#and trying to both grieve the loss but also celebrate the incredible life of someone so beloved

[teamhawkeye]

there are so many things that can be said in regards to grief, and yet no words can ever truly convey the depth and breadth of the agony it leaves you with

[mysticraven20]

I’m excited to announce that this year I have once again taken part in the @mlbigbang

‘The Situationship’ will begin releasing on Friday 5th January (my birthday 🥳) as a special celebration. Then chapters will follow on a Sunday.

This year I have been paired up with the incredibly talented @peonyfanart and Miraculouslyshellie and I cannot wait to share the artwork for the fic! I am completely overwhelmed by what I’ve seen so far and I cannot thank you both enough for choosing this fic to work on 💗

Also, a huge thank you to my beta @uptoolateart for being magnificent and such a wonderful support, and also Lorena for reading through for inconsistencies in the story line.

Be prepared for 32 chapters of shenanigans, chaos and fun — with a twist

The Situationship

Synopsis: What if ‘the one’ split into two…?

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Lady Luck herself, has finally fallen on her feet after years of playing catch-up. Her boss, Mary Humphries of The House of Humphries, has invited her to be first assistant at an important meeting in London with none other than Gabriel.

But with bad luck seemingly always knocking on her door, she needs to make sure she doesn’t ruin this opportunity — which is easier said than done.

When she mistakes handsome, geeky looking Adrien Agreste as Gabriel’s personal assistant, suddenly she seems to have magicked up some luck.

They could not be more different in personality, yet after surviving a rather interesting Akuma together, a strange and exciting friendship begins… It’s just a shame one person doesn’t agree.

Someone who happens to be his ‘other half’.

Except:

Absent-mindedly, she reached out and grabbed her Chat Noir plushy, holding it tightly against her chest and feeling the bubbling emotion edge to break free. She didn’t want to leave him, not when she’d just figured it all out, when she’d figured out what she wanted them to be. It wasn’t just Paris she was unwilling to let go of — it was her partner too.

They’d been dating for just over three months, and what a blissful three months they’d had! But now it was all prematurely ending. They’d known this would happen. They’d known when they decided to give it a try that there was an expiration date looming over them. Both understood that their lives were about to take drastic changes in direction – but they’d decided to do it anyway, to finally give in to their overwhelming feelings — even if it had a short shelf life.

And now, the inevitable was happening and she hated it. More than anyone could ever imagine.

Alya stood from her position, making her way around the back of Marinette and wrapping her arms around her neck, her chin perched protectively on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Marinette nodded in response, aware the bubbling had finally broken free, spilling over and making a great escape down her cheeks. Alya knew the heartbreak she experienced every time she thought of leaving her partner. It felt like a divorce. Like a bereavement.

Every time Marinette thought of saying goodbye to her partner it was as though her heart had been ripped out. Nothing more than a confetti of complicated and complex emotions.

“I just… I…” She broke down, tears falling as she buried her face in her hands and grieved the loss of the most important thing in her life.

The sobs continued late into the darkness of night, as she and Chat Noir said their final goodbyes. Their hands were joined tightly together as they sat under the moonlight.

They were spending their last remaining hours together on their rooftop — exactly where they should be, spending hours talking into the darkness of night, reminiscing and conversing about nothing and everything – Chat Noir being his usual fun self even through the heartache he easily displayed on his sleeve. He was an open book to her, an encyclopaedia of all that was good and sweet in this world. No one would ever come close to him, and she understood that. No one was Chat Noir.

“You’re my true love,” he said. “And, as in the fairytales, true love will always prevail — because it's strong, and we’re strong. Stronger together.”

Marinette didn’t know where he was going, or what he was doing, but the pain of having to say a final farewell hurt more than anything she had done before, both giving in to one more night of passion before reluctantly leaving in the early hours of the morning.

Later that day, he left Paris.

Three weeks later, she did too.

[companionship]

okay one big post to get the finale out of my system! it's been lovely reading all of your analyses and reactions, and looking at all your amazing gifs and edits :')

fair warning: this is going to be so stinking long omfg

the things i enjoyed:

vincenzo remaining an anti-hero through and through, especially the fact that he didn't hold back at all when it came to myunghee and hanseok's death. he gave them a taste of their own medicine and then some forreal, their deaths were brutal but oddly satisfying, and i'm saying this as someone who usually hates violence/gore. throughout the show, they've always hinted at what he was Truly Capable Of and boy did we get to see it

vincenzo fumbling in hanseok's house and not being his usual self – a lot of people thought it was ooc, which i understand! i felt like that was the Point, to show that for once, he's not the invincible mafia consigliere that everyone thinks he is. what he did to the man who killed his mother and the army of security guards was a reaction, but this is the first time he's flustered, caught at a disadvantage, and faced with the very real possibility that he might lose somebody incredibly important to him. idk it made him more human to me

vincenzo literally not hesitating for even 0.1 seconds to fold his entire body around hers when he thought hanseok was going to shoot again – yeah that whole bit made my heart clench i feel like a crazy person i won't get over it

the chayenzo hospital scene... my god it was so tender my heart broke. the laugh they both shared, out of sheer relief that she's okay. the little joke about paying for the private room. the way not much was being said, but everything was being said at once. the way they looked at each other, as if it wouldnt ever be enough :( the quiet acceptance that this is their last night together, and that he's going to have to kill a bunch of people after this, but for now they have this. for however brief.

chayoung being chayoung – her big ass personality at the courtroom at the end after winning ms oh's case. her hopping around in those heels, looking elegant and sleek, mocking the hell out of rich conglomorates. she's in her element again and it made me so, so happy to see. i absolutely adore her, she's everything really. after all that loss and the whole ordeal, i'm glad she's able to return to what she does best: putting capitalists back in their place

mr lee being Very Much Not Dead – idk how i wouldve been able to handle it after witnessing hanseo's death like im glad he got the chance to be a dad

the kiss – my god....

the things i didn't like:

hanseo's death – lmao is it even a surprise... say what you will about his death being foreshadowed, but i really just hated hated it. i hate that hanseok won this one. i hate that hanseo worked so hard to redeem himself, only to lose it all. i hate that he was given a taste of what a real family was like, and then having it taken away so cruelly. even though i said above that i didn't mind that vincenzo was ooc at the mansion, i was still screaming at the screen because there were plenty of opportunities for the situation to be reversed. i don't necessarily blame vincenzo for hanseo's death, but i do wish that they had a funeral scene for him. i wish they acknowledged his sacrifice, and how pivotal he was in turning the tables. if not for hanseo, vincenzo really couldn't have pulled any of this off, from the interpol tipoff to the tracking device in the watch. idc idc hanseo is in malta rn, enjoying the sun and the beach, going to therapy, and teaching the local kids how to play hockey even though there's no ice :(

chayoung being bedridden the whole finale – like... NAH lmao this aint it chief... if things went my way, she wouldve gotten out of the hospital depite her injury and dealt with myunghee before handing her off to vincenzo. i loved their animosity for each other, and i wanted chayoung to be the one at myunghee's apartment waiting for her, rubbing it into her face. i wanted chayoung to verbally finish myunghee with that sharp ass tongue of hers and really dump a load of salt on her wounds. then vincenzo could do whatever the hell he wanted. you could argue that the show is called Vincenzo but i really dont care lmao it started with chayoung avenging her dad and she should've been able to strike the final blow. also what was her big second party? are we really just going to ignore her capacity for evil? after all that moral work done, after that time she spent coming to terms with using evil to combat evil, we're just going to... keep her bedridden? park jaebum u will pay for this

vincenzo losing his family – besides hanseo's death, i think this was what i hated the most from the ending. the start of the show showed us vincenzo's departure from the mafia with the very clear intention of Not Returning. the capo died, his loyalties lie with no one, paolo can suck it. throughout the show, we see him repeat over and over that he wants to get the gold and skip off to malta to enjoy a peaceful life there, while reflecting/repenting for the things he's done. vincenzo was gearing up for a lifetime of solitude. the whole point of the show was for him to find a real family and have a real chance at happiness. park jaebum really said FUCK THAT! we're gonna have him ditch the family that he built from scratch with the love of his life and then make him return to the family that tried to kill him AND make him the capo... pjb said we're gonna separate vincenzo from the family that accepts his past and sees it as a strength and not a weakness. the family that was formed out of solidarity, the family that he fought for and fought alongside with blood, sweat and tears. not to mention the goddaughter of his? sorry i would laugh if it didn't actually rile me up so bad

vincenzo not being able to come back to korea – i've said this in another post of mine, but given that he is The Vincenzo Cassano with all those resources at his disposal (guillotine file, mr ahn/mr cho/the chief etc.), the fact that he isnt even able to stay in korea for 30 fuckin minutes after finishing hanseok was ridiculous. the whole police chase was dumb as hell considering that the show has managed to stop politicians and mf presidential candidates from going after him like ? huh LMAO park jaebum had an on-demand pigeon army in this show and Yet he can't stop like 10 suddenly-righteous policemen. another big ass HUH

chayenzo (here we go...):

NOPE! i've reflected on the ending and decided that i'm going to be petty and salty for a while more before coming to terms with it

i can rationalise and try to be positive and tell myself that their love is enduring can transcend space and time and that in due time, they will find their way back to each other, and i have no doubt that they will because they're one soul in two bodies. it's quite literally canon that they're soulmates.

