#whatever. there are bigger issues out there (leaps into a sunset)

[wacklemons]

what the hell why is a book i need for one semester basically $80 i dont have money to spare i cant afford it.. evil of things to cost so much.

[alyjojo]

March 👵🏻 2023 Monthly - Taurus

Whole of your energy: Knight of Swords

I don’t usually remember the past month’s readings (I do dozens of them so…), but I do remember you had this card flipped last month, which that alone shows movement forward in the right direction. This is regarding communication you’re getting from someone in particular, that makes you very happy, it’s everything you’ve been manifesting and dreaming of. This can also be you sharing this news with others, which I don’t think you’re doing just yet, but you’re happy about it!

What’s going on in March:

Page of Cups:

This is good news you’ve been waiting for, it’s coming very quickly. This could be regarding career goals, travel, something you’ve been studying up on, learning about, or training for. There’s an internship vibe here, that’s for someone, possibly travel to a new location for work, school, or even visiting friends and planning a holiday of some kind. I do get more of a manifested work energy, or you’ve been putting work into it, so this can be a craft of some kind too. Or, some of you are very excited for upcoming graduations 🎉 There is a very young & excitable energy in all of this.

The Hermit:

For now, you’re keeping mum, because you don’t want to count your chickens before they hatch. You’re keeping very busy, probably continuing the work you’ve been putting into whatever you’re creating. It keeps you on your toes, and sometimes has been very difficult, but you’ve shown a lot of perseverance and are now eagerly awaiting your just desserts 🍨

8 Wands:

Communicating your news with other people is central to your plan, probably in order to plan in the first place. You’re needing to calm down and continue handling details, I get a sense of invitations being sent out and head counts needed. Some level of organization is involved. This can be for any number of things, and I think you’re being choosy about what you reveal to others because there’s some level of surprise involved too. Good surprise. You’re waiting patiently for your time to shine.

The Fool:

This is the leap into a new beginning you’re going to make, but again you’re holding off until you actually DO the thing to say anything about it, knowing that this is definitive and a big move forward for you. Final Sunset shows a period where you’re reflecting over how far you’ve come, how things may be changing moving forward. Geranium shows this new beginning being amazing for you. So there is a period of pause and reflection before you just jump in head first. You’re getting yourself ready along with everything else.

The Sun:

Happiness! Success! ☀️ Possible promotions, public attention, everything about this card is positive and indicates moving up in some way. You’re getting everything you wanted and it’s everything you’ve been hoping for and manifesting. You’re being rewarded for all of your hard work. March is an amazing month for you!

Signs you may be dealing with:

Aries, Pisces, Cancer, Aquarius, Leo & Sagittarius

Oracles: ✨

“Pencil it into your schedule.”

24 Ascension ⬆️

Some of those following a spiritual path have Ascension as the ultimate goal. However, Ascension, portrayed in art and literature as a great leap into instant nirvana, is actually a giant work of, well…art and fiction! Rather, Ascension is the process of conscious living. We are all souls in a human body who are living life on this earth in order to learn and grow at the soul’s level. That is being spiritual.

Whether you are conscious of it or not, you are walking toward ascension. Each experience, relationship, joy, obstacle, and creation, will bring you one step closer on the ladder to where we all end - with a greater awareness of ourselves than we started out with. This situation, at its best, is a rung on the ladder of your soul’s path toward ascension. The situation you are inquiring about is assisting you on this ladder. Work at the bigger picture and know you are bigger than any issues or problems you may have.

We enter into March as:

Final Sunset 🌅 :

“A life has come to its spectacular conclusion.”

This is a reminder to cherish all of the beauty in your life, including endings. Spirit embraces you and the loss you are aware of at this time. When we watch a day’s sunset, we can recognize the beauty of an ending. All things have a completion, even life. This is the end of a long journey. It is a time to reflect on your part of history, and discover what you value most. This could be a long emotional road ending, or simply a project at work that took a lot of effort and time. Too often we look to what is “next”, and miss the spectacular beauty of the finale. Do not fear the completion. Stay in the now, cry, laugh, reflect. Be with the fullness of your experience.

