#constantly torn between never updating my game again

[thefirsttree]

A personal update + my next game

OK, time to do this. I’ve been meaning to do a big DAVID WEHLE™ update for a while now and explain why I haven’t released a new game yet, but you know how life gets in the way. Especially when life is a quarantine hellscape, you have three beautiful, amazing, exhausting kids to raise, a spouse’s job you support, a viral YouTube channel that turns your brain to mush, a thousand emails waiting in your inbox since your game is free on the Epic Games Store (with an impressive number of redemptions too! … meaning lots of emails and customer support issues), etc., etc. What also contributes to my lack of updates is because… I just don’t really like posting online. Fascinating correlation, I know!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a venting/ranting blog post (well, maybe a bit), because my life is seriously AMAZING and INSANELY BLESSED and LUCKY. I can’t believe how many dreams keep coming true, so much so that I feel I don’t deserve it and I really pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes… but I did want to at least be honest, because I owe that to myself.

Wow, where do I even begin? Well, how about we start with the reason I’m even a full-time indie game dev now: The First Tree. This small hobby project I worked on at night morphed into this gargantuan beast (or fox) that took over my life the past 5 years. Which is great! I’m living the dream! And yet, I really didn’t expect it to do as well as it did. At its core, my game is a slow-paced, sad walking simulator (ahem, I prefer the term “exploration game,” but you know what I mean) that somehow seemed to launch at the right time to the right audience. It resonated deeply with some of you, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I still get emails almost daily how my game changed their lives in some formative way. I’m beyond honored.

However, with that spotlight came criticism and demands from the ever-present, insatiable internet. I would randomly be surfing the gamedev subreddit trying to decompress, and I would see a comment by some rando saying how much I didn’t deserve my success, and how it was all one huge lucky fluke. And I believed them!

And to add to it, some devs considered me an indie marketing “guru”, which I was uncomfortable with. I worked hard to market my game every week, and after my GDC talk, people assumed marketing was my passion; the reason I got up every morning. Just to clarify… NO, I don’t like marketing, and I hate being the center of attention. I don’t like asking people for money and wishlists. But I did what was necessary because I was passionate about telling stories, and I wanted to give my story a fighting chance to be seen on the crowded pages of Steam.

So now, you’re probably wondering “well then David, why did you make fancy YouTube videos showing off your success? Not very modest if you ask me.” This honestly could be a long blog post all on its own, because my experience of putting myself in the spotlight and becoming a “content creator” is… complicated. It was an unusual step for me, especially since I never even showed my face online (as a game developer) until my GDC talk.

First off, I always wanted to teach and start a YouTube channel. I love video editing, especially since I’ve been doing it longer than making games! It’s a huge passion of mine. And teaching people who didn’t know they could make and finish games was a huge motivator (and it’s been so rewarding already). But the second reason is, I was scared. I was self-employed, and I was riding the success of a “huge lucky fluke” that would probably not happen again. I wanted to make sure I could provide for my amazing family, and give them food and health insurance and security in these tumultuous times. I was turning my lifelong passions and hobbies into a business, and it wasn’t as simple of a mental transition as I thought.

So, I went all in on YouTube and the accompanying online course called Game Dev Unlocked. I spent years editing the scripts and videos, and polishing them to a shine. At first, no one watched my videos, no one was buying… and in the blink of an eye, the YouTube algorithm picked up my main autobiographical video (“How Making Indie Games Changed My Life”), and I started getting 5,000 subscribers a day. Right now, I’m at 150,000 subs, which is still hard for me to believe. I always had a dream of earning 100k subs on YouTube, so I was pretty happy with the whole thing. Sales were OK, but mostly people didn’t want to buy the course. Then the emails came in…

Something you should know about me: I am a textbook “people pleaser,” and if someone asks for my help, I take it very seriously. If someone is mad at me, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all I can think about, and it ruins my day. So, taking an onslaught of people begging for help and multiplying that by an impossible amount of people for my brain to truly comprehend thanks to the internet… and let’s just say it wasn’t a healthy mix.

I received thousands of emails from people who were begging me for some kind of reassurance that everything would be OK. That their dreams would come true too. And I wanted to help every single one of them. I went from a nobody working on a game for fun to becoming a spokesperson for the indie game dream. I couldn’t even get a shake from the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru without someone recognizing me and asking for game dev advice. And it didn’t stop there… I would get emails from suicidal kids asking for help, teenagers from Afghanistan asking me to get them out of their country, and on one occasion I received an email from a hopeful game developer in a war-torn country who had just experienced a bomb blowing up their neighboring village. His friends were dead, and he was hoping he could finish a game before he died too, and he needed my help. How do you say no to something like that? Didn’t I owe it to everyone because I was lucky with my hit game and I needed to “pay it forward”? (Something people constantly reminded me of)

And then to top it off, after you’ve given everything you’ve got to other people in need… you get hate mail in your inbox. You spend the whole day serving your children and strangers on the internet, then when the kids are finally asleep, you hit the bed to relax and take a look at your phone to decompress, and you randomly come across an angry gamer in your Twitter mentions telling you your game they got for free sucks, and that you took away a potentially great game from them and that your apology isn’t good enough.

Long story short, I went to a mental therapist for the first time in my life. I was broken trying to care for two toddlers and a new baby in a pandemic (which is very, very hard), taking care of my course students who gave me their hard-earned money and demanded results, and the countless people begging for help on the internet. I was this introverted, internet-lurker trying to take on the weight of the world. I was so tired and hurt that no one cared about me and my needs… only what I could do for them.

Quitting my day job and making this hobby my full-time job has stirred up… mixed emotions. This statement may disturb some of you, but I was definitely 100% happier when I had a full-time job and I was working on my game at night. I missed working with the amazing team at The VOID, working on Star Wars… back when the success of my game was this abstract thing I could only daydream about. Mostly, I was making my game for me with no outside expectations to pay the bills or satisfy the ever-demanding internet, and that brought me a lot of joy.

It’s not all doom and gloom though! I’m actually very happy now and in the best shape I’ve been since the pandemic started. I’ve had to confront my weaknesses and personality quirks, but I’m a better person for it (and I’m sure these issues would’ve come out eventually). I hired an awesome community manager for Game Dev Unlocked who is helping SO MUCH with the emails, I can’t even tell you the mental burden it alleviates. I even leased a co-working office to help separate work from my home, and that’s been a huge help too. I’ve decided to work with my old friends from The VOID on a cool, new VR experience. It will take me away from my projects a bit, but I’m ecstatic to work with a great team again (and not manage anything, whew).

These are all things I would’ve never guessed I needed, because I thought I knew myself pretty well… turns out I didn’t.

The reality is: running a business is HARD. Running it solo is even harder. You have to remember, I was burnt out on The First Tree well into the Steam release in 2017, but I kept working on it for 4 more years due to my fears of failing again and not earning enough money for my family.

So, I was wrestling with the age-old concept of commercialism and art. There was this dichotomy of doing whatever I wanted and being true to my vision (what most people assume the indie dev dream is like), and doing only what customers wanted to buy. This is something that has killed me with YouTube… in one specific instance, I was super excited to make the exact video I wanted to make. I loved every part of its creation, and I thought it had a message that would inspire everyone. I lovingly edited it over several weeks, posted it, and excitedly waited for the stats… and it was by far my worst performing video.

This is not a new problem. Even the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo was a commission forced upon him by the very violent Pope Julius II. My wife and I regularly talk about the fine balance between artistic integrity and commercialism, a problem she is very familiar with as an artist who constantly needs to balance what she wants to make with what the customer wants to hang up in their home.

For The First Tree, I was lucky. It was pretty much what I wanted to make (I had to compromise a lot of things of course), and it turned out millions of people wanted it too. Recently, I thought the safe business decision would be to do it all over again, so I started work on a spiritual successor to The First Tree (an idea that I may revisit one day since I do love the story idea). But that isn’t happening anytime soon. Trust me when I say I am now currently burnt out on animal exploration games.

So that realization left me with a question: what do I do next?

I’ve decided I need to make a game that I want to make, for me. It will be a bit different and I’m almost certain most fans of The First Tree will not love it… but it’s an idea that gets me super excited. It’s an idea that could help me fall in love with game development again.

A few more details: this game will be story-driven, first-person, and will use the Unreal Engine. That means development is gonna be slow going, because I have to learn a whole new tool. The “smart business” decision would be to make something quickly in Unity which I’m already familiar with… but I want to do this for me, and UE5 looks like a lot of fun. I’m also shooting for an early-ish release date so I avoid burn out and I keep the game short: I want to release it in Fall 2022, but knowing game development, it will probably take longer.

With the help of my therapist, I’ve also concluded that I’ve been too accessible on the internet and that my self-worth isn’t determined by the amount of people I try to help online. Of course, I love helping people and seeing them succeed, but I need to step back and focus on my family and myself. I will delete my social media apps on my phone (I will still post big updates occasionally) and stop responding to most emails, tweets, DMs, etc. It’s not that I’m ungrateful… in fact, if I don’t say thank you or at least acknowledge the incredibly nice people who share a sweet message about my game or want to tell me how I inspire them (still hard for me to believe, lol), I feel a ton of guilt… but I need to let that go. Please know I’m extremely grateful to all the fans who follow my work, so even if I don’t thank you directly, I truly mean it: thank you.

I will still post and stream occasionally on YouTube when I want to (and I still do live Q&A’s for my GDU students). The online course sales will help support my family as I work on a potentially risky game idea (and my new job will help alleviate the risk too). I’m gonna try one more marketing experiment and sell a mini-course soon (and add an Unreal section), and after that I’m done working on it. A gigantic thank you to the people who bought my course and are part of the amazing community, it has helped me and my family tremendously, and it’s inspiring seeing the games you make!

I’m a bit worried about the whole thing since this new game idea could flop, which could definitely affect my family. But a sappy, high-school yearbook quote is coming to mind…  I think it applies here: “A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for.”

Thanks for reading,

David

#gamedev #indie games #the first tree

[mybg3notebook]

Does Gale love Mystra?

So far in EA, we have been shown that this is complicated to answer: human love is complex as well as the delirious lore of Forgotten Realms. 

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in June 2021.

The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.

The narrative is clear until the party scene which, as I stated many times across these posts, it's a scene that feels a bit inconsistent for me (reasonable since it's EA). But if we follow what the game explicitly shows us, we know that if we send Gale to sleep at the beginning of the Weave scene in which he is watching the incantation with the shape of Mystra, he will say: 

Gale: Long days, yes. And long, lonesome nights.

If Tav knows that the incantation on his palm is Mystra, Gale will explain:

Tav: [insight] You don't have that look on your face when you're looking at “no one” / There's more to it than that. The figure I saw: she means something to you. Gale: [...] I can’t quite describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her – to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence. [...]

Dev's notes: Passionate. [...] He was recalling Mystra as a lover, but doesn’t say that out loud. [...] Narrator: The Weave evaporates, and as it does so, you realise the night feels suddenly cold and lonesome.

This allows us to infer that, at this moment, Gale is feeling alone and probably very anxious with the oppressing feeling of the "orb" in his chest. The tadpole only increased the number of problems he has, so he resorts to seeing Mystra melancholically. We notice later in the Weave Scene that not having Mystra around increases this feeling of loneliness. The whole scene seems to give us the idea that he still loves her. There is yearning and loneliness in his current situation.

After a moment of passionate description of magic, Gale invites Tav to experience the Weave. The Weave has a particular effect on Gale: "The moment feels intimate. You realise the Weave is making you one." Considering how Gale was feeling while conjuring the incantation, this moment touched him deeply (the narrator implies that this feeling is mutual).

If Tav expresses their romantic interests, Gale will be surprised:

Gale: I.. I didn’t think.. Narrator: You perceive quick-fire gusts of embarrassment, trepidation, and finally.. elation Gale: Sorry, I wasn’t expecting… But it is a pleasant image to be sure! Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome. Dev's notes: Warm, with real affection.

The narrator is giving us meta-knowledge, we can trust in what she says, and we can see that the situation was truly shocking for Gale. These emotional stages described here made me suspect that Gale is a character who has focused for too long on healing his condition, ignoring any chance for romance. His surprise here may confirm that, in my opinion. He feels embarrassment, a feeling that one can interpret as a sign of the surprise of being thrown into a situation he had not seen beforehand (the death protocol and Gale’s conversations show us that he is a character that thinks ahead). It follows trepidation: fear or anxiety about something that he is going to do or experience. Gale is scared of the possibility. Maybe because he is thinking in the danger he is, maybe because he was already burnt by Mystra's attention and having someone else's attention now makes him feel a bit anxious. And then, the final resolution of the process: elation, which is a feeling of great happiness and excitement about something that has happened. Gale is suddenly excited by the possibility. Something he will be thinking about, many times, for the rest of the EA. 

Tav: So what did you think about what I pictured when we were connected by the Weave? Gale: Oh, I was surprised. But pleasantly so, just like I said. Amid the madness that has befallen us, it seems almost out of place to think of a kiss/ of a romantic walk. And yet... now more than ever, it's important to recall what makes us human. [if Tav is not human] Well- you know what I mean. A stolen glance- that sudden heartbeat... Sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms. They promise things to come.

So romance was not something he had even considered until the opportunity arose (this is why he won't pursue a Tav who didn't show romantic interest towards him). I think that, since he is a character always living on the edge of death, he will take this opportunity to feel “human again”: after all, he follows the concept of "living life to the fullest".

During the Loss (see the post of the "Loss Scene"), we know that losing Mystra was a big blow for him. He regrets his decisions of the past in this scene, and it reinforced the idea that he is the only one to blame for Mystra's loss. There is a yearning for the lost Chosen powers, but Gale's context in the majority of his scenes seem to reinforce the idea that he sought power not as a means, but as a goal itself to be closer to Mystra and Magic. Since we are talking about a wizard, his passion lies in magic itself, in being one with the Weave/Magic/Mystra. A Chosen of Mystra is so entangled with the Weave and magic that when they die, they are part of the Weave itself. This is the level of passion that Gale has for Magic, and since Magic can only be performed by most mortals via Weave, and the Weave is Mystra, the whole three concepts are, in fact, one; and it makes it very difficult from a lore point of view to separate them. 

Tav: There's something I don't understand. If Mystra abandoned you, how can you still cast magic? Gale: The Weave is still here, all around us – inside of us too. As long as the goddess lives, magic is a tangible thing for those who know how to touch. I've studied magic for many years, and in as many ways I am still a more than capable wizard. It's just that I'm no longer able to perform those feats even arch wizards would marvel at. To have one hand on the pulse of divinity. You have to remember that the Weave is a living thing, both the embodiment and the extension of Mystra herself.She can give and she can take away. I'm afraid I'm still very much on her naughty list. Consider yourself lucky you're not. 

I personally think Gale will never stop being devoted to Mystra (and won't stop loving her in many ways), because his passion for magic and knowledge is his own life, and Mystra IS those things. He loves magic for the sake of it. So losing this unique contact with magic itself that only Chosen of Mystra have was a terrible punishment for him. His abandonment issues are not just the result of a “guy being left by a girl”. They have an extra complexity because of the nature of Magic in this world and how its deity behaves with her chosen. Gale was not only abandoned by Mystra, but was also removed of a good amount of his capacity to perform magic. If magic “is his life”, the abandonment removed a part of his life away. I think some people miss this point, because, once more, it's related to Forgotten Realm lore and not Dragon Age. Many of these people keep constantly comparing this situation with Dragon Age, which has nothing to do with it. Dragon Age has no wizards, their relationship with Magic is natural, it’s sorcerer-like if we want to compare it, and the relationship with their deities (mostly absent, silent ones) are nothing alike the ones in Forgotten Realm. The context is key, as I repeated several times in these posts and in the one about "Context, persuasion, and manipulation". 

Tav: I don't know what to make of what you've told me, but I sympathise. Gale: Thank you. [no romantic weave] I want you to know that you’re a good friend. [romantic weave] I often think of that moment we shared together – one under the Weave. I hope you think about it too. /I'm glad to know you think about it too.

Narrator: You sense a moment of unspoken affection. You want to know where it may lead. Gale: I consider myself very lucky to have found you Tav: I think perhaps we could be more than friends Gale: Perhaps. 

Tav: You said you think about the moment we shared under the weave. Do you think about it often? Gale: Do you? 1-2-Tav: Yes / From time to time. Gale: So do I. 3- Tav: Not really. Gale: And yet you ask. I do, as a matter of fact.

Gale: You see. I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You're one such event that one day soon perhaps I'd like to embrace.

So after sharing this regret during the Loss scene, Gale will show affection if Tav remains friendly during the Weave (but Gale will never directly engage it, he is waiting for Tav to give the first step; understandable if we consider he also has a dangerous bomb in his chest, so he may be torn between wanting to, but knowing he should not to). If there is no interest in pursuing romance, he will show a gesture of gratitude for being a good friend during that night of regrets. 

If pursuing the romance, we can interpret that Gale, at this point, even though he is still struggling with all the emotions that Mystra inspires, wants to experience something more “human”, a romance with a mortal. We know for sure that Gale is getting interested, slowly, while thinking about it, since in each of the following scenes he will ask (or Tav will ask) about that “moment in the Weave”. He has been thinking about it for many nights, and he is “embracing” the idea. 

If Gale is treated with judgement (despite not knowing his whole story) or allowing him to keep the secret of what or who he lost, we will obtain lines likes:

Gale: Good. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. // And try not to think too poorly of me. A cat can look at a king. A wizard can look at a goddess.

Tav: Another fool pays for his arrogance. A tale as old as time. Gale: Arrogance? Ambition, rather. And ambition is a fine thing – until suddenly it no longer is. Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream. (Gale Disapproval)

We could interpret these lines as the only ones so far that may suggest that Gale is still wanting something from the goddess. We know due to the tadpole dreams that Gale’s desire is Mystra. On the comments of the second tadpole dream we know more details about his major desire: it is not just Mystra, but her forgiveness.

Tav: Gale, who is the apparition in your dreams? Gale: She's... It doesn't matter. I just know her to be unreal. Tav: What's impossible about what you're been shown? Gale: Forgiveness Tav: Gale, who is the apparition in your dreams? Gale: It's indeed Mystra I see. And yet it cannot be her. There was a time when I would have believed - but no longer. I told you that I lost her. Lost her favour and lost so many of the powers I took for granted. What magic I can still weave is met only with undercurrents of disappointing silence. Mystra has not changed her mind about me. That's how I know our dreams are delusions.

I think this scene shows the difference between a standard desire for power as a means, and power for the sake of power itself (since this power allows Gale to be one with the Weave). The scene is ambiguous enough to see it as Gale wanting to return to Mystra’s side as well as remaining as an ardent devotee of her (because she is magic herself). I keep repeating that these scenes show that Gale’s most important thing in his life is Magic, which is Mystra: the extension and the embodiment of magic. So his desire for her seems impossible to be extinguished completely. In previous scenes we saw that he certainly had thought through the idea of loving her more like a devotee than a lover, but certainly the weight of being his first love will remain, especially since she is deeply related to magic itself.

During the Party Scene we find some information about his feelings for Mystra. 