but let me wallow for a second

here we have two people who have done questionable and terrible things in their past coming together, growing together, grieving together, fighting together... you get the gist of it. you have two people who have found a home in each other. two people who, for all intents and purposes, were about to live in a whole lot of bitterness and solitude if not for each other and the life they built together (chayoung didn't have friends like that, and her family is gone too). to separate them like that at the very end is cruel. i know chayoung and vincenzo are mature and incredible and will be able to function without the other next to them. i know that they will still excel as lawyers and will defeat evil with their underhand methods the way they do so well but my god are they going to feel the absence and miss each other

my point is that they shouldn't have to. from what i could tell, they can't even communicate on a regular basis bc he'll be tracked and whatnot, hence the postcards. a postcard every month is a poor substitute for all those nights they stayed up drinking makgeolli and celebrating their wins. its a shitty replacement for coffee dates and fist bumps and all the moments in between. after everything they've been through, after literally fighting to death for their family, they don't deserve this. they don't deserve to meet up once a year for a couple of hours. they don't deserve pockets of time in malta or korea, their life in a perpetual countdown to when they're going to see each other next

they both deserve love and some semblance of peace (finally finally). they both deserve to have someone to come home to after a hard day of work, because doing what they do cannot be easy. they both deserve a family, deserve to have someone next to them that accepts their past and would embrace their future. they both deserve a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on. i know they will still be It for each other despite the distance, i just wish the distance didn't even exist in the first place bc its stupid and cruel and their love shouldnt have to be proven or tested with time and space. let them stay together. let them grow together. let them be.

side note: song joongki and jeon yeobeen need another project together idc take it up with god

tl;dr: park jaebum u will be paying for my therapy bills

[iguessishouldbethankful]

BOUNCING OFF THE ASK I ANSWERED rant about [pairing] FOR FALUCY? TY ILY 💕💕

SHIP ASKS:

TW: Death, depression, suicidal ideation.

Can it be a good rant? Because let me tell you something...

Out of all the female characters that Star Fox had, for some reason, I fell hard for Lucy Hare back in 2010. Why? I have no idea. All I know is that playing Star Fox Command made me adore her more than I should. And of course, seeing as Falco is my big favorite in the entire series, I wanted to ship them. But at the time I had no idea how to--I was also not as active in the RP community then so most of it were skin deep ideas and maybes.

Until I jumped in deep back in the end of 2018.

You see... I made a Lucy Hare Rp blog and I went deep into Lucy’s character and headcanons. Her history, her motives, etc. And a lot of my headcanons for Vivian Hare comes from Immy’s version of Vivian so shout outs for her. Anyway, I started to think about Lucy’s past and her relationship to the Star Fox team and it occured to me that Lucy would have been introduced to Falco when she was 16, a year before the war. And there was absolutely no romantic interest between the two. Falco was new and super awkward around everywhere and probably not exactly all that friendly at first. And Lucy? She was fucking salty. Salty like the depths of the Dead Sea. Why?

BECAUSE FALCO TOOK HER SPOT IN THE TEAM.

Peppy and Fox denied her entry to the Star Fox team because, well, Peppy didn’t want to lose his daughter, and she was too young, and Vivian needed someone to help her around. So Lucy was stuck and incredibly sour about it--the reject, so to speak. But she never said anything to Falco. Instead she just forced a smile, being daddy’s and mommy’s good little girl.

Be the good girl.

Dealing with the war, protecting her mother, dealing with her strong crush to Fox because of course she would have a crush on Fox. They were inseparable as kids, why wouldn’t she have a crush on him? Why wouldn’t she be hopeful of being his right hand pilot, or even a strategist. Go to the Academy, be a team with Slippy and Bill like they always dreamed of! She didn’t expect James to ever die and change her father’s mind, or for Fox to break his promise... For things to change.

Finishing the Academy after the war, graduating as a pilot, but decides to go to college afterwards because, well... She didn’t want anything to do with piloting. Her heart broke. So Astrophysics it was. She’s very smart, but of course being rejected stung enough that it did make her question if this was what she really wanted to do. 

It didn’t matter, do what you can. Keep an eye on mother. They survived the war, Peppy was out there with Fox still. They’ll be back soon. They’d be able to talk about stuff and she’d feel better.

Thing is, Peppy hardly returned home at all. Answered calls less and less, trying to maintain the Great Fox together was the lack of jobs was increasing. And Lucy was feeling too numb to even have a reaction--as her mother was slowly wasting away. You see, Vivian has a rare rabbit disease that usually affects the females of the family. She’d slowly lose feelings and become paralyzed. It got worse after the war. Lucy was taking care of Vivian up until they moved her to the hospital.

Soon, Vivian could only breathe because the machines manually did it for her. Lucy was too numb to care about her father. When she finally reached him, it was an emergency call. Dad, she’s gone.

You see...

The second time Lucy met Falco, was during Vivian Hare’s funeral. Lucy was emotionless, possibly perceived strong, but she had cried her eyes out before hand. Whereas everyone comforted Peppy instead. The rabbit was devastated. Falco mostly kept to himself, silent as well. There was nothing to really talk about. He... wasn’t good with grief. He wasn’t good with loss.

It scared him.

A year after this happened, Falco left the team, and Lucy graduated from college and left Corneria for an Academy job on Fichina. there was nothing but silence and cold from all corners fr a long time. And Lucy kept tabs on the team, hoping maybe one day she’d get closer to them but understood her father’s reluctance about the subject. Give it time, he was grieving too.

So Lucy became accustomed to the frigid world of Fichina. The underground city layout due to the intense weather it had. The lack of sun. The rising rates of depression and ideation, limited resources because everything needed to be imported, and her having only so many cadets interested in her subject despite it being important. They wanted to fly, not study. Slowly, her heart was very limited. Her smile plastered on to hide the fact that she was still hurt and a little angry.

And one day, she calls in to her father and finds out that Falco returned and that they also had a new member to the Star Fox team that would be taking his place. Oh? Yes. Meet Krystal.

....oh....

Someone that had no Academy training, someone that had no prior history with flying, someone that has no connections to the team until recently... Someone that she was presented to and said that adored Peppy as though he were her own father. To Lucy, it was like tearing open so many old scars, letting the wounds fester. Especially when she saw the dreamy look on Fox’s face. The smiling look on Peppy’s face.

...I see.

Be the good girl.

Smile. Be supportive. Be happy that her father would soon be retiring. That they would... have a good pilot. That they were getting back on their feet again and quickly hired on to chase Andrew’s Rebellion that was quickly rising. Smile through the coming months of constant worry ad waiting for the retirement to come--soon she’d finally have her father closer to her. Hopefully. Smile as the Aparoids attacked Fichina, putting many lives in jeopardy. Smile as Peppy never answered her calls.

Smile when Fox finally contacts her, explaining what happened after they invaded the Aparoid home world,how Peppy almost lost his life.

Enough.

Lucy broke. She shrieked. Fox never saw his childhood friend hold so much fury before. None of the team did. Not even Peppy. Not even when Lucy was rejected to be part of the team. It lead them to visit Fichina and let Lucy confront her father, convincing him to finally retire. He was left there by the team and Lucy finally had him close to her for once.

Only for a few months however. General Pepper had chosen Peppy to take his place. Good things only lasted for a little while. The Star Fox team also broke apart yet again.It was funny how bitterness could bring Lucy and Krystal together as friends. Even if it was skin deep, Lucy still appreciated the vulpine. Funny how only then, when Fox was trying to set records straight with Star Wolf, dealing with the Anglar rising did Lucy finally get a chance to spread her wings and defend her new home. Fight along side the remains of what was the Star Fox team. Again, good things only lasted for a while.

Slippy was engaged ad about to marry in a few weeks. Soon after, so was Fox and Krystal. The team was dismantling for good. Fox’s wedding was the confirmation of his decision. A peace well needed for the family, or so, Lucy hoped. Despite the fury she spat at the team about Peppy almost dying, she never got the chance to truly say what she felt. To spill all the poison she had. And it felt as though, when James died, her world just broke apart as well. She lost her own father due to an all consuming guilt that was too focused and forgetful and selfish.

Seeing Peppy walk Krystal down the aisle to Fox was a reminder of that. A punch to the gut. So much Lucy hoped for, hoping she’d be accepted or seen, she’d been ignoring her own chances to be happy. Spent a while life waiting for a father or a glance her way from a team that really didn’t do the same. Why should they? She was never meant to be part of them. The wedding just made everything around Lucy break the bits of hope she had, realizing that... she waited for nothing really. She’d go back home to a frigid rock and she’d be there, waking up to the cold sunless planet, with cadets that didn’t care much about her classes and a father that was barely there for her.

And she didn’t want to go back. Honestly she didn’t want to go on. During the wedding reception, Lucy quietly left on foot. She even smiled when no one noticed when she was gone. No one texted her on her phone. No one called her. 30 minutes, a walk from the celebration hall to a long lonely bridge. Shoes off, climbing up the railing. Take in the rushing river, the moon, the wind that made her aqua dress move like waves. No one would notice, really.

Desperation was funny like that. A moment of weakness.

‘I don’t get how you’re not cold. The metal’s freezing to me.’

Falco leans up against the railing next to her, surprising her. Soon, both of them were watching the moonlight as she talked to her. Possibly the first real conversation they truly had. Lucy was stunned to notice that he had noticed her leave quietly. How?

‘You had that look on your face. The kind your dad had when your mom passed away. Just no crying.’