What is to be learned in March:

Geranium 🌺:

“This is another beginning.”

What appears to be an end may not be one after all. Often situations that generate our greatest fears turn into remarkable opportunities. It’s time to let go of the past, and trust that whatever is coming is better than what you’ve known to this point. You are ready to begin again. A new opportunity is coming from a place you don’t expect. There is a regeneration of some kind going on. Whatever you were pulled away from in the past was for the purpose of bringing you to a higher place. It’s time for whatever has been dormant to bloom again. Trust there is a higher plan. This is truly an exciting time.

Red may be a lucky color ❤️

[alexandralyman]

project neverland

Inspired by Colin’s upcoming role on The Right Stuff, I wrote a little 1960s CS test pilot/early NASA AU one shot. I didn’t aim for historical accuracy with this one, it’s more about the feel of the era instead of a literal depiction of the Mercury 7 and their missions.

Summary: Test pilot Captain Killian Jones always liked to go too fast. When he gets asked to join the elite group Colonel David Nolan of NASA has formed to be the first men to fly into space it's all he ever wanted...until he meets his CO's daughter, the beautiful and headstrong Emma Nolan.

Read on ff.net here and on AO3 here

Killian Jones always liked to go too fast.

In fast cars.

In fast planes.

(with fast women)

The NASA shrinks said it was because he had to grow up too quickly, too young when his father finally took off for good and his absence sent Killian hurtling recklessly into adulthood too soon with only his older brother left to try to keep him tethered to Earth. They almost didn't clear him to join Project Neverland, the internal code name given to the mission when someone made a late night crack after one too many pots of coffee about throwing out all the charts and just taking the second star to the right to reach the moon, but he was a hell of a pilot and after rising star Captain Arthur Pendragon, given the call sign "King" because everyone expected him to lead the mission, literally crashed and burned out of training in the Excalibur prototype and actually broke the damn thing clear in half, Colonel David Nolan publicly decided to give Captain Killian "Hook" Jones a second chance to join the team and be the hero.

Alongside a more private warning for Killian to clean up his act if he really wanted to reach the stars.

Killian knew the man wasn't kidding, so he took it to heart and stopped drinking (hard liquor, at least), stopped sleeping around (he'd been given the call sign "Hook" for his ability to hook up with any woman he wanted, including a general's wife, the bold and brash Milah Gold), he cut his hair short and shaved twice a day to keep within NASA's strict grooming requirements for its elite group of test pilots, he wore a suit and tie and smiled politely for the photographers whenever he was told to, doing the whole dog and pony show for the press without a single word of complaint. He wanted to fly to the stars, wanted it more than anything, he wanted to go faster, higher, than any man had gone before and bring home honour and glory for the name Jones.

Dr. Hopper scribbled furiously in his little notebook during their mandatory sessions and went on and on about his clear "father issues" and his "tendency to overcompensate" while Killian tuned him out, thinking instead about the feel of the wind in his hair when he drove with the top down on his 'Vette, rock 'n' roll blaring on the radio and putting the pedal to the metal up and down the Florida coast, or the exhilaration of taking off in one of the sleek new jets, feeling the lift and drag of the wind under the wings as delicate and powerful as a lover's touch along his skin when he aimed straight for the clouds above and pierced the sky fast enough to break the sound barrier. He agreed with whatever the doc said every week just to get out his office, lighting up a cigarette as soon as the door closed and taking a deep inhale to deal with his nerves instead.

Killian was keeping to the straight and narrow as best he could, but he couldn't stop himself from driving way over the limit in the early morning when the roads around the base were clear and empty as far as the eye could see, or taking his boat out just before sunset after a long day of NASA eggheads telling him what he could and couldn't do and blowing off steam by opening up the throttle as far as it would go to ride the waves so fast that the hull barely touched the water. Giving up booze and unhappily married women were one thing, he'd already almost ruined his career more than once over both and he'd learned his lesson the hard way, but the bone-deep need within him to push just a little bit harder, go a little bit faster, always chasing something that lingered just beyond his reach, well, what NASA didn't know couldn't hurt them.

