelings. You had been there for him through everything and you were still fighting for him now, even after all that he’s done.

So there, Alone in that dark room, He decided that he would not give himself up for Orochimaru, not while you were srstill cared for him.

So I decided to end it here on a cliff hanger bc I’m not about to write all of shonen Jump and shippuden into a head canon even though my brain wants me too... I will do a part 2 down the line all the way up to the end of shippuden if y'all want tho bc I thrive off that demanding shit and thats on period 

[kirstinmaldonado]

CHAPTER EIGHT 2.0

>>Delayed post because birthday week had all the friend surprises and snuggles and I got a bit distracted but…still wanted to post<<

It’s my birthdayyyy week~! My biiiiiiirthday week!

The dreaded time has come? The anticipated event is here? Honestly 28 felt so far away for quite some time, I’m kinda in denial that one, it’s May already and two, I’m going to be 28 this Saturday!!

So far I’ve been filling the week with cuddles, some friends and family calls, and oooo another BESTIE PRODUCTIONS vid?!? We had planned on releasing earlier, but why the rush? Why take the joy out of creating for fun by setting deadlines that don’t really matter? 

Anyway, we hope you love it! It’s always important to unite and spread some relatable cheer especially in such a divisive climate! More on that coming…I don’t mean to do it but…soon. Lots of moving parts and our lives are picking up in different and amazing ways but we still hope to get it out!

Phew. No hashtags here! ;)

So many events happened over the last few days, good and bad! Some even that I am disappointed in, ashamed of, or at a loss for. But! This week is all about self-care! I’ll save the heavy for another time. ;)

Self-care, in its many facets, is so important! Self-care is making healthy food choices to nurture your body so it can be at optimal output. Self-care is strengthening and nourishing your mind by learning something new, doing a hobby you love, meditating, or just purely relaxing. It’s having the awareness to say no when you don’t want to do something or you know the adverse is better for you. Really, self-care is ALL ABOUT YOU!

Biggest of all, self-care is NOT selfish! Everyone needs to be self-aware and know when to take some personal time. Everyone decompresses in different ways. Sometimes that’s choosing an introverted quiet night as opposed to an extroverted one, or splurging on something to make you feel special, or baking way too many cupcakes and eating also way too many (if you’re me, ha)!!

With all the rushing around and intensity we’ve trained our minds and bodies to endure, with all the added stress of not even wanting, but NEEDING to succeed and flourish, that self-care dwindles. Sometimes it feels like you have to put YOU aside because everything else is so overwhelming!

I remember in the past thinking that skin-care took such a loooong time and felt not worth it. My skin (thank you, Mother) was pretty damn flawless for how (wrongly) I’d been taking care of it, so why bother?

That was before I met my sweet Klara!! And while my skin wasn’t in desperate emergency levels of fixing, she reminded me that pre-meditative care is crucial and so is slowing down and taking the time for myself! 

Klara and I met years ago when I was in NYC looking for a lash lift. Pentatonix had just started taking off and just recently Klara had opened her own med-spa in the city. We bonded instantly and have been friends ever since!! 

Meanwhile, if you live in NYC and want the best lash lift ever, ya gotta go to Klara, HANDS DOWN! 

Every time Pentatonix would be in NYC, I would go visit her. Even if I didn’t need anything done or didn’t have the time, I would stop in and say hello because that is the type of beautiful energy she is! And slowly, we began growing together!

I love my friendship with her because not only did she love on my eyelashes, skin, face, etc and teach me how to do the same at home, but she’s been there through the last six or so years of my life! I have transformed into a much more self-aware, happier, and self-comfortable person and I treasure her sincerity, compassion, and late night chats so so much!!

Although I don’t get to see Klara all the time as she is based in NYC, I always have other forms of self-care in a similar vein. As we all know, Covid has shut down pretty much all forms of outside self-care treatments, although someone should tell the people in charge that self-care is essential, eh?!

I kid. Jokes aside, I miss relaxing my body and mind to a caregiver. I miss getting my hair done, getting a mani-pedi, tanning, and getting a massage! I miss that “treat yo self” feeling, and drinking champagne while doing them all, ha!

So, for my birthday week, I wanted to share with you a fun DIY self-care facial curated by Klara herself! My chin has been OUT OF CONTROL and colonizing a little zit farm, so freshening up before my big day (inside lol) felt perfect!!

Since she initially sent me this, she has curated a NEW personalized facial package that she will guide you through on Zoom, but regardless she is an angel for all your skin questions and needs!

>>By the way now that this is posted a week later…my skin has NO JOKE been FLAWLESS! Klara is still a queen for the win but also loving on your face and listening to what it needs also FTW<<

So here I am au natural, pre-peel!! 

ONE. PREPARE YOUR STATION! PUT NICE MUSIC ON, A CANDLE, WHATEVER YOU LIKE TO PROMOTE A RELAXING VIBE! HAVE A CLEAN COUNTER WHERE YOU CAN PLACE THE DENTAL BIB AND LAY EVERYTHING OUT! 

TWO. WASH YOUR HANDS! ;) 

THREE. USE JAR #1 WITH FIRST CLEANSER, ADD WATER, FOAM, BE PRECISE AROUND JAW AND EARS ETC, RINSE, PAT DRY.

FOUR. REPEAT THE SAME WITH JAR WITH CLEANSER #2 (THE CREAM, IT WILL NOT FOAM) RINSE AND DRY

>>Already my face is feeling much softer!<<

FIVE. POUR THE MINI CHEMICAL PEEL (VIAL #3) ONTO COTTON PAD, WIPE WHOLE FACE GENTLY! I EXPERIENCED THE TINGLING AND EEE YES MY FACE GOT RED, BUT NOTHING MAJOR! LEAVE ON FOR 3/5 MIN!

SIX. USE JAR #4 (GLYCOLIC CLEANSER), RINSE AND DRY.

SEVEN. THEN APPLY SERUMS (JUST FEW DROPS) ALL OVER THE FACE

EIGHT. MASQUE FOR 10 MIN. 

NINE. MOISTURIZE!

HAPPY GIRL! I felt AMAZING, y’all!!

You can check out Klara’s ZOOM FACIAL PACKAGE here and on social media outlets! And I am NOT kidding, my skin was SO SOFT!!! I felt less bumpy, less exposed! And it’s stayed like that too! 

This little self-love moment put me in the perfect headspace for a birthday weekend, especially when that weekend was not according to plan! Life is about continuously adapting, taking what you have in front of you, and trying to make the best of the situations you are presented! You can only control so much! So why not focus on positivity?

I was so thankful for this little pick me up that made me feel good about being in my skin, something I’ve struggled on and off with the entire rest of quarantine! But overall I am SO thankful for how special my friends, my boyfriend, my family, YOU GUYS all made me feel! I didn’t feel devoid of any of your love and care. And thank you so much for that!!!

28 has started out so special in some (feeling) unspecial circumstances. I will always rise and fall and even have so far in these mere hours of 28! But I am so happy for your support. Just remember to always support yourself too! 

So on that note, I hope you find time before the month is done for some EXTRA self-care!!!

And happy 3 years to Break a Little <3

Love you all!

[justkindaoverhereobsessing]

the stars always make me laugh (1/4)

Now complete! Here is chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, and the epilogue.

A year to the day after Ziva departs D.C. to return to Paris and reunite with her family, her newfound contentment is shaken by an unexpected loss. Tony and Tali are right where they belong—safely by her side—but she still finds herself feeling drawn to reflect on the past. She might just be able to use this new grief to bring peace to old wounds, renewing hope along the way for a future with her family... but only if she can find a way to let go of what haunts her.

Written as a combined response to two different challenge prompts; also available for reading on ff and AO3. This is angsty but will ultimately be soft. 

_________________________

"And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure… And your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!'"

—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

_________________________

January 7th, 2021

It's a Thursday morning when Tony gets the call.

He's working from home today, and he's nearing the end of a video conference when his phone buzzes—he looks down to check it and sees his favorite unflattering photo of Tim McGee on the screen. Paris is six hours ahead of Washington, where McGee presumably still is, which makes it… hmm. It's four in the morning there. He's probably not reaching out for a casual chat, then.

Something tells him to take the call.

"Sorry to be rude," Tony says quickly in French, looking back at his computer screen, "but there's an emergency I have to deal with. Let's go ahead and wrap this up for today and we'll talk progress next week, same time as usual—Félix, go ahead and email me that report, if you can. I'll check in when I'm back at the office tomorrow. Have a good morning, all of you."

Then he abruptly ends the conference; he cares very little if he comes across as impolite, because his thoroughly French team has always seen him as a hopelessly crass American anyway.

Tony hits a button on his cell, catching the call just before it would have gone to voicemail. "Why, if it isn't Tim-Tim-Timothy McGee!" he cries, jovial as usual even though he's a little apprehensive about the nature of the unexpected conversation. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey, Tony." McGee sounds tired, which is little wonder given the time difference. "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Sure," Tony agrees, dropping the slightly mocking enthusiasm from his tone. "What's up?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to say it, okay?"

"...okay."

"There was an accident last night, and—"

"Who?" Tony can read between the lines—he doesn't have to hear the word "death" to understand that someone he knows has passed away.

"It was Ducky."

_________________________

Tony is on the phone with McGee for another fifteen minutes, getting all the details and committing them to memory as best as he can through his slight haze of shock. Though Ducky had always been the oldest member of their team and clearly couldn't live forever, he had seemed… invincible, somehow. He was an institution, something timeless and never-ending.

Of course, that had been an illusion, but still, it's strange to know that the vibrant old man is now just…

Gone.

The rest of the workday is spent processing all of this new information and making preparations. Tony can't imagine a world in which they wouldn't fly back to the States to attend the funeral, and though he hasn't yet talked to Ziva about it, he feels fairly comfortable arranging emergency bereavement leave from work and informing Tali's school that she'll be out next week.

Near the end of the call, McGee had asked if Tony wanted him to call Ziva, too, or if Tony wanted to tell her himself. Tony's answer was immediate: he knew without needing to stop and consider that telling Ziva in person would be the right thing to do.

It doesn't matter how much he hates having to give bad news.

Tony intends to do it tonight, once his wife is home from work… she has experienced too much loss in her life for him to be anything less than absolutely gentle in telling her about their old friend. There's no need to make it harder than it needs to be; an impersonal phone call across the Atlantic may have been an inevitability for Tony himself, but now that he knows, he wants to be there to hold Ziva's hand when she finds out, too.

He would give anything to spare her from as much pain as possible, and while he can't do much, he can do this.

Fortunately, the timing of McGee's call is decent—Tali has choir practice after school today, effectively speeding up the rest of the evening's schedule. By the time Ziva gets home, it'll nearly be dinner time, and bedtime will follow shortly after.

Tony doesn't want to delay giving Ziva the news, but he thinks it best to wait until Tali is safely tucked away. That way, they don't have to worry about putting on happy faces to keep from scaring her.

_________________________

As soon as Ziva walks in the door, she can tell that something is wrong. Tony looks tired or sad, or maybe both. He kisses her in greeting as usual, though, and when she gives him a questioning look, he answers with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Later, she understands that to mean.

Ziva is concerned, but she trusts him.

Still, Tony seems eager to rush through Tali's evening routine, telling Ziva her unsettled feeling isn't merely a product of her typical anxiety… she's right, and something has happened or is happening still.

If she was Gibbs, she'd claim a gut feeling.

"Tony, is everything alright?" Ziva asks in a low, tense voice once Tali's bedroom door is shut for the night.

Tony shakes his head. "Let's go sit," he answers softly.

He leads her to the couch and she sits next to him automatically, her heart starting to race in a horribly familiar way. "Please just tell me, whatever it is," she murmurs anxiously.

Tony takes her hand. "Alright." His voice is gentle. "Just don't forget to breathe, Ziva, okay? I got a call from McGee today, and he had some bad news. Ducky was in an accident last night… he passed away this morning."

Ziva's pulse is thudding in her ears, and she focuses on the grounding anchor of Tony's hand on hers as she tries to internalize what he just told her. "An accident?" she echoes, sounding distant even to herself.

"Yeah…" Tony shakes his head and unexpectedly gives a quiet, incredulous laugh. The sound pulls Ziva out of her head a little, and she makes a conscious effort to squeeze his hand back as she waits for details.

He gives her a warm smile, recognizing the gesture.

"Honestly, it was the 'Duckiest' way that he could have died, I think," Tony explains. "He had apparently been out in Newfoundland exploring some continental fault thing, and on the way back, his plane hit some bad weather and ended up crashing. Palmer says it was very quick—Ducky never would have felt a thing."

Ziva nods, slightly faint but quickly getting over her shock. With any luck, she'll avoid a full-blown anxiety attack; the frequency of the attacks has decreased since she reunited with her family a year ago, but they'll always be a threat that she has to be prepared for.