Lucy asked how did he know. How could he know what was going through her mind? To him, it was easy only because... he was feeling it too. When Lucy had chances to become something else, Falco really had none of that. No family to return to, no real drive to find another purpose. Flying is all he’s good at and the Star Fox team was all he really had. It was home. A family. That was now gone. It also didn’t help that he also had a thing for Fox. He lost that too because he was a fool. He left when he shouldn’t have.

This sort of confession was something Lucy needed to hear. To pull her out of herself and not focus so much on what she lost. It was enough to make her regret what went through her mind when she climbed the railing of the bridge. And Falco helped her down.

‘I don’t want to go back there.’

‘That’s fine, I don’t want to either. I ain’t about formal stuff.’And he was glad Lucy laughed at that. ‘How ‘bout we cross the rest of the bridge and go downtown? Downtown Corneria doesn’t sleep and we’re dressed up anyway.’

Lucy accepts, brushing the tears away from her smudged make up and taking his offered hand. Shoes back on, wristlet in hand, they crossed the bridge, leaving behind an episode in their lives and starting a new one.

Who knows.

Might lead to something so much better.

[classpect-crew]

Hello! I was scrolling through your blog and really liked the analyses(like, really they're all so detailed, good job) anyway, I'm confused about how witches would interact with their aspect. I know they manipulate it, but excluding all the flashy powers, how would(for example) a witch of time or a witch of rage act before they play Sburb? I know you have a lot of asks on your plate so I'm sorry this is kind of long. Thanks in advance!

Hey there! Don’t worry about ask length, I actually really enjoy having this much to work with! Often, the more detail I have at the start, the easier it is for me to delve into precisely what you’d like to explore.

Now, it’s easy for us to pinpoint exactly how Witches tend to use their powers in the context of the game itself, but when it comes to the more subtle hints about someone’s Class (especially before the game) we have to look more generally at the Witches we’ve seen so far: namely, Jade and Feferi, as Damara is admittedly a bit hard to pin down. From there, we can infer some common traits among them, and see what fits into the archetype.

Although Class names don’t always completely align with our concepts of their origins, there are still some good hints: Heirs “inherit” their Aspect and are protected by it, Knights use their Aspect as a weapon and often have some form of barrier or “shield” they construct for themselves, and Witches generally go against the grain of what society dictates for them. This is quite obvious in Feferi’s case, as her preferred method of “culling” is far different than what we see in Alternia’s current setup. As we explore Beforan society, with Feferi’s counterpart as the Empress instead of Meenah’s, trolls in lower blood castes are coddled and treated as pets, or even vanity items, and doubly so for those with mutations, disabilities, etc. while those on Alternia with such traits are often brutally killed, if they even managed to make it out of the brooding caverns due to the harsh nature of the Trials. The key here is that Witches are often unsatisfied with the current state of affairs in their society, and whether or not they’re loud and proud about their deviance, they often stick to their guns and refuse to see societal norms as anything but a weak suggestion.

Witches generally don’t seem to care what others think of their unique perspectives, as they’re usually far too preoccupied with acting on them and living that truth rather than bowing to the unwanted opinions of others. They also tend to be gifted at the beginning of their journeys with large amounts of their Aspect, though not necessarily in ways that directly help or harm them. Feferi was gifted with a potential for the longest lifespan among trolls due to the biology of trolls in the highest echelon of the hemospectrum. She also seemed to possess a great amount of energy, and she lived a life of luxury as an heiress. Both of these qualities are a reflection of the Life Aspect. Meanwhile, Jade is naturally gifted with qualities of Space, the most obvious being the vast amount of space between her island home and the rest of civilization. She has a very natural grasp of physics, even displaying a strange sense of intuition regarding nuclear physics in particular.

With these ideas in mind, let’s talk about one specific Witch you’ve brought to the table: the Witch of Time. (Edit: I was going to go into detail about both the Witch of Time and the Witch of Rage, but upon reflection, this post was becoming far too long, so I’ll have to go into the Witch of Rage some other time.) Naturally, it would be irresponsible of me to mention the Witch of Time without bringing up Damara, but for our purposes here, she’ll take a backseat in this analysis. Very little is actually known about her life and behavior before Meenah’s harassment and abuse led her to drastically change in personality. It’s implied that she was quite unobtrusive, even being described as “meek” by Aranea, but that’s about all we get. This seems to go against our idea of Witches as “rebels,” right? It’s certainly something I’d like to think about more. When I imagine a Witch of Time, I imagine someone who decides that their society’s ideas about fate, death, and the general progression of events is not all it’s cracked up to be.

How a Witch behaves can be largely dependent on the society and conditions in which they’re raised. How different cultures view death, for example, is a very easy thing to compare and contrast. Let’s compare, for example, how deceased family members are revered and their lives celebrated on Dia de los Muertos in many parts of Mexico, to how death is considered upsetting, scary, or even taboo to discuss in heavily European-influenced parts of America. That’s not to say there’s no overlap, of course; plenty of Mexican families grieve the loss of loved ones, and plenty of American families celebrate the lives of theirs. It’s the overall culture surrounding death and the traditions that follow which mark the distinction. Death plays a very big role in the Time Aspect, as many Time players will have to come to terms with Doomed Timelines early on, with some witnessing the deaths of their friends and even, if they fail even once to create a stable time loop, their own deaths. How they feel about life and death as a part of the natural order is ultimately going to determine how they react to these challenges, and the key with Witches is that they’ll almost always challenge their society’s ideas about their Aspect.

With regards to a Witch of Time who grew up understanding that life and death are a cycle that all must go through, not something scary to be feared, they may start out trying to prove such a notion untrue, even in small and subtle ways. They’ll wear their favorite clothing until it’s ripped and stained, squeeze every bit of use out of old appliances even as their cords are fraying, and drive nearly everyone bonkers with their shenanigans. Yet, this translates into incredible power in the context of the game. At the end of it all, this Witch of Time is likely to mess with timelines to a dangerous extent, pushing themselves to the limit to keep their teammates alive as long as possible, which can be incredibly risky when the Alpha Timeline and the various forces of the universe begin demanding their dues—which is something I could go on about at length, but I’ve already written over 1k words so far, and in a double-spaced Word document, I’ve reached 2.5 pages, so I’ll spare you for now. It’s safe to say, though, that if this Witch’s time ever seems to come to an end, they’ll be the first to refuse giving up the ghost, and will do everything they can to stick around.

On the other hand, for a Witch of Time who was raised like I was, seeing death as an incredibly tragic event involving a funeral and sometimes a wake, surrounded by unfamiliar people crying softly and your favorite uncle speaking solemnly to a crowd of mourners, the opposite becomes true in the Witch’s mind. To this Witch of Time, death is a natural thing, and although grief is just as natural, life should be celebrated and cherished. They might take a more relaxed approach to life, knowing that an ultimate end must come, therefore each moment should mean something. This kind of Witch certainly won’t always be calm and collected, just as our other Witch of Time won’t always be frazzled and micromanaging, but there are certainly tendencies. A Witch of Time who’s comfortable with the ebb and flow of life and death will be less put-off by the idea of moving on when it’s time, and they’ll be less likely to keep things around just for the sake of not letting go. This may certainly sound like a healthier mindset, but the key here is moderation, because a Witch like this who indulges too much in the worldview they’ve crafted will tend to impress that view upon others, who may not be of the same mind, and nothing is worse than someone telling a grieving friend to “move on” before they’re ready. Still, they may be the most comfortable with the concept of God Tiers and the sacrifice required to get to that point, which is handy for any team looking to amass power and skill.

I hope this gives you a good taste of how Witches operate! Unfortunately I only had time to go into the Witch of Time tonight, but please feel free to send me another ask if you’d like, and I’ll happily go into the pre-Sburb traits of a Witch of Rage.

[neetu-uplifts]

Learning from Death

July hit my family like a storm. We experienced some highs and some major lows. We lost my Aunt in early July. She had been sick for a while, in and out of the hospital, but we were hopeful that she would recover. God however had other plans. Shortly after, my 105-year old Grandmother broke her pelvic bone and was hospitalized. Emotions were high as everyone prayed for her recovery - she is such a fighter (and thankfully returned home just yesterday). A few weeks later, we came together in strength and good spirits to celebrate a close family wedding. The wedding was the uplift our family needed but it didn’t last long. 10 days after the wedding, we lost my cousin. His death was completely unexpected and it shook us all to the core. He was young and had so much life to live. He was such a jolly, loving, hard working, honest and joy-filled member of our family. He had such a pure heart. It’s still so hard to believe that he’s actually gone. Nobody saw it coming. Hours before he left us, he was visiting with family members and chatting with neighbours - just being his lively, welcoming self. We are in a state of shock and dismay. His death came so suddenly, like waking up to an earthquake. It feels as though we are living in a mental blur, still trying to piece together what happened. 

Throughout this emotionally difficult time, I’ve been reflecting on life and death, perhaps as part of my own personal grieving process. I keep asking myself what I can learn from the tragic losses my family has recently faced. The thing is that death is guaranteed to become a reality for every single one of us. No one is protected from death - neither young nor old. We are powerless against it. Yet, we tend to forget this truth, as we get caught up in the many “distractions” of life, spending our living days without that ticking clock in mind. I’m not saying we should live every waking moment in constant fear and anticipation of death. It’s not about fear of death but rather, acceptance. If we deeply accept and internalize that our time will come and we have no control over when that day will be, perhaps that will ignite and awaken us to use the time we’ve been given towards the absolute best possibilities. As I reflect on the many thoughts and emotions running through me over the past several weeks, I think about the raw learnings that I have. I hope you too will sincerely contemplate what these learnings mean for you and how you’re approaching your life. No one has it all figured out. We are all works in progress, taking it one day at a time. But the more we keep this stuff top of mind, the better our chances are of living life fully, without regrets. 