Captain Killian Jones did everything too fast, but when Miss Emma Nolan grabbed the collar of his leather aviator jacket and kissed the smirk right off his face he wanted nothing more than to take it slow for once, since the only thing more off-limits than a superior officer's wife was a superior officer's daughter and Colonel Nolan wasn't just Emma's father, he was Killian's CO, with the power to ground him for good if he knew that his princess had been sneaking out to meet Killian at the underground drag races and after-hours nightclubs in Cocoa Beach. She wore dangerously short miniskirts and pale, frosted lipstick, all the men assigned to Project Neverland were half in love with her and she was the cause of every grey hair on her mother's elegantly coiffed head. Colonel Nolan's illustrious career had taken the family all over, although not always together. Emma had been sent to live with relatives in Boston while her parents were overseas on a remote posting that didn't allow children, reuniting several years later and then taking assignments at several different bases across America until he was handpicked for the most coveted position of them all and the Nolans moved again to Florida.

Emma recited the long list of former addresses without looking at him, staring out at the horizon instead while she sat with her legs folded Indian-style on the beach blanket he kept in the trunk of his car.

"It must have been hard, moving around so much," he offered. Military life was tough on families and tougher on marriages, which was one of the reasons why it had been all too easy to fall into bed with Milah Gold, despite both the ring on her finger and her husband's rank and a bigger reason why he had never followed that track.

"Yeah," she agreed, letting the clean white sand run through her fingers. "If I wanted friends I had to make them quickly, and then as soon as you really got to know someone new orders would come in and either we'd be leaving in a week, or they were shipping out, and sometimes you didn't even get that much notice. Sometimes...sometimes someone you thought you were really close to would leave one night and just never come back."

She said in a way that Killian knew she was referring to someone in particular, someone who'd done just that, walked out of her life one night and broken her heart in the process. But before he could say anything she stood up and took off, sprinting away from the memory on those long legs that looked so fantastic in white go-go boots and that he privately thought would look even better wrapped around his hips instead. She headed straight for the ocean and came to a halt right at the water's edge, waves just licking her toes and lapping at her ankles before rolling back out into the sea. Her hesitance confused Killian at first, Emma was like him, always leaping before she looked, but then she peeled off her lime green two-piece and dropped both halves into the sand, plunging straight into the crashing surf as naked and carefree as any flower child.

Killian Jones was one of the seven best pilots in the entire country, his reflexes were literally off the charts...and yet it took him an embarrassingly long time to pick up his jaw from where it had dropped somewhere around his knees and reach for the knot in his own swim trunks. Turned out there was something that could get his heart beating faster than the sight of the sleek vessel he was slated to fly into space sitting in the hanger at Cape Canaveral, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't look up into the sky when the sun set and the stars appeared.

But a late night skinny dip at a secluded little cove aside, Killian did his damndest to be a gentleman to Emma Nolan, and it wasn't because it was rumoured that the sword her father had mounted to the wall in his office wasn't just ceremonial. It would be easy to fall into bed with Emma, easy for this thing between them to be nothing more than another meaningless fling, but maybe he had been listening more than he realized while Dr. Hopper droned on about how lost boys either grew up and became men, or just grew older and which did he want to be? So he checked his speed and drove much more carefully when she was in his car and didn't let his hands wander when they danced no matter how dark it was in the hole-in-the-wall bars far from the country clubs frequented by his fellow officers and their wives. He made sure to have her home at a reasonable hour afterwards, even though he had to park around the corner and she was going to climb the tree next to her bedroom window and sneak back in anyway.