I personally ponder the book of Amn’s description as very important because, from a narrative point of view, it's a lot of lines/content that, if they were not important, tend to be removed from the script. If they are there, they are meant to be interpreted. For this reason those lines mean to me that Gale has finally embraced the idea of having something important with a mortal. In my post of the "Party Scene" I go into details, but here I will stick to the interpretation related to Mystra: all what Gale numerates in that book are things that he could not access to with a Goddess. Curiously, part of those descriptions are things that make humans human, so I personally think it reinforces Gale's intention in heading into this romance with the eagerness of finding some shelter (never forget the “orb” has a constant oppressing effect in him, increasing his anxiety and fears) and to experience (maybe for the first time) the love of a mortal.

So, for some assumptions made in the post of the "Party Scene", we suspect that Gale needs to share a night to feel confident enough to speak the details of his “orb” condition. Since he wants this relationship to be strong (after all, he implied commitment during the description of the book) he speaks about the true origin of the “orb” immediately after that night, starting with Mystra (which is, after all, the true origin of his folly). Depending on the version that Tav picks, we have extra information provided by Gale about his emotions for the Goddess:

Tav: What did Mystra’s attention feel like? Gale: Love. Perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. It was most certainly love to him. [...] One day all too soon, the whispers stopped. The goddess spurned the mortal. [...] and the wizard was left behind heartbroken. Tav: I hate to say it, but he really could have seen this coming Gale: He was blinded by love. Good stories are rife with lovers’ follies after all.

[Short Version] Gale: Before long Mystra tired of me. What was I after all but a mortal plaything in sacred hands? You have to realise I was heartbroken. I was a young man, she was my first love. I thought it would last forever. I vowed to win her back.

[after explaining the mistake of the “orb”] Gale: It is this folly that led Mystra to abandon me completely. I can only hope you won’t abandon me as well. After all we’ve been through.. After the night we spent together. Surely we can brave even this side by side

Gale is giving a very detailed context about his love for Mystra: she was his first love, and the first love tends to have a special weight in a person's life and their memories. That doesn't mean the person has become unable to build more relationships for the rest of their life. If we add the fact that he was very young when all this happened (more details in the Post "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1") we find him under two effects: the impression of the first love and the naivety of the youth. Both elements made him believe it was a love that was going to last forever. With a Goddess, no less.

Besides, Gale expresses this, highlighting his naivety and foolishness: he is aware of how silly he was back then, and how impossible it could be for a mortal to keep the love of a goddess. He is a pragmatic and realistic character, after all. He recognizes in the end that he was just a mortal plaything for her. 

I think these pieces of information give us a very clear context of his emotional state: he is still nostalgic for Mystra because of all the reasons I enumerated above; she is also more than just a woman, she is Magic itself. But he is aware that those emotions were the consequence of a very naïve and young self that has awakened by the burden of his own mistakes. There is also a reinforcement of “forever”, which recalls the concept of commitment that Gale pursues so much in his romance: he is not there just for the sex “intimacy”, he is there for serious commitment, maybe because he doesn't want to experience another abandonment. After all, we are talking about a character with a profile that shows abandonment issues (see the post of "Gale Hypotheses- Part 1", section: "Abandonment Issues")

[If rejected] Tav: No. This is too large a betrayal. GALE: I see. I am sorry. I am sorry that it had to come to this. All that’s left to say is farewell. Dev’s notes: hurt but understanding Gale: Farewell. (Leaves) Dev’s notes: A slight hesitation, hurt but understanding. He makes a polite little bow, then we see him walk away.

[If accepted] Gale: I don’t know what I did to deserve the magic that you do. 

Despite being terribly cheesy, this last line shows that Gale was more than convinced that Tav would abandon him because he doesn’t deserve Tav. This is why he doesn't put up much fight if Tav chooses to tell him to leave. He will try to make Tav listen to his story, and once it's done, the verdict will fall and he will accept it. He learnt his lesson with Mystra. This line also shows how everything important around Gale is or has to be worded with magic, even a silly metaphor like this is related with the word “magic”: Tav's acceptance is like magic. For him, as important and good as magic itself.

As if that were not enough, after the scene there is a comment in which Gale will reinforce his gratitude for Tav's acceptance:

Tav: If you ever feel the netherese magic overtaking you, what will you do? Gale: If it should ever come to that... if I ever know I am no longer able to stop it... I will do anything I can to ensure no one but me pays for my mistakes. I will find the remotest place on the surface of Faerûn, or perhaps far below in the depths of the Underdark. I will await that death alone. [*] I promise I will not betray your trust... You kept me by your side despite the menace that I am. If worst comes to worst, I will be gone long before the curtain falls.  [*] If romanced, Gale will say here "I cherish you."

Which makes me suspect that Gale can disappear at any moment (in full game) if for some game mechanics we are unable to get magical artefacts but the deal with Raphael did not happen (if that’s even possible). But that's just me speculating. Nothing in EA seems to suggest this. What i's clear is that acceptance—that strong concept in the book he put so much emphasis on—is really important to him, so he shows gratitude for that: he promises to protect Tav (and many innocents) from his own mistake. He also says pretty soon an equivalent of “I love you”, in a more formal/meaningful way: “to cherish” is not just to love, but to care/protect as well. 

Finally, in case someone lost those hints, or maybe as a consequence of this unpolished scene, we have a direct question with a direct answer:

Tav: Gale, are you still in love with Mystra? Gale: I’ll be honest with you; I don’t know. She is my muse still, the embodiment of magic, but the embodiment of love? Only if we ever meet again will I know

Gale simply says what we have been inferring so far with all the previous information: Gale reinforces the idea that he will remain as a strong, loving devotee of Mystra, because she is magic. I personally don't even consider it possible to remove that love from him. He may not be a cleric, but he loves his deity as one. But he also learnt his lesson that loving gods has its own dire consequences for mortals. He is very aware of it during the discussion about Karsus:

Tav: Nothing good ever comes from mortals wanting to be gods. 

Gale: Loving them has its side effects as well. Now, so many centuries later, I tried to follow in the footsteps of Karsus, not to destroy Mystra, but to prove my love for her. It tried to control only a fraction of the magic that was unleashed that fateful day. I merely sought to return one tiny diamond to an imperfect crown. Gale's Folly one might call it. History. Repetition. It's the way things go.

Once more, there is no scene where Gale doesn't reinforce that what he did was a mistake, a foolish action, a Folly. 

Finally, if talking about a previous lover immediately after awakening with a new one was of poor taste, Gale acknowledges this, giving an honest apology:

Gale: Before we go on though, do first let me apologise. To share such a night with you only to tell you of a previous lover the next morning... It wasn't the most gentleman-like behaviour. But I had to finally tell you. Silence would have been far worse behaviour still. Nevertheless, I am sorry.

He accepts any rude response or lash-out from Tav without approval penalties. This is an interesting meta-knowledge that speaks about owning up to his mistakes. Unlike the Loss scene, where rude responses made Gale disapprove because Tav was judging him without knowing the whole story [16], in this scene he doesn’t. Now Tav has the whole picture, and he accepts whatever reaction Tav shows. Of course he will approve a forgiving Tav, since Gale is a character very related to forgiveness [12, 12b].

Conclusion: 

So, answering the question that gives title to this section: yes. In my opinion, Gale loves Mystra. But it’s not a white-and-black love; it has the complexity of human love mixed with this crazy lore of deities in Forgotten Realms. I believe Mystra will always be part of Gale's life, because the Weave and magic are his life, and she is both. He will always love her as a devotee, even though he now understands the mistakes of his young self and seems more aware of how naive he was when he was a “very young man”. The comments on the second tadpole dreams explicitly show that what Gale wants the most is Mystra’s forgiveness, but at the same time, he knows that he does not deserve it. And this raw realistic view of himself is what makes him understand that those dreams are illusions. During the party scene he is uncertain about his emotions, but still he emphasises that there is a big chance for him to not see Mystra as the embodiment of love any more but reinforces that she will always be the embodiment of magic to him (a very important concept in his character design). 

Whether Gale is romanced or not, I don't see a difference in the information he shares on this matter in EA.

This post was written in June 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index

#bg3 meta #gale #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale

[jasontoddiefor]

at what point does eirtae realize that vader was having her teach luke things like politics because he was going to be made the emperor?

Anon how does it feel to be singlehandedly responsible for me updating this story again despite wanting to finish ALttCe first?

Luke was a sweet child, all of Padmé and Anakin’s eagerness and thirst for knowledge. He wasn’t necessarily a fan of sitting still for a prolonged time, but that was easy enough to accommodate. Eirtaé had never seen herself as a teacher, but she and Luke learned how to make it work together. Despite his young age, Luke could teach her plenty about making do with machinery and Eirtaé, in turn, taught him how to perfect his penmanship and grow plants from seedlings. She wrapped otherwise dry lessons up in stories of Padmé and invented ten new games a day to keep Luke interested, occupied, and away from Vader’s planning.

The man hadn’t involved himself too much in Luke’s education. In fact, he seemed to take very little interest in any aspect that didn’t pertain to the Force. He’d outright forbidden Eirtaé from even just mentioning the Jedi, but other than that, there were no instructions for her. Needless to say, it was unsettling. Eirtaé could think on her own, so she put together Luke’s lessons from typical children’s school plans and what she remembered from her own childhood. That it had been over two decades ago since she’d seen the inside of a school and had been training to become Queen at that point seemed to matter little.

So Eirtaé did her duties without knowing what such were. The longer this uncertainty lasted, the more aggravated did she become. It also didn’t help that Luke, ever inquisitive, asked her why he needed to learn a particular subject. Trying to elaborate on politics and law only worked by constantly reminding him that Padmé had been interested in politics. His disinterest wasn’t too surprising. Law mattered little on Tatooine, but Eirtaé would prefer it if she had a concrete answer for Luke besides a “because your father is a prick and won’t tell me why” hidden behind a smile and another anecdote of Naboo’s court.

When one Benduday proved to be the awaited opportunity with Vader appearing in a less awful mood than usual, Eirtaé seized her chance. She planted herself right in front of him, separating him from Luke, who was sitting at his desk.

“For what purpose did you bring me here?” Eirtaé asked without much preamble, staring directly into the dark lenses of Vader.

“Move,” Vader ordered, not particularly impressed, but Eirtaé wasn’t deterred.

“I asked you a question, My Lord.”

She said my Lord as one would say you bastard and hoped it wasn’t too noticeable, not that Vader didn’t deserve it. What wouldn’t she give to look at Anakin’s open face again, see all his micro-expressions.

“You are to teach and guide Luke. I assumed you had understood that.”

The man looked at her like he expected Eirtaé to move out of the way, cease being a nuisance and get back to her job. Luke was distracted still, doodling away in the room behind them. Eirtaé was smart enough to know that his nearby presence was the only reason that this wasn’t already escalating into a repeat performance of the first time she’d confronted Vader about his past. Much like Anakin, he didn’t take well to pushing. Unlike Anakin, he lashed out violently. Eirtaé had yet to carry lasting bruises, but it was only a question of time until she misstepped. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Vader’s patient was thin on a good day.

“I can teach him. I am teaching him,” Eirtaé replied. “But I don’t know to what end. You could have hired any droid to teach Luke mathematics and as neurotic as Threepio was—” and as insane as Artoo had become while flying with Anakin, “—you easily could have built a droid like him to teach Luke. You don’t necessarily need me here.”

It was a dangerous admittance.

One of the first things she’d been taught in her training had been to make herself valuable. Naboo’s handmaidens were favored kidnapping victims as they almost knew as much as their monarch but weren’t special otherwise.

They were replaceable, and so they had to make themselves special and worth the hassle of keeping around. To tell Darth Vader that she wasn’t an essential tool to his son’s education, the one thing her life currently depended on, was a gamble.

Eirtaé had never been fond of games of chance, but she was running out of cards to play.

“I need to know what I’m preparing him for or I will fail regardless of what I am teaching him because it might not be the lesson he truly needs,” Eirtaé finished her argumentation.

“He is my son,” Vader said as if that were an answer.

Eirtaé wanted to scream in frustration. She wasn’t Padmé, who had mastered the art of reading her husband within a week, or Kenobi, who’d been able to predict Anakin’s every step right up until he hadn’t.

“That is a statement, not an answer I can work with. What exactly do you want for your son?”

She got the sense that he was narrowing his eyes at her, torn between just pushing the nuisance out of the way and giving her an honest reply.

Luke is there, she told herself. As long as Luke was within reach, he wouldn’t hurt her, too afraid of what his son would end up thinking of him for hurting his beloved aunt.

“Luke is the son of your Queen. You are meant to protect him.”

“Protect him from what?” Eirtaé hissed, ensuring to keep her voice down so Luke wouldn’t hear their argument. “Because I was also meant to protect my Queen and we failed because we didn’t know enough. I am loyal to my Queen and loyal to the Royal House of Naboo and that includes the child sitting behind me, but you cannot ask me to act on my loyalty and let me risk failing again at the same time.”

She didn’t think she’d be able to bear it. Eirtaé had been the first to understand why Padmé had been so foolish, for she loved the same way as her dear husband did, completely, entirely.

There were no fleeting crushes, no slow descend into love. It was a fast-paced rush. It had taken so much out of her to warm up to her Queen when she’d entered her court, jealousy still running through her veins, but once Eirtaé had been attached, she’d remained, unable to let go, to risk disappointing her Queen. Anakin Skywalker was just the same, as fiercely attached as Eirtaé could be and as Vader that quality only seemed to have twisted even more.

“You will not fail,” Vader said. “For now, teach him that he is the brightest star in the galaxy, that he was meant for all and everything there ever was and will be.”

All and everything, what a terrifying prospect from the Emperor’s enforcer—

Oh.

Eirtaé paled.

Nobody truly knew what Vader’s relationship to the Emperor was. The Emperor had no heirs by blood or adoption, and their Empire was too new to have established any kind of representative line in writing. Its form was not finished yet and Eirtaé dreaded the day it would be.

But Anakin Skywalker had spoken fondly of the Chancellor, his mentor. If Vader mentioned the Emperor at all in her presence, he called him Master and hissed that title in disdain. It did not resemble the love or adoration it used to carry when speaking of Kenobi.

Eirtaé also knew that it frustrated Vader to no end that he had to keep running missions for the Emperor and leave the two of them alone on Mustafar with nothing more than an upgraded droid squadron to protect them. Certainly, if the man knew that Vader had a child, a potential heir, he would give the man more time away.

Or he’d insist on raising the child himself, in the palace, far away from Vader’s influence and paternal care.

Eirtaé stepped aside, let Vader walk to Luke. The boy immediately perked up when he saw his father. Within the blink of an eye, he was out of his seat and had thrown himself at his father, blabbering away about his day and all he had learned today.

Did Luke know what Vader planned?

As soon as the question arose within her, Eirtaé discarded it. If he knew, he would have said something, made allusions to it. The boy was entirely clueless and for all sense and purpose, Anakin had never been a patient man and Vader wasn’t either.

He wouldn’t wait until the Emperor died of natural causes, he wouldn’t wait until his child was old enough and could understand the burden placed on his head.

He wouldn’t hide Luke away for a moment longer than necessary because his son was his sun, everything he loved and adored, the one pure thing in this galaxy.

Eirtaé swallowed as she watched father and son play, levitate little objects around the room.

All Hail His Imperial Highness, Luke Skywalker.

The Emperor.

#star wars #luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #darth vader #eirtaé #tiny emperor luke au #fanfic #lesbianjaskiers #ask

[jazinerambles]

Persona 2 Innocent Sin Review

I wanted to have some time in between playing the game and writing my thoughts for Persona 2 Innocent Sin. I will be referencing it and other Persona games so there may be some light spoilers for games 2-5. 

I played the psp version of the game on a Playstation TV. I beat the game at 76 hours on the dot. I have not completed most of the theater missions, but I have completed the main story of the game and did do a few sidequests.

My review will be organized in several sections-gameplay, story, music, characters, LGBTQ representation, extra content, wishlist and recommendation.

Gameplay:

Persona 2 Innocent Sin was released in 1999. Therefore plays as a game from 1999. The PSP rerelease updated menus, changed the difficulty, and added all out attack art similar to P3-P5 for the fusion spells. I love the all out attack animation and although the menus got a little cumbersome, it didn’t really impact gameplay for me. 

The biggest complaint about Persona 2 IS is how easy and repetitive it is and the high encounter rate. The battles for the most part are easy and if you set up all your attacks in the first round, you can basically use autoplay until an emergency occurs or you encounter an enemy in which you must change it up. 

I never saw the gameplay as repetitive as others do and I feel those who do only just battle and that’s it. I was constantly trying to get all the fusion spells, max up my personas to trade them for items, try different combinations for the demon negotiations and spread demon rumors to get items, spells, and cards (you need cards to summon new personas in the velvet room.) Demon negotiations also allow you a better look into each of the characters’ personalities and relationships. Events in the game will change how the characters react in these negotiations so it is always nice to go back to them throughout the course of the game. 

The demons you encounter have emotions. I believe they are intrigued, happy, angry and fearsome. Make them happy and they will offer a pact with you and give you free stuff and willing to spread rumors for you. Make them angry they will fight you. Make them fear you they will run away. Make them intrigued and you get the cards needed to summon personas and even more if you already have a pact with them. 

I wanted to return to the big complaint though, the high encounter rate. This was something that I felt hot and cold about. Most of the time this didn’t bother me, because I needed to level up my personas anyway. But when I needed to backtrack and explore further, it did get a little bothersome. 

You can use estoma to avoid enemies weaker than you. It is not a passive skill, so once you have a persona that has it, you have to cast it every time it wears off. At the Mu casino, you can also purchase a disguise kit that does the same thing, but it effects last about the same amount of time and it is ridiculously expensive. Just use estoma. 

As briefly mentioned above, unlike Persona 5 in which you can just catch Personas, in P2IS there are only two ways to get them. You get cards from demon negations, take those cards to the velvet room and then trade them in for a Persona. But you have to enough cards to summon it and the persona has to be 5 cards within your character level. 

You can also talk to the demon painter, for him to make you cards for the specific arcana you want by using blank cards. These are also given through demon negotiations that you have a pact with. 

In P2, ALL your characters are capable of changing out Personas, but their compatibility with different personas varies with their Arcana. 

The other way to get personas is through the story. There are certain actions that you must take to get the prime personas and then the final personas. These personas are character specific and you can’t give them to other characters. 

I wanted to talk about three more things before I move on to the story: rumormongers, fusion spells, and dungeons. 

Persona 2IS is based around rumors. Just like P3 is for the dark hour, P4 the midnight channel, P5 around palaces and so on...

To get certain items and progress the story, you MUST gather and spread rumors. There are five characters throughout the game called rumormongers. They will give you information in exchange for receiving information. You then share this information to the detective agency, pay a fee for them to spread them for you, and there you go. rumor spread. As mentioned earlier, there are also demon specific rumors. 

Fusion spells were something I really enjoyed in this game. Although hearing “Are you ready? Here goes” and “Let’s go everybody” will be stuck in my head for the rest of eternity...

Basically, to create a fusion spell, members in your party require a requisite spell and then that party member is placed in a specific order when taking turns. Once that spell is unlocked, it will let you know if you have the requisite spells and you no longer have to adjust the order of party members. Some of the spells you need to unlock fusion spells are persona specific. The fusion spells are elemental. 

I will not go into weaknesses of elemental spells, I am just going to say that you aren’t “down”’ed like you are in 3-5. 

Finally, my first real pet peeve with this game-the dungeons.

Oh boy. Air raid, AeroSpace and one of the four Zodiac dungeons (I am pretty sure its Eikichi’s) gets ALL my hate. There are cheap gimmicks that make the game artificially hard but only for these dungeons and more so, frustrating. 