Tony seems to understand that she's not quite ready to talk yet, so he keeps going. "There are worse ways to go, for sure, and I think Ducky would have wanted to spend his last minutes just as he did: coming from from an adventure in a tiny two-seater Bonanza. You know what I mean?"

"Yes… yes, I am sure you are right," she agrees, her voice steadier.

"I'm really glad that we got to see him recently, too. We had a good time, didn't we?"

"We did." A few months back, Ducky'd had a daylong layover in Paris on a trip to a remote area of Siberia, and they'd spent a very fun day showing him around the city. Their daughter had warmed to him quickly, which was hardly surprising.

"Hopefully Tali was old enough that she'll remember it, I think."

"Yes."

Tony pauses, and with his free hand, he reaches up to briefly caress his wife's cheek. "Are you alright?" he questions, concerned. "You're not saying much. I don't want you to pass out on me."

"I am—" Ziva stops in the middle of her sentence and takes two deep breaths. She had nearly said 'fine,’ but she's not, is she?

Ziva likes to think that she can be open and honest with Tony these days, as much as a lifetime of trials has given her the impulse to keep things to herself. The fact that Tony waits patiently for her to finish rather than interrupting tells her that she's right—she shouldn't shut him out.

Finally coming to a decision, she shakes her head. "No."

Tony nods. "I thought that might be the case."

"Are you?"

"Alright?"

"Yes."

"No. No, I'm really not. But I will be."

Tony's words suddenly pull a memory to the forefront of Ziva's mind, and she tilts her head for a moment, considering something.

Tony waits, a slight frown furrowing his brow.

"Come," Ziva decides finally. "There is something that I want to show you."

_________________________

A few minutes later, a bemused Tony watches from the doorway as Ziva digs determinedly through a box in the back of their bedroom closet. He knows what's in that box, and he knows that several identical boxes stacked neatly in the corner contain more of the same: Ziva's old journals from NCIS, dozens of them thoughtfully shipped to Paris by Ellie Bishop.

"Are you looking for one in particular?"

"Yes," Ziva answers, but she doesn't explain any further. After a few more seconds, she makes a noise of triumph and rises with one of the journals in hand.

"Found it?"

"I did."

She leads him back to the bedroom and sits on the bed, inviting him to sit next to her; Tony is relieved to see that while she definitely looks pained and tired, there are no obvious signs of an impending anxiety attack.

Once they're settled, Ziva gently—almost lovingly—pats the cover of the thin book. "This is one of my journals from late 2009 until early 2010."

"That's—"

"Shortly after I was rescued from the desert, yes."

Tony nods; it's not his favorite time to think about, and he knows it can't be for Ziva, either—so why did she pull this notebook in particular from the dozens of identical ones chronicling her experiences?

"Ducky was… helpful to me, in the aftermath of my rescue."

"He was?" Tony interjects in surprise. "You've never talked about that before."

"It is not a subject that I deeply enjoy discussing, something I am sure you can understand."

"Sure."

"Well, because I believe that sharing this memory will honor Ducky, I would like to tell you more about what he did for me."

"Are you sure?"

Ziva nods, and she keeps the journal clutched lovingly in one hand as she reaches over to lay a hand on Tony's thigh. "It has been a long time, and I think I am ready." She offers a smile—it's small and watery, but it's very sincere, and something about it makes Tony's own eyes start to sting.

He's been too busy to cry today, but he knows it's coming sooner or later. Ducky had been family for a very long time, and with this on top of that loss...

"Okay," he agrees roughly, clearing his throat. "Take it away. I'm all ears."

Ziva squeezes his thigh and then pulls her hand away, glancing down at the journal; this one will always be one she cares for above its brethren, because its painful content reminds her of how much she has overcome.

After a pause, Ziva opens it carefully.

Then, her voice surprisingly steady, she starts to read.

_________________________

January 7th, 2010

There is a reason that I have not penned an entry in quite some time; I have walked a difficult road these past months. Today, however, I was offered a comfort that I had not previously possessed the courage to ask for. If I have any hope of sorting through my own thoughts on the matter, though, I need to reconsider earlier events.

Before returning to Mossad more than half a year ago, I was faced with a dilemma that I had successfully avoided in my career before that point—that is, the dilemma of who to trust and who to side with when personal and professional obligations become hopelessly conflicted. I have already written at length about the choices I and the others made in the midst of that conflict.

Much has happened since then, but recent forced introspection has shown me an important connection between the difficulties of Michael's death and the horrors I endured after: a connection between who I was then and who I am now. That night, it only took a few minutes to change the course of my life: in that time, Tony and Michael fought, and Michael was killed. Every single one of us has had to deal with the consequences of those events ever since.

At the time, I let my anger and my grief consume me, destroying all vestiges of rationality in my thoughts and decisions. I followed that pain to the Horn of Africa, hurting and reckless and prepared for death.

Of course, I did not die, and that has brought consequences of its own… consequences that I am only now beginning to come to terms with.

In the wake of Michael's death and doubly so in the wake of my experiences in the desert camp, I found myself vulnerable. For the first time in my life, I'd been forced to acknowledge my heart and acknowledge its fragility. It could be bruised. It could humiliate me. These were things that frightened me, because I knew from recent experience that they could—and likely would—be used against me. My fear led me to withdraw, to hide again; acknowledging my own weakness demanded far less bravery than I would have needed to share that vulnerability with my friends.

I defaulted to an old defense mechanism. I leaned on ability borne of long experience to simply feign contentment. I passed my psychological evaluations, I sent my resignation to Abba, and against all odds, I was instated as a probationary special agent at NCIS. After a time, my colleagues stopped watching me when they thought I could not see, waiting for me to fall apart. I had convinced them that I was alright; perhaps I even convinced myself some of the time, too. Maybe I was not yet as 'fine' as I seemed to be, but I was sure that in time, I would reach a point where my conscience felt as carefree as my forced smile looked to those who loved me.

Darkness, however, is difficult to chase away with one single flickering candle, lit only by the flame of my own exhausted determination. My candle burned low, worn down over time, and I found myself in need of help. I alone could not summon the light that had long since fled my tired soul.

Though I did not know to whom I should turn, fate helped a friend to find me. It was—of all people—Ducky. In many ways, he is something of a saba* to me, the kind that I wished for as a child. Even so, I would not have thought to seek him out as a confidant. I see now how remiss I was in taking him for granted as I have sometimes done. It turns out that he was just who I needed.

He found me this evening in the midst of… I do not know how to define what I was feeling. I can only say that I was lost in a moment of weakness. At the time, being seen that way was humiliating, but now, several hours later, it feels serendipitous.

Ducky and I spoke quite candidly then… I will not record the details of the conversation here, because I feel in no danger of forgetting what was said. I am confident, however, that today marks something of a new beginning for me. There is still so much to sort through and process, but the shadows already feel less dim.

Today, I invited a friend to see my darkness, and despite what he saw, he did not pity me; he only held my hand and lit another candle.

_________________________

*saba = "grandfather" in Hebrew

[moorethoughts8]

What I’ve learned from grief.

What I've learned about grief in the past year.

This past year was filled with loss and sadness. One of my hardest years I have gone through. Since turning 30, I have been trying to reflect on things and since grief was such a big part of this year I thought this might help. One night while I couldn't sleep I tried writing a few things down so bare with me as me as this is no more than a late night, scatter brain trying to get thoughts down on a page.

Here are a few things I learned about grief and loss this past year, in a nutshell.

1. How painful it actually is.

I know, its no secret loss isn't an easy thing to go through. It is of course hard but, until you go through it you are never prepared how strong the pain really is. The physical, emotional hurt, and emptiness you feel every day is like nothing I have experienced. And the fact that you can still feel it just as bad a year later is real. And it can sometimes be a daily struggle.

2. It's okay to cry a lot

I am usually not one to cry easily and especially in front of people. That changed this past year. I cried more than I probably ever had and I let it be okay. At one point it seemed like the only thing I could do. Tears would not stop coming. At first I really struggled with it but once I let it happen, I realized it was what my body needed to do. It would come and go and some days it was worse than others. It sounds obvious that you would cry over a loss but this was different. It would be long cries and random tears in front of others. So if you witnessed this, thank you for your love and understanding.

3. Relationships will change.

My husband and I were amazed at how some people dropped everything they had going on in their busy lives to be with us. The constant love from messages to home cooked meals was something we are so grateful for. At one point our kitchen table was covered in cards, flowers, gifts, and food. It was amazing. I remember looking at it, with tears in my eyes, and thinking how blessed we are to feel so loved. Some from people we had not heard from in a while or even would have expected! But unfortunately some relationships changed in the opposite way. Some people became distant and removed us completely from their lives. Talk about getting kicked when your already down. It was a confusing change and an added struggle for this people pleaser. Some relationships got stronger and some were lost, I learned it can be apart of grieving.

4. Everyone grieves differently and it doesn't look a certain way.

And that's totally normal and okay! I love looking back at old pictures remembering those times. I do it almost every day. It makes me cry but I found it was something I need to do. My husband is the opposite. He struggles seeing pictures or even saying our pups name. Everyone handles it differently. Sometimes you can see the grieving and sometimes it is done in private. Shortly after our loss someone said to me something along these lines, "You don't even look upset, how can you be smiling". This one hurt. Some days it was an accomplishment to just get out of bed. Smiling is something I never found hard to do until this loss. After this comment I felt horrible for it. But, what I have learned is the way you handle your grief is only for you and it will look different for others and on others. So once again, it's perfectly okay.

5. You're not crazy.

You are allowed to grieve, no matter the loss. And you can't let the opinions of others upset you. Yes, my dog died. And some people looked at me like "it's just a dog". Sure, it might have been to them. But to us, that dog was our baby. Our youngest child, the one who greeted us every single time we walked through any door. The dog who laid by my side every single night while sleeping, the dog who would give uncontrollable kisses when we needed them the most, or just to wake us up in the morning. Just the dog who had more love in him then some humans I know. A loss is a loss. And other's can't decide what kind of loss is big enough for you to grieve.

6. It can and will sneak up on you.

Like on a random Tuesday months later. Or in the middle of your work day. The smallest reminder can bring you to your knees and all the tears will be back. It can come out of no where and completely catch you off guard. Apparently this is very normal.

7. Always be thankful.

Yes we were going through a terrible time. I felt empty and like the world was ending. But sometimes you have to remind yourself it can always be worse. At the time I struggled with this because I wasn't sure how it could be. But, we still had a lot to be thankful for. We are so  blessed in life and it seems silly to even say but there is always sunshine after storms. Sometimes the storms last a little longer than you want but you still always need to be thankful for what you have.

8. Timing can be interesting.

Sometimes things happen for a reason. This was one of those things I will never understand what that reason was, but, this past year I have really tried to understand just that. We were going through a pandemic, another close loss, and our fridge broke earlier that week. We felt like it was one thing after another and we had no where to turn. A couple months passed and we still felt lost. We experienced another major loss and once again felt like we had no where to turn. We had been trying to find our "Church home" for some time now and after a few encouraging conversations with a few different friends we started to get serious about looking for it. After trying a few different places one finally clicked for us. It has seriously been one of the best things this past year. A true blessing. I honestly am not sure if we would have found our new home if we didn't go through such a difficult time.

8. Somehow, you can become strong.

Going through a difficult time can really put a different perspective on life. Not only was the world going through a pandemic but we were going through something personally really hard. We started to realize what was really important. I found that silly negative thoughts and feelings I was holding onto really didn't matter. I found it more easy to give others grace, and especially give myself grace. I tried to start focusing on things that were really important. I did a lot of self reflection and set some goals for myself. I started getting back into my workout routine. This not only helped me gain back physical strength I had lost but, I felt like it helped me mentally as well. In a strange way I felt like I started to become strong again.  

9. Learning how to deal with all the emotions is something I will continue to learn how to do.

Exactly that. I'm still learning how to deal with grief. It's something you are never prepared for. I'm still not sure what works best for me and that's okay. It's not something that goes away over night or after a specific amount of time. I miss my little guy, like a lot. I think of him every single day. He will always hold a very special place in our hearts.

[babycapell]

new york’s very own baby capell was spotted on broadway street , with a striking semblance to courtney eaton ! you may know them as @capellbabyy or hitting the front page of tmz as natasha fox, suspected con-artist infamously identified as baby, unanimously declared innocent on charges faced in california . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-fourth birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being heartless , but also ambitious . things that would paint a better picture of you would be a cluster of designer shopping bags, tan limbs tangled in silk sheets, a heart shaped sucker dangling between glossed lips. ( cisfemale + she/her  ) +  (  saxon , twenty-six , she/her , cst )

Out Of Character

Guess who’s back again? Honestly I don't know how this is going to go because this is a very new character and quite different from anything I’ve played but I’m incredibly excited to bring her to life! As always, we stay very open to connection ideas and plotting so please do not hesitate to hit me up because me and my child are here for the chaos and drama! <3

Basic Information

Full Name: Natasha Wren Campbell-Fox. Baby Capell.

Nickname(s): Nat. Baby.

Birthday: January 6th.