They got caught one afternoon, not by Colonel Nolan (although there had been a couple of close calls in that regard) but by one of those Florida downpours that came without warning, a sudden and shocking deluge that plastered the clothes to their bodies and ruined Emma's bouffant in a heartbeat before Killian could get his jacket off to serve as a makeshift umbrella. She clung to him while he held it over their heads, cursing a blue streak that would make a sailor blush and her mother faint while he laughed and did his best to shield her with his body. Raindrops slid down her neck and lingered in the little dip of her collarbones when she tilted her head up to the sky, mapping a course on her skin that he longed to follow with his lips until he'd charted every square inch. For someone who was about to take off at speeds men could only dream of a few short years ago and touch the stars, everything he'd ever wanted and more, Killian wished for nothing more now than to make these quiet moments last, for the song to never end when they danced and for the rain to keep falling, to keep them grounded in the here and now.

"You're leaving soon," she said in barely more than a whisper, a statement instead of a question. Suddenly everything was moving too fast, the mission date was measured in days instead of years now and their time together was growing short. The rain stopped, the afternoon showers were heavy but they never lasted long and it ended as abruptly as if someone had turned off a spigot, leaving wet pavement steaming in the sun and nothing to hinder Emma's return to her own car, the cheerful little yellow thing her parents had bought her.

"Yes...but not a day will go by where I won't think of you."

Emma looked at him and he wondered if the dampness on her face was from the rain or from something else. Her lips quirked in a half-smile that made his chest ache.

"Good."

Killian watched while she walked away and got into her car, putting it in gear and driving off. Slowly, at first, until it started to pick up speed. He knew, intellectually, that it couldn't go nearly as fast as his own V8, but it didn't feel that way when she was driving away from him.

He stood completely still until she was gone.

...

The little beach house that he'd rented when he first arrived to join the program went unused, Killian had to cram in his flight hours to stay mission ready after falling behind thanks to a certain blonde distraction, and he was going out daily in the jet that had been nicknamed the Jolly Roger and staying on base at night with other members of the crew. It seemed that whatever he'd had with Emma was over completely, she used to come by on a regular basis to visit her father and once she'd left the colonel's office there were all sorts of storage closets and empty stairwells to hold a more clandestine meeting afterwards. They'd neck frantically against the wall until Killian had to tear himself away to return to the daily physicals and calisthenics and whatever else the brass had scheduled for him, with the waxy taste of Emma's lipstick lingering in his mouth for hours afterwards and his uniform rumpled. But now it was Mrs. Nolan who came to base instead, with her lacquered helmet of dark hair and impeccable manners she was the Jackie Kennedy of NASA, always with a smile and a gracious word for the men under her husband's command.

It would be much more colourful if she knew exactly what her free-spirited daughter had gotten up to with one of them, even though he hadn't crossed that line. They'd come close, too close, moving too fast, too soon, the way Killian did everything else in his life.

Perhaps breaking up before one of them inevitably got broken was for the best.

Life magazine devoted an entire issue to Project Neverland and the men carrying the hopes and dreams of the nation on their shoulders, with each member of the flight crew getting their own double page spread. Captain Graham "Huntsman" Humbert was unsmiling and stoic in his photograph, described as, "the serious, single-minded leader of the elite group and devoted husband to his wife Ruby, as stunning and statuesque as any high-fashion model" while Captain Will "Knave" Scarlet was, "the practical joker, unofficial jester and class clown and a newlywed to boot, to former school librarian Belle, as pretty as her name suggests."

Killian posed alone in his flight suit, with no sweet-faced wife in hat and gloves like the others to stand by his side he was, "the swinging bachelor with the rock 'n' roll attitude and the looks to match, with eyes even bluer than Paul Newman's fixed firmly on the prize."

They were all inundated with fan mail after that, everything from children's crayon masterpieces of themselves meeting little green aliens on the moon to letters from senior citizens who remembered Kitty Hawk and man's first flight, but Killian in particular received a lot of perfumed envelopes decorated with lipstick prints and marked SWAK. Infatuated schoolgirls wrote him mash notes that Scarlet stole and read aloud to the rest of the crew in a high-pitched squeal, suburban housewives offered home-cooked meals with themselves served for dessert, and a Playboy Playmate even sent a few photos too racy to publish with her phone number scrawled on the back.

"Have you rung up Miss November yet, Hook?" Scarlet asked with a wink and a nudge, his caterpillar eyebrows practically doing the Twist on his forehead at the prospect. "Maybe we should start calling you Hef instead."