But I am not going to go into detail why, and the other dungeons are not bad at all. But play the game and experience these dungeons for yourself. That is all I am going to say about that.

Story:

This section will be nowhere was long as gameplay. The story did not go where I thought it would, but that’s a good thing. I would go in completely blind if you can. The ending definitely surprised me a bit. I think it has one of the best stories of the persona games.

It does not follow a calendar like the later Persona games and time just blends together. By the end of the game, you won't know if a day, week or month passed from the beginning to the end.

Music:

The music is actually really good. It is the reason why I played the game in the first place. Just don’t look at the soundtracks names. Spotify has it available if you live in the US. You are better off listening to the soundtrack because I promise you that most dungeons songs will be cut off due to the frequency of battles. 

Some of my favorite songs are Smile Hirasaka, Unbreakable Tie, Kurosu’s theme, Joker and the Taurus dungeon’s theme.

Characters:

Despite Persona 2 not having social links, I feel like I know these characters better than some of the persona games that do have social links. It is also the only Persona game that I can say without any hesitation that I like the entire main cast. 

I truly love them all, but my favorite would probably be Yukino or Maya. 

Unlike other Personas, the dynamics for Persona 2 IS are different, because not all of your party members are high school students. The adult characters have adult problems, the high school students have high school problems, and all of them have deep psychological problems and abandonment issues that will take years of intense therapy (or Philemeon) to forget.

One of the biggest themes of Persona 2 is confronting your past and learning from the mistakes of your childhood. And the characters do! And by the end of the game you are so proud of how far they have come. And then things happen...

LGBTQ representation

Let me say that I started P2IS off on the wrong foot, but I am still absolutely justified at being upset by it. One of the very first interactions you can have with a NPC is through a very uncomfortable exchange between you, Eikichi and a transman that is pretty transphobic. And to add the icing on the cake, Atlus refers to him as a “weird woman.” 

I was literally going to just stop playing the game like an hour in because of that, but I decided to continue.

What I discovered was a game that has highs and lows when it comes to LGBTQ representation. 

You can play as a bi character who can confess his feelings to men and women. *Stares hard at Persona 4 and Persona 5*

You have a gay character that has an interesting story, character development, is unabashedly gay and isn’t a walking stereotype. Nor is his entire arc centered around gay panic. 

From what I understand the dialogue from the NPC does get better, but I am not holding my breath. 

And the one sapphic kiss scene we get in a Persona game is a kiss of manipulation and not love. So that is a little sad. 

But overall, P2IS does try to make an effort. And it definitely makes a better effort than its successor released almost 2 decades later.

Extra content:

Again, Persona 2 doesn’t have social links or a calendar. Please don’t approach it like the other games where you have to fill up your time between dungeons. It is not a necessity, but there are things you can do. 

Mu is a casino that you can visit that allows you to play mini games to gain coins that you can use to get weapons, rare items, and even unlock personas. I spent a little too much time at Mu....

You can also talk to NPCs to do side missions. Be careful though. You have to do the side missions in a given amount of time or you may not get rewarded for it. Also P2IS is very much like Final Fantasy 9 where it is much better to go to a place sooner than later, because there may not be a later...

You also have the factory which is an optional dungeon that opens up more and more as you progress through the game. 

There is the theater which is a PSP exclusive which has side missions unrelated to the main story that you can play. They are okay.

Wishlist

I hear so many people wanting a remake of P2IS so the game can be more accessible. I am very torn about this. Besides the difficulty and maaybe tweaking the encounter rate a bit, I wouldn’t change a thing. However, I also know that I couldn’t enjoy Shadow of Colossus until the controls were updated. Like I tried and then just gave up. 

I honestly don’t want a remake. I don’t trust the Atlus of today with this game.

I do want it to be acknowledged and more accessible though. 

But if I had to make a wish list, this is what it would be. Again, this would be a “it would be nice list.”

Make the battles harder.

Update cut scenes? I really like the art for the cut scenes already, but would like some more. Maybe keep the drawings but update the CG?

Social side quests. I do not want social links in Persona 2. However, side quests that allow you to learn more about your character like a social link would, would be something I would be very interested in. 

Make the portraits consistent. The art from the original game and the new art put in the PSP game (I am talking about you climax lady) clash so much. Pick one style and stick to it.

I want to fight Ms. Ideal. Let me do it for reasons. Give me a chance to battle her.

I want the option to switch out characters. I love both Jun and Yukki, but I want to be able to play with both. 

Let me skip the animation when I create a new Persona. 

*EDIT*  I can’t believe I forgot this and feel awful I did, but I do think they should keep the trans NPC, but change the dialogue and the the name. It isn’t the NPC that is the problem but the dialogue and actions. Otherwise, I think it would be ok. 

I think that’s it.

Recommendation:

So should you play Persona 2 IS? Short answer, yes. Long answer is that it is complicated. In a few months the game will no longer be accessible for psp consoles. The physical version of the game is ridiculously expensive. You will have to accept the fact this game is on psp and its sequel’s psp version never came to English speaking markets.

You may not like the graphics, gameplay, or that it doesn’t feel like the later persona games. And as much as I love this game, that is alright. You do you. But I truly do think you are missing out on a great game. So if you have the opportunity to do so, yeah absolutely give it a shot. 

#Persona 2 #Persona series #persona 3 #Persona 4 #Persona 5

[sunsetika]

brainfart 1 - oisuga

oikawa meets suga after he comes home from japan. despite the uncertainty of their relationship, they could not help but fall deeper and deeper into each other.

I’m not sure if I’m ready to commit to a multi-chaptered fic just yet. The last time I wrote one was 2011 LMAO.

Hence, I’ll just type out an outline I’ve been wanting to work on for a while, now. Will I get to it? Maybe, maybe not. But dang, I want this to come to life so bad.

I kind of have the start down, but the in-betweens: not so much.

Sooooo if ya wanna see the outline, read away!

Setting: Winter 2022 (starts December), Tokyo + Miyagi

Oikawa: 28, still part of the Argentinian National Team

Sugawara: 28, teaches elementary students at a school in Sendai

[1]

Nearing Christmas, Oikawa was sent on a forced break after injuring his knee in a game. 

While his knee managed to heal, he overworked himself to the bone-his knee injury being the breaking point, Coach Blanco insisted that he needed this in order to come back a stronger player.

Oikawa decided to fly home to Japan. He decided to stay in a hotel in Tokyo for a brief period, enjoying the city’s bustling yuletide season.

One Friday night, while walking down the streets, he bumps into Sugawara. Suga mentions that he was just about to buy a drink and invites Oikawa.

They catch up, flirt, drink glasses of beer as the night draws to a close.

They touch upon Daichi getting married soon, and Iwaizumi settling down with a girlfriend, and kind of relish in heartbreak.

Suga mentions he was in Tokyo since he headed straight here as soon as he was able to leave the school, since he was incredibly stressed.

Oikawa takes Suga back to his hotel and they spend the night there (yes, they do).

Suga rises up early to head back to Sendai, since he has to grade some papers back in the school, despite it being a Saturday.

When it was sundown, Suga was surprised to see Oikawa waiting for him by the school gate. He pulls Suga and manages to drag him into Seijoh, sneaking in. Oikawa admits the small crush he had on Suga, while Suga returns the confession.

[2]

Here’s the muddy in-between lol

Suga & Oikawa meet up time to time, whether it was for a date or for a hookup. They never put a label.

Though they don’t live together, Oikawa stays at Suga’s apartment for long periods of time.

Oikawa helps coach Lil Tykes Volleyball Classroom again.

Suga receives an invitation to Daichi and Michimiya’s wedding, sending him to tears once more. Thankfully, Oikawa is there to help him through. Oikawa says ‘I love you,’ but Sugawara doesn’t say it back.

They grow more and more attached to each other, scaring Suga - he can’t go back to Argentina with Tooru (yes, first name basis now!!), and he doesn’t want to make him stay in Japan for him.

Oikawa knows this is a dead end, since he can’t make Koushi (!!!!!) stop teaching, since it’s his passion.

Long distance relationship is out of the question, since they’re not even in a relationship in the first place!!

One morning: “I want to be selfish, Tooru. I want to want you to stay.” Suga cries. “But I can’t bring myself to. Ever.”

Daichi sends the invitation to the wedding. Suga informs him to reserve a seat for 1.

Suga arrives alone at the wedding. He was happy for Daichi, but he was torn: he misses Oikawa, but is also glad that he decided not to bring him along, since bringing a plus 1 to a wedding means serious things.

To his surprise, Oikawa shows up (he contacted Daichi secretly). Suga is happy, and they dance together.

They continue to go out, being more and more attached to each other as the months pass by, but they don’t put a label on anything.

Oikawa and Suga finally tries to define “the relationship” - there is none. There doesn’t have to be any, since they know it won’t work out. Oikawa gets ready to go back to playing volleyball. They promise not to wait for each other, to move on. They’ll try to keep in touch.

The two agree to not see each other off when Oikawa leaves. They say their final goodbyes at Koushi’s doorstep.

Oikawa takes one last look before entering the departure area, hoping to find Suga, feeling a pain in his chest when he doesn’t.

Oikawa enters the departure area, just as Suga arrives outside, panting, but Oikawa was no where to be seen. He was too late.

[3]

Lots of time skips.

Suga and Oikawa try to keep in touch with their social media, but this dwindles as their schedules get busier.

Oikawa never settles down, but continues to hook up with different people. While he wasn’t trying to fill a void and simply enjoys the company, he keeps going back to Suga, wanting to see him, to feel him once again, and again, and again.

Though they don’t talk anymore, Oikawa constantly checks Suga’s Facebook, even liking some photos as he passes by them.

Suga tries to settle down. He eventually finds himself a girlfriend, whom he loves very much. They decided to marry, and they do. He looks at their wedding photo on his social media, staring long and hard at the notification: Liked By Tooru Oikawa

After three years of marriage, Suga’s wife files a divorce. Although Suga tried to fight for their marriage, his wife points out that she knows: she knows there’s someone else in his heart. She knows he’s never gotten over him. She knows. 

“And it’s okay.” She says. “I know you still love him.”

Suga’s (now ex-) wife tells him she understands admits that she still loves her best friend and wants to be with her.

His wife argues that they only married for the sake of tradition which hurts Suga, since he does still love his wife, but comes to terms with what was really missing - Oikawa. He eventually signs the papers, and divorce peacefully.

“I hope you’ll be happy someday, Koushi.” She says before bidding goodbye. “With Tooru.”

Oikawa notices the lack of updates from Suga - he probably lives a quiet life, now. Is his wife beautiful? I hope she’s kind to him. I wonder if they have kids. They’ll probably be as beautiful as Koushi.

It’s what he deserves.

[4]

Year 2037. Coach Jose Blanco passes away, and Oikawa is devastated and, for the first time in a while, unsure.Maybe he should coach. Maybe he should stop playing volleyball and live a normal life. Then, he decides that he needs another reset. Boarding the plane, he posts a photo on his social media: Going back home.

Suga's in the break room when he sees Oikawa’s post. He’s teaching high school now, and is the adviser and co-coach for the school’s volleyball club. He quickly scrambles, asking one of the teachers to substitute for him - it’s an emergency, he says. He hops onto a cab and heads to Sendai Airport, heart racing. I don’t even know what his exact arrival time is. What if it’s not in Sendai Airport? What if he comes home with a family? Would he even be glad to see me?

He gets off the cab and nervously waits on a bench across the entrance. Suga keeps checking Oikawa’s social media for updates, but there was none. Why can’t I message him?

Hours pass by and it’s already 10 in the evening when the next flock of people come out. Suga keeps his eyes peeled, and then - there he is.

Oikawa comes into the clearing, looking around. There’s no one with him, but Suga’s heart drops. He runs to Oikawa, tears threatening to spill.

“Koushi? What -”

Without shame, a crying Suga kisses Oikawa. After recovering from his shock, he returns the kiss, a sigh of relief leaving Suga’s lips.

After the kiss, they stand in each others arms, panting.

O: “What are you doing here?”  S: “Waiting for you you idiot - wait, you’re not married, are you? Oh my god, what have I done -” O: “I’m not, but you... You’re married, right?” S: [smiles and shows his bare left hand] “I’m not.”

Oikawa laughs, feeling all his emotions bubble out all at once. He spends the night at Suga’s once more, relishing in his lover’s arms, happy.

O: “I still don’t know what’ll happen from now on.” S: “We’ll make it work.” O: “I don’t know if I’m staying in Japan.” S: “We’ll make it work.” O: “Are you sure? I can’t take you away from what you love, Koushi. What if I decide to go back to Argentina -” S: “We’ll make it work.”

Suga holds Oikawa in a loving embrace, and Oikawa sighs at the warmth. Suga looks him in the eyes with reassurance and determination. “Besides...”

“It’s you, Tooru...” Suga plants a kiss on Oikawa’s forehead. “You’re the one I love.”

x

Sorry it’s so long & wordy HAHA.

Will edit this from time to time I guess??????????????? Or take this down when I decide to actually write a full fic??????????????????

#brainfart #oisuga #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq!! #sugawara koushi #oikawa tooru #angst???? #drama?????? #all in my head tho #IDK IF I CAN TURN THIS INTO A FULL BLOWN FIC #BUT I WANT TO #IF ANYONE WANTS TO HELP ME TURN THIS INTO A FIC HIT ME UP LMAO #ikaposts #ikawrites

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Years Wiser

Years Wiser Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Toshinko Summary: Midoriya Inko and Yagi Toshinori may be grown adults with grown adult problems and grown adult lives, but that doesn’t mean they handle all of it like that. Age is most relative, after all. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Midoriya Inko felt silly. Incredibly silly. Why was she sneaking about like some kind of hooligan? After all, what did she have to be timid or shy about? It wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong! No, not at all! She was just your average woman out doing average things and-! She flinched and darted around a corner when she heard an incredibly familiar laugh coming from the other side of the column she was ducked behind. “When you say it like that, Todoroki-Kun, you make it sound like I’m careless!” Izuku’s voice was light and filled with mirth, causing her to peer around the corner at him, staying just out of his line of sight.

Todoroki-Kun and Iida-Kun were walking to his left while Uraraka-Chan and Asui-Chan were walking to his right, if her memory served right. Iida-Kun made some kind of grand, exaggerated hand gesture. “While his wording may seem blunt, it is also incredibly accurate!”

“Especially since that’s exactly what I meant,”

“W-What? But that’s so mean to say! I’m not careless!”

“You act carelessly because you care so much, kero,” Asui-Chan chimed in quietly, poking the corner of her own mouth thoughtfully.

Izuku let out a small, distressed noise in response and a fond smile stretched across her face. It filled her with warmth to see her precious baby finding his way in life and finding new friends to help support and encourage him. She knew that it had been hard for him when he’d been thought to be quirkless, how he’d been bullied and had only a few scarce friends he could rely on. But as he adapted to his powers and grew, it was clear he was leaving the past behind him. It was enough to make her lower lip tremble and her eyes mist up! But, she reminded herself, that part of this was only thanks to the man she was actually here to see. She peered to make sure Izuku was distracted by his friends again, their voices starting to taper off, before turning and continuing on her path.

Behind her, she didn’t notice the large brown eyes watching her curiously. “Huh,” Uraraka mumbled to herself, tilting her head.

“Hm? What is it Ochako-Chan, kero?” Tsu asked politely.

“Oh! Sorry, I thought I saw Midoriya-San for a second!”

“Huh? Mom? What would she be doing here?” he mumbled quietly, turning around to peer over his shoulder. Thankfully enough, Inko had already disappeared around the corner out of sight.

Elsewhere, Inko floundered her way through trying to navigate the UA campus. She’d only visited a handful of times both since and following the construction of the dorms. She encountered a polite enough young man with purple hair who was able to direct her to the faculty office, making sure to thank him several times and bow for good measure. She adjusted her grip on the circular holder in her arms and adjusted the strap of her purse, reaching inside to make sure that the little gift box tucked inside wasn’t visible. Her cheeks immediately flooded with color as she recalled what she was doing here and Mitsuki’s remarks that morning.

Midoriya Inko had never had any real interest in Pro Heroes before. She appreciated the work they did, but that all changed when Izuku was accepted to UA. Suddenly, she was being dragged into the very real life of a Hero relative. It had been horrifying and heartbreaking and difficult at first. She remembered having so many panic attacks fretting over her beloved son - her only baby - being constantly placed in life or death scenarios and constantly breaking himself. She had been torn for so long over it all, over voicing her concerns. She wanted to do better for Izuku, to support and encourage him the way she hadn’t when he needed her before, but there was still the instinct in her to protect him. He was her whole world, her pride and joy, her moon and stars. She didn’t want to take his dreams from him again, not when they were so close. She had cowered and then she had lashed out in anger and then she came to acceptance. It was a roller coaster to say the least.

And from that all, she came to meet All Might, the Pro that had started it all for her son. And, much more importantly, she met Yagi Toshinori.

The man was an anomaly when she met him. She was used to seeing the large, muscle-bound form of him on television and the posters decorating her son’s walls. But when he appeared he was broken and bandaged, seeming like a wisp of the man so revered. She expected him to be haughty and confident and assert with her refusal to let her son continue on. She had expected a fight to break out. But, he had left her startled when he instead acknowledged his fault, bowed his whole form to her floor, pleaded with her to allow Izuku back into his tutelage and vowed to give his life for the boy. In that moment, she saw the first glimpse of who he was outside of the mask he wore, saw what lurked inside him deep down.

And she had been unable to reject that. Her whole life she had been vulnerable and breakable. How could she tear this man down further at his lowest point?

And at first, that was all there was to it. She had allowed her baby bird to leave the nest they’d made and take flight. It had been hard, being alone in the apartment most of the time. She had some part time work to do at a nearby library but that only filled the void up so much. The first call came in one late Thursday evening, as she was figuring out what to make herself for dinner, from a number she didn’t recognize. She chanced answering it, a brief part of her wondering if it was her ex-husband calling to check on things. Maybe he had caught wind of their son’s newfound abilities from all the way across the ocean and wanted to try and revive that relationship, she didn’t know. “Hello?”

“Ah, hello, Midoriya-San. I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time,” Yagi Toshinori said, his tone even albeit a bit awkward.

Red alarms went off in her mind. “What has happened? Is my Izuku okay? Did he hurt himself with his Quirk again?”

“N-No, no! Young Midoriya is doing just fine!” he answered her just as frantically. She released a small whimper of relief as she let her body sag into one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m so sorry, I should have thought this through better. I just… I wanted to call and offer to give you weekly updates on his progress.”

She blinked before feeling a small smile turn up on her lips. “I’d like that. Thank you, All Might,”

“Oh, no need to call me by that name! Just Yagi will be fine, going forward,” he said with a relieved chuckle.

And so began the weekly calls between them. At first they stayed to the topic of Izuku and his progress; how he was adapting to his Quirk, how his control was improving, how his grades were looking for his classes and the like. For a good few months that was all it was, until Izuku’s progress was steady enough that her worries were mostly abated and slowly new topics started to slip into the conversation. They learned of a shared adoration for silly competition shows centered around cooking, baking and other such things. Yagi confessed that, despite not being a particularly skilled cook himself, he always liked observing the process and feedback that was offered. She then invited him over one night for dinner and a season finale of something, and a new tradition started up. They’d try to get together once every week or two and watch the latest episodes of this or that together.