Orientation: Pansexual.

Language(s) Spoken: English, French, Mandarin Chinese, Spanish.

Background

TW: cancer.

At just eighteen years old, Lucia Campbell left New Zealand and moved to England in hopes of pursuing a career in ballet only to unexpectedly end up pregnant just months later, putting a pause on both her dreams and her future. 

Unfortunately, unbeknownst to her at the time of conception, the child’s father was a married member of the British Royal family - albeit fifteenth in line for the throne, the fact that he had stepped out on his wife and had a bastard child was scandal that could not be afforded.

Although the man tried repeatedly to coerce Lucia into getting an abortion, assuring it was what was best for both of them, Natasha Wren Campbell arrived in the world Jaunary sixth, nineteen-ninety six. 

In order to keep the situation under wraps, her father stopped by once a month to ‘check in’. For Natasha and her mother, these events felt less like visits with family and more like important interviews where their every move was under harsh scrutiny, the check he gave them at the end of his visit enough to make sure they were able to get by, money that assured that his secrets were kept safe. 

Every memory Natasha held of the woman who raised her was a beautiful one, a woman she considered so good and ethereal that it almost made sense that she didn’t get to stay in their world for too long.

When Natasha was just fourteen, her mother began experiencing fatigue and pain too serious to brush off, diagnosed within a week with stage four pancreatic cancer, the illness seemed to arise out of nowhere and progressed rapidly, leaving her unable to work and therefore unable to provide for them. 

Natasha waited desperately for her father’s next visit, asking for help with growing bills and the hopes of finding a better doctor but he refused, deeming such beyond his concern and leaving them with the same check he had in every visit prior. 

With no way to make money to care for her herself or her mother, Natasha turned to the only thing she could think of, thievery. What started as sneaking into restaurants and fancy events in order to steal food soon became grabbing expensive items left sitting on tables, selling them for cash that would keep the lights or the heat on even a month longer. 

Still, within eight months, her mother was gone and Natasha was alone - without a job or a place to go. 

The teenager adapted the only way she knew how, using the same tricks that she had before but this time in order to get into hotels. She used her father’s name and position in order to get their attention and if asked, used the pet name her mother had used for her when asked in order to avoid being caught, Baby. 

Soon, she realized that showing fearlessness and confidence could get her almost anything - whatever hotel she could manage soon became the most lavish she could find and just having a bed to lay in at night became enjoying the high class service and catering offered to her.

One night, while enjoying dinner in the hotel restaurant, she was approached by an arrogant teenage boy who was clearly eager to flaunt the wealth his parents held. Rage flooded her but instead of lashing out, her mind pulled her on a different route. She played into his every word until he was obsessed with her and then she used it, doe eyes and sweet voice pleading for what his money had to offer her for three whole months. His interest - or rather his family’s interest in finance and technology was his ultimate downfall, giving her every bit of information she needed to drain his bank account and disappear.

Natasha quickly became aware of just what kind of power she held and she planned on using it, starting with the man whom she deemed, in some way, responsible for the loss of her mother. 

The teenager arrived on her father’s doorstep and played every bit of the confused and mortified girl finding out that her father had a whole life that she and her mother had been unaware of. It was while his wife asked her to wait upstairs as they fought in the living room that she found his study, making quick work of getting every ounce of information she could in order to ruin him financially later. 

Unexpectedly, however, she found an account that was depositing the same amount that he had been paying out to her and her mother monthly. She followed the lead in hopes to meet her possible half-sibling and found a true family instead. A half-sister, Tali Fox (who reminded her greatly of her own mother) and her mother who all too happily took her in and adopted her as if she had always belonged.

Still, the world of lavish living and conning men whom she felt deserved it had piqued her interest in a way she couldn’t explain and she wasn’t ready to give up. She became a chameleon of sorts; spending nights going out to special venues, catching the eye of a rich male and playing the role of their dream girl - she’d use them for months, allowed them to shower her in precious gifts until she grew bored, draining their accounts and disappearing from their lives.

Six months ago she was arrested in California on multiple charges of larceny, fraud and forgery and had been awaiting a trial that finally began at the end of August and concluded just last week with a unanimous verdict of innocence, due to both a lack of evidence and witnesses. (aka; this little b*tch is good at what she does, no evidence and most dudes won’t even come out to say anything against her because they’re either still in love and/or don’t want to admit they got played by this angel face)

Now that she is out, she has arrived in New York to spend some quality time with her sister and perhaps, lay low for a while. 

Personality

Look, there’s no way to sugarcoat it, this girl is the sugar baby supreme okay? She wants your attention and your love and your money and that’s it. She doesn't feel nothing for you anyway, but she feels even less if you don’t adore her, dammit. 

She’s not a bad person, she’s really not - she pry donates all her clothes to the women’s shelter once she’s worn them even once and donates more than half of the money she steals to charity but like...she’s just very very angry and hurt and thinks all rich men deserve to suffer for being the type of man her father was which like - are you going to tell her she’s wrong? And she’s in too deep now, she just can’t stop. 

A true personality unknown though, tbh? She basically has been playing chameleon for so long, she doesn’t know who she is or how to be? Just adjusts to make you happy. Literally the fakest. 

Also she’s totally pansexual but like...way too focused on scamming men because they’re dumb and shit so like, definitely pry fucks around with females/nonbinaries from time to time but always finds herself going back to the hustle.

Desired Connections

A childhood friend who knew Natasha before the loss of her mother who hasn’t seen her since before that happened?

A childhood friend who’s known Natasha the whole time and maybe worries about her and her mental health?

The child of someone she conned? Honestly give me someone who’s dad Natasha hustled and they either hate her for it or just seriously respect her because they didn’t like him anyway? Or maybe even a sibling or an ex that she conned? 

For males? Past scams? Current scams? Future scams? Let this bitch play you, please. We can decide details as to how long or how serious it got, they could hate her or be secretly still obsessed/in love with her or both at once? Literally anything, okay! If you want someone to fuck up your guy in the past or future - this is your girl!

For females or nonbinaries? Give me someone who was maybe genuinely interested in her? Someone who wanted/tried to have a relationship and she was just like nah and it fucked them up a little bit maybe? Honestly maybe even a female/nonbinary she conned because even though she usually doesn’t, she thought they were an ass and deserved it?  

Someone who perhaps she actually started falling for a little, realized she wasn’t actually scamming them, that she was just chilling and she was like excuse??? And left without even scamming them? Or did just to prove to herself that she didn’t actually care about them? Kslflaks;sa I don’t know, she’s messy as hell, y’all.

[mollydollyjournals]

I still feel really sick...and my head is painful now too. And I'm sad. I'm always at least almost sad I guess. This time it's because I went back to watching It's Okay to Not Be Okay and 1) Seo Ye Ji is so beautiful and graceful and I've just watched the episode where she's wearing The Outfit that the internet went crazy for because her waist is about as big as my thigh and oh my god, 2) reminds me how little the world thinks of autistic people, and 3) support. And community. I want those.

Hb is here but not really. It's a lot like the little conversations you have with acquaintances - 'hi how are you' 'yeah not bad thanks and you' 'yeah good I've been digging up the garden blah blah bullshit.' It's more than that because we talk honestly about whether we've been ill, if we're unhappy, the bad stuff. But only slightly, because it's still surface level talking with no real feeling or connection. Every day he asks me 'how bad is it today' and I'll say something like 'I slept horribly. I have really bad anxiety. I feel sick, probably gonna stay in bed. Also my brother got in a fight with another patient in hospital and got moved to the intensive ward' And he'll say 'lol life. I'm tired bc med withdrawal, feel like I'm drowning. Quiet day. My dad is out of surgery. I fed the cats earlier.'

I don't know if he feels like I do about it. It's something I've only really been able to put into words just now as I write it. That although we're very open and honest with each other, there's no depth of feeling.

It's the complete opposite with bf. We're both quiet people, so we won't always talk much. But I feel like if I say some of the bad things above, I get a hug. A proper one. I get the comfort feeling of having someone next to me. I wonder if it's how we both want things to be or if it's just how we both are for other reasons. Is there some reason hb offers all the tangible support but none of the feeling? Does it just not translate to me?

I want to talk more to bf, but I need to feel more with hb. I find that I don't often have much to say to bf other than the odd comment here and there, or that I miss him. But then I don't have much to say to hb either, just that we live together and have to sort things out together. And he's a very talkative person as it is so he'll often talk to me unprompted even if I barely respond.

I still just need a hug. Some physical company. Even when I ask hb for some company, even when he actually obliges, he'll talk at me a bit, sit somewhere in the room with me and do his own thing, eventually give me a brief hug and leave. It's more than I was getting for a lot of last year, when I barely saw him at all for months. But I want to actually be next to someone.

I haven't even told bf exactly how little I've seen or spoken to hb this past year. I don't know how to put it. He's more experienced with polyamory than I am and I don't know how it'll look to him. On one hand, it's only the truth. I have a relationship that's so distant it's barely a relationship anymore, even though we live together. On the other hand, I don't want it to come off like I'm using him as my therapy and to fill the gaps in my "official/real" relationship.

I did tell him once when I was thinking about moving out not long ago. But I didn't say much on why. I guess to him it'll look like we had a really big fight due to lockdown stress but everything is otherwise fine. I guess it looks like I'm getting laid because after all I live with one of my partners. And that I have company and can talk and hang out. But I think he sees and hears more from his housemate than I do from my husband.

I keep thinking 'I just need to lose weight.' Then what? Stupid ED brain. Weight loss can't fix this. It can give me the confidence to take more photos and flirt more, and to go back to work. How do I know I'll even have any work or earn enough. If I did, I could really think more about leaving if I have to. But it's not going to fix it. Losing weight won't teach me how to hold or start a conversation better or make hb start acting with some genuine feeling.

So I want to drink. I don't know what that'll fix either. Just temporarily quell the panicking feeling that bf is sick of me and I'm disgusting. Then I'd just go back to feeling like this. It's only the end of day 2 alcohol free. I feel really sick and alcohol will just irritate my stomach. My head hurts. This episode of IOTNBO has someone not being able to sleep because of nightmares, and someone else just holding them to make them feel safe. I need that. I think it's contributing to my body dysmorphia. I feel like I'm expanding and I need someone to hold me together. I don't know if it's that I need a hug or I need to be smaller. Probably both and they just feed off each other.

It's nearly 6am. I'll see hb even less this next week because I've gone nocturnal. He has this same sleep disorder and will go nocturnal himself later, but probably once I'm back on normal time.

I just have my stupid cat lying next to me because he's afraid of the rain outside. And the hope for weight loss and maybe a message from bf tomorrow, maybe he can start a conversation where I can't. Again. A couple of hours ago I was 156.6. I haven't had anything since then. I guess I might be 154.6 tomorrow. That's only just about okay. I'd really rather be considerably less. I'm probably going to weigh myself again now, but I don't think I can take 2lbs off my weight now. I don't know.

I just want to feel okay. It's all well and good people saying it's okay to not be okay. I don't want to not be okay. I want to be safe and protected and wanted and loved. I don't want to be sick and in pain and tired and alone anymore

[dreamsofnude]

An Ode to a Past Love

This is the hardest thing I will ever write.

It started a little more than six years ago. I met you at a concert in Philadelphia. I didn’t think much of you then. You followed me around all day with those big blue eyes and I thought nothing of it. You annoyed me actually.

You were persistent, and I liked that about you. You annoyed me, but you had so many traits that I admired. You were easy to talk to. You were kind. You knew how to make me laugh. We shared similar interests and values. But of course, you were just a friend.

Your entire existence conflicted with what I wanted in life; with who I wanted in life. You were wild and had experienced so much in just 18 years. You didn’t want to settle. I was 19 and in my first year of college, and didn’t know what my future held. I had a very clear idea in my head of the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. You weren’t it.

You were always persistent. Despite how busy I was working and going to class, day after day we would text, talk on the phone, Facetime, send each other Tweets, and so on. There was never a time where we weren’t connected. I loved to hate that about us.

I turned 20 and decided I wanted an adventure. You were in bootcamp in North Chicago and I suggested that I would come visit. I had never traveled on my own. You agreed, and we made arrangements. Little did I know, that this would be the trip that ruined me forever.

I got on the plane, full of excitement and butterflies. I didn’t know why I was feeling them. I was just going to visit a friend; nothing major. We were going to meet downtown at Ogilvie Station. I got lost trying to find it. When I first saw you exit the train platform doors, we ran up toward one another and embraced each other with a force and closeness I had never felt — and that is when my life changed.

I didn’t know what was in store for us. I didn’t know that our first kiss was going to be on the top of the ferris wheel at Navy Pier that night. I didn’t know that we would spend the evening tangled in that hotel room bed. I didn’t know what was happening, and honestly, I didn’t care. I was happy. For once in my life, I felt happy.

I went back to Pennsylvania, and you went back to bootcamp. You got assigned to be in San Diego a month later. The distance between us just got larger, but I didn’t care. I wanted it to work.