"Knock it off, Knave," Killian replied around the cigarette in his mouth, trying to snatch the picture back. Scarlet was shorter than he was, but he kept dancing just out of his reach with that smug grin while he continued to make jokes about Killian trading his flight suit for a smoking jacket. Finally, Humbert intervened, smacking Scarlet in the back of the head with one hand and grabbing Miss November away from him with the other.

"Ow! Watch the goods, it's property of Uncle Sam now, you know."

Humbert rolled his eyes. "We all are, dummy, which is why Captain Jones here isn't going to risk catching the clap and getting grounded. Are you, Hook?"

Killian met his expectant look. "Sir, no sir," he said, giving a mock salute and taking the photo delicately between his fingers. He left them to their bickering and headed outside, where he lit another cigarette and then held Miss November over the little flame, bidding her a silent farewell as she turned to ash on the wind before sliding the Zippo back into his pocket. Maybe he would have given her a call, once upon a time, risked a venereal disease and a shot of penicillin in the ass just for the story alone. But Humbert was right, there was too much at stake now. They all had to stay squeaky clean, in more ways than one. He wasn't even supposed to smoke in public anymore, which was even more of a pain when he had to deal with the press. Thankfully access to the base was highly restricted, and the wide swath of tarmac was completely deserted save for him and the line of sleek jets parked in neat rows, under a clouded sky.

The clouds drifted and the moon appeared, just as she had to the ancient sailors who set off in search of riches across Homer's wine-dark sea of old. They'd plotted a course into the unknown with only the stars to guide them and he was about to do the same, on a ship of a different kind but a ship nonetheless, with titanium wings instead of canvas sails to carry them across an ink-black sky, navigate by the stars and then follow them back home.

It wasn't his empty cottage that Killian pictured when he thought of home now, closing his eyes and letting the cigarette burn out untouched, breathing in the clean night air instead and hearing the faint crash of the waves against the distant shore.

...

A decision was made to hold a party at the base a few days before they had to enter pre-mission quarantine, a full on soiree with politicians flown in from Washington to see for themselves where their constituents tax dollars had gone, four star generals, celebrities and the cream of Florida society, and as the guests of honour, the flight crew in full dress uniforms with their brand new commendations pinned over their hearts. Colonel Nolan would lead them in to the fanfare of a naval brass band, each man with his wife displayed proudly on his arm. As the only unmarried one, Killian would escort one of the single women who'd been invited so he wouldn't have to walk alone.

Emma Nolan.

She arrived with her parents, stepping out of the car in a red cocktail dress that matched her red lipstick and drew him straight to her like a beacon.

Ot a warning light.

Maybe it was both.

"Miss Nolan."

"Captain Jones."

He proffered his arm and she accepted, her gloved hand resting lightly on his sleeve. His eyesight was as keen as the rest of his senses and yet everyone else seemed to fade into nothing more than a blur in the background, as far removed as the Earth would be once they broke through the atmosphere and went where none had gone before. The only one he could see clearly as the flashbulbs popped and the band started to play was Emma.

They weren't seated together at the dinner, much to Killian's chagrin while he made polite small talk with the senator's wife on his left and tried not to let his gaze drift too much in her direction. When the floor was cleared for dancing he took a turn with Ruby and one with Belle (neatly evading the rather overzealous senator's wife, a tall redhead from Kansas) and even danced with Mrs. Nolan herself, feeling his back straighten even more under her scrutiny. Her husband might be the one wearing the silver stripes, but she had the bearing of a queen in her golden dress.

"You look lovely this evening, ma'am," Killian said, his posture still stiff and formal despite the modern bossa nova the band was currently playing.

"Thank you, Captain. At ease."

He did relax a fraction at that while her stern expression melted into a smile. Over her shoulder he caught a flash of red and saw that Emma was dancing with her father, on the next pass Mrs. Nolan saw them as well and her face softened even more.

"Part of me is glad he's not twenty years younger or he'd be the one leading this mission instead of overseeing it. As exciting as this all is, don't forget about those of us back down on the ground waiting for you to come back."