It was all very simple and domestic and something she had missed dearly. She had missed having someone around her own age to converse with and watch shows with. She had missed sitting on the patio with a cup of warm tea, sprinkling an amicable silence with silly anecdotes from either of their times. She had missed all of it so very much and was so grateful to have befriended Yagi Toshinori. So, when she realized that his birthday - known because of Izuku - she had decided to get him a little something to show her gratitude. She had gone out and looked for a nice blend of orchid oolong tea to gift him, as well as taking the time to bake him a dark pearl chiffon cake. She had noticed that he tended to prefer his desserts with a bit of bite and tartness to them.

Bakugo Mitsuki had been over for lunch while she’d been working on the cake earlier that day, humming to herself as she skittered to and fro in her tiny kitchen, pouring the batter into the tin carefully. The blonde woman had a knowing grin on her lips as she watched her, leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand and leaning heavily on it. “It’s been a while since you’ve done some baking. Who is it for?” she asked conversationally, though there was a certain underlying tone in her voice.

Inko would have noticed it if she’d been giving her all her attention. “For a friend’s birthday today. I went and picked up a lovely tea to pair with it, too,” she said giddily, leaning over to carefully slide the tin into the oven.

“Ah, that tall blonde man, yeah? Seemed kinda familiar,” she mumbled before pushing up and heading in as well. She plucked the up the drained mixing bowl and spoon from the counter. “Anyway, I’m impressed and proud, Inko! It’s about damn time you got back in the game!”

“Back in the…? What do you mean?” she asked innocently.

The other raised an eyebrow while swirling the spoon in the bowl to get a good amount of excess batter on it. “You’re making this for your boyfriend, yeah?”

The green haired woman let out a loud squeal, the noise akin to an overheated tea kettle, while her face turned dark red. “W-What! N-N-No! Y-YYa-Yagi-K-Kun and I aren’t-!” She cut herself off to hide her face with her hands.

“Yagi-Kun…? Oh! All Might!” she hummed, lifting the spoon up and licking some batter from it. She let out a contented little sigh at the flavor. “Ah, amazing as usual, Inko. I have to say, the man has good taste; in desserts and in women.”

“M-M-Mit-Mitsuki! It isn’t like that!”

Ruby red eyes blinked slowly as they watched her. “But you want it to be, right? And so does he, if those looks he casts your way are anything to go by,” she said, waving the spoon about as she spoke, dripping a little bit of batter on to her arm.

Inko whimpered and slumped against the counter, her mind whirling. Had Yagi-Kun been looking at her like that? No, no! There was absolutely no way! Even if he wasn’t still working or able to appear as the man the public adored, this was still the All Might they were talking about! He was so well known and well loved he could have anyone he wanted! And even without the muscle, he had so many endearing qualities about him! He was kind but also bashful and overly polite, which was charming in its own way! And then there was that smile of his that, even now, still had this warmth to it that was comforting! And his eyes were such a lovely shade of blue, like a cloudless sky in early spring! He wouldn’t have to settle for someone like her; someone who was plump and anxious and meek and was raising her son all alone and-!

Her thoughts were cut off when a brief flash of pain flared up from the back of her head, making her yelp.

“I know what you were doing in that little head of yours, sweetheart, and you’re gonna stop it,” Mitsuki snorted, picking the abandoned spoon back up. She took another lick at it before pointing it at Inko. “You and Hi-Shithead haven’t been a thing for over seven years. The guy comes and visits you frequently. You two have similar hobbies and interests. He looks after your son better than that deadbeat ass that knocked you up. And you’re an absolute darling, Inko. You’re compassionate and affectionate and thoughtful. Any man would be lucky to have you on his arm; Pro Hero or not. So, what are you stalling for?” she prompted evenly.

She hadn’t known how to answer that. And, even now, with her heart hammering so hard it was rattling her body, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps it really was the fear of rejection, of being told she wasn’t good enough? That she wasn’t worth the time to invest? And what if he didn’t reciprocate? What if it ruined everything they already had, and she lost one of the few friends she had? That was a terrifying thought in and of itself.

Yagi-Kun and the time they spent together meant so much to her. She didn’t want to ruin that over what was most likely a crush.

“Excuse me,” An annoyed, deep voice barked at her, causing her to shriek and throw her arms up. She barely managed to use her Quirk to call the cake back to herself before it fell to the ground, taking a deep breath as she meekly peered over her shoulder at the form addressing her. Their appearance was dark and shaggy, as if they either didn’t have the time to put themselves together better or didn’t care enough to. She was inclined to think it was the former, though. He looked her up and down once before letting out a small hum. “You must be related to the problem child.”

She plastered on a tight smile at that, already certain she knew what he meant. “Midoriya Inko, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for taking care of my Izuku,” she said as she bowed.

He stared at her before turning to reach for a nearby door. “The student dorms are on the other side of the campus, but he may be doing some training with his friends. The grounds are-!”

“U-Um, actually!” she squeaked out, wilting a bit at how he stared at her for interrupting him. She adjusted the carrier in her hand again. “I wasn’t here for-! T-That is to say, um… I’m actually looking for All Might!” she managed to choke out, her eyes skirting about the tiled floor like mad.

“All Might?” he repeated. She nodded without lifting her head. He threw the door he’d been reaching for open and stepped inside. “All Might! There’s something going on with the problem child again!”

There was a clatter inside. “W-What? Is Young Midoriya okay? Is he in the infirmary? Or is he with Principal Nezu?” Yagi-s familiar voice asked frantically, perking Inko up and making her giggle a bit. She couldn’t blame him for the reaction.

She carefully stepped a bit closer, standing in the doorway and meekly waving at him. He was standing at his desk, hands on the surface as he looked ready to take off running. There were a few other teachers gathered in the area, reassuring her that she was at the faculty office like she’d wanted, but she could tell that even the ones that weren’t looking at them were paying attention. “Hello,” she said meekly.

“Midoriya-San? It’s good to see you, but what are you doing here?” he asked worriedly, carefully stepping around his desk and walking over to meet her.

She held the carrier up, taking a small breath to relax herself some and knowing that it would do nothing. “I, um… W-Well, today is your birthday and… I thought… I wanted to give you something! But I wasn’t really sure what kind of things you may want or need, so I thought that I could bake you something. It’s a cake! Oh, but that may have been obvious! A-And I did get a small something to go with that, too!” she rambled, reaching into her purse to hold out the little gift box where the tea tin rested.

She cautioned a glance up at him and was stunned to see his own cheeks tinted pink, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck shyly. But, a shy and genuine smile was turning up on his lips. “You’re incredible,” he breathed, the blush going darker.

She giggled and averted her gaze. “It’s nothing. Just… Just a thank you, for being you,” she said, holding his eye as she spoke.

His blue eyes widened, filling with an emotion she couldn’t place, before his smile brightened even more. “Would you like to come in for a while? I’ll start some water for the tea and we can have the cake together,” he suggested, offering one of his hands to her while ushering her inside with the other.

She nodded. “I’d like that very much, Yagi-Kun,”

#My Hero Academia #Toshinko #Inko Midoriya #Yagi Toshinori #my fics #Wow its been almost a year since I last posted a one shot here #Whoops! #Glad I broke the stream for these two because they are precious #And I would die for them both #God this was fun to write! #Also Mitsuki ships it

[winterisakiller]

Get Better - Chapter Six

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 6/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do. This story will update on Thursdays.

Tag list: @tinchentitri @nonsensicalobsessions @noplacelikehome77 @blacksuitofdoom @theheartofpenelope @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @wolfsmom1 @theoneanna @just-the-hiddles

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER SIX

 Without quite realizing it, opening night was upon them. True, it was technically the first night of previews, but still an opening night nonetheless. Tom found himself pacing around the dressing room, mumbling his lines to himself under his breath. He knew the words, backwards and forwards by now, hell he could most likely recite them in his sleep (the fact that he might just be doing so and never know it was one he willingly ignored). But all his preparation did little to calm the nerves boiling inside of him. It was a good thing, he supposed, still getting nervous before the start of a show. But damned if it wasn’t inconvenient.

 He’d barely been able to stomach the thought of lunch before coming in that afternoon and had settled on a tea (which was supposed to be soothing though, given his current state of agitation, he had his doubts) and a few biscuits that had been left over from the crew’s breakfast. They had settled dubiously and the fact that he had to eat during the night’s performance did little to calm the churning in his gut. And just then the thought of dinner was one he hadn’t dared to contemplate.

 Beside and behind him the last minute hustle and bustle of a show racing towards curtains up exploded. Opening nights were always hectic, it didn’t matter how small or large a production; everyone always seemed to end up running about as though they’d collectively lost their minds. He’d found it amusing, how some things never seemed to change.

 “And just how much caffeine have you had today?”

 Tom all but jumped out of his skin as the familiar voice echoed from behind him. He spun around, his face contorted in alarmed confusion which faded as his eyes settled on Cath. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and her face was lit with fizzing laughter. He fixed what he hoped was an reproachful glare on his face, though the way her eyes sparkled told him it hadn’t been as effective as he’d hoped. “Apparently not enough to keep me from losing ten years off my lifespan.”

 Cath only laughed harder, shoving a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “God, Tom. Your face.” It took her several minutes to collect herself and Tom watched on, torn between amusement and annoyance. She waved her hand, buying herself time to calm. “Sorry…Sorry. Okay.” She took a deep breath and motioned to the opened chair before her workstation. “Let’s go put on your face, can’t have you disappointing your adoring public.”

 “Oh yes, can’t disappoint the adoring masses.” He snorted a laugh and followed her back towards the workstation.

 “Well you’ve come to the right place.” She patted the back of the chair and waited as he quickly settled in. Cath grabbed a brush and the small container of powder foundation from the workstation top, and settling between it and Tom, began applying it in quick, efficient strokes. “Nervous?” She asked, her attention focused on her task, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

 Tom chuckled, “Always.” He let out a barely audible sigh. “It doesn’t matter how often I’ve done this, I always seem to find myself a mess of jitters right before curtain call.” He fidgeted in his seat, fingers tapping against his bent knees and left foot bouncing against the floor.

 Cath smiled, “That’s a good thing, I suppose. Means you care about the work you’re about to do. And it would certainly explain why you can’t seem to sit still.” She quirked an eyebrow at him and the fidgeting ceased. A sheepish grin spread across Tom’s face. “Thank you, I would rather not be tarred and feathered for accidently stabbing you in the eye with a brush. That would go over terribly should I use this production as a reference for future work.”

 Tom burst out laughing. “Heaven forbid.”

 She simply shook her head, continuing with her work.

 “Alright,” she announced several minutes later. “That’s your face on. Let’s see if I can tame that mass you call hair before you’re whisked away.” The mass in question was in reasonable order, over all, despite the steady that had fallen throughout the day. He silently thanked whatever deity had kept Bobby from repeatedly his rain and mud soaked mayhem. That would have been the last thing he needed, today of all days. A quick comb through and a small amount of product later, Cath declared him, “as good as I can get.”

 Tom smiled and pushed himself from the chair. “Thank you, milady,” he murmured, bowing slightly. He stood for a moment, indecision coursing through him; the desire to pull her into his arms to show, in a tangible way, his gratefulness for her kind understanding. Fuck it. He pulled Cath into a quick hug before he could let himself think better of it.  

 Cath laughed, a rush of scarlet blossoming across her face, and pushed on his arm. “Alright, Romeo, to the stage with you.”

 Tom bowed once more, smiling brightly before jogging towards the door and down the narrow stairs. He came to a stop at the side of the stage; Charlie and Zawe to his right and left respectively, each waiting for their cues. Tom found himself once again bouncing from foot to foot, his mind flashing back to the woman he’d left upstairs and the hug they’d shared. The hug had been something he normally would not have thought twice about; he was a tactile man, always had been, and such displays of affection where almost second nature. But he couldn’t shake the way she’d felt in his arms; she was small and fit almost perfectly into his embrace, her warmth sinking into him and god he hadn’t wanted to let her go.

 Good God, this is stupid, he groaned to himself. This was stupid and pointless. Cath was a wonderful woman; kind, funny, smart, and affectionate. She was an absolute delight and they’d gotten on well. She constantly kept him on his toes and god, it had been far too long since he’d had that. He was proud to consider her a friend. But the feel of her. He shook himself, these were not the sorts of thoughts he needed going into the night’s performance. Head in the game, Hiddleston. Head in the game. He took a deep breath and once the cue was given, made his way onto the stage and settled into his waiting chair. Lights dimming and music playing, Tom let himself slip into Robert’s skin and watched, from the corner of his eye as the curtain lifted.

                                                             —

 Cath stood feeling as thought she’d been rooted to the spot, watching Tom fly from the room. She could still sense the strength and warmth of his arms around her; an involuntary shiver running through her. He was an affectionate person, she’d noticed that right away the first time they’d met. And he hadn’t ever meant anything more by it than simple affection. She knew this, but god sometimes it drove her mad.

 It was ridiculous, she was being completely and utterly ridiculous. Cath quickly shook her head and turned back to her workstation, focusing instead on straightening the surface. She just needed to get her head back in the game. Mechanically, she cleaned her brushes and placed them back in their holders. She wiped the surface of the station and once everything was back in working order, she dropped into the chair before it and sighed.

 He hadn’t meant anything by the hug, Cath understood that quite clearly. He was simply excited and nervous and she’d offered him kindness and an open ear. Thinking more on that stupid, seconds long hug, would be nothing short of folly. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

 “God, I am an idiot.”

 “Could have told you that,” Lorna’s voice echoed from her left. Cath leapt out of the chair, hand clasped over her heart. Lorna let out a bark of a laugh at Cath’s expression. “You alright?”

 “No, I bloody well am not. You scared me half to death.” Cath attempted a scowl but it came off as more of a grimace and she groaned.

 “I’m surprised you didn’t try to cop a feel there, boss. Cause that man there,” Lorna tipped her head towards the doorway Tom had recently vacated and chuckled, “I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on that.”

 Cath shot her a look. “Something tells me John wouldn’t be best pleased with that.”

 Lorna laughed harder, shaking her head. “We both have our lists…He’ll live.”

 “Lorn, what am I going to do with you?”

 She shot Cath a pointed look of her own. “Explain why you aren’t trying to climb that man like a tree.”

 “That is preposterous,” Cath exclaimed, ignoring the shift in her friend’s eyebrows. “And so what if I find him attractive, it’s not going to happen. He’s just being friendly. You’ve seen the man, he’s like that with everyone.”

 Lorna snorted. “I call bullshit on that one. Yes, he’s a friendly guy, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching.” She lowered herself onto Cath’s open chair, crossing her legs over the side.

 Cath rolled her eyes. “Even if that is true, chances are nothing will come of it.”

 Another smirk. “Not with that attitude, it won’t.”

 Cath let out an exasperated sigh and turned her attention back to her workstation, making sure her pack of make-up removing wipes were close at hand. “You are impossible.”

 Lorna grinned. “Aw, well thank you. I do try my best.”

 “And ever so modest.” Chuckling, Cath shook her head. “Alright, let’s going sneak downstairs and see what all of the fuss has been about.”

 Jumping out of the chair, Lorna smiled and pulled Cath towards the door. “You just want to see your lover boy in action.”

 “He is not my lover boy,” Cath insisted with a scoff as the jogged down the stairs. “He’s not even my friend…He’s a work acquaintance.” Lorna snorted behind her. “A friendly one,” she stipulated.  

 “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs and turned down a short hallway. Another quick turn lead them to side stage.

 Cath spun around and whispered, “And I think you should stick to your day job.”

 “Someone’s a bit touchy.”

 “Shh.”

 Lorna laughed, covering her mouth when the noise earned her a glare from one of the stage hands. Cath chuckled, earning her a cold look from Lorna. She shrugged and turned her attention back towards the stage.

 There was something absolutely fascinating about the simple set up of the production. The clever use of lighting, music, and stage presence only enhanced its emotional power. While she had seen bits and pieces of the show during rehearsals, this would be the first time she would see it all the way through.

 Cath found her eyes drawn, almost involuntarily towards Tom, as he moved around the stage. She’d known he was talented, had seen it years ago with Coriolanus, but there was something powerful in his subtle portrayal of Robert. His cool anger, biting sarcasm, and his quiet vulnerability. Robert wasn’t a kind man but there was a depth to him Tom wove into his performance which completely captivated Cath.

 She felt her heart melt as she watched Tom carried the small girl who played his and Zawe’s daughter from the stage. He held the small girl so carefully, cradled against his chest, and offered Cath a warm smile as he passed. She returned it, wrapping her arms around herself. As he passed again she noted, with a flutter she refused to acknowledge, that there was a stray curl, sticking out just slightly. Yes, she reasoned, he really is going to be trouble.

                                                        —

 Tom smiled, waving one last time as he followed Charlie and Zawe from the stage. It was a rush he knew he’d never tire of, that feeling he got standing on a stage in front of a crowd. His skin prickled and he felt he could run laps around the theatre. He laughed to himself, there really was nothing like this.

 “Nicely done!” Lorna’s voice called over the general hubbub of the backstage madness. Tom turned, jogging over to the corner were Lorna and Cath stood, smiling brightly.  

 “You were brilliant, all three of you,” Cath added, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze.  

 Tom grabbed Cath into a quick hug, spinning her around as she squealed and hit at his arm. “Thank you.” He released her and pulled Lorna into a quick embrace as well. “God, I can’t even begin to describe how…” Tom trailed off, unable to find the words to finish his thought. He felt…jangly.

 Cath nodded and, out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw the frank look Lorna shot at her. He filed that away for future processing, knowing that with his current state of post-show jitters, nothing would make a great deal of sense. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant something.

 “Alright,” Cath called, clapping her hands together once. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready to head out into the waiting crowds.”

 Tom chuckled and sighed. He loved meeting fans, honestly he did. Without their support, his career would mostly definitely be very different. And he was genuinely curious to see and hear their response to the show. But still, stage door could be, and in the past very much had been, chaotic and disconcerting. Things, he hoped, would be better this time around. There were more strict limits in place as to what would be asked of him and, as much as it killed him, limits to his time out there as well.

 If it had been at all feasible, Tom would certainly stay out until he’d had the chance to meet everyone. But it simply wasn’t realistic and, after how sick he’d gotten during his Coriolanus run, Tom couldn’t take that risk. And he knew people would complain; someone always complained and he simply couldn’t please everyone. That had been a hard lesson, but one he’d learned all the same.

 He followed Cath up the stairs, finding Zawe and Charlie changed and readying themselves to head out. “Nicely done, mate,” Charlie called, clapping a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “You didn’t crack once during the dining scene.”

 Tom laughed heartily. “Not for lack of trying. You are an ass, my friend.”

 Charlie shrugged, “That’s half the fun. Besides neither of us got the girl in the end.” They both laughed heartily.

 Zawe simply shook her head, but chuckled all the same. “You couldn’t handle me anyway,” she shot back, grinning. “Alright, I’m heading out. Wish me luck.”  She grabbed her coat, blew them both exaggerated kisses, and headed down the stairs towards the stage door.

 “Well that’s you lot told,” Cath snorted, shaking her head.

 “Is that always the case?” Charlie sighed and grabbed his coat. “Well, I’m heading out now too. See you in a bit?”

 Tom nodded. “Yep, let me just get this mess off me and I’ll be down.” Charlie waved again and trotted down the stairs.

 “Mess?” Cath echoed with a quirk of her brow.

 He flushed. “You know what I mean.”