We all have an expiry date

Just like a carton of milk, we all have an expiry date. Life is so short and temporary - this means 2 things:

1) Stop sweating the small stuff. Let things go. Don’t find reasons to complain about things that in the grand scheme don’t matter. Adopt a big picture mindset. When you find yourself getting upset about someone or something, try to pause, zoom out and ask yourself if this issue that is bothering you right now will even matter in a year, a month or a week from now. Chances are it won’t. Awareness of the ego mind (the thing that’s constantly on and causing all that noise in your head) and disidentifying from it will help with this. How? Because the things we stress about always stem from a place of ego. Ego being anything that isn’t your true self (you are an infinite soul - not a body/human). So anything that comes from a place of identification with or attachment to your body, the story of YOU or any material form = ego. When you find yourself getting upset ask who is upset - you (infinite soul) or that sensitive ego that constantly feels the need to protect/defend itself? Just smile, breathe, pause, surrender, laugh, accept, look for the silver lining - LET IT GO. Easier said than done, I know. But we need to keep working on this. Conquering the mind is the true purpose of life. But why should we care? Because the most tragic way to live (and then die) is lost in the confines of your ego-driven mind (negativity, drama, scarcity mindset, lost in materialism/attachments/superficial things, etc). If you operate from a place of higher consciousness (big picture mindset) with a perspective of oneness, abundance and connectedness with everyone around you, you align with the Universe, experiencing a state of bliss/joy/nirvana. In other words, the most beautiful life possible - peace of mind, inner contentment and joy - is within reach if you want it.

2) How you spend your time is super important. We all have an expiry date so that means our time is very limited and precious. Do you want to spend that time operating from a place of fear or a place of love? Something changes in us from childhood to adulthood. We put up our guards, parts of us harden into clay, we adopt the belief of “other-ness” and we all become extremely “busy”. How do we return to that child-like quality of being open, curious and loving towards one another? Think of a small child smiling at you with the most loving gaze. You used to be that child. What happened? Be kinder than is necessary. See the ONE in everyone. Bring love and positivity into every interaction, whether with a loved one or a complete stranger. How differently would you show up if every person you interact with today was going to die tomorrow? Seems morbid to think this way but it could be a reality, for them or for you. Don’t hold back on telling people you love them. Express it. Replace your ego with honesty. Much better to be overflowing with love and expression than pained with the regret of restrained and bottled emotions. Push thru the uncomfortableness. Think about the people in your life who you cannot imagine living without. Make an intentional decision to prioritize spending more quality time with them, especially your parents, siblings and grandparents. Everyone is too busy, pick up the phone, plan that potluck, take your Mom out for a nice meal or to see a movie, get the friends or fam together for a weekend getaway. Don’t wait for them to call or text you - take the initiative. Love only attracts love. Reach out and start a chain reaction. Just do it. You will not regret it. Again, you do not have infinite time. None of us do. At some point, time will be up.

Cherish your family

Growing up in a big, tight-knit, loving family has been one of my greatest joys in life. When I’m surrounded by my large and lively family, I feel like I’m home. This past month, I realized the power and strength of family to an extent I had not before experienced. The tragic losses we faced have reinforced our greatest blessing - each other. We are incredibly lucky to have a family that is so close and connected. Everyone has come together in such a loving way to give each other strength in these difficult times. Every obligation and priority was dropped to gather on a daily basis to spread love, run errands, make meals, grieve and reminisce, cry and laugh and instill faith and strength. We made sure that my cousin’s house was full of family, love and community - and we will continue to do that. I love that our idea of a low-key family dinner is 70 people (no joke) showing up to make a meal and eat together. My heart is so full just thinking about how much I love my family and how they have given me so many reasons to love deeper and to feel deeply loved throughout the past month. Perhaps that’s also why the loss of my Aunt and cousin has been so difficult for us because family truly is everything for us. Family is precious and you realize just how precious when you lose a family member. And family doesn’t have to be based on blood lines. Family is anyone who feels like home for you. Look out for one another. If you know someone is struggling, check in on them and remind them they are not alone. Hug and kiss your loved ones. Tell them you love them.  Even if that’s not something you grew up doing, start doing it. Even if it’s awkward or “corny” or not “macho” just do it. No harm was ever created through more love and affection.

Remember who you really are

Beyond the flesh, the body, the hair and the story of you, exists a content, infinite and powerful energy - your soul. That is who you are. We forget this once we adopt a body and personality, among other attachments and identifications. This is a core spiritual belief of mine but witnessing the lifeless body of my cousin made it all come home for me. As I stared through heavy tears at his body, and touched his ice cold forehead, I realized it looked like him but the thing that made him HIM, the thing that gave him life, and enabled him to see, talk, hear, touch, walk, love and laugh - that thing was gone - it had left the body. That “thing” is the soul - the infinite, energetic life force that “turns on the lights” inside our flesh and bone-filled bodies. The love and attachment we have with a loved one’s personality and character and all their quirks and “isms” are all powered by the soul, not the body. It’s interesting how once someone dies, everyone begins to refer to them as “the body” rather than by name. Because the name/personality/identity is gone. The body dies but the soul never dies. And yet, ironically, while we’re alive, we’re so attached to and identified and obsessed with the body - both ours and others. Looking at a dead body makes you realize how misguided we are. It’s the soul we should be connecting with. That’s the truth of who we are, not the body. So, when someone dies, where does the soul go? It just flows from one body/form (vehicle) to another or becomes liberated in the omnipresent source of all life. Knowing this gives me some internal peace. May my Aunt and my cousin’s souls rest in love, light and peace.

Respect and take care of your body. Enjoy it. It’s the only one you have for the duration of your human journey. But don’t just get lost in the toning and adornment of the body. Go deeper. Look inside yourself and connect with that energy that allows you to actually be alive, literally makes you alive. I strongly recommend reading A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose by Eckhart Tolle and Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life by Wayne Dyer. These books have helped me connect more deeply with my soul. And it’s a commitment to stay connected because the world has many outward-driven distractions. Staying aware of the truth of ourselves will help us build a stronger and more loving relationship with ourselves and with others. And perhaps most importantly, it will give us a broader perspective on life and death, enabling us to develop acceptance (rather than fear) of our inevitable (unknown) expiry date.

In sum…..

Love deeper

Be kinder than is necessary

Live more fully - embrace adventure and spontaneity 

Stop taking everything so seriously - stop taking yourself so seriously 

Tell them you love them - push thru the hesitation

Intentionally make more time for family and friends 

Open your heart to seeing the best in others - drop the judgment

See the ONE in everyone

Work hard with passion, enthusiasm and gratitude 

Know your truth, connect with your soul - it will set you free

<3

Knee2

[nurfhurdur]

Life’s Highway Ch. 53 - Heartbreak

AN: I was going to link it but figure I’ll post the whole thing, why not. This one is rough….on me anyway. 

Request on AO3, Lightning dealing with the loss of Doc. Part 1 of ?

Also! Everything I’ve ever written is humanized.

He’d never dealt with death before, it was something he had just never thought of, surprising when his career revolved around driving a vehicle at incredibly high and dangerous speeds. So because he’d never dealt with death and had never given the topic much thought, he’d therefor never given the causes of death much thought either.

Of course it wasn’t like he didn’t know it happened. No one lived forever and to think otherwise was both naive and idiotic, but the closest it had ever reached him had been headlines in the tabloids. Other celebrities. So and so passed at 81 due to complications of surgery, car accidents, plane accidents, illness, he understood that, but somehow when he was forced to face it for the first time he just couldn’t get a grasp on it, or when he thought he did he’d suddenly be left juggling the notion awkwardly until he was mentally and emotionally exhausted.

Why did his first experience with loss have to be Doc.

He supposed he should be thankful that it wasn’t so sudden. Well it had been sudden, but not blink of an eye sudden. He should be thankful it wasn’t that drunk driver that jumped the curb in front of the hotel down in Concord last fall, who’d hit two people before careening in to a street light only ten feet from where they’d been standing in an attempt to get some air after a long day of press conferences and signing autographs. Lightning had barely realized what was happening when he felt a rough hand yank him backwards, heard tires squealing, people screaming, and in .001 seconds witnessed Doc shift from crew chief to medical professional. He remembered standing awkwardly near one of the pedestrians, holding the phone in a shaky hand and speaking to a 911 dispatcher as he parroted whatever Doc told him. He’d had no idea what half of it meant but it had helped the responders who arrived on scene.

In that moment he’d actually forgotten Doc was ill.

He’d forgotten it rather frequently in the course of those seventeen months.

Had it really only been seventeen months?

Lightning would get so caught up in their usual routine that for days or weeks at a time he would forget there was anything wrong. Or maybe he’d been forcing himself to forget, because there were times when that knowledge would crash through the wall he’d worked so hard to put in place. With blinding force, that fear and anticipation of the worst would jump that barrier and slam in to those weak defenses, scrape across his senses like metal on pavement, send chills down his spine and leave deep grooves and gouges, raw and open and bleeding. It had and still left him with an unexplainable sense of detachment from the rest of the world. How could they keep going when they all knew nothing was ever going to be the same. How do you live day to day knowing that the hands on the clock were slowing down. How could you just wait for them to stop.