You came back to Pennsylvania before they sent you to San Diego, and I promised I would drive 3 hours to see you. I will never forget that day. Unfortunately, it would be the last time I saw you for a few years.

We continuously found ourselves in a rigorous cat-and-mouse game for the years to follow. I would date someone; you would talk to me. You would date someone; I would talk to you. When it failed on both ends, we talked to one another. I didn’t mind it though, because we always found our way back to each other again.

I was in my last year of college. You called me one December night, drunk out of your mind. You confessed your love for me. You said “I want you from the beginning to the very end.” Though it didn’t make sense, I knew what you meant, and the cycle started all over again.

We decided to plan a visit after 3 years of not seeing each other. I flew to San Diego to spend 10 days with you in your apartment on the naval base. It was the new start with you I had craved for years.

We got a little drunk one night and got carried away. I found out two months later that I was pregnant. We agreed on an abortion. I want to say more about this but it’s hard for me to put it all into words. It still haunts me to this day.

I asked you if I could move to San Diego to be with you after I graduated college. I wanted us to finally be in the same place at the same time. You told me no. Later I found out it’s because you had a local girlfriend that you didn’t want me to know about.

At 23, I decided to move to Chicago after graduation and have a new start. I wanted to be with you but you still had a few years left in the Navy, and you didn’t want me to be in San Diego. I figured, Chicago was where we got our start, why not go there and make it our forever?

You told me you were afraid of me. You said you were afraid of how much I loved you, and how much you loved me. You said you were afraid of how intense and serious our connection was. You confessed to the secret local girlfriend that I had my suspicions about, but said you didn’t want to be with anyone else ever again. We finally made it official and started dating. I shouldn’t have forgiven you then, but I did. I should have hated you then, but I didn’t.

Things were rough because of the distance, but one thing was certain: the love we had for each other was on fire. We were wildly passionate about one another. We made several trips back and forth to see each other, but each time left us with wanting more. I have come to learn from this situation that sometimes just loving someone so much is not enough.

I always had my suspicions about your girl best friend. I knew in my gut she liked you, and that she always had. You denied these statements every time I made them.

You asked me in April if she could move in with you and your other roommate because there was an opening and her lease was up. I was not keen on the idea. I believe I said no several times because of how uncomfortable it made me feel. Truth be told, I didn’t trust her. I knew she would try something. Eventually I gave in, and said she could, but that there would be some ground rules in terms of what questions I could ask in order to ease my mind and reassure me with her being around. As I’m sure you recall, there wasn’t much reason for me to trust you either.

We broke up in May — two weeks after I resigned my lease for the apartment you were supposed to live in with me. I was now stuck by myself in a city that I hated. I hated the lifestyle. I hated the people. I hated the apartment that I once loved. I hated everything, but somehow I didn’t hate you.

We kept in touch, constantly actually. You still called and texted me every day. We still told each other about our days. We were both unprepared for what was to come.

My mental health started to decline rapidly. My therapist wanted to admit me to in-patient therapy, but I didn’t have the money. You sent it to me so that I could get the help I needed.

Time went on. I got a little better. I was released from the in-patient facility, and quickly started acting out. I was doing drugs and partying a lot, and you stuck to your reserved roots. We still talked every day. You were concerned, but just wanted me to have fun and feel free. I took advantage of that. I’m 25 years old and still sulking over my ex-boyfriend, so what better way to cope with the loss than with partying and drugs?

You came back to Pennsylvania for the holidays, and I promised I would drive 3 hours to see you, just like I had done years before. I will never forget that day. It was the first time I had seen you in person since we broke up.

We spent the day together in Harrisburg; we went to the bookstore and the coffee shop, walked around the city, and sat on the swings at the park. I asked you about a photo of you and your roommate that looked very couple-like that was on Instagram, and I said, “You know how this looks, right?” You denied and said that it was just because your other roommate didn’t want to be in the photo.

As the sun started to set and I knew I needed to make my journey back home, I felt so strongly in my gut that I didn’t want to leave you. I would rather die than be apart from you again.

I dropped you off at your cousin’s house. We didn’t even hug goodbye. We were both hesitant to leave but knew it’s what we had to do. I started to drive away, and not even 30 seconds down the street I started hysterically crying. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I called a friend to calm me down and he said “You need to tell him, Lydia!” — so I did.

I texted you and told you I was crying. I said how I regretted not hugging you goodbye. You replied almost instantly and said “I regret not kissing you, so there’s that.” I abruptly turned the car around and headed back toward you.

I picked you back up and you kissed me immediately. I hate to say it but my soul left my body with that kiss. I had craved it for so long. I had craved you for so long. We couldn’t stop so we drove to a clearing in the woods. You know the rest. You played Heavenly by Cigarettes After Sex as I drove you back to your cousin’s house.

I started on my 3 hour drive home that night, intoxicated from your kiss and the connection that we built once again. I didn’t know that would be the last time I saw you.

Time went on, and things were good. You said how you wished you could come home to me. We talked about visiting each other again, but you were unsure of the timing because you were trying to start a new job. We were desperate to make it work; well, at least I was.

You started to grow distant. I asked you about it several times. I asked you if there was someone else. You told me you just were afraid of hurting me again. You said there was no one else.

Valentine’s Day rolled around, which is a particularly hard time for me because that is the anniversary of the abortion I had for what would have been our child. The day was already off to a rough start. I had a disgusting gut feeling that something was going to happen that day, but I tried to brush it off.

I happened to look at your roommate’s Instagram story and saw a post of beautiful flowers on the table in your home, captioned “Thank you my love,” with you tagged on the image. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. My worst nightmare had come true.

I asked you about it, you initially denied and said how the two of you talked about needing more plants in the house so you thought buying her those flowers would be a nice gesture. On Valentine’s Day? You always thought I was a fool. I knew you were lying. Sparing the details, you eventually confessed to having been with her for quite some time.

I know that my actions were toxic as a response to trauma, and for that there is no excuse. However, my intentions were never evil or to hurt you. I was lost. I was hurting. I was dealing with the greatest loss I had ever experienced. I was fighting for my life, and my mental illnesses were winning.

I said I wanted to come to San Diego. In the heat of the moment, I did not express the intentions of that statement clearly. I really just wanted to come to talk to you in person and explain everything that I had done, face-to-face, so we could fix it. But, it was interpreted as a threat. Now, I sit here with a 3-year restraining order.

I left out so many details from our story as I find them to be sacred — for you and me only. I have done a lot of terrible things to you, as you have done a lot of terrible things to me. We can’t take back what has already happened. I just wish you wouldn’t have given up.

Time has gone on and I’ve grown so much as a person. I have learned to deal with my mental illnesses more proactively. I’m finally doing things that make me happy. I’m leaving this city I hate to move somewhere I actually want to be. I am living for me now, not for you. I hope you’ve changed for the better, too.

There are so many things that I would go back and relive if I could, as well as go back and change. Surprisingly, I wouldn’t turn you back into a stranger. But, I didn’t know that was our inevitable outcome.

The last time we spoke was March 14th. Don’t worry, I’m not counting or anything.

This is the hardest thing I will ever write. I hope you read it.

[fuckyeahalexedler]

Alex Edler experiencing deja-vu as last of a generation of Canucks

VANCOUVER -- There are the changes you see coming, and the changes you don’t.

With 14 years in the NHL, Alex Edler had learned not to be surprised. And then 2020 came along. And between the first and second waves of COVID-19, the Vancouver Canucks defenceman also saw three good friends leave the team in free agency over the span of 24 hours.

While the 34-year-old was theoretically aware of his senior standing on the team before Oct. 9, the free-agent departures of Jacob Markstrom, Troy Stecher and Chris Tanev, his longest-serving teammate, made Edler understand keenly that he is the last of a generation of Canucks.

With Tanev following Markstrom to Calgary, the second longest-serving Canuck is 25-year-old captain Bo Horvat, who arrived in Vancouver as a teenager in 2014. Edler has been on the team since 2006.

Think about that -- eight years of his career, and not a single teammate remaining.

“Sometimes you see it coming, sometimes you get a little surprised over it,” Edler said Wednesday in an interview from his Vancouver home. “Those three players, personally, they’ve all been very good friends of mine. I played with Tanny a long time on the same team (since 2011), playing a lot together. So it was hard to see him leave. Also with Troy, we’ve built a relationship off the ice as well as on the ice. And then, of course, Marky, I’ve been very close with since he came here, and he’s close with my family -- my kids and my wife.

“You lose an all-star goalie and you lose two key defencemen, obviously that’s a big blow and a big void to fill. That’s three players I was really sad to see leave, and three key guys for our team.

“We’ve added some good players, too, and that’s exciting. I understand there’s a lot of thinking and planning and everything and it’s harder times now and it’s not easy to build a team and make all the pieces fit with the salary cap. I get that part that you probably couldn’t fit all three of them. But I was a little bit surprised that all three of them are gone. But that’s the business.”

Vancouver general manager Jim Benning was unwilling to match the hefty offers the Calgary Flames made to Markstrom (six years and $36 million) and Tanev (four years, $18 million), while Stecher, made to wait in free agency while the Canucks worked on other deals, chose to sign in Detroit rather than return to his hometown team.

Countering these losses, Benning signed free-agent goalie Braden Holtby, then landed first-pairing defenceman Nate Schmidt in a bargain trade with Vegas. The Canucks plan to replace Stecher on the third defence pairing with a player promoted from the AHL.

So, the Canucks are getting younger still, which, of course, only makes Edler feel older.

“Before the twins (Daniel and Henrik Sedin) retired a couple of years ago, I never felt close to being one of the older guys on the team,” Edler said. “It’s been a big change over the last few years and we’re so much younger, and now I feel I am so much older than most guys. They joke me about it every day, too.”

They're not the only ones. The Vegas Golden Knights could be heard chirping Edler as "old man" during playoffs in the Edmonton bubble.

Not only is Edler the only player remaining from the Vancouver team that made it to the 2011 Stanley Cup Final, he hasn’t a teammate left who played for coach Alain Vigneault or even John Tortorella. Only six Canucks remain from the team current coach Travis Green inherited just three years ago.

A 2004 third-round draft pick plucked by Canucks scout Thomas Gradin out of a semi-professional league in northern Sweden, Edler made his NHL debut at age 20 on Nov. 4, 2006 in a road game against the Colorado Avalanche.

Edler played mostly with fellow Swede Mattias Ohlund that night, but the defencemen at the bottom of the Vancouver lineup were Rory Fitzpatrick and Luc Bourdon, who was killed in a 2008 motorcycle crash. The depth forwards included Jan Bulis, Tommi Santala and Josh Green. In goal, Dany Sabourin backed up Roberto Luongo, who was two months into his Canucks tenure.

“Honestly, I don’t have too many memories from that game,” Edler said. “But I remember being out there a couple of shifts against (Joe) Sakic, and that’s the only thing that kind of stuck with me.”

It was a fascinating time in Canucks history, as the improving team was transitioning from Marc Crawford to Vigneault. Veterans Trevor Linden, Markus Naslund and Brendan Morrison joined Ohlund as holdovers from the previous era, but the Canucks were being taken over by rising stars like the Sedins, Ryan Kesler and Kevin Bieksa.

“When you name all those great players, I feel like maybe we should have been better,” Edler said. “But when you’re young, you just kind of play and don’t think about it too much.”

In all, Edler has skated with 202 teammates in Vancouver, played in front of 16 goalies.

Pop quiz. Among the 65 defencemen, does he remember Lee Sweatt (three games in 2010-11)?

Edler: “He scored and then he retired.”

True. With an economics degree, Sweatt scored the game-winner in his debut but quit hockey for business that summer.

How about Alex Sulzer (12 games in 2011-12)?

Edler: “Yep, I do. German guy. I remember that we played in Tampa, we won a faceoff and he gave it to me and we scored.”

Derek Joslin (two games in 2012-13)?

Edler: “No.”

We admit we couldn’t remember Joslin, either, but the former San Jose Shark and Carolina Hurricane got two games at the end of Vigneault’s final season before taking his career to Europe, where he still plays in Austria for Salzburg.

Edler has logged another 872 regular-season games for the Canucks since his debut, plus 82 in the playoffs, 17 of those last summer.

He is Vancouver’s all-time leader among defencemen in games, goals (99), assists (302) and points (401). Edler remains a top-four blue-liner, last season logging 33 points in 59 games before leading the Canucks with 23 minutes of average ice time in the Stanley Cup tournament that saw Vancouver win two rounds -- the franchise's first playoff success since 2011.

“I think the team really came together in the playoffs and we showed people and ourselves, too, how good we can be,” he said. “It was a good, little playoff run. But I also think when you have a season like that or a run like that, you have to push even harder the next year because you can’t expect to take another step from momentum. You’ve really got to work hard to take the next step.”

Edler said the NHL is faster and younger than it has ever been, but he has a similar sense that this Canucks team is rising towards something, just like the one he started with 14 years ago.