 “Yeah, yeah, Hiddleston. Get your ass in this chair and I’ll take that mess off you so you can go and make nice with the masses.” Her tone was firm but Tom could clearly see the humor shining in her eyes.

 Tom settled himself in the chair and sat as still as he possibly could (which to be fair wasn’t very as his show high had not quite subsided) so Cath could remove his make-up. She stood between his spread knees and he tried, with limited success, to not think about the warmth radiating from her legging clad form. She braced her hand on his shoulder, murmuring an apology, as she worked to wipe the last of what he had deemed ‘his mask’ off. The soft scent of something light and almost floral hit him. It wasn’t a perfume, far too subtle...Perhaps a body wash? He hadn’t the first clue. But it clung to the skin of her arms as she wiped his forehead and along his jaw.

 He let loose the breath he was holding as she pushed back and smiled down at him. “Well I think that about does it. You’re free to change and mingle.”

 Blinking twice to regain control of himself, Tom plastered on what he hoped was a pleasant smile and cleared his throat. “Thank you.” His voice sounded almost breathy and he cursed himself for his lack of control. Her eyes locked on his. Neither spoke for what felt like an age. It took all he had to keep himself from reaching out and pulling her against him…

 “Cath! You still in here?” Lorna’s voice echoed from the hallway, her steps clear and loud on the landing outside.

 They leapt apart, Cath narrowly avoiding collision with the workstation behind her. “Shit.” The curse fell from her lips in a frustrated whisper that Tom found fascinated him. He reached to steady her.

 Cath nodded, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Yes Lorna, I’m still here.”

 Lorna rounded the corner, pausing in the doorway, a knowing smirk on her face. “Oh…Well hello there, Tom.”

 He cleared his throat. “Hi. Sorry, I’ve been monopolizing her time.” Tom inclined his head towards Cath, who had regained some of her composure.

 “Is there something I can do for you, Lorn?”

 Lorna’s eyes sparkled with something that Tom wasn’t sure he understood…or wanted to understand. “Well…”

 Cath narrowed her eyes. “Lorn…”  

 “Just seeing if you’d checked out yet.” Lorna held her hands out before her in a supplicated manner but the grin she still wore tugged at something in Tom’s mind.

 Cath shook her head. “Nah, still a bit left to do. You can go if you’d like. Maggie’s got most everything set for tomorrow and once Tom here is changed back into his street clothes all I have to do is press the suit and hang it up.”

 Tom cleared his throat, “I’m guessing that would be my cue.” He pushed himself to his feet, smiling softly at Cath and then quickly at Lorna, and headed back towards the changing area. “Oh,” he called turning back around. “Zawe, Charlie, and I are heading to The Queens Head after we’re done stage door as a sort of mini celebration of our first show. You’re welcome to come with…You and Lorna, if you want.”

 “Oh,” Cath started and Tom felt his heart seize. She didn’t want to…

 “What my friend, here is trying to say,” Lorna jumped in, shooting a pointed look at Cath. “Is we’d love to.”

 “Yes, sounds wonderful,” Cath echoed, shooting Lorna a look of her own.

 A weight lifted from his chest and Tom felt himself relax. He smiled brightly and ducked behind the partition, grabbing his folded clothes from the chair in the corner. Quickly, he shed his suit, hanging on the waiting clothing rack and pulled on his jeans and blue jumper. Sliding his feet into his boots, Tom wandered back into the main room. Cath and Lorna were talking in lowered voices near Cath’s workstation and paid him little mind.

 Tom cleared his throat, “I’ll see you both later then?”

 Both paused in their conversation, turning towards the doorway and Tom. “Yes,” Cath answered.

 Lorna grinned, “Most definitely. We’ll meet you lot there.”

 Tom smiled warmly, “Fantastic. Alright, I should go.”

 “Before they riot,” Cath laughed.

 Tom quickly made his way out the door and down the stairs. He took a deep breath, smiling at the security guard near the stage door. Here we go.  

Next Chapter

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x orignal character #get better fic #Tom and Cath

[cdg174]

Call me Jane Doe: Chapter Twenty-Two

Series summary:  A young girl with many secrets and special abilities seeks out Sam and Dean on one of their hunts. For what you may ask? Help of all things but even though she needs them, she takes her time telling them what she wants and what she is. Y/N wants them to trust her before she does the same for them, because if she has learned anything, it’s that when you become attached to something it will only rip your heart out later.

Author’s note: This chapter links with the last one for the most part. Just to be on the safe side though, you’ll want to re-read the last few chapters over or the entire series because I haven’t posted in a very long time.

WARNING: Character death and suicide.

Words: 3060

Masterlist

“There was a time you would have done anything for me. I can’t remember the last time you even smiled at me, or hugged me and that you meant all good things. It must have been years ago because it’s at the point where the memory of all that good, all that love, it has all disappeared. So I don’t understand why I even bother visiting you anymore because if you were able to, right now, you would kill me. I’d be dead. So tell me why I keep coming back to you. Why? Just tell me why?”

...................................................................

Three weeks earlier, The Bunker…

Jane’s pov.

“If you were expecting my eyes to change colour again, you must all be very disappointed right now.”

If the air of the war room wasn’t so tense, someone aside from Crowley would have laughed. No such luck though.

Everyone in the room pauses. All of them become rigid as statues at the sight of me. I can’t blame them. I may not have seen my battered and bloody state but they all did.

I take my eyes away from the newcomer in the bunker. I don’t know Flora; she is unreadable in all ways. Even with this uncertainty, I just wanted to prevent any more conflict and blood being spilled. So my previous statement about Flora was merely a verbal way of calling a temporary truce between all those in the here.

I observe everyone else now.

Sam just looks at me with a pained expression. His ever changing eyes seem horrified, as they did when he saw my mangled form earlier this day. I nod an okay to him, Sam needs reassurance most.

Dean on the other hand, he looks ashamed. Not of me but himself. The hunter must be most discouraged with himself when he was unable to save me from torture. I know the truth though; nothing could have stopped Mallory from hurting me. My mother was unstoppable.

The sheriff has slowly and timidly made her way to my side. Jody is but feet away from me now, wanting to be ready to defend me or catch me if need be. She inches no closer; Jody respects my confident stance enough to halt her own.

Crowley just smiles at me. It’s an actual smile, one of joy and pride. This is a rare occurrence from someone who claims to be evil. His hands stay in his pants pockets but if I know Crowley, he’s flipping a mental coin to see who breaks the quiet first.

“Jane…”

I’m pulled out of my perception of the war room by the crumbling voice of Castiel. His tone is raw sounding and hoarse as sand paper.

It is at this time that I see my angel friend for the first time. My breath freezes in my lungs.

Walking is forgotten in my mind and in a millisecond I am kneeling in front of Castiel.

I can feel everyone in the room take a moment to collect themselves. Despite the fact that I touched no one in my motions, the speed in which I teleported must have given everyone whiplash.

No matter, my attention is on the tousled remains of Castiel slumping in the chair before my eyes.

It is at this time that I realize I have not been seeing all the souls in the room. Earlier I was watching Jody’s soul dance with itself in bliss. Later on I had nearly cried at the sight of my chained up mother’s havoc swirling darkness.

Now I see nothing, until I close my eyes facing the wreckage that is Castiel.

The soul casts extreme blinding light but not for me. I see through to its core and I feel awe overtake me.

At the center of Castiel’s being are all-powerful palms of hands shielding what seems to be a globe. Fingers cascade over the world’s every surface, in a hope to hold it together. Constantly healing but never fully recovering or succeeding.

It’s all exquisite, simply alluring.

I find my left arm being pulled toward Castiel’s chest. My hand places itself ever so delicately over his bloody clothed heart. I can feel it beating just barely through his skin. The thought of my friend like this brings water to my eyes.

I don’t want to see Castiel in such pain and so I imagine him well. No cuts upon his face, no broken bones or swelling bruises. I imagine the angel easily laughing and speaking with no rasp in his voice. Just Castiel as I first saw him with no blood or torn clothing. All scars missing and standing tall, perfectly alright.

...................................................................

Present time …

My phone rings from its place on the passenger seat next to me.

I already know it’s one of the boys.

Maybe it’s Crowley, wanting to know if I’d like to go for lunch.

My thoughts continue to wander about the ringing cell phone as I drive along the highway. It’s about 10AM now. The phone goes off many times throughout every day but I just let it ring.

If it’s Sam calling, he will just be asking if I’m alright and updating me on how everyone else is.

If I go back to the bunker for anything, it would be to tell Sam to go to sleep. He only rings me between 2 and 6AM.

When Dean calls, he always starts by trying to convince me to come back home for a game night. When really he’s just trying to track my phone to find where I am.

Since I’ve stopped picking up calls, Dean can no longer track my whereabouts.

Castiel is different though, he’s only tried to get a hold of me a few times in the past weeks. I’m pretty sure he’s out and about looking for me.

How do I know all of this? I listen to all the voicemails they leave.

It can’t be Jody calling because she just texts me now. The sheriff gave up calling after a few days. She’ll start by saying how worried the Winchesters are about me and finish by asking if I need anything. I always respond to Jody the same way.

“I don’t need anything, thanks for asking” and that’s all.

I never answer any phone calls because I have nothing to say to anyone. Not a damn thing.

I’m not heartless though.

Texting is how I let the boys know I’m still alive.

I’ll just send them each the same thing every day.

“I’m still breathing, just not speaking at the moment.”

Just like that, each morning and every night. I may be absent minded towards the boys but I am not cruel.  

“Jane you’re going to have to answer that noisy thing sometime. Or at least have the decency to turn the sound off.”

I jump as Flora’s voice comes from the back seat. I peek at her in the rear-view mirror before quickly silencing my phone still ringing away on passenger side.

“Sorry.” I smile shyly back at the angel who now rises from lying down.

“It’s fine. So where are we off to now?” Flora stretches her arms above her head in question.

“We’re going to visit her.” When I speak I look straight ahead at the speeding pavement.

“Alright, how far off are we?” Flora understands what I mean immediately.

“Five hours.”

I smile at the groan I receive in response.

“It’d be a lot faster if you just teleported us there.” I watch Flora cross her arms in the mirror, a pout upon her lips.

“I know, I know but driving helps me relax in the meantime.”

Flora complains no further, she’s aware about how painful where we’re going is for me.

Five more hours.

...................................................................

Three weeks earlier, The Bunker…

“We could just keep her locked up for a while.”

Dean stares at his brother in disbelief.

“Keep her locked up here? Sam you nearly killed her today just at her first words to you.” The eldest Winchester scoffs out. “You of all people nearly killed a human. Mallory is too agitating for even you, one of the most level headed people here. That’s saying something.”

Jody buts in.

“Dean’s right.” The library occupants now focus on the sheriff. “I could take her and hold in one of the jails. I mean just until we figure out what to do with her. None of you will be able to tolerate Mallory long here anyway.”

The sheriff nods this more toward me because she knows I’m the only one Mallory was here for in the first place. If my mom were to escape somehow, she’d go straight for me. No doubt about it.

“Or the more secure possibility would be hell.”

All heads turn toward Crowley who sits comfortably in one of the library chairs. Poise is the king.

“What?” It’s Flora who speaks up.

Everyone has left her be since I stood for her. At the moment she actually leans on the wall next to me.

I look to the new angel in curiosity. Even though I know that she is some centuries old, her vessel looks very young. She seems maybe mid twenties. She’s very pretty which is a word I don’t use often at all. This being because I haven’t had the time to think about descriptions. Flora however…

I find that she emanates beauty.

All of her features complement each other. Flora’s florescent gold eyes seem to reflect off her eyelashes, making her actual eyes look like deer’s pearls. The nose on her face isn’t straight but curved just so that it makes her full tan lips stand out. The roots of Flora’s hair start out black and flow out to brown at her shoulder length tips. Her skin a mere few shades away from being a dark oak.

As I am looking over Flora, I miss the argument that breaks out. Something about Crowley’s suggestion and the Winchesters disagreeing with him.

“Let Jane decide what becomes of Mallory.” Castiel walks into the library wearing a fresh non bloody suit.

After I healed Cas he went to change from his disgustingly crusty apparel. He doesn’t sport his usual trench coat. It must be in the wash still or completely trashed.

“Yes. Good idea brother.” Flora stands up to her full height, which isn’t much, in agreement. “After all it is her mother. Jane of everyone here has more right of choosing Mallory’s fate.”

I think this is Flora’s way of proving her loyalty to us, more so to me. She must realize how enormous our next decisions are. All though Mallory’s actions were monstrous, she is still a human and my mother.

I feel all eyes on me now. The word eye has now lost all meaning to me in their history in my life.

I continue to study Flora and appreciate her interest in the matter at hand as I respond to the question hanging in the air.

“I want to give Mallory a second chance to live the life she wants.” I stare at the listening faces of the room. “I want to erase my mother’s memory of me and all things supernatural.”

  ...................................................................

Present time…

“I’m sorry Jane. I am so sorry.”

I am embraced by Flora through the open driver’s side door of our vehicle.

If the boys were to see how close the angel and I have gotten over the weeks, they might lose their minds.

Flora has stuck by me in ways the Winchesters, Castiel and Crowley never could. The bond between us is even different from Jody’s relationship with me. Just as strong, but nowhere near motherly like the sheriff.

I am currently in ruins over the visit I am to have with someone who is only a short walk from us.

“We don’t have to do this today. We can stay in town tonight and come back in the morning.” Flora’s hand smooths over my head in hopes to diminish my sorrow.

I don’t wish to break from the angel’s calming embrace so I simply speak into the hug.

“This is the last time I come back here. It has to be today.”

The howls that escape my throat cause Flora to pull me into her more.

“It has to be today.” My whisper is as broken as my heart.

...................................................................

Three weeks earlier, The Bunker…

I peer at my dark sneakers as they move in a trance down the bright bunker halls. The black shoelace ends slither on the shoes fabric in slow motion. My breathing is pummeling against my lung walls, in dread of my path to the dungeon.

I barely hear Flora’s voice next to my ear.

“Slow down Jane, you’re going to trip over your own two feet.”

I feel a hand tug on my elbow, in an attempt to halt my panicked rushing. Enough of a pull to have me turn and look directly into the gems that are Flora’s eyes staring into my own violet ones.

“You’re about to hyperventilate Jane. Wait a second and breathe for a moment.” As soothing as the angel speaks and as welcoming as her eyes are, I have to continue.

I gently leave Flora’s grasp and stare at her still.

“It has to be now.” I force my gaze away from hers and resume forward. “It has to be before I change my mind.”

I force my stiff legs to carry me toward the dungeon where I am to erase Mallory’s memory of being a mother to me. All her memory of all inhuman beings will be nonexistent.

I am unaware of my fingers twisting the dungeon door open or my head rising to see my mother already standing and free from her bonds.

“How did you get out?” It’s Dean acknowledging Mallory’s sudden escape.

I hadn’t known about him following behind Flora and me.

“It doesn’t matter.” Mallory races toward Dean, who squeezed through the door and stands beside me.

I never knew how fast my mother was on her feet because in no time she has snatched a pistol from the eldest Winchester. Dean was pushed down to the floor in her antics and soon she points the barrel of the weapon at me once more.

I raise my hands in an unneeded defence.

“Mom it’s alright. We’re not here to hurt you.”

I pass the words effortlessly out between my lips seeing as this is the last time I will be able to call her that.

She hesitates briefly before lowering the weapon.

“I am here to give you one last chance at life because I love you.” I whisper in truth.

<WARNING>

“I believe you.” Then Mallory raises the weapon to her own temple. “But I still know when I’ve lost. Goodbye baby.”

The gun goes off.

My eyes clench as mom’s soul flourishes into death.

Ignoring every aspect of life around my own, I sink to my mother’s non-breathing side. My arms move on their own accord beneath her limp back and pull her body into my own. I feel the pulse leave from beneath her skin and fade into the nothing. If it weren’t for the blood running into her dishevelled hair from the bullet’s path, Mallory could look as though she were just asleep. The paler my mother’s face becomes, the more I shiver.

I don’t realize that I’m trying to shake her awake until my hand carries her lolling head. I feel the red travel to my finger tips as I brush hair off Mallory’s face. I bend my head down to my mother’s forehead and speak.

“I love you mama.”

A weight rests upon my trembling shoulder and I desperately look up into Flora’s gloomy eyes.

I had no clue how wrecked a soul could become until I disappeared from the bunker with my dead mother carried in my grasp.

The only light in that moment was an angel named Flora following close behind me due my quick exit.

<WARNING ENDS>

...................................................................

Present time…

“Happy birthday mama.”

I perch glumly at the grave stone of the lady once named Mallory.

I stare at the name of a woman who gave birth to a cambion and loved the creature anyway. This woman sacrificed all for a baby she never wanted and became hated when she tried taking her life back.

“I don’t know why I’m bringing you flowers mom. You’re allergic to pretty much every kind.” I glare reluctantly at the lilies in my hold, droplets cascading down my cheeks. “I just thought they were lovely like you once were.”

I sink to the green grass where my mother’s feet would be.

There is a shivering crack in my voice.

“There was a time you would have done anything for me. I can’t remember the last time you even smiled at me, or hugged me and that you meant all good things. It must have been years ago because it’s at the point where the memory of all that good, all that love, it has all disappeared.  So I don’t understand why I even bother visiting you anymore because if you were able to, right now, you would kill me. I’d be dead. So tell me why I keep coming back to you. Why? Just tell me why?”

I know full well that Mallory has no life to respond and so I drop the bouquet of lilies at her headstone before standing to my numb feet.

I take in the gravelly stone of my mother’s final existence before spinning my toes away from her. I tilt my stare at my mother’s name for the final time.

“Goodbye mom. I love you.”

The pads of my flats teeter their way in the direction of the parking lot.

I remember nothing of the journey back to the pavement where my vehicle is parked still.

“Jane?”

The sockets of my eyes are agitated with salty tears that look to the gold eyed beauty that is Flora. The angel who has been on this three week trip with me is resting on the hood of our vehicle. Flora shows nothing but support in her entire expression.

“I think it’s about time we head home Flora.” A smile dawns on my lips for the first moment in 21 days. “I need to go home.”

..............................................................

Special mentions (tags open) :

@arazialotis @goldenolaf25 @when-innocence-is-gone@fallen-castielx@anothertimeinspace @flare-chan003 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @imnotalosechester @mary-meee  @jsamstar @driadgoch @vvinch3st3r@kayarisa @misguidedconqueress @heeeeeether @breathexxinxxthexxflames@tuckyouinwarmwithin  @simirachel @supernatural-fangirl13 @lilypalmer1987@beatlesobsessionlove @ultracleverthing @possesstiel @anamarieswift2194@mlechercat @elyraelyn @caratala @theotherlostgirl  @dandycandy75 @the-imaginarium-of-life@trilloku-blog @fandomking221b @stephisapotatoe @5sos-wdw@jadepc @spngeronimo @eemeile @imjustabloger @dixonsunicorn@mcdaring @silvermisthunter @roco-m-pie @mutedwerido @purplesandwichtiger  @deanmonwithwings24 @secretkittenhideout@whaticameheretosay @rls905 @msimpala67  @littlesupernaturalwords@spnsoap @hp-hogwartsexpress @d3stiny13-blog​ @darknzz-incarnate @marshmallow-world  @youtube-starkid​  @bluebear2232  @hstott@cosmoetik

#supernatural #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #SPNFamily #AKF #always keep fighting #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #castiel #CAS #angel of the lord #angel in a trenchcoat #baby in a trenchcoat #death mention #supernatural fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction writer

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

My Saviour - Six

A/N: I know I said I would be posting Thursday or Friday, but I’m not going to be able to do that, so I'm posting today instead. A huuuuge thank you to all that has commented, liked and reblogged this, it means so incredibly much to me. Special thanks to my beta @thorne93 and also a shout out to @torn-and-frayed for helping me figure some stuff out for this part. READ THE WARNINGS ALL!!!