In those days when he could forget, though, those blissfully ignorant afternoons at the Butte, he would forget the large brown envelope he’d found on the desk and took the liberty to open. It had looked official enough to pertain to the upcoming season, and everything sent to Doc was always addressed Jesse A. Hudson M.D.

Except it had nothing to do with Piston Cup.

The forms he’d glanced at before shoving them back in to the folder had been filled with terms he didn’t understand, didn’t want to understand, but he’d spent enough time hanging around in the clinic in the off seasons to recognize some of it. He could only sit around so long before he’d pull those text books off the shelves in boredom. One of his favorite pass times had been flipping to random pages, finding the most ridiculous and bizarre medical facts and try to stump Doc, which of course never worked. In doing so, it was hard not to pick up a few things here or there…

He’d stomped through to the garage, intent on throwing a tantrum that would put his rookie year to shame but when he finally did find his mentor, his crew chief, his father, he’d only thrown the envelope on the old desk and glared at him with tear filled eyes.

Doc, for his part, had only regarded the offending parcel in silence from where he stood at the work bench.

“You weren’t going to tell me, were you? You weren’t going to tell anyone.”

Doc had allowed him to rant and rave and vent his frustration over being kept in the dark and Lightning couldn’t tell in that moment whether he was angry at Doc’s silence or that expression of calm that had refused to break in the face of his verbal assault.

One of his most vivid memories of the whole ordeal was how much his fingers hurt when he’d held on to the back of Doc’s shirt, how hot his face felt and the painful sting in his eyes when the tears had finally spilled over, of how there didn’t seem to be anything wrong, there was no sign of frailness or illness when Doc had finally cut off his tirade with a crushing embrace and a muttered I’m sorry, Kiddo.

It had all started after the race in New York. Wet and cold and raining for the majority of the weekend, minus the race somehow, just about everyone had come down with some form of bronchitis or the flu. With Radiator Springs back on the map, the population had been steadily growing and so had the amount of patients at the clinic. Lightning remembered being wowed with some of the new equipment and despite his own heavy chest cold, he’d asked a thousand questions about the mobile x-ray machine.

“Yeah, it’s great.” Doc hadn’t exactly sounded thrilled, but it might have been because while he was being granted the latest and greatest equipment, he still didn’t have the technicians to use the equipment, at least in the case where he’d needed it for himself.

“You could always walk me through it.” Lightning had provided. “It can’t be that hard.” The very idea that an x-ray machine could send images to a tablet wasn’t exactly science fiction to him. It was more the fact that Doc could use a tablet that was the strange part.

“This thing costs more than you make in a year. Don’t even look at it.”

“Why do we need x-rays?”

“You don’t. You have a cold.”

“Then who needs it?”

“It’s illegal to share that kind of information.”

Through process of elimination, Lightning had figured out it was Sarge, who had actually come down with pneumonia.

Because the clinic had no technicians, Doc had been forced to travel for his own diagnosis, which Lightning had just looked at as a field trip, complaining both ways that if Doc had just allowed him to use the mobile machine they would have saved an entire day’s worth of driving. He’d been a little surprised when Doc mentioned going back a month or so later, he hadn’t been nearly as bad off as some of them but only shrugged when Lightning questioned him and offered a vague explanation that they only wanted a follow up.

It was more than a follow up.

What little Lightning had gathered from the forms he’d mistakenly opened, told him that something far more serious had been discovered through the course of the illness that had swept it’s way through the pit crew.

It wasn’t pneumonia or bronchitis, he hadn’t even been able to bring himself to say it, let alone think it. It was a zodiac sign you looked up in the paper to read your horoscope, it was a constellation, the Latin word for crab. It was harmless when considered in that context…

But in those moments he couldn’t just forget, when he was forced to face the facts in those lonely hours at night, when the shadows crept in and his defenses were at their weakest, he’d sway dangerously between fear and anger. Fear of the unknown, fear of knowing that eventually there’d come a time when he’d look up at that pit box and Doc wouldn’t be there.

He wasn’t real sure on how the grieving process worked and he wasn’t desperate enough to google it yet, but he did know that he’d then get angry, because his crew chief (father) was such a walking contradiction that Lightning sometimes couldn’t even come close to understanding his logic. How could someone finally open up and tell such fond stories of people they’d abandoned for fifty years but then make no attempt to return to old stomping grounds. How could a Medical Doctor completely ignore their own failing health but badger him over his own.

How could Doc refuse treatment.

That’s what had hurt him the most, when his ranting and crying and confusion had finally mellowed and he’d gotten himself under control (days later) he’d asked in a conversational tone when treatments would start, because he’d planned to be part of it all.

“Season starts in two months, there’s no time for that.”

Doc had replied in a tone that suggested the conversation was over and of course Lightning had other thoughts on the matter. He’d put up a fight at times in the past, usually coming across more as banter with a suggestive edge behind it but this had turned in to a full blown argument, two hard headed individuals facing off and colliding head on, the way only extremely egotistical Piston Cup Champions could.

Doc had refused to back down, in the same way he refused to back down on anything. “I’ve seen what that does to a person, Hot Rod, and I am not spending whatever time left putting myself through that.”

That had been the end of it, and Lightning never brought it up again.

Web MD was not his friend, and if Doc ever noticed any of his text books missing at any given time he never said anything.

It was months after that argument that he would forget. When the season started they had fallen in to the usual routine and everything seemed to have returned to normal. Or maybe it was just a new normal. It would only creep up on Lightning at random, in the middle of a conversation with the guys or after getting settled in to whatever hotel room he was put up in. Most often it was in those moments where he was able to spend too much time in his own head.

He’d gotten in to the habit of checking his phone, even more frequently than he used to. He’d started sending text messages more often, even if Doc was only in the room across the hall. He could almost feel the initial irritation seeping through the phone the first half of that year, and he was sure those replies that didn't come back until 4:00 AM and caused him to dig around for his phone blearily were more out of spite than anything else.

But then, after about six months, it had almost become an unspoken agreement between them. Instead of his constant harping and questioning on his crew chief’s well being, he’d simply send a text, it was Lightning’s way of checking in without checking in.

(6:42 AM) Press conference at 8?

Generally meant Ok?

Doc (6:45 AM) 7:30 Don’t be late.

Always meant Doing fine, Kiddo.

It had become the new normal and while he hadn’t been sure how long that normal would last, he’d made sure to make the best of it.

[cuthian]

Starting Over Chapter One

Welcome to the second-to-last installment of this series (probably, honestly, I didn't mean for there to be as many parts as there are already)!

This fic is focused on both Thor and Steve's journeys, and sets the scene for the main fic, the one that follows this one, the one you've all been waiting for :) There are two chapters fully focused on Thor's journey, so should you wish to skip those, check the notes at the top of the chapter! I'll definitely mention them :)

I expect I'll update this once a week (it's fully written) and hopefully will be able to upload the final installment after I've posted the final chapter of this one!

As always, much love and gratitude to my lovely Juulna, who dragged me through all of this, and kicks my ass into gear when it's needed.

Let us know what you think!

Love, Annaelle

Starting Over

Sometimes, the hardest part isn’t letting go, but rather starting over.

—Nicole Sovaugn

Chapter One

RUMORED CELEBRITY COUPLES WE ALL *HOPE* ARE REAL

The celebrity rumor mill is always churning. While it is mostly tittle-tattle, there are certain romance “news” items that, in our heart of hearts, we’re dying to be true. From co-stars with unbelievable chemistry to sure-to-be-legendary duos, here are the pairs we have our fingers crossed for.

10. Nikki Reed & Ian Somerhalder

[...]share a common interest in playing vampires—with Reed’s Rosalie in Twilight to Somerhalder’s Damon in The Vampire Diaries—but also have several common friends. Both are close with Nina Dobrev—Somerhalder’s ex-girlfriend—and Ashley Greene[…]supposed reports of their developing relationship since July, and they have adopted a horse together.

[…]as of yet no official confirmations have been made.

[…]

7. Natasha Romanoff & Steve Rogers

[…] Rogers and Romanoff have been spotted out together on several occasions, ranging from coffee runs—such mundane activity for such extraordinary people—to trips to Coney Island and Avengers Tower[…]The outings have set many tongues wagging, implying a scandalous relationship between the Captain and his Avengers co-worker, despite official, repeated statements that Captain Rogers is still grieving his former life and is not interested in forming romantic attachments.

[…]Captain was also linked to former Army Captain Rebecca Barnes, before she confirmed her own relationship—see No 2 on this list![…]whatever is going on between Captain America and the women in his life, one thing is certain: we would all like to be rescued by this star-spangled man with a plan!

[…]

5. Zac Efron & Leah Michelle

[…]big surprise for everyone! These two have known one another for several years, but have recently been photographed packing on the PDA on a yacht in Italy in July[…]possibly nothing more than a summer fling, but a reliable source told E!online that Efron likes that she is laid-back and he can relate to her. He is, apparently, attracted to her great attitude, and they understand one another.

[…]

2. Rebecca Barnes & Thor of Asgard

This surprise couple accidentally got caught on camera in a picture posted to Tony Stark’s Twitter account on the 4th of July last year[…]emphasis on “accidental”, considering the couple was only barely visible in a corner of the picture that featured almost all of the Avengers.

[…]lo and behold, it clearly showed Rebecca Barnes, seated on a barstool next to who appears to be Captain Rogers, wrapped in an intimate embrace with none other than the Prince of Asgard, looking real cozy together. Gotcha!