“I’m definitely proud of what I’ve accomplished and what I’ve done, that I’ve been able to stay with the same organization and be an important player, an important part, of the team every year,” Edler said. “But you still want more. I still want more. I think that’s what drives everyone, maybe especially when you get older and realize you don’t have that much left. You want to be in the playoffs again, want to play those big games. I’m proud of what I’ve done so far, but I don’t feel like I’m satisfied yet.”

(Dec. 3, 2020)

[kateemmerson]

#LocationFree - How are global nomads coping with their wanderlust lifestyle?

No one has been left unscathed, have we? We have all had to adjust, re-jig, process life, handle loss, and take stock …every single one of us? Same storm, different ship, right?

Amidst all the “stuff” going on globally, I recently listened to my heart and launched my 5th book, titled “10 Lessons for Living #LocationFree.” Originally planning to launch it much earlier, I waited until the time felt right and until I had the right energy to tackle it. I honestly feel that now, more than ever, we need to keep our dreams, ideals and possibilities ALIVE and top of mind.

Even if we are a bit stuck now, our thinking and feeling do NOT have to be stuck.

In the process of writing this book, I wanted to offer readers some varied perspectives and thus set about interviewing 16 awesome folks to get their views on living this lifestyle. When the book was released just 2 weeks ago, I really wanted to check back in and get their updates on living “LocationFree.” We are all between 40 and 60 years old, living our own version of this lifestyle all around the world. Essentially I wanted to see how the year had shaped up for them since our initial interview –  to see if they were more hellbent on continuing this vagabond lifestyle, to understand if something fundamental had shifted for them, or if perhaps world events have made them reconsider lifestyle choices related to all things #LocationFree?

#LocationFree is my preferred term, but it is often referred to as Global Nomad, Digital Nomad, Location Independent, Portable Pro, etc. The name is less important than what we live day-to-day.

I wanted to update myself, too. I have honestly had a profoundly ‘interesting’ year. I’m definitely NOT saying it was easy and straightforward, but that I dug deep and found ways to try and accept and lean into what was going on rather than resist it all. The latter option felt futile and counter-productive in every form. I contracted and tested positive for the covid lurgy back in March 2020 after hurriedly exit-ing South Africa. I was out there to launch my 4th book, “Write your Book in 100 Days,” with my business partner. We had multiple book launches and events, live interviews from some major PR rolling out. It was our chance to inspire and reconnect with all the wonderful South African writers in our community. Plus, all my annual medical appointments were booked for what might have been my last regular visit to South Africa.

As I tuned in and reacted to what was unfolding, I knew I needed to get on a plane fast, to the UK. I was due to travel via Dubai to visit a friend stationed there but decided to hotfoot it directly to the UK, just a couple of days before lockdown kicked in. After all, South Africa was officially no longer any form of “base” for me after the break up with my partner, so I didn’t fancy getting “stuck” there.

I knew I wanted to get to my mum in time for the first proposed lockdown so she wouldn’t be on her own. Well, for sanity, company, and a bit of TLC more than needing to “look after” her – she’s a super strong woman! But before being able to get to her, after testing positive for covid (I only ever experienced mild symptoms, thank goodness), I had to isolate myself for a month before it was deemed safe for me to stay with mum in her presidential home. We then ‘enjoyed’ three months of strict lockdown together. Lucky we had too much TV, laughter, wine, great food, daily walks, and I also celebrated my birthday with her. Zoom Style with friends around the world.

One of the hardest business challenges was letting go of our international Writing Retreats that were booked. It often takes folk at least a  year to decide, book, and pay for one of our retreats. Writers from all over the world were joining Sarah and me in Greece, Italy, and Spain for a total of four retreats and residencies. We had to face cancellations, field the uncertainty with massive deposits we had paid across to secure hotels, and handle the non-refundable deposit challenge. We initially postponed and shuffled dates later in 2020 in the eternal hope that we could still host them later in the year, and had clients ready to hop on planes… and then finally releasing them all in favour of 2021 dates. We “lost” some clients who couldn’t move to the new dates, and have not yet been able to start filling those spaces for 2021. That was my main income revenue down the sink. I know the entire world understands all the drastic financial challenges of the year and I am not alone in that. 

The moment it was “safe” enough to travel, and the world eased open a bit in the UK, I travelled to a wee Scottish island, Iona, for an overdue, personal and significant retreat. I had been wanting to reconnect with Iona to organise a writing retreat, so I was fulfilling two objectives. It is a very sacred isle that offers deep healing and was just what I needed. Mum was happy  (and I guess sad) to finally wave goodbye after three intense months together. The year has allowed me to live what I call a “revised version” of living location free – with restrictions and other things factored in, like everyone. I was planning on spending 2020 starting to look for my next Northern bases, so that has obviously been postponed. My heart is being pulled by the idea of setting up some version of flexible homes in both Scotland and the Mediterranean – but that will need to wait until I can travel abroad to explore that option more fully.

I am just not a ONE HOME type of gal. Any future partner I have in life needs to know that a deep love for travel and adventure is wired into my cells. But I am starting to consider a couple of bases to move between, with loads of side- travel too!

So I relished a much quieter work year. I was already planning on taking time off from running regular online writing mentorships as I needed a break from that intense type of work, and then all our summer writing retreats retreated into the distance. So I took most of the year off to be in the GAP. I stayed in quieter retreat –type mode with myself.

I embarked on an intense, personal retreat process on Iona to recalibrate again. I went offline for 3 weeks and 80% offline for a further 5 weeks. The poor wifi signal helped that switching off process. But this was not about covid. To be honest, it was more related to where I am in my life and business cycle. I needed to do a mammoth, triple-angled closing out process. One was the ending of my relationship after five years, and another was leaving South Africa, and the third closing out a few aspects of what used to make up my business. But all that was happening despite covid’s impact. You can read more about that journey here.

On Iona I also fell headlong into a fantastic new heart-based hobby with the actual “making” of books, learning the art and skill of “Book Binding” or BookArt. I am smitten and have a bag of tools, paper, ink, and waxed linen thread to lug around now. If ever you come on a retreat with me, you will be sure to make your own book from now on!

Uhmmm, yes, the irony is that my motto is #LIVELIGHTELIVELARGE, so excess clothes can get turfed out of the suitcase but my new bookmaking tools will have to stay put for this #LocationFree gal.

I am still 100% pursuing my own version of living #LocationFree, just with the added goal of looking for a couple of places to call a “base” in 2021. Love Kate x

***Here is what some OTHER global Nomads say about how this year impacted their gallivanting lifestyle around the world. All of these amazing folk below have contributed to my latest book to offer their take on being #LocationFree.

* My global nomadship is NOT over yet! Dee Before COVID-19 stopped us all in our tracks, I had been already considering my global footprint and thinking about how I could still travel and work as a nomad, but with more and more respect for the environment by reducing my use of fossil fuels.

Since being “stuck” at my daughter’s house since March 1st, I have had more time to contemplate my next move, and I think I will be much more mindful about the “gigs” I say yes to in terms of length. Instead of jumping from plane to plane and delivering multiple workshops or events in one week, I will spaciously alter my availability and only offer one city a week for short jobs. In addition, I’m considering “putting myself out to hire” to communities for 3-6 month, longer-term projects.

As for this crazy year, I have still felt like a “nomad” because most of my international work has continued online, but I’ve been receiving some “snail mail” at my daughter’s address where I’m staying, and I don’t like it. My daughter and friends tease me, saying, “ooh, look, you have mail!” which I vehemently deny! Haha!

I did join a gym in my daughter’s town but, I made sure it was one of the franchise-type ones that proliferate Australia so that when I’m back on the road, I can still make use of the membership.

I still live out of my suitcase. It’s on a shelf, in the cupboard, in my daughter’s spare room, and I have deliberately done very little extra shopping this year and still buy my suitcase-sized “top-ups.” All my purchases have still been with the thought that I will eventually be back on the road.

As of December 2020, bookings for work in early 2021 have started rolling in, and I’m feeling the pullback towards the actual road (not flights) that will most likely be my future for at least the next 12 months until our international borders and flights are safe again. My global nomadship is not over yet!Yours in Community, Dee

Dee Brooks is a mum of four adults and is a passionate community development practitioner and trainer with over 20 years of experience. She has been an Intentional Nomad since 2015 and has travelled and worked in over 20 countries, creating impact through capacity building and knowledge sharing. http://jeder.com.au

*What is COVID offering US in terms of new perspectives? Martin When Covid struck, all my jobs and activities came to quite an abrupt halt. But organically, other things suddenly needed to be done. My life in a nutshell… Go with the flow, take things as they come, and run with it as best you can.

Pre-Covid, I was housesitting, hiking, travel guiding, and occasionally giving sushi workshops. When all that stopped, for my dad, who lives alone, all his support and social engagements/contacts were terminated as well. So I kind of organically transitioned into being his only daily visitor and part-time caregiver. A foundation I occasionally volunteer at was seeing a huge dip in the (mostly 55+ aged) volunteer availability, so my “whenever I can, I’ll let you know” volunteering turned into a fixed few days a week. With the rest of the time, I worked on my campervan conversion, which I was not really getting around to before Covid. So you could say that just as in life, Covid took but replaced other things in its place for me to make a difference… And no less important, it also gave me space to remember what I was passionate about and the time to work on it as well.

Looking forward, my future perspective has not changed much with Covid. I will keep living as a nomad, primarily housesitting going from place to place, alternated with some hiking travel guiding and volunteering here and there, and being a self-supporting van-lifer the rest of the time. What Covid did do, however, is make me realize how positive and stable this self-supportive lifestyle made me, as when mass-hysteria struck, I accepted it as it came and just took it in my stride.

To me, the best way to approach the whole Covid-situation is to look at what it is offering in terms of new perspectives, rethinking priorities and time away from work, commuting, and stress in favor of me-time. It is pretty much nailed on the head by this little quote by Karen Salmansohn:

You gotta look for the good in the bad, the happy in the sad, the gain in your pain, what makes you grateful, not hateful. And if there is no good in the bad, or happy in the sad, then you are put in that spot right there, right then, to help create it for yourself and the people around you… May you be happy and well, Martin Martin Van Den Berg is a full-time professional housesitter, capable with all animals but specialising in big or “difficult” dogs and packs. Willing to travel. dutch.mountainman@gmail.com       https://www.facebook.com/martinvdberg73


* Will we resume nomadic life? Nancy It was sheer coincidence that we moved into a long-term rental the day that Spain went into lockdown! A day later and we would have needed approval from the police to move, to drive elsewhere other than to the supermarket for essential supplies. My unexpected pulmonary embolism in April 2019 had stopped our travels and, due to ongoing medical treatment, necessitated us staying in Oliva for a while. As we liked it here, at the end of that year, totally unrelated to the pandemic, we decided to stay in the area longer and, in January 2020, found a new home near the sea.

Even if we had booked another Air B&B, ready to travel again, it’s unlikely we’d have been able to. As a new tenant hadn’t been secured for the townhouse we’d been renting, we would have had to stay there longer. This would have been so frustrating! I was always excited when moving-on and to have no choice but to stay would have been very hard. Instead, we could look forward to our new home close to the beach!

My online work continued despite the pandemic, and my weekdays didn’t really alter as I sat at the computer in my home-office as usual. The virus situation has definitely changed our nomadic mindset, though, and now I’m not even sure if we’ll resume our journey!

The pandemic in Europe and ever-changing border restrictions make it difficult to travel, so for now, we’ve accepted it’s necessary to stay-put. Instead of looking forward to exploring new places, we appreciate the opportunity and extra time available to visit our own area, which is very varied and beautiful. We’ve also made some friends here and, in a time when we cannot easily see family in the UK, these relationships are all the more important.

As we’ve not had to pack-up the car to move-on in a single journey, we’ve also gradually acquired more possessions and are making our current rental a ‘home.’ The more we become settled, putting down roots, it’s so much harder to consider moving away. Maybe one day we’ll revise our wanderlust, maybe not. Perhaps we’ll take holidays again instead. We’re just not dwelling on that.

Although we’ve always had a flexible attitude, this year has taught-us that absolutely anything unexpected can happen! We’re OK, and we have each other, our health, an income, and a home, so do appreciate this as never before. Kind regards, Nancy Nancy Benn is a versatile virtual assistant with more than ten years’ experience providing efficient support to clients. Working remotely from her home office, Nancy helps entrepreneurs achieve more time and headspace to develop their business by supporting and encouraging their endeavours by providing outstanding, skilled admin and secretarial support. www.directpaservices.co.uk         
www.nancybenn.com


*Coincidence doesn’t exist. I always believed that! Jan What happened to this digital nomad during the Covid pandemic? I guess the same as with all the others: being stuck in one place and not moving anymore. In my case, I’m stuck in Budapest in Hungary. Coincidentally, as a Dutch citizen, I already had a house in Hungary, and I am a resident in this country. Something that, after the fact, turns out to be a good thing. I will explain, and this explanation shows once more, that coincidence doesn’t exist. It was for a reason that I got stuck here.