Characters: Dean, Reader, Alex, Bobby, Dr. Crowley.

Warnings: Angst, Pregnancy, Physical abuse, A little fluff in the middle (if you squint).

Wordcount: 3606.

Catch up HERE

Dean was restless at work the next afternoon. Sleep hadn't come easy the night before, and you were constantly on his mind as he was trying to think of how he could make things up to you.

He was barely two hours into his shift when his boss, Dr. Crowley, pulled him into an empty exam room.

“What's going on?” Dean asked, confused by the sudden action.

“I've called in Dr. Matthews and she's on her way in to cover your shift,” he explained, giving Dean a stern look.

Dr. Fergus Crowley was a man that just oozed respect. It was something about the way he carried himself, or maybe it was the British accent… whatever it was, people just instantly respected him. He was also a fair boss who treated all his employees with the same respect they gave him.

“What?” Dean stupidly questioned.

“I can tell you’re not on your A game today, Winchester, and I need my doctors to be on their A game,” he said. “I don't know what's going on, but I want you to take tonight off and then come back well rested for your morning shift tomorrow, can you do that?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, still a little confused about what just happened.

As soon as the conversation ended, Dean made his way to the nurses station to give them some updates and some notes to pass on to the doctor who was coming to cover for him. The nurses were all gathered around the computer to look at picture of one of their grandkids when the phone rang. All of them looked up at Dean and he instantly reached for the phone and answered, introducing himself as he picked up.

“Hey, this is Bobby Singer calling, do you have a patient by the name of (YN) (YLN) there?”

Dean recognized the man as your boss, and as soon as he heard your name chills went down his spine as dread filled his entire body. “No, she's not here. What's going on? I'm a friend of hers.”

The line went quiet for a bit before Bobby spoke again. “How good of a friend are you?”

“Good enough that I know what's going on at home,” Dean answered boldly.   

“Okay,” Bobby dragged. “She didn't come into work today, which never happens, she always let's me know, and I can't reach her on her phone.” He sounded worried.

“Have you called her house?”

“No. I didn't know if I should, because… you know.”

“I know where she might be.” Dean looked around and saw Dr. Matthews down the hall. “Listen, I'm done at work for the day so I'll go look for her. Keep me updated if you hear from her?”

“I will. Same to you.”

The two of them exchanged numbers before Dean hung up the phone and took off towards the garage to get his car and set off to where you had met the night before.

He hoped that was where you were, and that nothing bad had happened between you had Alex last night.

He drove as fast as he could, his fingers tapping the wheel as he maneuvered through the streets, trying not to let the panic get the best of him.

Relief washed through him when he saw your car parked at the end of the gravelly road. He had hardly parked before jumping out and making his way towards you, finding you in the exact place you had been last night.

“Hey,” he said softly so to not scare you, even if he was pretty sure you had heard the rumble of his engine.

“Hey,” you sniffled, not turning around to look at him.

“What are you doing out here? Your boss called the hospital asking for you when you didn't show up for work.” Dean was standing a few feet behind you because he wanted to keep his distance after the way he had treated you last night.

You didn't answer, instead you held out you arm, handing Dean a small ziploc bag. He looked from you to the bag, then back again before he took the bag from your hand. He turned it around in his hand, looking at the little stick with the two pink lines on it, his heart dropping to his stomach.

You were pregnant.

He took a seat next to you, closer than he had been to you since that night in the emergency room, thinking about nothing else than comforting you.

“How do you feel?” he questioned after a while in silence.

You turned to meet his eyes, something you rarely did, you didn't even try to hide the tears that were making their way down your face.

“I can't have a baby, Dean,” you admitted. “Not in that house… not with that man.”

There was a million thoughts running through your head, about how you would manage on your own with a baby, or what would happen when you told Alex you were pregnant, but leaving him, or the scary though that you really didn't want this baby at all. But you kept coming back to the fact that you could never raise a child in that house, and Alex was not equipped to be a father at all.

“So what are you going to do?” Dean dared.

“I don't know. I have no idea what so ever on how to handle a situation like this.” You let your voice rise slightly with every word, showing your frustration.

“I can't imagine what's going through your head right now, but I have no doubt that you will make a great mom to that little baby,” Dean said. He had nothing else to offer you, no other words of comfort.

“But I don't want to be a mom, Dean!” you exclaimed, rising to your feet, Dean doing the same. “How horrible of a person does that make me? I. DON'T. WANT.THIS.BABY,” you yelled. “I don't want to look at my child everyday and know that it was conceived when my husband raped me in the kitchen. I don't want to look into it's eyes and constantly worry that it might grow up to be like it's father. I don't want to have it as a reminder of all the horrible things that Alex has put me through. I can't bring a baby into this world knowing that I already hate it.” Your eyes were locked with Dean's, glaring at him, wanting him to fix this. He was a doctor after all, he could fix it.

He didn't know what to say, and he couldn't possibly understand what you were feeling right now, all he knew was that you needed him. He took a chance and wrapped his arms around  you, pulling you into his body. For a fraction of a second he could feel you tense under his touch, but eventually you slunk into his form.

The two of you stood there for a while, Dean letting you cry into his shoulder, and you letting yourself be comforted by his embrace.

“Sorry,” you said when you felt like you had composed yourself a little. “I'm sorry I yelled at you, this isn't your fault.”

“Don't apologize,” he said. He gently put his hands on your biceps and looked into your eyes. “I can't even begin to imagine what you’re going through, but I'll be here for you, whatever you choose to do,” he said softly.

“I feel like the worst person in the world,” you said, stepping out of his grip and taking a seat on the ground again.

“Don't say that.” Dean sat next to you, so close that your shoulders were touching. “You are not a bad person, (YN), even if you choose to terminate the pregnancy, you have valid reasons to do so,” Dean said.

“I don't know if I could do that either.” It wasn't that you were against abortion or anything, but the thought of doing that, and having to live with the ‘what ifs’ for the rest your life… no.. that wasn't something you could do. “I don't know… I just… I feel like there should be some kind of happiness when you learn that you’re pregnant, but I feel absolutely no happiness. All I feel is dread and fear and… I really don't know.”  You looked into Dean's emerald green eyes and it was like a wave of clarity hit you. What the hell were you doing? Sitting here and spilling your guts, your deepest and darkest secrets, to a man you hardly knew. That wasn't like you at all. In fact you had made it a point not to let anyone in on your situation. What happened at home was your problem, and yours alone, and certainly not someone you didn't even know. “I'm sorry, Dean. Just please forget I said anything, this isn't your problem.”

“I will do no such thing,” Dean assured, placing a large hand over your much smaller one. It was a gesture of comfort, but your instinct was to pull away from him, and you did. Dean frowned, but he kept on talking as if it hadn't happened. “I consider you my friend, and friends help each other out. Also, I am kind of your doctor, so as soon as you are ready, we are going to go to the hospital and get you an ultrasound and a quick check up, just to make sure everything is good in there,” Dean offered kindly.

“You would do that for me?” you questioned, fresh tears threatening your eyes as his kindness overwhelmed you.

“Absolutely,” he assured, a smile on his perfect lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You don't know what came over you, but you placed your head on his shoulder as you let your eyes travel over the lake once more. You felt better now, less scared knowing you had Dean as a friend, as someone you could trust.

Dean couldn't help but feel a little relieved in spite of all this, because bottom line was that you were now going to leave Alex and that was something that eased Dean's mind. Of course the circumstances weren't ideal, but at least you were getting out of that house, and he was going to be there for you every step of the way… if you would let him.

**

It was nearly dark when Dean parked the Impala in the garage at the hospital once again, you in his passenger seat.

“Ready for this?” he questioned, turning to look at you. Your eyes were still puffy from the crying you had done, and you were still sniffling a little, but you looked a million times better than when he had found you a few hours ago.

“No,” you said with a slight chuckle.

“I'll be right outside the door the whole time.”

“Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me, (YN). This is what friends do,” he assured once more.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, averting your eyes from him and staring at your hands instead.

He thought about making a comment about it, but decided to make it slide this time. Apologizing was like a reflex to you, much like your foot bouncing if you hit that little spot just below your knee, so he knew you couldn't help it, but he also hoped that in time it would change.

“Let's do this,” he said, clapping his hands together before opening the door.

**

Dean hadn't broken his promise, he was right outside the examination room the whole time, waiting for you to be done.

A small smile was playing on your lips when you finally emerged from the room and Dean was instantly on his feet when he saw you.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“I'm further along than I thought,” you said, unable to wipe the smile from your face.

“How long?”

“Twelve weeks,” you said. “Dean, there was a head and arms and little toes… and a strong steady heartbeat. There's a freaking baby in there,” you said excitedly. “My baby.”

“So… how do you feel about it now?” Dean asked, a little spark in his eyes. He loved seeing your smile, how your eyes lit up and how your nose scrunched together, just a little.

“Better. Don't get me wrong, I'm still scared… I don't know what happened, but the moment I heard that little heart beating I just knew that I have to do all I can to protect this baby,” you said, placing a hand on your still flat belly.

“What do you do now?” Dean asked as concern took over his features. You knew the next couple of days where going to be rough, but you had to move out from Alex’s house. There was no way in hell you could bring a new life into an environment like that.

“That's a really good question…” you said thoughtfully. “Do you think I should go to the police?”

“Yes…but that's not my decision to make,” he said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I'll be here for support though.”

“Thank you,” you said, a warm smile on your face.

“If you want, I can call Sam and see if he has some advice for you?” he asked carefully. He hadn't told you that Sam knew what was going on, and he hoped he didn't have to.

“Really? You think he would do that?”

“Absolutely.”

It took you a few moments to answer Dean. On one hand, you could really use the help, but on the other, you really didn't want to involve more people than absolutely necessary. Besides, you hardly even knew Sam.

“I'll text him and see if he wants to meet for a cup of coffee,” Dean said before you could answer. “And then you can decide if you want to talk to him or not.”

**

No more than twenty minutes later you found yourself in the cafeteria at the hospital, you, Dean, and Sam. On the way there you had asked Dean if he could fill Sam in on the basics, just that you were being abused and that you wanted to leave Alex, and ask Sam if he had any advice for that. Sam listened intently as his brother spoke.

“Do you have any evidence of the abuse?” Sam asked as Dean was done filling him in.

“Yeah, there's medical records, x-rays, and little notes from the doctors who has treated her saying they suspected physical abuse.” Dean looked from you to his brother as he spoke, noticing the shift in you, how you tensed up as he mentioned your medical files.

“And you are willing to press charges? Laying out all the evidence you have against him?” Sam directed his question to you now, making you shift awkwardly in your chair. Sam had kind, hazel eyes, and he had a friendly voice so to begin with you didn't feel threatened by him, but now he was using his lawyer voice on you and it made you feel uneasy.

“Yes,” you said weakly, not dearing to meet his eyes.

“I am not saying this to be cruel, (YN), but you need to know that this won't be easy. You have a long road ahead of you if you decide to press charges, you do have a pretty solid case, but that doesn't mean you won't have to open some old wounds.” Sam explained, his voice filled with compassion and kindness.

“Thank you, Sam,” you said, meeting his eyes for a fraction of a second. “I have to do this.”

**

After meeting with Sam, Dean drove you back to your car, which you had left by the lake.

“Are you sure you’re okay to go back home tonight?” Dean asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Yes, Dean, I am sure.” You couldn't help but smile a little. It was strange to have someone so supportive, and someone who was concerned for your well being in your life. “I kind of caught him in bed with another woman last night, so I think I have a few days before I'm in any danger again,” you assured.

“Okay then.”

You said goodbye to Dean, thanking him once more before getting in your car and driving home. For the first time in a long time you felt good, you felt hopeful of the future, looking forward to things to come, and it was a truly exhilarating feeling. You hadn't felt like this since you had been accepted into Stanford, but now there was light at the end of the tunnel.

You parked your car and headed inside the house, the house that wouldn't be your home much longer. You, Sam, and Dean had come up with a plan, a plan that started with you and Dean going to the police first thing tomorrow morning. Butterflies soared in your stomach just at the thought. Of course it was scary, but it was something you had to do, for you and for your baby.

The house was dark, so you figured Alex had already gone to bed. You took your phone out of your purse, sticking it in your back pocket before setting the purse on the table in the hall. You hung your jacket and took off your shoes before heading into the kitchen, figuring you'd get Alex’s lunch ready for tomorrow.

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed as you entered the kitchen, your hand flying to your chest. “I thought you had gone to bed.”

Alex was sitting by the table in the dark room, a beer in one hand, a curled up piece of paper in the other. “Where have you been all day?” he asked in a calm voice.

“Out,” you said quickly. “Driving around… watching the sunset by the lake… I just needed some time,” you explained while you looked through the fridge to find something to make.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice filling with anger as he held out the little piece of paper.

“I don't know.”

“Don't you lie to me.” He slammed his hand on the table, making you jump. “This is a receipt for a pregnancy test,” he bellowed, getting to his feet. “Are you pregnant?”

He was coming closer and closer to you. Panic overtook you and you couldn't move, or speak, all you could do was shake your head vigorously.

You whimpered as his hand made it's way to your hair, grabbing it and yanking your head back. “Who have you been fucking? Is it that Winchester?”

“What? No,” you forced out, your voice shaking as his warm breath fanned over your face.

“Liar,” he bellowed again. “You stupid, ungrateful whore. After all I have done for you, you go behind my back and fuck another man,” he said through gritted teeth.

“No, Alex, I swear,” you pleaded. “If I remember correctly it was you that was fucking another woman, in our bed. I have never been unfaith…”

“How dare you?” Alex yanked your head back a little further before smashing it against the kitchen counter, knocking you off balance.

He still had a hold of your hair as you fell to your knees. Your head spinning from the impact while you felt something warm run down your face. Probably blood.

“How dare you speak to me like that?”

He pulled on your hair again, making you stand up, and it was all you could do not to throw up. Every thought you had in your head was on your baby, and how to protect it, how to keep him from hurting it.

A sharp pain spread through your abdomen as his knee collided with your stomach, once again sending you to the floor. You doubled over and wrapped one arm around your belly while the other helped keep you balanced.

“Please, Alex,” you begged him, tears streaming down your face.

Another sharp pain in your stomach. This time it was his foot that hit you, sending you crashing against the legs of the table. The pain was greater than any you had experienced before and you were sure he cracked one of your ribs, you couldn't even cry out because of the pain.

He leaned down and grabbed your hair again, but just as he had tangled your hair in his fist, his phone started ringing. Alex had set a different tone for the alarm company he had hired to look after his construction sites, so this was one call he couldn't miss.

“If you make as much as a sound…” he threatened before releasing you to get his phone.  

This was your chance to get away, to call for help. You gathered all your strength and got to your feet, clutching your stomach as you stumbled to the living room, closing the door behind you and sliding down in front of it in an attempt to stop Alex from getting in. You reached for the phone in your pocket and held it in both your trembling hands. You were shaking so hard that you could hardly get it to unlock, but when it did you hurried to find ‘Tony’s Pizza’ in your contacts, the name Dean had given his number.

You put the phone to your ear and prayed that he would pick up.

Just after the second beep, Alex was on the door, pushing hard against it so you jerked forward, making your phone fly from your hand and slide across the floor. Another shove on the door sent you forward enough for him to get through and into the room with you.

Tags: (add yourself HERE)

Everything: @luckyfriess @essie1876 @fangirlextraordinaire @itseverythingilike @melonberri @laurenisnot @mandylove1000 @viviandarkbloom06 @feelmyroarrrr @weaslywinchester @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @mogaruke @smoothdogsgirl @fandomsstolemylife00 @thisishowieroll @jayankles @atc74 @devilgirlindisguise @roxyspearing @dustycelt @iamnotsaneatall @mizzzpink @mamaredd123 @girl-next-door-writes @mrswhozeewhatsis @ginamsmith @moonstar86 @spontaneousam @wwecrazed2010 @just-another-busy-fangirl @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @imaginesofdreams @maddieburcham1 @duckieburns @thereisnolumos @jannalionheart @grace-for-sale @joseyrw @silver-and-green @deansgirl215 @bea789 @boris-lover-13 @queencflair @percywinchester27  @blackcherrywhiskey @kittycat-cat @dmpmomtothree @briana4129 @dslocum89 @captainradicalpassion @docharleythegeekqueen @sea040561 @sandlee44 @mysterious398  @abbessolute @nanie5 @ria132love @lessondofred @jared-jensen-misha-are-lovelyy @theginamariestaytion @cra-zy-vib-es1999 @clairese1980 @uzum4k1-uch1h4 @starmission @xcastawayherosx

Dean/Jensen: @boredoutofmymindstuff @koaladean @boxywrites @autopistaaningunaparte @its-not-a-tulpa @keepcalmandbeajunkie @torn-and-frayed @naadestiel @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @daughterleftbehind@bemyqueenofdarkness @melmo-omnomnom @sparklesuperwholock88 @michellethetvaddict @supernatural-jackles @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @superseejay721517 @suzannebeaketa @akshi8278 @redeyedvixen @im-a-light-child @ruprecht0420 @mayasmedberg @justanotherdeangirl @spnmariiscake @valerieshubin @briecullerorwinchester  @illisea  @supernatural-fan-123 @carribear31 @mariahoedt @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @sammat97 @alyssa6marie @phoenixfireburning @lessonsofred @canadianjelly @myloveforyouxx @sleepylunarwolf @captianemwinchester @illtakeawinchesteranyday @megasimpleplan4ever

My Savior: @4401lnc @briecullerorwinchester @georgialouisea @meghan-brannon @supernatural-fangirl13 @winchester-writes @trans-siberian-marching-band @oneshoeshort @duherica @fangirlwalkingbitches @ladydw @schizonephlim @infinity-dreamchaser @dancingalone21 @kickboxingkangarootattoo @earthtokace @guineapigsandtyleroakley @mrssamfuckingwinchester @the-right-drug-wrong-time @pinkleopardss @deans--chevy--baby @thebikiniinspector

#spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #dean x reader #dr.dean #my saviour #mentions of abuse #spn angst #SPN series

[nyxmuses]

OTP / TAG / VERSE MASTERLIST 

So I was looking for inspiration for a ship name the other day and all I could see really was the same song lyrics, so I decided to make a masterlist of titles and lyrics from some of my favourite bands / albums that I haven’t seen used anywhere and think could be used for OTP/BROTP/Verse tags, anything really. I’ve NOT done them in any in order but each separated by artist / EP / etc. This will be a constantly updated masterlist, as I constantly find new bands I like so I will usually update as often as I can. 

Last Update: May 2017

Please like or reblog if you found this useful! 