[…]picture remained on Tony Stark’s Twitter account without further comment from any of the Avengers for 72 hours before a press conference was held to confirm the relationship between the two, though insistences were made on their relationship remaining casual for now. “They’re having fun, they like each other, but neither of them wants to be in a serious relationship right now.”

Casual seems to be working for the couple though, because all appearances point to them still being together two years after their first press conference!

[…]only confirmed couple on this list!

—M.S. Sura, E! Magazine, « Rumoured Celebrity Couples », July 2013

————————

Washington D.C., United States of America

August 9th, 2015 – 5:19 AM

Steve

Steve liked going for a run in the morning.

When he and Becca had first moved to D.C., he had felt at a loss—he’d never really lived anywhere but in New York, and D.C. had felt like an unknown entity, nothing like the city he’d been born and raised in. It was… It was quieter, in a way, less crowded and less intense than New York had been, and Steve had both hated and loved it with equal measure during their first few weeks there.

Running in the morning had been something Karen the therapist had suggested when he’d originally confessed to feeling antsy and cooped up when there were no missions to be done, and no bad guys to fight.

It’d become a way to blow off steam, to get rid of the horrid feeling of inactivity, and to get to know the city he’d be living in for the foreseeable future. Becca hadn’t really understood—nor had Steve expected her to, considering it would’ve involved leaving her bed before she absolutely had to—and though Thor, bless him, had done his very best to give it a try, he really didn’t understand the appeal of running without chasing something.

Steve, however, loved it.

Running was one of the very few activities where he could let go of all restraint and just go, without having to worry that he was going to hurt someone, or break something irreparably. Running allowed him to test the very limit of the serum without truly having to worry, and it was a feeling so incredibly freeing it made him feel dizzy the first time he’d realized.

He’d learned to appreciate D.C. for its own merits, over time. He loved New York and he would always consider Brooklyn home in a way nowhere else could be, but here… Here he could walk down the street without getting pulled aside for selfies and autographs constantly. He could run for hours without paparazzi not-so-subtly trying to sneak pictures of him.

He could visit Peggy, who had—very reluctantly—taken up residence in a care home close to his and Becca’s house, after a nasty fall that broke the femur bone in her left leg in two places.

New York was not so very far away either, and when they wanted to visit Tony and the others, the flight there usually didn’t take them very long. Steve felt more settled here, and much less anchored in the past, than he had in New York, although it had taken him a long time to admit it.

Of course, it wasn’t like Steve loved everything about their life in D.C. He’d initially loved the job, and the way it gave him a sense of purpose in his life, but the intensity of some of the Agents put him off, and he decidedly disliked the way everyone had had set expectations of who and what he was supposed to be—both as a leader in the field and as a person.

He loathed the way Fury treated him sometimes, for that matter, like he was some dumb kid who didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. He hated when Fury sent him on missions with people who had their own missions, when he was expected to lead people who had their own agendas and their own timetables.

He especially disliked the agents that Fury had set to tail him at all times—he wasn’t supposed to know they were there, but it seemed they’d all conveniently forgotten he was good friends with the Black Widow and Hawkeye, and that he lived with Becca Barnes, who had the uncanny ability to spot agents, no matter how well they disguised themselves.

He hated them, but, over the course of the past four years of living in the 21st century, two of which he’d spent working with S.H.I.E.L.D., he’d learned to pick his battles. There were bigger things going on in his life than trying to figure out which hapless idiot they’d sent to try to tail him on his run today.

There was, for instance, a new guy—not an agent, Steve thought—running on his preferred route.

Steve didn’t tend to run the same route every day, because he’d get bored and probably run into a tree or something, and he didn’t quite fancy the idea of having to explain to Fury—or worse, Tony—why there were gossip rags with the headline “Captain America Can’t Handle Morning Wood” or something equally ridiculous.

Also, by changing up his route regularly, he was able to figure out how long it took S.H.I.E.L.D. to figure out where he was. The longest it had ever taken them was fifteen minutes, and Steve was pretty sure they’d only figured him out because he’d stopped to take a phone call from Becca.

This route, though, starting at the World War II memorial, crossing Inlet Bridge and going past the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, was one of Steve’s favorites to run. It took him past his favorite sites in the city, and ended whenever he ran past the cute little bakery a few blocks from the Holocaust Memorial Museum with the best croissants he’d had on this side of the Atlantic. There weren’t usually a lot of people around at this time of morning, because Steve could admit that he was slightly overzealous when it came to running in the morning—as in leaving before the sun was up, and not coming back until at least two hours later—and it was easy to notice when there was a new fellow maniac who liked to exercise before dawn.

Steve let his eyes trail over said new maniac’s back appreciatively.

He definitely looked good.

He felt a pang of guilt—much less debilitating than the stifling sense of dread and guilt and horror it had once been—and shook his head, pushing himself to run a little faster, to pass this new, cute, unknown entity and leave him behind, because for all that Steve was doing pretty well, he didn’t think he was ready to acknowledge when he actively thought someone was cute.

It was different than when he went on dates because Natasha set him up. Those were nearly always women, and much as Steve appreciated Nat’s effort, they were never into him for him.

That, in itself, was enough of a turn off.

The fact that they were absolutely never his type was just an easy excuse to give Nat when there were, inevitably, no second dates. This, though, he thought as he caught up to Cute Fellow Maniac… this felt different.

“On your left,” he bit out as he ran past New Cute Fellow Maniac, barely allowing himself a glance to look at the other guy, refusing to see, because that would mean he actively liked someone who wasn’t Bucky, and he wasn’t sure he could do that.

He’d talked about that with Karen-the-therapist at length too.

After he’d seen Thor make an effort to let go of his promise to only ever love Loki, to give his relationship with Becca an honest chance, he’d wondered, because he’d been convinced that Thor was the only person Steve had ever met that understood.

He’d understood why Steve just… couldn’t.

Why the very thought of being in love with someone other than Bucky made him feel sick to his stomach, like he’d be betraying everything he had shared with Bucky, like he’d be making a mockery of Bucky’s memory if he did allow himself to move on. Going on dates with women had been much easier than this, because… well, they were women.

For all that Steve was hopeless when it came to flirting with them—or even just talking to them—they didn’t run much of a risk of reminding him of Bucky. It wasn’t so very hard to not give them a chance.

He knew it was poor manners, to give a lady hope where there was none, but… it got his friends off his back, and it was easy to let it all wash over him.

Men, though…

He knew Bucky would hate that Steve felt that way, and that he might even be insulted to learn Steve hadn’t tried to fuck his way through the 21st century in his name yet, because Bucky had been nothing if not a realist (and also a horny bastard), and whereas Steve had been—still was—optimistic enough to believe he could spend his entire life loving just the one person, Bucky had… Bucky had said things that made Steve think—now, in hindsight—that he’d never really believed he’d make it out of the war.

Maybe he’d always known Steve would, eventually, have to move on.

Steve sighed and slowed down, eyeing the split in the path that came up ahead of him contemplatively. The left branch would loop him back to roughly where he’d seen Cute New Maniac, and might give him a second chance.

The other…

“Come on, Rogers,” he told himself firmly. “Make an effort.”

He took the left path.

————————

Washington D.C., United States of America

6.03 AM

Steve

Alright, so maybe he hadn’t stopped to talk to Cute New Maniac right away.

He watched, slightly amused, as the other man limped his way to a patch of grass and collapsed back against a tree, wheezing a little. Steve felt a little bad—just a little—but then, he hadn’t made the other man try to race him.

Honestly, after the third time Steve had lapped him, Cute New Maniac should really have realized that he wouldn’t actually be able to keep up with Steve even if he did try.

Which he did.

It hadn’t really gone his way.

“You need a medic?” he blurted before he could think about it, moving towards where the other man sat with a grin that was probably just the right side of smug. Steve felt a little gratified when the other man laughed, shaking his head a little before he replied.

“I need a new set of lungs.” He laughed and pushed himself up a little, glancing towards Steve with a smirk. “You just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

Steve grinned a little.

It wasn’t like he could come right out and say he looped around four times with the express purpose of seeing Cute New Maniac again, so he shrugged, putting his hands on his hips in a way he knew accentuated the contrast between his broad shoulders and narrow hips. “Guess I got a late start,” he quipped cheekily.

“Really?” Cute Maniac laughed. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You should—you should take another lap.” Steve couldn’t stop grinning, cheeks burning and heart pumping fast with exhilaration, even as the cute guy looked away for a second, before he looked back and rolled his eyes.

“Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”

Steve outright laughed at that, shaking his head a little before he gestured to the dog tags that had slipped from underneath the guy’s sweater. “What unit were you in?”

He saw the minute stiffening of Cute Maniac’s posture before he relaxed again, and felt momentarily bad for asking, but before he could take it back, Cute Maniac replied, “58th Pararescue. But now I’m working down at the V.A.” Before Steve could do more than nod, Cute Maniac held out his hand, wiggling his fingers insistently until Steve grasped it in his and pulled him to his feet.

“Sam Wilson,” Cute Maniac—Sam, a voice in Steve’s head that sounded suspiciously like Bucky insisted—offered, smiling when Steve floundered a little.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve finally said, grinning shyly. This was usually the point where people either freaked out and started treating him like… well, like Captain America. Steve hadn’t hoped someone wouldn’t this badly in quite a while.

“I kinda put that together,” Sam grinned, fingers lingering on Steve’s for a second longer than strictly appropriate, and Steve’s stomach swooped. “Must’ve freaked you out,” Sam continued, and Steve’s stomach sank, because he knew what those next words were going to be before Sam even said them out loud. “Coming home after the whole defrosting thing. “

Steve heaved a sigh and shrugged. “Took some getting used to.”