In February 2019, I left the Netherlands and started my digital nomad existence. South America, Spain, and South Africa. In April 2020, I ended up in a very strict lockdown in South Africa, and after three tough weeks, I was finally able to return to the Netherlands on a repatriation flight. From The Netherlands, I flew immediately to my home in eastern Hungary. It was a safe haven in these bizarre times. It was also far removed from covid, with only 2 cases known out of the 3 000 inhabitants in the village.

After a few weeks of being in Hungary, a letter fell on the mat from the Dutch authorities. They stated that with retroactive effect to February 2019 (!) I was no longer officially living in the Netherlands, that I was not allowed to continue my business there and that I was no longer insured for medical expenses.

Pay attention! With more than one year retroactive effect!

Panic! What’s next? At that time, there was only one option: I would have to live 100% as a resident in Hungary and build a new company structure with two limited companies: one in the Netherlands containing all the customers and one in Hungary where I am an employee. Subsequently, I was accepted into the Hungarian health insurance system (which is cheap, but not the world’s best) and a perfect private health insurance top-up that will enable me to be anywhere in the world and still have good insurance!

All of this turned out to be a golden solution for me as a nomad. The taxes in Hungary are the lowest in Europe, and even after my retirement in some years, the 0% income tax is Europe’s best! I am currently renting an apartment in the heart of downtown Budapest, and at the weekends I visit my house in the countryside to relax. This is truly the ideal “snob-life’ of all the Budapest-inhabitants!

Coincidence doesn’t exist. I never believed in that. But all these puzzle pieces came together so precisely into one nice new picture. So with all that happened to me, I have to admit: coincidences might just exist!

While I am stuck in Hungary for now, I spend ALL my time preparing for the future! Jan

Jan Van Kuijk has been living partly in the Netherlands and partly in Hungary for more than 10 years. The two countries finally became too small for him, and in 2018, after 15 years of preparation, he decided to travel the world as a Digital Nomad. With his work on WordPress and Joomla websites, he is generating sufficient income to live his dream. https://digitalnomadlifestyle.nl      https://janvankuijk.nl


*Cruising (or not) with Covid – Debbie Well, it’s been an interesting couple of months – thank you, 2020!

From being aboard ‘that ship’ which was disallowed docking in Chile, Peru, Ecuador, Panama, Costa Rica, and Mexico, to finally disembarking our guests in San Diego, after 29 days onboard! Our guests got an additional 15 days cruising on the house, and of course, courtesy of corona!

Then, many of us got ill and had to deal with “isolationship,” which in itself added a new dimension to both cruise life, as well and levels of sanity and productivity! Getting the South African crew repatriated back to our own country was another covid challenge, but we finally made it to home soil in June, three months after the break-out onboard our floating home. At this stage, a total of 60 days of “isolationship” had been achieved, and it is no small feat to spending that amount of time on your own in a room that is hard to pace 10 steps without having to stop dead!

Since then, the waiting to return to what we love has taken its toll in various forms, forcing many to find alternative employment sources. I have kept myself busy by doing some ‘self-reflection and tweaking,’ a vital step to recalibrating and accessing what makes it out of the covid crisis with you and what needs to be resolved and rested!

I have decided to study a diploma in HR to be better equipped in my line of work and where I see myself adding relevance; making memories with my family, and building a legacy in my gorgeous granddaughter’s life while watching the world continue to be crazed about vaccines and searching for new normals!

Living life #LocationFree post-covid will have its own set of challenges, but I am hopeful that we will be traveling and impacting more lives in the near future! Remember at this time, to be kind – to those who don’t understand or think the way you do, and it’s OK to be different – after all, that’s what it takes to live #LocationFree. Love Debbie

Debbie Botha courageously leapt at the chance to travel and showcase her training development, coaching, negotiation, and change- management skills within the world of cruising. She now wears officer stripes on her shoulders and a smile on her face as she explores international waters is studying HR, dabbles in Bitcoin, and revels in being a nurturing Nana. linkedin.com/in/debbiebothaglobal        Instagram: @debbiebothaofficial


*Life Has Shifted A Little – Chris and Jillian We had moved places in Morocco a few times. We had decided that we needed our own space after two and a half months in the hostel we were painting in, and we moved into an apartment in Tinghir. Shortly after we moved into our new place, the lockdown was lifted. And even though we were some of the only foreigners around, we weren’t being hassled too much to come and buy things.

We moved out to Rissani after two weeks, which was located at the edge of the Sahara. The roads were now just starting to open up for people to move between towns and cities. After a few weeks there, we read a news headline saying that all foreigners had to leave Morocco by August 10th. We then decided that we wanted to spend some time on the coast, so off we went to Essaouira.

We ended up renting an Airbnb for a really good discounted price inside the medina. There were still very few tourists around, and we were getting hassled by more people to come and buy things. We had booked a flight to leave on the 8th, and a few days before the day, the flight was canceled. We then read more information about needing to leave and found out that it was fake news and didn’t need to go.

We rented the place for two more months, and it was nice to have our own space and work on our own projects. The owner of the Airbnb had upgraded the wifi to accommodate our needs, and we accomplished a lot of much needed online work. The locals’ mood had dropped, and eventually, we had started to see drunk people in the day fist fighting at random times. This was not normal, so we felt that it was time to go.

We booked a direct flight to Turkey, and we travelled to Casablanca to exit the country. There were not many people in the airport, which made the experience one of the easiest times we’ve had travelling. We were told that we would expect to get tested for Covid when we arrived at the airport, this didn’t happen. We were also told that we would expect to get tested when we arrived in Turkey, this didn’t happen either. Turkey was open, and everything was business as usual. In the last two weeks here, the Turkish government has started implementing some restrictions. Restaurants are closed except for takeout, a weeknight curfew of 8:00, and everything except grocery stores are closed over the weekends.

We have no doubt in our minds that this is the only way we can live our lives. Travel has probably changed forever due to Covid, but we will deal with it. We won’t be returning to conventional life, and we find too much happiness in this way of life

Chris de Cap I’ve been an artist my whole life, more than half of which as a tattoo artist. I spent the bulk of my adult life being nomadic, however, mostly in Canada. Now I’ve taken my nomadic habits out into the world. http://www.artisticvoyages.com/        www.instagram.com/artisticvoyages

*Clearing the decks and learning what it means to be resilient I feel like 2020 is the year that we were all forced to stop, take a deep breath, and look at how we are living. The word that kept coming up for me this year was resilience.

Here in Spain, we experienced one of the strictest lockdowns in Europe and in a city like Malaga where we are used to being active and social life quickly started to feel a little surreal. I remember saying to friends that it felt like I was living in a Netflix movie. Deserted streets, no noise or energy.

There is a thriving community of entrepreneurs and freelancers in the city and I organise a co-working meet-up. I remember our last in-person event just before the lockdown happened. I don’t think anyone realised just what was coming! After that, we took the meet-ups online like many events and it proved a great way to stay connected and motivated when we weren’t able to meet up in person. I launched my first retreat in October at an amazing venue called Vega House. This was one of my big goals for 2020 and after nearly a year of putting things on hold, I was determined to make it happen.

I have experienced lots of personal and professional shifts this year and it feels like it has been a bit of a baptism of fire. I know I have learned to be more present in how I live. I have become much more conscious of time and not wasting it this year. This has affected my relationships, friendships and priorities as a whole.

I had planned to do more international travel this year and instead found that there was so much more on my doorstep than I had realised to explore and appreciate. Slowing down and living with restrictions has helped me and I am sure others to find joy in unexpected places. I think I am going into 2021 with a renewed sense of optimism around what is possible for me. I am focusing on staying grounded and appreciating the here and now.

Victoria Jane Watson is a business and media mentor working with female entrepreneurs leading the way in the health and wellness industry. She gets to the heart of what makes her clients unique, showing them how to leverage their story and expertise effectively so they can build a personal brand that supports their business goals. www.victoriajanewatson.com   Instagram: @victoriajanewatson

“10 Lessons for Living #LocationFree” is available on all Amazon stores

Search under the title or by using:

Print ISBN: 978-0-620-90868-9

Digital ASIN: B08P7FQ94G

IN SOUTH AFRICA YOU CAN  ALSO GRAB A PAPERBACK ON TAKEALOT.COM

https://www.takealot.com/10-lessons-for-living-locationfree/PLID71293449

  #LocationFree – How are global nomads coping with their wanderlust lifestyle? was originally published on Kate Emmerson - The Quick Shift Deva

[recaffeine]

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog 💖 (answer only if you wish to! n_n)

I AM HONORED CHI.

OK. So I have 3 facts or stories to give.

1. Alright so Tumblr origin story. Started around 2011ish. So it's been about 10 years. Wow. I started to use Tumblr as a poetry blog, then it started to blend and become my fandom and romantic outlet too. Still is really. Originally named thecoffeeprince, then tommythepanda, and now tahsang.  I have about 3000 posts as of 2020. 5000 followers from my past tumblr days. My highest noted post was about a Snorlax pillowpet that got around 100k notes. Pretty proud of that.

2.  Earlier this month I happened to peruse my archives to see the progression of 2011 me to now. There are themes from 2011 to 2014 of pure black coffee bitter sadness. Then 2015 to 2017 of finding bright hope along with said pure black coffee bitter sadness.  And finally 2018 and onward of sparse moments of said sadness and more about things I love. So I want to say it's been an upward journey overall with minor and major bumps along the way. The constants of my Tumblr throughout the decade though has been anime, romance, Asian culture, and pure nerdiness and there is comfort in seeing parts of me that didn't change and other parts that did.

3. Now final story.

I remember writing about just being feeling depressed and and experiencing the morbid feeling of death after finishing high school. I was at a loss you know? I didn't really expect to make it to the age of 18.  I’m such a loom and doom type of person. I've always been a major thinker. The type to play out dozens of scenarios of things going wrong. The worst kind of overthinking. I was experiencing a turbulence of emotions and younger me just didn't know how to handle it. I wrote about living in books, running away from life and setting the stage of :the world vs. tahsang.  

Looking back at everything once more, I realized it was really wasn’t the world vs. me. It  really just me fighting against myself the entire time. The world isn’t wrong. It just is. All the years of sadness, anger, and desperation was just a battle against myself. 

I had this singular notion that I wanted to be happy. Happiness was my promised land and that was where I dreamed to be at. I imagined hope as the brightest of lights and felt that if I could reach happiness I could reach feeling complete. I would no longer be a broken hallelujah. I wanted the strength to able to withstand life's hardships without any staggering.

Well, it's 2020 now. It's been almost ten years since I've started my tumblr. I’m still staggering. lol. I’m still getting sad from time to time. I’ve stepped out of a 4 year relationship and for the first time in a long time I’m by myself, alone. There is no one to define me but me. In the last few months I've been coming to grips with all these changes and that lead me to ask. Who is tahsang?

 Going back through my Tumblr posts from the beginning, it feels like past tahsang was trying so hard to deflect my sadness. He was just soaking in the rain, trying so hard to paint the world as the reason for my shortcomings. 

But it's been such a journey. I'm going to be 27 in a month. I have better tools when it comes to reflecting on my sadness now. Even in my darkest of moments, I still want to see the good in the world and honestly that’s enough for me. Just the attempt to try to see the good in the universe is enough for me even if some days I still feel the world is cruel and dark. Honestly, I'm still the sad emotional boy I knew in high school. I'm still the fervent ink spiller from my college years. But I’m also that wishful guy trying to achieve  seeing the good in humanity, life and myself when I was in pharmacy school. I have erred so much in these last ten years, but even so, I do not believe it was all for naught.

I’m starting to realize that maybe having hope isn't just wishing for sunshine and blue skies. Maybe having hope is truly a mixture of sadness and happiness. Accepting the grey skies and stormy nights to experience the sunshine and blue skies. Having the strength to carve a brighter future, yet being able to accept the mistakes of the past and future mistakes of what lies ahead. 

It's still a constant battle. On days I feel optimistic, my goals slowly being achieved day by day. I still want to get my mom a house. I still want to be a great pharmacist. I still want to be there for all my friends. I want to be able to love myself. I want to be able to find someone who can love me for me. But others days are filled with the same doubts and negative thoughts from all the way back in 2011. I'm afraid of not being good enough. I'm afraid of failing. I'm afraid of not amounting to anything. But.. I think that’s okay though. All these feelings are part of me, and I don’t feel the need to run away from them anymore. I’m not afraid to hurt anymore. I will struggle, beautifully against all odds. I wish I could see my 17 year old self and tell him that everything will be okay. I want to tell him that I’m no longer writing about what is wrong with the world and myself, and that I’ve been writing about the things I love and cherish and that I’m on the road towards cherishing myself even.  Maybe.. no definitely, it will give him some comfort on what lies ahead in the future.