CIGARETTES AFTER SEX

“EP” (2012) 

nothings’ gonna hurt you baby it was a perverted thing to say (but I said it anyway) made you smile and look away as long as you're with me, you'll be just fine nothing's gonna take you from my side always ends in a hazy shower scene there is no way out except to watch the love between us die when it brings you down it gives you butterflies now I'm longing for your kiss bet you could read it on my lips think you're just my type now I'm dreaming of you think you’d suit me fine. what can I say to make you listen. what can I do for your attention. when I'm alone I hear & feel you wish that I could reach right out & touch you

“CIGARETTES AFTER SEX” (2017)

“remember when I first noticed that you liked me back i could tell that something had changed how you looked at me then i've been waiting for you to slip back in bed think I like you best when you're dressed in black from head to toe i like you best when you're just with me stay with me I don't want you to leave all I wanna know is if you love her you just can't say goodbye come out & haunt me

OTHER SONGS FROM CIGARETTES AFTER SEX

i’m ready to find you i'm ready to show you how I feel  you weren’t mine. lost and found standing in the rain. you know that it's hard when you look that way when I said that I love you I meant that I love you forever i’m gonna keep on loving you. make love to me inside the darkness i can see you wanna take my hand.

RUELLE 

“UP IN FLAMES” (2015) 

glimmer in the moonlight only shadows there dwell we are keeping on the outside creeping on the edge of the dark we feel warmth in the cold corners we’ll be the last ones standing / last ones standing. sin so thick you can't see the stars i feel it running through my veins i need that fire just to know that I'm awake come to me in the night hours i will wait for you thoughts of you consume. i can’t help but love you. i know that i’d die without you. overcome in this war of hearts in my bones can feel it in my bones. you never stood a chance. ready or not. hit me like a ton of bricks. like a crashing wave. up your sleeve again. can't hide in the den of lions can't move with your feet tied no rest when you sleep in shadows you can't hide from the big guns vanish into the night with me raising heartbeats shadows on concrete set fear on fire awaken in the dark with me

“MADNESS” (2016) 

fraction of a memory waited so long something sweet like this where I belong living in a daydream caught in a daydream there will be blood in the water faith falls hard on our shoulders we could live like legends no turning back waking up from a fantasy all that's left is you and me invincible in a violet sea dare to move, dare to believe how do you fly with no wings how do you breathe without dreams wearing thin the heart beneath there's no place to call our own like a drifting haze we roam a world I can't control down in my soul gripping my bones won’t you wake me up? nowhere to run from all of this havoc nowhere to hide from all of this madness feel the fury closing in all resistance wearing thin

OTHER SONGS FROM RUELLE

nothing is the same a new world calling my name i can't escape this shadows break the dark our fate is beckoning nowhere to run we're coming after you this is the hunt won’t give up this fight caught off-guard by you like a wave I pulled into a feeling I can't fight like a wildfire taking my heart by storm lost in your love i can't hold back anymore torn apart by you a spell I can't undo can't escape it now in too deep to get out no place to hide. feeling like a villain, got a hunger inside. you're running cause I'm coming going to eat you alive heart hits like a drum he chase has just begun monsters stuck in your head monsters under your bed one misstep, you're mine and you better stay clever if you wanna survive once you cross the line you'll be wishing you would listen when you meet your demise we're kings of the killing we're out for blood we'll take them one by one don't know what you're asking for bring on the fire and bring on the storm we'll still be here when it's all said and done burn down the bridges and tear down the walls we'll still be standing invincible thunder in my chest, adrenaline in my veins if you wanna play my game one look at you; my whole life falls in line. i prayed for you; before I called you mine. i get to love you its the best thing i’ll ever do the way you love, it changes who I am. i am undone your heart i will choose it hurts too good to say no you're pulling me in this is how it begins see how much I can take push and pull 'till I break stay locked to the rhythm of my heart everybody wants a hero these iron chains ain't nothing gonna stop us the worlds sitting pretty in the palm of my hand shadows are calling me light in my veins darkness is sinking me lost in the deep end

BLUE FOUNDATION

“BLUE FOUNDATION” (2000)

i will rise and shine in the mornin' light. if you don't watch out she'll get to you i never knew the truth in her sighs came toe to toe with nemesis it left my mind unscathed all i wanted was to bathe in the rays of eternity one is left with piles of ash

“SWEEP OF DAYS” (2004)

history is just beginning met my sorrow, saw her in the eyes we love till the end i won't soothe your pain i won't ease your strain you'll be waiting in vain i got nothing for you to gain feeding my flame shuffling the cards of your game

#brotp tags #otp tags #verse tags #verse masterlist #tags masterlist #brotp masterlist #otp masterlist #ship masterlist #rph #rpc #masterlist #lyrics #lyrics masterlist #made by me

[willjschabel-blog]

Blog 1 - Personal Biography

print(”Hello World!”) 

or more like hello internet, my name is Will Schabel, a Computer Science major. Now although I am required to write this blog for my Computer Science class, doesn’t mean it necessarily has to be lame, so I’ll try my best. Now a little about me, I come from a small town of 9,000 in the southeast corner of Kansas known as Independence Kansas. Roughly three hours from Kansas State University, where I’m a freshmen.. In my stressful time of deciding between colleges I was torn between KU and K-State, but ultimately chose K-State due to the more friendly seeming community/environment, and because KU sucks am I right? *High Five* So you might be asking “Why Computer Science?” I chose this hard path because it was the only major that truly interested me. Most of my friends chose a major that was either easy or paid well but did not suit their interests. Computer Science just seemed to speak to me. In 2012-2013 I discovered PC gaming, and it blew my mind. But... gaming on a terrible HP laptop was not ideal, so I built my first computer. Flash forward to 2015 I began coding which basically sealed the deal for me to decide Computer Science my senior year of high school. From the start my biggest hobby has been gaming. What I love about games is that a team of coders came togeth to create a new world, and I can live/play in this world. Gaming allows for a momentary escape from reality, and the stress involved in it. Recently I’ve been emulating Legend of Zelda: Breath Of The Wild to play at 4k, locked at 30FPS. And the games has blown my mind. But enough ranting about games, let’s talk about my life in Independence. I have two older siblings, and one younger. The two oldest are named Ty and Kayla, and the youngest is Lyssa. My parents names are Shawn and Lori Schabel. My family is extremely loving and supportive, always pushing for each of us to do what we love rather than what pays. We do of course have fights, but every family does, but they have definitely played a huge part in making me the person I am today, and I thank them for that. Through out my life I’ve only had a couple of jobs, and none of them I’ve enjoyed. My worst and most interesting job I’ve done would probably be when I worked for an air conditioning company. Man, that was brutal work, I enjoyed learning the ins and outs of AC units, but didn’t enjoy learning about them while laying on raw insulation. So that sums that up. So basically I never plan to do that type of work again. Once I graduate I’m hoping to get a good paid internship that hopefully transforms into a job, I’ve heard that that is common for the CS Major graduate, but I may be wrong (or rather my adviser was wrong and I need a new one...)  Currently in my Computer Science class I’m required to read a book titled Pattern On The Stone by W. Daniel Hillis. The work covers computers and how they function. Pattern On The Stone is incredible so far, Hillis constantly makes analogies comparing computers to everyday concepts to allow a further understanding of how computers do what they do. I’m personally only three chapters in, but am looking forward to absorbing it all. Looking through the chapters one intrigues me most of all, chapter 8: “Computers That Learn and Adapt.” This instantly brings to mind AI, referring to artificial intelligence, which I’ve always been interested about. Books like this are what drive me to want to stick with Computer Science, but I also follow various media sources to learn more about this major and modern technology. I’m currently subscribed to various Youtube channels to keep me updated on the technology of today, one being LinusTechTips. I always browse PCGamer.com and Tomshardware.com to keep up with tech, and the ever advancing world of computers. These few websites got me into the world of tech, and made me want to be a Computer scientist. So that’s my first blog. Thanks for for reading and getting to know me.

#computer science #computers #coding #python #kansas state #k-state #kansas state university #cs major #kansas state engineering #computer science blog #first blog

[theconservativebrief]

These mass shootings don’t keep happening because we don’t know what to do.

With another mass shooting in the US — this time, at a synagogue in Pittsburgh — many Americans are once again horrified and bewildered by what feels like constantly occurring tragedies. Calls for action are already popping up on social media. But if this plays out like it has before, there’s a very high chance that little to nothing will happen on a national scale.

Since I began covering mass shootings at Vox, I have seen this pattern play out again and again: A shooting happens. There are demands for action. Maybe something gets introduced in Congress. The debate goes back and forth for a bit. Then people move on — usually after a week or two. And so, with little to nothing changed, there’s eventually another mass shooting.

As a reporter, I have become eerily attuned to this horrible American ritual. I do the same thing every single time we get news of a mass shooting: verify reports, contribute to a “what we know” article, and then begin to update our old pieces on guns. I do this almost instinctively at this point — and that terrifies me. No one should get used to this.

As I see it, the core issue is that America as a whole refuses to even admit it has a serious problem with guns and gun violence. And more than that, lawmakers continue acting like the solutions are some sort of mystery, as if there aren’t years of research and experiences in other countries that show restrictions on firearms can save lives.

Consider President Donald Trump’s initial speech in response to the Parkland, Florida, school shooting: His only mention of guns was a vague reference to “gunfire” as he described what happened. He never even brought up gun control or anything related to that debate, instead vaguely promising to work “with state and local leaders to help secure our schools and tackle the difficult issue of mental health.”

This is America’s elected leader — and he essentially, based on his first public response, ignored what the real problem is. And although the White House eventually came around to bipartisan proposals to very slightly improve background checks and ban bump stocks, the compromises amount to fairly small changes to America’s weak gun laws.

In my coverage of these shootings, I’ve always focused on solutions through studies and policy ideas that would tamp down on the number of shootings. The good news is there are real solutions out there.

But America can’t get to those solutions until it admits it has a gun problem and confronts the reality of what it would mean to seriously address it.

The US is unique in two key — and related — ways when it comes to guns: It has way more gun deaths than other developed nations, and it has far higher levels of gun ownership than any other country in the world.

The US has nearly six times the gun homicide rate of Canada, more than seven times that of Sweden, and nearly 16 times that of Germany, according to United Nations data compiled by the Guardian. (These gun deaths are a big reason America has a much higher overall homicide rate, which includes non-gun deaths, than other developed nations.)

Javier Zarracina/Vox

Mass shootings actually make up a small fraction of America’s gun deaths, constituting less than 2 percent of such deaths in 2016. But America does see a lot of these horrific events: According to CNN, “The US makes up less than 5% of the world’s population, but holds 31% of global mass shooters.”

The US also has by far the highest number of privately owned guns in the world. Estimated in 2007, the number of civilian-owned firearms in the US was 88.8 guns per 100 people, meaning there was almost one privately owned gun per American and more than one per American adult. The world’s second-ranked country was Yemen, a quasi-failed state torn by civil war, where there were 54.8 guns per 100 people.

Max Fisher/Washington Post

Another way of looking at that: Americans make up less than 5 percent of the world’s population yet own roughly 42 percent of all the world’s privately held firearms.

These two facts — on gun deaths and firearm ownership — are related. The research, compiled by the Harvard School of Public Health’s Injury Control Research Center, is pretty clear: After controlling for variables such as socioeconomic factors and other crime, places with more guns have more gun deaths. Researchers have found this to be true not just with homicides, but also with suicides (which in recent years were around 60 percent of US gun deaths), domestic violence, and even violence against police.

For example, a 2013 study, led by a Boston University School of Public Health researcher, found that, after controlling for multiple variables, each percentage point increase in gun ownership correlated with a roughly 0.9 percent rise in the firearm homicide rate.

This chart, based on data compiled by researcher Josh Tewksbury, shows the correlation between the number of guns and gun deaths (including homicides and suicides) among wealthier nations:

Guns are not the only contributor to violence. (Other factors include, for example, poverty, urbanization, and alcohol consumption.) But when researchers control for other confounding variables, they have found time and time again that America’s high levels of gun ownership are a major reason the US is so much worse in terms of gun violence than its developed peers.

Supporters of gun rights look at America’s high levels of gun violence and argue that guns are not the problem. They point to other issues, from violence in video games and movies to the supposed breakdown of the traditional family.

Most recently, they’ve blamed mental health issues for mass shootings. This is the only policy issue that Trump mentioned in his first speech following the Florida shooting.

But as far as homicides go, people with mental illnesses are more likely to be victims, not perpetrators, of violence. And Michael Stone, a psychiatrist at Columbia University who maintains a database of mass shooters, wrote in a 2015 analysis that only 52 out of the 235 killers in the database, or about 22 percent, had mental illnesses. “The mentally ill should not bear the burden of being regarded as the ‘chief’ perpetrators of mass murder,” he concluded. Other research has backed this up.

More broadly, America does not have a monopoly on mental illness. That’s not to say more access to mental health care wouldn’t help; it could, for example, be effective for reducing the number of gun suicides. But mental health issues aren’t what make the US stand out in terms of gun violence.

The problem that’s unique to the US, instead, is guns — and America’s abundance of them.

As a breakthrough analysis by UC Berkeley’s Franklin Zimring and Gordon Hawkins in the 1990s found, it’s not even that the US has more crime than other developed countries. This chart, based on data from Jeffrey Swanson at Duke University, shows that the US is not an outlier when it comes to overall crime:

Instead, the US appears to have more lethal violence — and that’s driven in large part by the prevalence of guns.

”A series of specific comparisons of the death rates from property crime and assault in New York City and London show how enormous differences in death risk can be explained even while general patterns are similar,” Zimring and Hawkins wrote. “A preference for crimes of personal force and the willingness and ability to use guns in robbery make similar levels of property crime 54 times as deadly in New York City as in London.”

This is in many ways intuitive: People of every country get into arguments and fights with friends, family, and peers. But in the US, it’s much more likely that someone will get angry at an argument and be able to pull out a gun and kill someone.

The research also suggests that gun control can work. A 2016 review of 130 studies in 10 countries, published in Epidemiologic Reviews, found that new legal restrictions on owning and purchasing guns tended to be followed by a drop in gun violence — a strong indicator that restricting access to firearms can save lives.

Consider Australia’s example.

In 1996, a 28-year-old man walked into a cafe in Port Arthur, Australia, ate lunch, pulled a semiautomatic rifle out of his bag, and opened fire on the crowd, killing 35 people and wounding 23 more. It was the worst mass shooting in Australia’s history.

Australian lawmakers responded with legislation that, among other provisions, banned certain types of firearms, such as automatic and semiautomatic rifles and shotguns. The Australian government confiscated 650,000 of these guns through a mandatory buyback program, in which it purchased firearms from gun owners. It established a registry of all guns owned in the country and required a permit for all new firearm purchases. (This is much further than bills typically proposed in the US, which almost never make a serious attempt to immediately reduce the number of guns in the country.)

Australia’s firearm homicide rate dropped by about 42 percent in the seven years after the law passed, and its firearm suicide rate fell by 57 percent, according to a review of the evidence by Harvard researchers.

It’s difficult to know for sure how much of the drop in homicides and suicides was caused specifically by the gun buyback program and other legal changes. Australia’s gun deaths, for one, were already declining before the law passed. But researchers David Hemenway and Mary Vriniotis argue that the gun buyback program very likely played a role: “First, the drop in firearm deaths was largest among the type of firearms most affected by the buyback. Second, firearm deaths in states with higher buyback rates per capita fell proportionately more than in states with lower buyback rates.”

One study of the program, by Australian researchers, found that buying back 3,500 guns per 100,000 people correlated with up to a 50 percent drop in firearm homicides and a 74 percent drop in gun suicides. As Dylan Matthews explained for Vox, the drop in homicides wasn’t statistically significant because Australia already had a pretty low number of murders. But the drop in suicides most definitely was — and the results are striking.

Javier Zarracina/Vox

One other fact, noted by Hemenway and Vriniotis in 2011: “While 13 gun massacres (the killing of 4 or more people at one time) occurred in Australia in the 18 years before the [Australia gun control law], resulting in more than one hundred deaths, in the 14 following years (and up to the present), there were no gun massacres.”

A common counterpoint to the evidence on gun control: If it works so well, why does Chicago have so much gun violence despite having some of the strictest gun policies in the US?

White House press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders made this argument after the 2017 Las Vegas mass shooting: “I think if you look to Chicago, where you had over 4,000 victims of gun-related crimes last year, they have the strictest gun laws in the country. That certainly hasn’t helped there.”

It’s true that Chicago has fairly strict gun laws (although not the strictest). And it’s true that the city has fairly high levels of gun violence (although also not the worst in the US).

This doesn’t, however, expose the failure of gun control altogether, but rather the limits of leaving gun policies to a patchwork of local and state laws. The basic problem: If a city or state passes strict gun control measures, people can simply cross a border to buy guns in a jurisdiction with laxer laws.

Chicago, for example, requires a Firearm Owners Identification card, a background check, a three-day waiting period, and documentation for all firearm sales. But Indiana, across the border, doesn’t require any of this for purchases between two private individuals (including those at gun shows and those who meet through the internet), allowing even someone with a criminal record to buy a firearm without passing a background check or submitting paperwork recording the sale.

So someone from Chicago can drive across the border — to Indiana or to other places with lax gun laws — and buy a gun without any of the big legal hurdles he would face at home. Then that person can resell or give guns to others in Chicago, or keep them, leaving no paper trail behind. (This is illegal trafficking under federal law, but Indiana’s lax laws and enforcement — particularly the lack of a paper trail — make it virtually impossible to catch someone until a gun is used in a crime.)

The result: According to a 2014 report from the Chicago Police Department, nearly 60 percent of the guns in crime scenes that were recovered and traced between 2009 and 2013 came from outside the state. About 19 percent came from Indiana — making it the most common state of origin for guns besides Illinois.

This isn’t exclusive to Chicago. A 2016 report from the New York State Office of the Attorney General found that 74 percent of guns used in crimes in New York between 2010 and 2015 came from states with lax gun laws. (The gun trafficking chain from Southern states with weak gun laws to New York is so well-known it even has a name: “the Iron Pipeline.”) And another 2016 report from the US Government Accountability Office found that most of the guns — as many as 70 percent — used in crimes in Mexico, which has strict gun laws, can be traced back to the US, which has generally weaker gun laws.

That doesn’t mean the stricter gun laws in Chicago, New York, or any other jurisdiction have no effect, but it does limit how far these local and state measures can go, since the root of the problem lies in other places’ laws. The only way the pipeline could be stopped would be if all states individually strengthened their gun laws at once — or, more realistically, if the federal government passed a law that enforces stricter rules across the US.

America’s attention to gun control often focuses on a few specific measures: universal background checks, restrictions on people with mental illnesses buying firearms, and an assault weapons ban, for example. It is rare that American politicians, even on the left, go much further than that. Something like Australia’s law — which amounts to a confiscation program — is never seriously considered.

As Matthews previously explained, this is a big issue. The US’s gun problem is so dire that it arguably needs solutions that go way further than what we typically see in mainstream proposals — at least, if the US ever hopes to get down to European levels of gun violence.

If the fundamental problem is that America has far too many guns, then policies need to cut the number of guns in circulation right now to seriously reduce the number of gun deaths. Background checks and other restrictions on who can buy a gun can’t achieve that in the short term. What America likely needs, then, is something more like Australia’s mandatory buyback program — essentially, a gun confiscation scheme — paired with a serious ban on specific firearms (including, potentially, all semiautomatic weapons).

But no one in Congress is seriously proposing something that sweeping. The Manchin-Toomey bill, the only gun legislation in Congress after Sandy Hook that came close to becoming law, didn’t even establish universal background checks. Recent proposals have been even milder, taking small steps like banning bump stocks or slightly improving the existing system for background checks.