He swallowed thickly against the disappointment that curdled in his stomach and shot Sam a small, insincere smile. “It’s good to meet you, Sam.” He turned away before Sam could say anything that would make Steve’s stomach ache harder than it already did, becauseof course, the one time he decided to take a chance, the guy turned out like everyone else.

“It’s your bed, right?”

Steve stopped, turning around with no small sense of bewilderment as he looked at Sam. “What’s that?” he said cautiously, eyeing the other man nervously. He wasn’t sure if Sam was being dense, or if he was blatantly trying to come onto Steve, but it made him feel off-balance, and Steve hated feeling off-balance.

“Your bed,” Sam repeated, raising both eyebrows. “It’s too soft. When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground, use rocks as pillows.” Steve turned towards Sam fully, now intrigued and a little relieved, hoping he might’ve misjudged. “Now I’m home,” Sam continued, “lying in my bed, and it’s like…”

He shook his head, apparently at a loss for words.

“Like lying on a marshmallow,” Steve finally finished for him. “Feels like I’m gonna sink right through to the floor.”

Sam smiled a little and nodded.

It was a cute smile too, damn him.

“How long?” he asked, eyeing Sam carefully. He figured he could get away with asking something similar to Sam’s earlier question, and it wasn’t that he doubted that the other man had served, but…

It just felt different knowing.

“Two tours,” Sam answered curtly, although he didn’t appear all that put out by the question.

Steve swallowed and nodded tightly. Though Sam hadn’t specified, from what Steve understood, two tours could mean anywhere from a year to eight years total, and Steve couldn’t imagine being out there for that long, even with a break in the middle, without losing his mind. It’d baffled him during the war too, seeing European soldiers of various countries that had been fighting for literal years without stopping, refusing to give up.

He’d both admired them and felt incredibly sorry for them.

“You must miss the way things were,” Sam finally said, cautiously, as though Steve would explode if the past was mentioned. If this had been three years ago, Steve might’ve. He would’ve put on a brave face, but the reminder of the life that had been torn from him would’ve sent him spiraling and heading for the hills to lick his wounds in private, and he was mature enough—now—to know that.

As it stood, Steve had been in intense therapy since his breakdown four years ago, and he’d learned to deal with his grief in far more healthy ways.

“It’s not so bad here,” Steve shrugged. “Food’s so much better. I need to eat a ton, because—” he gestured towards his body sheepishly and blushed when Sam smirked. “Back then, getting enough calories was horrible. We boiled everything, and the stuff that did have what I needed was barely edible at all.” He grinned and added, “Internet’s great too. Super helpful. Becca showed me how to use it back when I first woke up. Definitely read that a lot, trying to catch up.”

Sam nodded, raising an eyebrow. “Becca’s the roommate, right? Your guy’s grandniece or something, right? Freaked out every gossip rag from here to L.A. when you two moved here, to D.C., together. Big scandal.”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “I remember. Ridiculous. Becca’s one of my best friends. Currently dating one of my other best friends.” He wrinkled his nose and shook his head, because much as he loved Thor and Becca, he really didn’t like to think too much about it. He’d walked in on them one time too many to still be casual about it.

“Yeah,” Sam smirked. “I remember seeing that revelation around too.”

Steve winced a little.

Everyone remembered that particular Fourth of July. Tony still felt bad about it.

“So,” Sam said, smiling lightly, “You doing anything fun today?”

Steve saw it for the change of subject that it was and grasped at it eagerly—maybe a little too eagerly. “Hopefully you,” he blurted, blanching when his brain caught up with his mouth, wincing at Sam’s slightly stunned expression. “I mean—that’s not—I wasn’t trying to—”

He gave up on his spluttered explanation when Sam burst into laughter, hiding his face—cheeks burning with an increasingly embarrassed blush—in his hands. He didn’t look up until Sam reached out and put his hand on Steve’s arm, gently pushing it down so Steve would be forced to look at him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam grinned, winking when Steve dared to look directly at him again. “I mean, you should definitely buy me a drink first, but it’s good to know I wasn’t imagining that you were flirting.” He looked momentarily confused and then asked, “I wasn’t, right?”

“No,” Steve admitted breathlessly, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by the idea that he’d actually managed to ask someone out—sort of—and that said someone had actually returned his interest.

What the fuck.

Stuff like this didn’t happen to Steve—he was the hopeless single friend.

Willingly.

Sam smiled—a real, bright smile that made Steve’s stomach do another funky flop—and bit his lower lip. “Well then. You gonna ask for my number, Rogers?”

“Right!” Steve blurted, fumbling to get his phone from his pocket without accidentally tossing it across the damned park. Sam took it from him with an indulgent smile, and Steve was pretty sure his face was stuck somewhere between bewilderment and soppy admiration, and he wasn’t sure…

Well, he wasn’t sure what to do now.

“There,” Sam handed his phone back and raised an eyebrow. “You better call me, Rogers. I ain’t one for getting stood up, even by a superhero.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “I will, definitely, I just—” His phone buzzed in his hand, and he frowned when he recognized Nat’s S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued number. Nat only used that number to call him when they were being called in for a mission.

“Duty calls,” he said ruefully, wiggling his phone at Sam. “I’m sorry. Thanks for the run though.” He grinned and winked, “If that’s what you wanna call running.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Sam exclaimed indignantly, although there was no real heat to his words.

“That’s how it is.”

“O-okay,” Sam chuckled. “You better call me when you get back.”

Steve nodded dumbly, not turning away until he heard the familiar engine roar of Nat’s favorite Corvette—because of course she’d tracked his phone instead of waiting for his reply, damn those spies—grinning sheepishly at Sam’s raised eyebrow. “Can’t run everywhere.”

“No, you can’t,” Sam agreed, smirking when Steve awkwardly tried to fit himself into the small seat—he swore that was at least half of the reason Nat always picked him up in this thing.

“Hey fellas,” Nat grinned, baring all her teeth with a predatory gleam in her eye as she looked at Sam.

“No,” Steve said firmly, before she could do or say anything that would make Sam realize Steve was a goddamned disaster and he should run while he still had the chance. He frowned at her, and when that didn’t have much of a visible effect, he pouted.

Her expression softened, and Steve barely managed to keep from grinning.

Worked like a charm. Every damned time.

“I’ll call you,” he told Sam, offering him a quick smile, before he turned back to Nat, putting thoughts of Sam and the conversation and the potential date in his future out of his mind, focusing entirely on the folder Nat had tossed onto his lap and resolutely ignoring her attempts to pick apart what little she’d seen of his interaction with Sam.  

“What do we have?”

————————

EXCLUSIVE: CAPTAIN AMERICA MOVING IN WITH DEAD BEST FRIEND’S GRAND-NIECE?

Captain America, also known as Steve Rogers, and Rebecca Barnes—granddaughter to Rogers’ late best friend’s little sister—aremoving in together, but they are most definitely not in a relationship, despite an absurd tabloid report.

Gossip Cop can exclusively correct the story and report that it’s completely false.

According to OK!USA, our favorite supersoldier is moving out of the Avengers Tower to follow Barnes to Washington D.C., where they’re “on the hunt for a love pad”. An alleged insider tells the magazine that Thor and Barnes, who were recently accidentally ‘outed’ by Tony Stark, have split up because of the “deep, intense feelings” between the Captain and the youngest Barnes.

“They’re both so attracted to one another,” says a supposed source, who further contends that the other Avengers and the Barnes family “aren’t surprised Cap is following Becca to D.C. and that they’re looking for a home together.”

The outlet’s premise is flat-out ridiculous.

Just last Sunday, Thor joined Barnes and Rogers for dinner at Rebecca Barnes Sr.’s home.

The idea that Rebecca Jr. has dumped him for Captain Rogers is ludicrous. Additionally, the tabloid’s article is based on claims from an anonymous and untraceable “source,” but Gossip Cop reached out to Rogers’ spokesperson, who tells us on the record that it’s untrue. Despite what the magazine’s so-called “insider” claims, a rep qualified to speak on the Captain’s behalf assures us he and Barnes aren’t a couple, and the relocation is funded and requested by S.H.I.E.L.D., where both Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes are employed.

[…]gossip media is constantly trying to create new milestones in the relationship between Captain Rogers and the females in his life, despite their relationship being friendly and professional. […] Last week, we busted another bogus report alleging the Black Widow might be pregnant with Rogers’ baby.

Earlier this week, Gossip Cop also shot down a phony article claiming that the Avengers were split between Barnes and the Black Widow, picking sides in a vicious fight for Rogers’ affection.[…]

This latest article involving the supposed lovers house-hunting together is yet more fiction.

—A. Shuster, Gossip Cop, « Captain America moving to D.C. with Rebecca Barnes?», August 2012

————————

Indian Ocean

11:08 PM (UCT+6.30)

Steve

He listened intently as Rumlow briefed them, eyeing the specs intently. Natasha stood beside him, brow equally furrowed in concentration, while Becca fiddled with her gloves, alternating between looking at Rumlow and the screen. Normally, Steve would try to scold her into paying attention, but by the time he and Nat had gotten to H.Q., Becca had already been debriefed and had several plausible plans ready for Steve to review once he’d been briefed on the jet.

He’d learned to value her insights on cases like these, because there was a reason she had made it to the rank of Captain in the Army at twenty-two, and he knew how hard it was for her to stand still.