All in all, I feel like 2019 me pushed me off the edge of a cliff for the start of 2020. He knew i could handle this great loss in my life. To me, 2019 was the best version of myself. Positive. At peace. Courageous. I trust him. He made me take a big leap of faith for 2020, believing I'd have the strength to rise up and move forward with my life even with this great loss. He knew that even with these changes that I would prosper still.

I’m not sure if I’ve landed just yet. I’m beginning to grasp this newfound hope though, the complete hope that I was looking for all along. I think that’s enough for now. It’s truly empowering and I can’t wait to see what lies ahead in my future because of it. I’m hopeful.

It’s really late and I just felt like typing. I’m not sure if any of this made any sense but ty for listening to my tedtalk.

[mccourtytwins]

this is long and probably a lil too personal but i felt like i wanted to say something and this is what came out so yall can really just ignore this. its long. its dramatic. 

idk how many of the people that follow me know but 2018 and 2019 have really been the worst years of my life. waaaaay worse than i ever imagined my life could ever get. genuinely. never in my 22 years of life did i think i would have to go through the shit i went through in these last two years. long story short, i lost my mom, my aunt, 3 pets, nearly my other aunt, nearly my dad, and nearly my brother within 18 months. obviously, losing my mom was/is by far the hardest thing i’ll ever have to go through. she was my entire world and it happened so unexpectedly. it pretty much left me completely empty. im really just a shell of a person at this point. she and i were the only people in my house that enjoyed sports. every single night we’d sit down and watch whatever game is on. she got me into football in first grade, baseball last year, and hockey last year. all we ever wanted to do was watch sports and talk about them. and nearly every day we talked about how we wished we could go to games. problem was, we were poor. could barely afford to pay the bills, rarely could afford groceries, etc. so going to games was pretty much a pipe dream because especially boston sports tickets are so disgustingly expensive. in december of last year, i won tickets to a red sox game and literally got so excited because we finally were gonna be able to go to a game. it was probably the happiest moment of my life because we were finally getting to do the thing we always talked about. anyways, since football has always been our #1 sport, the patriots games were always a must. however, y’all know how absurd those prices are so we never got to go. we always talked about getting to see tom play in person before he retired. this season was the year i hoped to bring my mom to a game. i had no idea how i was gonna do it, but i needed it to happen. she deserved it.  she was so excited for this year because of how much promise they had at the beginning of the season. all the talent. unfortunately, she passed before the season started and never got the chance to see them. one of the things i told her in the hospital was that i wanted make sure i did the things she wanted to do. idk if that makes sense to other people but it’s something i thought was important. since she didn’t get to do them, i wanted someone to do them. idk. since her passing i’ve gone to 3 red sox games and a bruins game.  but still wasn’t able to go to a patriots game because tickets were selling at a higher price because of their record. so i kinda had just given up on seeing them, and honestly gave up on the idea that i’d see tom play before he retired. plus, i had no one to go with because my mom was the only person i know who liked sports. none of my friends do. 

recently, my friend has gotten into sports and now has an interest in going to games. so last minute (literally last week) i decided that i wanted to find a way to a patriots game. i wanted to go to a game with my mom there in spirit and finally get to live out that dream of ours. i’m still pretty broke at this point and would have to empty half my checking account for nosebleeds but i was gonna do it. so yesterday (christmas), i was feeling extremely sad and vulnerable and just overall like shit because it was my mom and i’s favorite holiday and this was the first time she wasn’t here for it. i pretty much cried all day... and all night but between my crying i scrolled through ticket sites incessantly because i wanted to find the cheapest ticket possible. i had a plan of waiting until last minute but i got impatient. i caved and bought a ticket for my friend and i to see them play on sunday and honestly thinking about it makes me wanna cry.

i wanna cry because my mom should be here. she should be coming to this game with me. i wanna cry because i’m finally getting to see my bb’s play in person. and although this probably seems v dramatic ((because it is)) i just feel like the tiniest sense of happiness for the first time in years. 

idk if anyone can relate but sports are literally my entire world. like it’s all i think it. i’m so immersed in the world ((probably a little too much)) and idk sports are just that constant feeling of happiness in my life.. especially when everything else feels like shit. 

so for all the people who follow me, i know you’re upset but you wont be seeing my incessant, annoying ass liveblogging for the dolphins game 😂💀. it’ll be sitting a billion feet up in the air, probably in the last row, out in the freezing rain but i’ll be happy for the first time in a looooong time. unless we lose then i’ll get sad. i’m kidding,,,, kinda. 

especially the last couple months, my faith has been a little all over the place and im currently in limbo of what i believe and what i don’t but, all i hope is that my mom is with me at this game. a funny lil side note; all 5 games i’ve gone to (i went to one red sox game with my friend while my mom was still here but she was supposed to be the one to go but she was in the hospital and she told me she really wanted me to go instead of skip it) there has been 1 open seat next to me. every single game. just one seat. 

another side note i should mention; ive been to 1 preseason game in 2016 with my mom and one preseason game this season. both games were all rookies. so i don’t count it as a game because i’ve never gotten to see the main guys play. 

okay i’m done now, sorry for being overdramatic and annoying.

fuck the dolphins, lets go pats.

TLDR; 2018 and 2019 have been the worst years of my life and honestly this decade has been nothing but sadness and loss for me but i’m finally experiencing my childhood dream of seeing the patriots play in person. it’s probably not that deep to anyone else but this is literally something i’ve wanted since first grade. i’ve waited 16 years for this. 

[katehuntington]

Title: All I Want - part two Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Pairing: Dean x Reader Series summary: Sam and Dean come across an object that could be the solution to Michael. The Pearl of Baozhu grants the beholder’s deepest desire. Once Dean focuses on his wish, the archangel remains caged in his mind however. Instead his former girlfriend Y/N shows up, who was killed in 2010 in Detroit, by no other than Lucifer himself. Summary part two: After another horrific nightmare, Dean joins his brother in search for an answer to take down Michael. They strike gold when they find the Baozhu, but Dean’s wish doesn’t ban the Archangel from his mind. Instead he reunites with the one person he never thought he’d see again. Warnings part two: NSFW, 18+ only. Spoilers season 14 episode 13. Angst, fluff-ish. Nightmares, descriptions of flashbacks, mentions of major character death, anxiety, grieving over lost loved one, swearing, alcohol consumption. All the tears. Word Count: 4019 words Author’s note: Part two of a multi part miniseries, based on the 300th episode “Lebanon”. Prepare for major angst, heartwarming reunions and heartbreaking goodbyes. Beta’d by the lovely @kittenofdoomage​ and @coffee-obsessed-writer​, thank you so much for your feedback!

All I Want Masterlist

February 7th, 2019 Lebanon, Kansas

    A rigid gasp for air ends Dean’s tormenting dream. He bolts up in bed, sheets and yesterday’s clothes clinging to the cold sweat that covers every square inch of his skin. His heart is racing as if he just ran up ten flights of stairs, shivers wrecking his body. Eyes wide open he stares at the opposite wall, trying to calm himself by focusing on his breathing. It’s not real, Dean. Not yet. Not now.

    The splitting headache that has haunted him ever since he locked Michael in that coolcell far in the back of his mind, pushes itself to the front, pounding behind his eyes in the rhythm of the archangel’s fists on the door. The hunter breathes in deeply and exhales, letting the air flow from his lips. He’s not in the box, he’s not drowning like he was a second ago, and although he knows it is written in Billie’s book that this will be how he will meet his end, he has to hold on to the present. Dean sighs and closes his eyes. I’m in control.

    A knock on furnished wood draws his gaze towards his bedroom door, finding the tall silhouet of his brother, carefully pushing it open. Faint yellow light from the hallway reaches into room number eleven, illuminating only one side of Sam’s face, but it’s enough for Dean to make out the worried expression in his features.    “Did I wake you?” Sam asks hesitantly.     But the oldest of the Winchester brothers shakes his head, rubs his eyes and glances aside at his alarm clock. Not even 3 ‘o clock, so that gives him… two and a half hours of sleep? If you can call back to back nightmares sleep, anyway. Then Dean notices the scratches on the wall next to his bed, traces of crimson in the concrete. When he checks his right hand, he finds his fingertips bloody, his nails scraped away to the flesh.

    The hunter shifts his gaze back to Sam, who honestly doesn’t look like his night was any better.     “What are you doing up?”, he wonders.     “Cataloging Bart Kemp’s stuff. Thought I might find something that could help us out. He owned a ton of occult objects,” Sam asserts.     “Need a hand?” Dean shifts, flopping his legs over the side.     Sam frowns at that. Dean who wants to catalog hundreds of ancient items? That’s a new one.     “Sure you don’t wanna get some rest?” Sam returns doubtfully, watching how his brother straps on his boots.     “Nah, I’m good. Can’t sleep anyway.” He gets up and runs his fingers through his hair, smoothening it out.

    Avoiding his little brother’s concern, he pushes himself past Sam in the doorway, awkward unspoken words hovering between then. He can feel the tall hunter’s eyes, fixed to unravel what Dean is desperately trying to hide. Endless nights of terror as Michael wreaks havoc in his mind. Reliving the worst moments of his life and experiencing the new definition of hell that is yet to come. Trapped in the Ma’lak Box, screaming for help, for his brother, for Y/N, as he tries to crawl his way out while the water seeps in.

    As Dean enters the library with Sam on his tail, he grabs yesterday’s half a bottle of Jack Daniels from the table, unscrews the cap and takes a swig. His eyes roam over the collection of curse boxes, books and scattered notes, again ignoring the look his brother is throwing him. He has never shied away from liquor, but these days he fills more whiskey tumblers than coffee mugs. Self-medicating, he keeps telling himself. Anything to shut the tremors down.     “So, what we got?” he wonders, trying to steer the attention away.     “Dean...”     “Don’t.”

    With an agitated sigh the oldest of the two sits down, dismissing his brother’s attempt to start the conversation that he’s been trying to avoid for weeks. But for a short second, his mask wears thin. It confirms the worries that keep Sam up at night as well. Suddenly his brother seems older than forty, the age that the hunter miraculously reached last month. He’s much older when you count the decades he spent in Hell. Add the losses he suffered, the pain he’s been through, sleepless nights and tainted dreams; he’s an old soul, tired and worn. Keeping the Archangel on lock down is becoming more difficult with each day. Especially now that Michael is trying to break him by using the woman Dean lost his heart to.     “I heard you,” Sam admits. “I’m pretty sure the entire bunker did.”     Dean rolls his eyes slightly before looking away, opening his mouth to fire a second warning. But then Sam drops the bomb.     “I heard you call out for Y/N, too.”

    Y/N. The name of the woman Dean loved more than he ever thought he would be capable of, especially after all the horror he bared witness to. The name that’s never mentioned, not because she’s not worth to remember, but because even after all those years, he’s still afraid that touching that subject will wreck him the same way her death did.

    His heart starts to physically hurt as pressure on his chest builds. Struggling to hide the discomfort from showing, Dean has another swig of whiskey. He can’t prevent his jaw from clenching as he swallows down the alcohol, allowing the strong after burn to distract him. He could blow up on Sam, remind him of the fact that last time when he brought her up, Dean threatened to break his little brother’s nose if he ever would speak of her again. But Dean doesn’t counter. He’s too tired to fight Sammy, too.     “What do you want me to say, Sam?”     Sam spreads out his arms and lets them fall against his side, despondency in his stance.     “Anything!” he exclaims, his voice a little higher and a little louder than he anticipated. “Dean, I know nightmares come with the job, but this isn’t normal. Not even for us.”

    “Of course it’s not normal, Sam! Having a fucking Archangel trapped in my head ain’t a typical day at the office either! Who do you think is causing these dreams, huh?” Dean snaps, looking Sam in the eye for the first time that night. Then he takes a breath and collects himself. Stop being an ass, Dean. Sammy’s just worried.     “Michael is pulling out all the stops to crush me before we pin him down. Keeping me quiet by giving me what I wanted didn’t work, so now he’s doing the opposite,” he continues, much calmer now. “During the day I can handle him, but at night…”

    Mixed feelings cause the hunter to pause. He doesn’t want to burden his little brother with the weight that comes with the knowledge. He’s troubled enough as it is, frantically trying to find another way to expel Michael and lock him away where he can’t hurt anyone else. Another option, a scenario that doesn’t include his big brother on the bottom of the ocean in the Malak’ Box. But God, Dean needs an outlet.     “So this is his new approach? He shows you your darkest days?” Sam assumes, frowning empathetically.     Dean averts his eyes back to the bottle, his fingers around the glass body.     “On the big screen,” he confesses. “I’m not just watching, though.”     “What you mean?”     The younger Winchester has taken a seat, leaning his elbows on the rosewood surface as he leans over the table.     “I’m not a witness,” Dean begins to explain. “Sometimes I’m under water, like I’m in the Box already. Other times I experience memories I wish I could forget, exactly the way it went down. It… It feels real. I’m there, in the moment, but I can’t stop it. I can’t change what I did or didn’t do.”