Humbert drifted by with Ruby, her arm wrapped tight around his neck and her cheek resting against his chest. The wedding ring on his hand shone under the lights, his fingers splayed across her slim back and looking like there was nowhere on Earth or beyond that he'd rather be.

"I'll bring them all back safe and sound, ma'am, I promise."

Mrs. Nolan's eyes were a lot like her daughter's, a deep gemstone green that reminded him of distant galaxies they'd only caught the faintest glimpse of from Earth. They fixed him in place for a long moment, making his step falter and lose the beat while everyone else continued to dance.

"Not just them, Killian. You come back safe and sound. That's an order."

She had no real authority over him, but as the song ended and she patted him affectionately on the cheek, Killian was tempted to salute her as neatly as he would a general. He settled for giving a respectful dip of his chin instead, wondering as she walked back to her family if maybe, perhaps, his relationship with Emma hadn't been nearly as secret as he thought it was.

"Yes ma'am," he whispered, even though she was too far away to hear.

A few (or several) champagne toasts later everyone was invited into the hanger to view the spacecraft itself up close. Killian hung back, he'd already seen it, after all, more times than he could count, and as tipsy politicians eagerly followed the NASA eggheads through the doors to gape and gawk at what had built in this little corner of the world for the glory of all mankind, he noticed a familiar woman in a red dress with a bottle of champagne dangling from her fingers, heading the other way.

He went after her instead.

"You know, if you mean to christen the vessel with that, love, it's actually that way."

"Hmm," Emma mused, her red lips pursing as she appeared to contemplate the thought. "It's for good luck, right?"

Killian took it from her and swigged right from the bottle, feeling the bubbles pop on his tongue. "For luck," he said, and he was lucky that it didn't break or tip over when he set it down, blindly thanks to the woman in his arms, her mouth hot under his and her fingers fumbling with the buttons on his jacket. She got it open just as he hefted her up in his arms, fingers splaying over his heart while her legs went around his waist and a shoe hit the floor with a thump. They were in a darkened conference room, the walls strewn with maps and schematics of the most modern undertaking ever dreamed while the most ancient and primal of needs clawed at his belly, and he carried her to the couch in the corner that had seen many a hastily-snatched catnap during the late nights of the Project, but never an assignation quite like this one. For all the optimism and hope that they all professed publicly, privately everyone knew that the mission was dangerous, and there was a more than infinitesimal chance that none of them would make it back. Humbert knew it, Scarlet, despite the juvenile sense of humour, knew it, Colonel Nolan knew it and Killian did as well. The fierce claim in Emma's kiss as he fumbled with his belt told him that she was more than aware of that grim possibility, the squeeze of her thighs around his hips was an anchor, one he would remember later once gravity faded and he was floating free. As dangerous as this was it was more than worth the risk, and when he crossed that final barrier it was like both braving the unknown and coming home in one fell swoop, his face pressed to her neck to muffle his groan and her nails digging into his shoulders. The little half-moons she left in his skin had faded by morning, when all of NASA was hung over except for Captain Killian Jones and Miss Emma Nolan had gone home with a pilfered bottle of champagne and without her girdle.

She still cut quite the figure in her dress, even if it was wrinkled just a tad.

They were each allowed to bring one small personal item with them on the mission, something Dr. Hopper had said was to remind them of whatever it was they held most dear. A photo of a loved one, perhaps, or a symbol of their faith, the choice was up to them. The shrink had nodded approvingly when Killian had shown him what he'd finally decided to bring in their last session, leaving his little notebook closed for once. It didn't weigh very much, it couldn't, since it cost a literal fortune for every pound of weight being sent into orbit, and tucked easily into the little zippered pocket on his flight suit set aside for the purpose.

It was therefore the most expensive engagement ring in all of history.

Maybe he was moving too fast, but when he caught sight of Emma on the other side of the glass, come with her mother and the wives to say their final goodbyes on the morning he was going to leave the Earth and take the second star to the right, he knew he'd finally found what he'd been chasing for so long.