Part of the holdup is the Second Amendment. While there is reasonable scholarly debate about whether the Second Amendment actually protects all Americans’ individual right to bear arms and prohibits stricter forms of gun control, the reality is the Supreme Court and US lawmakers — backed by the powerful gun lobby, particularly the NRA — widely agree that the Second Amendment does put barriers on how far restrictions can go. That would likely rule out anything like the Australian policy response short of a court reinterpretation or a repeal of the Second Amendment, neither of which seems likely.

So the US, for political, cultural, and legal reasons, seems to be unable to take the action that it really needs.

None of that is to say that milder measures are useless. Connecticut’s law requiring handgun purchasers to first pass a background check and obtain a license, for example, was followed by a 40 percent drop in gun homicides and a 15 percent reduction in handgun suicides. Similar results — in the reverse — were reported in Missouri when it repealed its own permit-to-purchase law. It’s difficult to separate these changes from long-term trends (especially since gun homicides have generally been on the decline for decades now), but a review of the evidence by RAND linked milder gun control measures, including background checks, to reduced injuries and deaths — and that means these measures likely saved lives.

There are also some evidence-based policies that could help outside the realm of gun control, including more stringent regulations and taxes on alcohol, changes in policing, and behavioral intervention programs.

But if America wants to get to the levels of gun deaths that its European peers report, it will likely need to go much, much further on guns in particular.

Original Source -> I’ve covered gun violence for years. The solutions aren’t a big mystery.

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

[siphanhyphen-blog]

DOES SOMEONE WANT TO PROOF- READ THIS FOR ME?! I’m writing a book…

SIPHAN & HYPHEN NEWS:  

PROPOSAL: What if sound resonating at 528Hz is all that is needed to “rip up” the radioactive soil & wash the negativity clean?

AUG 3 2017

ARTICLE WRITTEN BY: Danielle Patoir Aka “Patoirlove” or character/ persona: Siphan

WHAT IF frequencies like 528HZ & 432Hz could clear out the radioactivity in & around Ridgewood Queens?? What if prayer and positive vibes could alter the vibration of a place enough to clear out any damage that has already taken place?

What if it doesn’t matter if Trump cuts the funds of the EPA.. even if I don’t agree with it..? (as I am all for helping the environment) Just maybe it doesn’t matter because we can help the environment without him. We can better the world with those who actually want to make a difference towards world peace. We can make the calls.

Let’s start with one specific location at a time perhaps. Let’s start with “the RAKit Club” which is in one of the warehouses noted on the site to be affected by radioactivity. This same “radioactive” place has been my welcoming “home” for part of this year, 2017. It is an artist safe- haven that deserves to be “safe”; & what I like to call my “dream land”- heaven on earth. The last thing I want to see is this place torn to the ground but let’s focus on what we DO WANT instead of what we don’t, right? I see a place that can make an impact on  the world for the better; in endless ways. RAKit Club is magical & if we could focus on that it would go a long way. It is definitely a spiritual space that is healing in itself  & could be healed by waves of sound & prayer if we believe in it. “Miracles” happen everyday & thoughts become things. Choose them wisely.

What you focus on, you create. So focus your attention consciously, and do not allow your attention to stray to results that you aren't interested in manifesting. Because you can, and will, create more of what you are focusing on.~ Mary Morrissey

Let’s clear out the radioactivity without having to tear anything down, so people can stay where they are.. Let’s build the community up instead of wrecking it down. It is time to change the course of history. The world in general can use some help but first... Here are our starting points: the longitude & latitude lines of location: RAKit Club:

RAKit Club: https://www.facebook.com/rakitclub/

In a place called Ridgewood Queens (though feels like Bushwick- Brooklyn) lies an artist haven called “RAKit Club”. People come from near & far to visit this oasis as it also hosts air b’n’b for travelers world-wide & has a music venue set up & ready for performers. Saying this place is amazing doesn’t cut it or even come close to what it could become. It’s light years beyond its time; it’s another dimension where possibilities are endless. Who wants in? Warning: you may never want to leave & you can pretty much do anything you need there.

Recently, I have been wanting to create an entire show wrapped around the concept of RAKit Club. I thought it would be entertaining (to say the least) if we filmed our lives here in “dream world” & “aired” the good vibes for others to “tune into”.  I thought we could have “live- streaming”- life “events” which would basically be gigantic “gift- giving” parties where we offer our “life gifts” (passions/ talents etc); aka as sharing “dream-life”. See how things circle around infinitely? What has been done…. Can it be undone? Pull the ribbon..  open the box… look inside it. I mean it’s been inside you the entire time. YOU apparently are the UNIVERSE… So.. If a place is radioactive… what is that telling you about yourself? What about chakras? Here’s where chakra healing comes in & I talk about how the different tones resonate, just like the different colors do, of the 7 energy centers. This could be an entire book in itself.

Anyway, going back to this “article” on “Siphan & Hyphen News”, if that’s what you want to call it... The news reporter informed me how this area is RADIOACTIVE & the EPA was planning an entire project to clear it out. As much as I am all for the environment & helping it, I was disappointed when I heard this statement. I thought: “Where will everyone go? Demolish the area?” The news reporter continued to update me… she told me how TRUMP was planning on cutting the funds of the EPA however by ~31% so they would NOT have the resources to do the project. I for once actually felt a sort of relief by this information despite feeling confusion since Trump is pretty much opposite everything I believe & trust. I just want to see RAKit Club flourishing.. & that involves it still standing. My mission was to build this up… it’s been my “foundation” when I was “flying” around...I thought to myself. I didn’t know how to respond to her questions & I guess I mumbled enough at the time that she luckily decided to go with the other interviews she gathered. Anyway, it left me pondering.. & now I write.

WHAT IF WE DON’T NEED THE FUNDING?! WHAT IF WE COULD DO THIS WITHOUT DEMOLISHING THE AREA??! OR WITHOUT EVACUATING BUSINESSES & PEOPLE FROM THEIR HOMES?!

INTRODUCTION

My name is Danielle Patoir but I like to go by my character persona “Siphan” when it comes to this story & proposal. As a sound healer who has been studying music, the body & mind, the chakras & the corresponding frequencies when tuned in 528hz; I cannot help but wonder...

The other day, I was interviewed by Lori Chung from the Spectrum News Channel - News1 in Brooklyn, New York about my thoughts about what is going on in the world; when to be honest; I don’t watch the news much so she had to fill me in. People fill me in usually within 16 seconds (since Abraham Hicks says more thoughts of that frequency pour in after 17 seconds) because I simply cannot handle the low vibrations. I am constantly focusing on my dreams & the change I want to see in the world. Anyway, the specific question the news reporter, Lori Chung, asked me, was about the location we both were standing in… the street right outside of the RAKit Club in NYC.

www.patoirlovemusic.com

FROM Twitter @patoirlove

TO: Twitter: @NY1 @lorichung @EPA @realDonaldTrump @POTUS

Some examples of sound healing can be found on YouTube. I have created a playlist for those specifically related to what I am about to embark on…

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQpkafyDQXsLiTRqFSohAg7Yuh90Z_iNh

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Where there is a “problem”.. there ought to be a “solution”.. It is just the matter of looking deeper in the direction & getting the right people together to do something about it…” I am going to need help with this project as I cannot do this alone. Any sound healers who want to come join us in a circle & perform some tunes, please do. Those who want to round up some more research with the intention of actually finding answers or useful information; please do. As ridiculous as it sounds, in life & in this “example” situation; it comes down to the power of belief, the power of intention, our thoughts, energy, & vibration. I mean even Tesla said it; ““If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration.”

― Nikola Tesla

This is EXACTLY what I am doing here. I am pondering other possibilities because I feel there has to be an alternative way.

TO QUOTE him again: Every living being is an engine geared to the wheelwork of the universe. Though seemingly affected only by its immediate surrounding, the sphere of external influence extends to infinite distance. Nikola Tesla

Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/n/nikolatesl596908.html

What if you found out your “home” was “radioactive”? I am “actively” going to have to put this on the “radio” because we apparently create our realities. SO, why is this even a thing? Though that makes me wonder about radio frequencies now…

528Hz is the sound of Love however, there are many conspiracy theorists out there that believe that modern day music, TV commercials and the like are programmed at a lower and unnatural 440Hz frequency which is designed to stimulate fear, sickness and oppression. 440Hz is an unnatural tuning frequency and according to Dr. Leonard Horowitz “the music industry features this imposed frequency that is herding populations into greater aggression, psycho social agitation and emotional distress predisposing people to physical illness.” The theory is that the 440Hz frequency was adopted during the Nazi regime in order to control prisoners and lower their consciousness. Then in 1940 the US introduced 440Hz as the standard frequency.

http://foreverconscious.com/sound-healing-528hz-the-frequency-of-love-and-miracles

So as noted in the site above, we are constantly around these negative frequencies. What if even for ONE DAY ALL AT ONCE we did the opposite of the atomic bomb & “hit” the town with 528Hz??? Press the button. What if we changed the constant frequencies that surround us a little bit & washed away the negativity as if we were washing dirt off our plates. I can tell you we are more than capable of playing 528Hz on our phones as we travel around via  YouTube videoes; I do it all the time. Maybe make it a game & “light up some paths.”..

Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. Albert Einstein

NEWS IN A BUBBLE

LOCATION: Superfund Site: WOLFF-ALPORT CHEMICAL COMPANY

RIDGEWOOD, NY

https://cumulis.epa.gov/supercpad/cursites/csitinfo.cfm?id=0206479

Here is the article: http://www.ny1.com/nyc/all-boroughs/news/2017/07/27/epa-has-plan-to-clean-up-former-chemical-plant-in-ridgewood.html

To quote it: There's a new multimillion dollar plan aimed at cleaning up the site of a former chemical plant in Queens. The Environmental Protection Agency is proposing a nearly $40 million clean-up of radioactive waste at the Wolff-Alport Chemical Company on Cooper Avenue and Moffat Street in Ridgewood. The plant operated between 1920 and 1954, processing radioactive chemicals for the development of nuclear weapons. The EPA plans on permanently relocating some businesses, demolishing contaminated buildings, and getting rid of contaminated soil. But with the Trump administration mulling over slashing the agency's budget, some worry if they will have enough funds to complete the project.

The questions that arise in my mind are: Who is measuring the radioactivity? Also, how? I want to speak with you so if you are reading this article please reach out. Can we expose the area to constant sound frequencies until it is all cleared up & how much exposure would be necessary? Yes, this might sound far fetched a bit but I will continue to find things that back this method up as a possibility to say the least.

This entire thing is also proving that if we all decided that we don’t NEED money at all… we wouldn’t. It is the made up in between. What we need are people who actually care & are willing to do something about it, working together as a team. What would you like to see happen? Are you one who cares enough about planet earth or this situation that you would like to sign a mailing list?.. ‘Cos I have a making a list… ( button on website: www.patoirlovemusic.com) NOTE: We are actively looking for sponsors for RAKit Club. Feel free to send me comments, concerns, questions..

SITE HISTORY/ BACKGROUND: Superfund Site: WOLFF-ALPORT CHEMICAL COMPANY

https://cumulis.epa.gov/supercpad/cursites/csitinfo.cfm?id=0206479

I QUOTE the website (link above):

The Wolff-Alport Chemical Company Superfund site is located at 1125 to 1139 Irving Avenue and 1514 Cooper Avenue in Ridgewood, Queens, New York on the border with Bushwick, Brooklyn, New York. This nearly triangular area covers approximately 0.75 acres and is bound by Irving Avenue to the southwest, Cooper Avenue to the northwest, and a former cabinet manufacturing facility to the east. At present, the property is covered, primarily, with contiguous structures, except for a former rail spur along its edge, which is an unpaved area where tracks are no longer present and is currently used for automobile storage. The on-site buildings contain a delicatessen/grocery, office space, residential apartments, several auto repair shops, and warehousing space.

The Wolff-Alport Chemical Company operated at the Site from the early 1920s until 1954, importing monazite sand from the Belgian Congo and extracting rare earth metals from the material. Monazite contains 6-8% or more of thorium. Until 1947, the Wolff-Alport Chemical Company disposed of the thorium waste from monazite sand processing in the sewer and possibly by burial on the property. Recent investigations have indicated that residual contamination still exists on-site and in or around the sewer lines downstream of the facility.

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Thoughts flash in my head..  I have to contact whoever is measuring this radioactivity.. How is it done? Because for over a year now… I have known about the frequency of 528Hz… aka “the miracle tone” the frequency of LOVE. I have also known about experiments done with messages of “LOVE” verses “HATE” & seen how geometric patterns result when exposed to “love” rather than chaos with “hate”. I also read that 528Hz has been known to clear polluted waters in New Mexico. Let me continue my research..which I will do if I have the time.. But WHAT IF 528HZ is the answer to clearing up the toxicity of the radioactivity? And in an even greater scale: What if 528Hz is the answer to peace on earth?

----------------

First, I guess we need to define what is “RADIOACTIVITY” exactly….

Definition of radioactivity (according to wiki)

:  the property possessed by some elements (such as uranium) or isotopes (such as carbon 14) of spontaneously emitting energetic particles (such as electrons or alpha particles) by the disintegration of their atomic nuclei; also :  the rays emitted

https://nuclear-energy.net/definitions/radioactivity.html :

Radioactivity defined as the spontaneous emission of particles (alpha, beta, neutron) or radiation (gamma, K capture), or both at the same time, from the decay of certain nuclides that these particles are, due to an adjustment of their internal structure.

Radioactivity can be natural or artificial. In natural radioactivity, the substance already has radioactivity in the natural state. In artificial radioactivity, the radioactivity has been induced by irradiation.

Explaining measuring radioactivity: https://www.nrc.gov/about-nrc/radiation/health-effects/measuring-radiation.html

Another good source: http://altered-states.net/barry/newsletter450/

Ok, So I guess some SCIENCE is coming in here..

Also, what exactly happened here (history-wise) when it comes to the RAKit Club’s location? Can we do some experiments where we all get together to play music tuned to the particular 528Hz  tone? How long until we see a notable difference? Maybe the best way to do this is an event? I still have a lot of questions & a lot of researching to do but I wanted to get this started. The more people throwing thoughts out there of possible solutions anyway, the better.

Well, I can tell you something.. That I was planning to have an event the week of my birthday.. A month from now.. September 6th for other reasons.. But I feel this can be the best gift at all. I wanted everyone to gather around & share their “gifts” meaning their “life purposes”, their “passions”, their “knowledge”, what they love to talk about, their visions & dreams & pursuits… I wanted to create an event to celebrate life where we all can enjoy one another’s company in an amazing uplifting environment... which is planned to happen at RAKit CLub. I also wanted it to be a “SHOW” that can be aired since I love acting & live with others that do as well. Let’s make skits, let’s paint, let’s make music, let’s do some yoga, meditate, dance, exercise in all different forms, enjoy the garden outside, breathe, converse, etc etc… but ALSO.. let’s help HEAL the world. My overall mission as well as what seems to be RAKit Clubs’ is WORLD PEACE. “FIXING” this area with sound would be a small stepping stone but a pebble if you will of PEACE. If we can “HEAL” the vibrations of everything going on around here.. We could heal the world through sound as well.. It just takes A LOT of people coming together with the same vibrations. The facts are many people tune in different frequencies; the standard being 440Hz rather than 444Hz= A (when in 528Hz). It is known that the chakras resonate with the frequencies as well.. I can write an entire book on this however.

COMMUNITY “SERVICE”- MISSION- WHY THIS COULD WORK

“Everything in this Universe, including you is vibrating at a frequency. This is because you and everything around you is energy. The energy of the Earth vibrates at a 528Hz frequency which is the same frequency as Love, the Universal Healer. The frequency of 528Hz is believed to be so powerful that it can help repair and restore DNA damage, bring peace and harmony and restore equilibrium to everything around it.” I suggest reading this article if you are interested because I want to quote the entire thing: http://foreverconscious.com/sound-healing-528hz-the-frequency-of-love-and-miracles

“Famous physicist, Nikola Tesla also researched energetic frequencies and claimed that if we could eliminate certain frequencies that interfered with our bodies then we could lower the chances of disease.”

We can do this together with the power of thought…  To quote Mary Morrisey:

Nature herself does not distinguish between what seed it receives. It grows whatever seed is planted; this is the way life works. Be mindful of the seeds you plant today, as they will become the crop you harvest.

~Mary Morrissey

OVERALL MISSION STATEMENT-  MEASUREMENTS- FOLLOW UPS

We will have to have the radioactivity constantly measured.. Which I am still looking into how it all gets done.

SOURCES- FUNDING

So, you might be thinking.. “How much will this cost?” or “We could do this without money you just need some people to play some music over & over again”. Well, yes we can have people play 528Hz for FREE; we just need freedom & the time to do so but there is this thing called “society” which revolves around this made up green stuff so ….? How can we function in it? I am not going to lie, it would be wonderful if we could raise enough money so that everyone in RAKit Club who is working on this project can live for free & have an amp supply of all necessities including food, drink, clean water, toiletries & other house appliances, music equipment, etc etc & the time to pursue this all with their travels paid for if necessary. Perhaps some sort of “gift” giving exchange needs to take place? Perhaps a cook wants to come cook for us, a barista wants to make coffee for us? Perhaps a crew wants to film & document this entire project? We need camera men & women, video editors, scientists, writers/ reporters/ bloggers, more musicians & artists, environmentalists, perhaps herbal doctors?, what else? Who else? Are you interested & how can you help? What role suits you? Perhaps all the necessary roles can be filled & all that is needed can be delivered to us? It almost feels like we are creating an alliance with the EPA or forming a non- profit. What’s next? To be honest, if this sound healing works; this is worth a trillion bucks.. because it is a breakthrough for humankind- it would be proof we can heal the world through sound. Tune in.

Let’s first throw an event to start this off. Perhaps the “events” could be looked at as the yin to the yang if the yang were the atomic bombs and weapons going off producing the toxic wastes & radioactivity. Let’s disappear into that equilibrium line.

We can make this our “full- time real jobs” where we play healing vibes both at the venue & streaming through technology all over the world. Would you hire me as a “sound healer” because I need a job (side- note hah). Anyway, we can throw events in the space one after another; but first let’s start with one this September (my birthday week -2017). How about those who cannot make it to the space (as there is also a limit to how comfortable it would be), can tune in & play the 528Hz through their screen to help the world mission branch out. I propose we get everyone together & play 528hz for a few days in a row (like a mini music festival) that can revolve around different life-styles.

I guess we would need to pay whoever is running the scientific tests so they can also function in the outside world unless they are down for “gift exchanging out of interest & passion” as well. Many of us here at RAKit club are devoted to the dream & are starting a MOVEMENT to help not only the people here in New York but the entire world. How about you just “pay what you want” towards this if you believe in this entire intention & project.. If you want to.. because you are donating to a good cause. This is a cause which will have many mini missions that are merely stepping stones towards the overall mission of WORLD PEACE. Let us live in harmony & start with the 528Hz to have a clean new slate… ;) Namaste.

I’ll end this by quoting myself again because I am told we are special beings with gifts to share; just drop the ego… & there is no ego here… nor egg ‘cos I’m vegan. Jokes.

“All I want for my 32nd birthday is for everyone in the world to tune into 528Hz… & play it loud & clear.. & observe with feeling... what is happening... “

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#SiphanandHyphen article news NY1 RidgewoodNY radioactive NewYork RAKitClub musicians 528Hz soundhealing music Patoirlove