    Sam runs his hand through his dark hair, feeling terrible that his big brother is forced to endure this every time he closes his eyes. His mind floats back to the moment earlier tonight, when Dean’s screams reached his hearing. His own name echoed through the hallways, but the chilling cry when he called out for her, will stay with him for a much longer time.     “Dean, Y/N’s death was not your fault,” Sam tries to assure him.     But Dean disagrees, shaking his head as he leans back in his seat. “I was supposed to protect her. She shouldn’t have been there with me, Sam.”     “She was our back up.”     “Yeah, and it got her killed.”

    Dean swallows down another slug of Jack Daniels and sniffs when he lowers the bottle, having downed almost a quarter of it’s content already. He bites his bottom lip hard, tempted to draw blood as he thinks about that day in Detroit. He remembers the argument they had before entering the apartment building where Lucifer held up. She refused to let the brothers go in by themselves, claiming that they needed a third man in case the plan went south and there was no one to finalize the mission. She didn’t just wanted to be there for them, she wanted to be there for him. He was about to lose his little brother forever, and she wanted to catch him before he fell to his knees. Dean allowed it reluctantly, and minutes later her skull was crushed against the concrete, bringing her short but meaningful life to a screeching halt.

    He was supposed to have her back that night. She was his girl. His girl he failed to save. And it’s not just Y/N who haunts him, because the son of God was right. His father, the Harvelles, Ash, Bobby, Pamela, Charlie, Kevin… The list goes on. All perished either because they gave their life for the Winchesters, or because they got caught in the crossfire. That’s on him. Every loved one he ever lost lost, they are all casualties he blames himself for. He doesn’t need an Archangel to remind him of his wrongs.

    Dean rises to his feet and pushes his chair back, its legs drawing such a loud screech from the smooth furnished floor, that Sam startles. Both were lost in thought for a moment, until the oldest of the two snaps out of it and decides that it’s time to get to work.     “Let’s not dwell on the fact that Michael is making my time in Hell look like Disney World. As long as I’m still sane, I much rather spend my night finding a way to end him.” He frowns at his little brother, his mask back on. “What do we got?”         The younger Winchester gathers his thoughts and shifts some notes aside.     “Well, uh - amongst all this there are a few artifacts that could be interesting. One of them is called the Pearl of Baozhu. It’s one of the eight ancient Chinese treasures.”     “What does it do?” Dean wonders.     “It grants wishes. Technically it’s supposed to give you ‘what your truly heart desires’.”     Hopeful Sam looks up to the hunter at the head of the table, who shrugs and seems to consider it.     “That would be Michael out of my head,” he concludes.     “Exactly.”     Dean takes a look around at the stack of boxes.     “So you’re telling me that the answer to our problems is sittin’ somewhere in this pile of shit?”     “Better start digging,” Sam suggests, pushing a box in his direction.

    Serenity lingers in the bunker in the early hours of a new day. The table lamps spread their light over the surface underneath, their rays warm and gentle for tired eyes. Dean is surrounded by several boxes and books, going through a journal while leaning back in his chair and with his ankles crossed, somewhat more relaxed now that he contributes to something useful. He’s nursing his whiskey, kept busy in search for a clue in order to find the Pearl. It’s a few minutes past five in the morning, when Sam opens his third box of the night and reveals a small bag, the silk fabric tied together with a yellow cord. Curiously Sam takes it out and loosens the tie, unfolding a little red cushion, on which a perfect round shape rests.     “Dean.”         “Hm?”     His brother doesn’t look up immediately, biting the end of pen as he scans through Bart Kemp’s notes.     “I think this is it,” Sam states, looking down at the tiny object that could be the solution to everything.      Now he does captures Dean’s attention, his green eyes darting up from sloppy handwriting to the little white ball.     “That’s the Pearl?” he checks, for some reason expecting something so powerful to be bigger.         Sam nods, hope pulling at the corner of his mouth. Intrigued Dean rises to his feet and circles the table, his eyes fixed on the powerful artifact.     “Let’s do it.”     “Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom, or wait for Cas?”, his brother suggests, somewhat anxiously.     “No,” Dean dismisses, taking the unfolded red cushion in both hands gingerly.  ‘If this mojo works like you say; great. If not; why get their hopes up?”

    Sam holds his brother’s gaze for a moment, wondering if that’s all there is to Dean’s eagerness, or that the real reason why he’s jumping the gun, is his desperation for expelling the Archangel from the Alcatraz that is his mind. Deciding that this is not the time to test that theory, he agrees.     “Okay, so…” Dean reaches for the Baozhu, not sure if he can touch it without consequence. “What do I do?”     “I don’t know.” The younger brother shrugs hesitantly. “I… I guess you hold the pearl and concentrates on what your heart desires?”     “Michael out of my head.”      The man holding the Pearl imprints the sentence into his brain, while Sam shoots his sibling a short glare, as if just stated the obvious.     “Got it,” Dean reassures, just a little too quickly.

    To Sammy it might seem cut and dry, but the man who is about to make a wish isn’t so sure. He could think of a list of things he would want differently. What would the world look like if the Yellow Eyed Demon hadn’t come after his family? If all evil would disappear from the face of the earth, just like that? Would Mom have raised her sons to have a normal childhood? Would his father still be around? Would Cas have descended from Heaven? Would Dean’s path crossed Y/N’s? Would she be alive?

    Dean regains his focus, picks up the little white ball from the cushion and holds it between his thumb and his index finger. Michael out of my head. That’s all he needs to keep in mind. Right now, that is all he wants. Before he rolls the Baozhu into the palm of his hand, the brothers exchange one last look, but then Dean encloses his fingers around the tiny treasure with such great power, and shuts his eyes. With furrowed brow Dean concentrates.

    It only takes a few seconds before an eerie electric static reaches his hearing, triggering him to look up. The wall lamps in the library flicker violently, until the power shortage causes the back up generators to start running. All secondary equipment is switched off and the emergency lights come on, draping the Winchesters in a red gleam. Sam observes his surroundings allerted, his eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness. Cautiously the men try to pick up on even the slightest movement or sound, their senses heightened, driven by instinct.

    Then they hear footsteps. Sam pulls his gun from behind his waistband in a split second, aiming at the central War room. His brother isn’t as quick on the draw, though, a hint of familiarity in the way the boots sound on the marble floors slowing him down.     “Dean? Sam?”

    Right there and then, Dean’s heart stops. He knows that voice, he’d recognize it anywhere. Soft and clear, just like he remembers, just like he dreamed. Shell shocked he stares down at the other room, where a silhouette appears from around the corner. Now he inhales sharply, wide eyes fixed on the figure approaching. No way… It can’t be.

    The power switches back on, the ominous red emergency rays replaced with warm bright light. It reveals Dean’s careful suspicion and it knocks the air out of his lungs. He must be dreaming again. That, or he’s having a hallucination. It wouldn’t be far fetched, sleep deprivation and alcohol consumption considered. But when he steals a glance at Sam, he sees the same shocked expression while his brother slowly lowers his gun.     “Y/N?” he stammers.

    She walks up the steps and halts under the arched entrance to the library, a little out of breath after her run down the hallways of this immense place. She glances from one Winchester brother to the other, her wild eyes leaving Dean for a second as she looks around at the impressive library. She doesn’t recognize the place, but despite the brick walls and lack of windows, it feels welcoming and safe. Wait, is that a telescope?     “What in the Hell? Where the fuck are we?” she wonders, returning her gaze to Sam. “And what happened to you guys? You both look like you aged a decade overnight.”

    Sam lets the air flow from his lips with a short huff, not sure if she’s trying to be funny or doesn’t have a clue what is going on. It’s so unmistakably her, though. The wit, the way she lights the room, a carelessness in her stroll as she enters the library. This is, without a shadow of a doubt, his friend, the closest he ever had to a sister. He can’t take his eyes off her, and he’s not the only one. It doesn’t go unnoticed, because Y/N bounces her focus between the boys, frowning at the evident shock on their faces.

    “W- why are you looking at me like that?” Uncomfortably she rubs her arm, her gaze now fixed on Dean.

    Unable to answer, he dumbfoundedly stares, his mouth agape. A mix of disbelief and astonishment has the hunter frozen on the spot, something that rarely ever happens to him. In his nightmares the Ma’lek Box would slowly fill up, until he drowned. In reality it’s his emotions that overflow the walls of his mind, the waterline rising until it reaches his eyes. Mystic green shimmers, his vision fogging, but he still sees her. He still sees the woman he lost, yet never stopped loving.

    Finally he’s able to move, stepping forward tentatively. With each step, Dean gets a little braver and closes the gap between them. When she’s at arm’s length, he stops, frantic eyes darting to take in every feature he never wants to forget. Afraid to burst the bubble, he slowly lifts his hand to her face. What if he touches her and she turns out to be nothing more than a mirage? An apparition of his hopes and dreams, crumbling to dust once he gets too close? Michael has played these kind of mind games before and it wrecked the broken hunter every time his fairytale world fell apart. But like he has done all those times, he reaches for her anyway, because what if this time, it is real?

    His fingertips brush her soft skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Overcome by both love and fear that speak from his watering eyes, she returns a worried gaze. Not daring to speak, she keeps looking at Dean as he cups her face, brushing a messy strand away with his thumb. It’s clear as day that the connection moves the person who has such an important part in her life.

    Feeling her under his touch, being able to connect with her when he thought he would never be able to again, it’s too much. He swallows down the lump that creeps up his throat, tears threatening to breach the walls. She’s here. Fuck, she’s really here.

    Dean takes a final step towards the woman of his dreams while he pulls her in and, without wasting another second, he does what he has been longing for ever since her shattering death. He presses his lips to hers, kissing her with everything he has. For a short second he feels her tense against him, but then she slips her hands around his forearms and she answers him, melting into the kiss. The man who regained what he had lost can’t help the tremble in his breath, can’t stop the teardrops from rolling down his cheek. He doesn’t care about showing vulnerability, because finally… finally he got her back.

    They part and she opens her beautiful eyes, confounded by his actions. A small yet genuine smile forms, breaking the shimmering paths of sorrow that came down his cheeks. Then the hunter pulls her in a tight hug, burying his face in her hair. Her heart beats against his chest rapidly and he can smell the shampoo she always used, feel the warmth she’s radiating. Memories roll into shore and the tough hunter holds back a sob. Noticing his distress, Y/N folds her arms around his back, giving him a squeeze that calms him down like only she could. God, does this feel good. She came back to him. It’s then and there that me makes himself a promise. I’m never gonna let this go.

    “Dean, you’re scaring me,” Y/N whimpers after a while.     The older Winchester brother snaps out of it and loosens his grip on her, distancing himself from her slightly, now that he realizes he lost track of time for a moment. He struggles to man up and shoots her another reassuring smile, not wanting to upset her.     “I’m sorry,” he utters, his voice raw and on the verge of breaking. “It’s just… It’s really good to see you after all this time.”     Puzzled she looks at him, not sure what he means by that.     “What are you talking about? I saw you last night.”

    Dean narrows his eyes at her in confusion. She saw him last night? How is that even possible? She’s been gone for nine years!     “What day is it?”     It’s Sam who asks, drawing both their attention. Y/N looks aside, then averts her eyes as she thinks. Monday, or is it Tuesday? As a hunter, there is no routine. Nights last long and days fly by, blending together endlessly. She forgets what part of the week it is all the time, nothing new there. Home Depot was closed when she went out to pick up a few errands yesterday; that makes it Sunday. Which makes today...     “Monday,” she decides.     Sam motions her to continue.     “Monday, October 20th,” she adds. “2008.”

    Stunned both boys look at her, the youngest of the brothers letting out a sigh now that his suspicion has been confirmed.     “Y/N, it’s 2019,” Dean informs, his voice soft to cushion the blow.     She cocks her head back at him, staring into his green eyes. Then she chuckles, shaking her head.     She scoffs. “No, c’mon, guys. That’s… that’s insane.”     But when both men keep a straight face that doesn’t in the slightest suggest that this is a joke, the grin on her lips fades. Unable to grasp what is happening, she takes a step back.

    “How?” She questions firmly after a long silence, an uneasiness oozing through her veins.     “I think we - uh…” Sam stammers, not sure if he believes it himself. “I think we summoned you.”     Large eyes bore into him, then shift back to Dean, who watches empathetically how she struggles to process the information. Her gaze drifts off to nothing in particular, going over their words. This isn’t happening. This is fucking insane. Last week they wrapped up a hunt in Pennsylvania during Oktoberfest that involved a shapeshifter with a fetish for old school monster movies. That was enough crazy for one week, if you ask her. And now they are telling her that she was fast forwarded eleven years in time?     “You boys better tell me what the fuck is going on,” she demands. “Right now.”

Holy shit! That was a ride, wasn’t it? Stay tuned for part 3, I hope to finish it soon. Meanwhile, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think so far!

Read part three here

‘All I Want’ tags: 

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @justkending @the-is13 @wildsageleon