“Any demands?” he inquired when Rumlow finished identifying the target and outlining the situation.

There hadn’t been when they’d left D.C., but that had been mere minutes after contact with the Lemurian Star had been lost—two and a half hours ago.

“Billion and a half,” Rumlow nodded curtly, facing Steve directly, preparing for the questions he likely knew were coming. They’d worked together quite a few times over the past few years, and Rumlow had learned to anticipate what info Steve needed to effectively plan a successful mission in minutes.

“Why so steep?”

Demands were all good and well in hostage situations, but no agency deploying simple satellites would be able to afford quite that much money on such short notice.

Rumlow looked surprised, for a moment, before admitting, “Because it’s S.H.I.E.L.D.’s.”

Steve barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes, quietly cursing Nick Fury in the back of his mind, and glanced towards Nat. “So it’s not off-course.” That’d been one of Becca’s theories; an attempt to explain what the ship would be doing this far out of international waters; why they’d been vulnerable to pirates in the first place.

“It’s trespassing,” Becca agreed, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning.

Rumlow looked like he wanted to say something—probably something derogatory that would make Steve want to punch him regardless of his professional competence—but Nat stepped in before he could. “I’m sure they have a good reason,” she offered, smiling winningly at Steve.

Steve did roll his eyes this time. “I’m getting real’ tired of being Fury’s janitor.”

He could’ve been having lunch, at home, right now. He could’ve asked Sam out for breakfast, could’ve tried to figure out if he could try dating without wanting to throw up at the mere thought of it.

Why did Fury always want him to clean up his own damned messes?

He turned back to Rumlow and gestured to go on. “How many pirates?”

“Twenty-five,” Rumlow replied immediately, pulling up several profiles of well-known international fugitives. “Top mercs, led by this guy.” He pulled up and enlarged a picture of a built man with a buzz cut and a dead-eyed expression Steve had seen in too many men in the service before.

“Georges Batroc,” Rumlow continued, “Ex-DGSE, Action Division. He’s at the top of Interpol’s Red Notice. Before the French demobilized him, he had thirty-six kill missions.” He looked Steve dead in the eye and frowned. “He’s got a rep for maximum casualties. It’s why they wanted to get rid of him in the first place.”

Steve nodded curtly. He wasn’t sure what a man like that would want with a S.H.I.E.L.D. vessel, but he was sure it couldn’t be anything good. “Hostages?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rumlow faltered, and Steve frowned, because that couldn’t be a surprise question—they’d been sent specifically to rescue said hostages. “Uh...” Rumlow stuttered. “Mostly techs. One officer.” He nodded towards Steve. “Jasper Sitwell. They’re in the galley.”

Steve knew of Sitwell.

He wasn’t terribly high up the chain of command, and certainly didn’t have security clearance as high as Steve and Natasha, but he wasn’t just another grunt worker either. From what Steve knew, he was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s top mission handlers.

He dealt with junior S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that went on lesser undercover missions—had dealt with Becca’s undercover mission too, until Nat had unceremoniously usurped him. Steve had no clue what he’d be doing on a satellite launch platform.

“What the hell is Sitwell doing on a launch ship?” he mused, more to himself than to either Nat or Becca, before he shook his head and pushed the issue from his mind. Honestly, it didn’t matter what Sitwell was doing on the ship, it just mattered that Steve needed to get him and the techs off of it.

Safely.

“Alright,” he said briskly, glancing to his core team briefly. “I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you kill the engines and wait for instruction. Rumlow, you sweep the aft and find the hostages, direct S.T.R.I.K.E. as you need them. Just get them to the life-pods, and get them out.” He glanced towards Becca and grinned. “Barnes, help Rumlow get into the galley and then cover my six.”

Becca grinned back and cheekily saluted him. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Let’s go.”

He followed Becca and Nat to the hold, taking the communicator Nat held out with a grin. “Secure channel seven,” he said into the communicator when he’d attached it to his wrist.

“Seven secure,” Nat replied, sidling up beside him with a smirk that predicted little good things for him. Usually conversations that started with Nat smirking at him like that ended with dreadfully boring dates with lovely dark-haired women that bore suspicious resemblance to both Bucky and Peggy.

“So,” Nat drawled. “Who was that positively gorgeous specimen you were talking to when I picked you up?” She raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Were you flirting, Steve?”

Becca popped up from behind one of the S.T.R.I.K.E. agents, her expression bordering on gleeful, and Steve barely repressed the urge to groan. He’d hoped to keep Sam to himself a little longer, at least until he had decided how he felt about the whole thing.

He should’ve known he would never be able to keep it under wraps with these two in his life.

That not mean that he wasn’t going to try, though.

“I’m not talking about this now,” he said firmly, shooting a glare at Becca when she had the gall to pout at him. Thankfully, the pilot’s voice interrupted the two women before they could pester him more, warning him of the drop zone coming up.

He ran his hand through his hair one more time before he pulled the helmet on, moving towards the loading bay as he did.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Becca piped on from behind him, snatching him by one of the straps on his suit and pulling him back with surprising ease—to everyone but Steve, who’d hoped she would let him get away with it this time. “Put on a fucking parachute, Rogers,” she bit out, shoving aforementioned parachute in his hands.

“Come on, Becs,” he wheedled. “I need to get in stealthily. The ‘chute ain’t covert. It’ll slow me down.”

Becca didn’t seem particularly impressed by his reasoning. “I’m not letting you jump out of a goddamn plane without a parachute, you moron.”

“You let Thor do it all the time,” Steve pointed out, smiling winningly, sneakily pushing the parachute into a hapless S.T.R.I.K.E. agent’s hands, stepping in front of the man to make sure Becca wouldn’t be able to see what he was doing.

Becca threw her hands up in exasperation and shoved at his shoulder, even as Steve moved back to the loading bay. “Thor can fly, Steve, he doesn’t need a parachute.”

Steve grinned at her over his shoulder, and winked at her. “Neither do I.”

He jumped.

————————

Lemurian Star, Indian Ocean

11:14 PM (UCT+6.30)

Steve

“Hostages en route to extraction,” Rumlow’s voice alerted Steve. “Barnes is on her way to you. Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap. Hostiles are still in play.”

He didn’t have eyes on Batroc anymore, and the entire ship had fallen suspiciously silent following his attempt to smash Batroc’s skull in with his shield. Of course, they did have standing orders to subdue the man, not kill him, but Steve had seen an opportunity and he’d taken it.

He’d rather be scolded for taking out a terrorist than risk the man getting out again.

Steve cursed under his breath before he replied, voice hushed, “Affirmative. Natasha, Batroc’s on the move. Circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages.” There was no reply, and worry coiled in the pit of his stomach. He stopped, distracted, and lifted his arm to speak directly into the comm unit.

“Natasha?”

He didn’t see the attack coming.

He didn’t have time to do anything other than parry the volley of blows that came at him, faster and harder than anyone he’d fought in recent history. He was bowled over by the sheer viciousness of the attack, and before he knew it, his attacker had knocked him on his back, giving him no time to recover.

All Steve could see when he straightened up was the boot flying right at him, and he barely managed to move just enough so said boot landed on the floor instead of on parts of Steve’s anatomy he’d really rather keep intact—especially with the possibility of a date in the near future still in the back of his mind.

Batroc—because of course it was Batroc, Steve hadn’t expected anyone else—froze for a heartbeat, as did Steve. The stillness of the moment was over as soon as it had begun, and Steve didn’t spare much thought to technique when Batroc attacked again in a violent flurry of movement, punching and kicking so fast Steve couldn’t do anything but block, at first.

It only took a few moments before he spotted a pattern in Batroc’s attacks though, and then, instead of concerning, the fight became fun.

Batroc was a good fighter, and while he was certainly no match for Steve, he was far more of a challenge than anyone but Thor had been able to provide since he’d gotten the serum. Even Schmidt, for all his bluster of being the perfect man, had had shockingly little fighting technique and had mostly relied on brute strength alone.

Batroc, on the other hand… Batroc fought like it was an art, and Steve loved it.

Steve did not, however, have time to relish in the fight. Batroc was getting cocky, likely spurred on by Steve’s insistence of blocking and not punching—because he did have orders to bring the man in alive, and if Steve would punch him with full strength, he’d probably punch right through his skull.

It was too easy, really, to shove the man back with the shield, tossing him several feet.

It didn’t slow Batroc down though, and Steve was grudgingly impressed. The man had to be highly trained to be able to shake off a hit like that, and even when he attacked again, and Steve punched back, with his fists and the shield, Batroc got back up.

Steve was a little impressed.

“Je croyais tu étais plus qu’un bouclier,” Batroc sneered when he’d gotten back on his feet, and that… the implication grated, even though Steve knew, he knew Batroc was goading him, he knew Batroc knew he couldn’t beat Steve… But it stung nonetheless.

Before he knew what he was doing, he holstered his shield, keeping his eyes on Batroc as he undid the chin-strap on his helmet. “On va voir,” he said evenly, and he was itching for this fight, itching for a reason to beat this guy into the ground, regardless of how well he fought—

He and Batroc both flinched and spun around when a loud gunshot rang out across the deck, and before either of them could react further, Becca appeared, shooting Batroc twice, without hesitation, with the stun gun they had designed specifically to take hostiles in alive.

The man dropped like a sack of flour, and Steve was left staring between Becca—who looked positively furious—and the third man there, laying face-down in a pool of his own blood, a gun lying slightly beyond his outstretched fingertips.

“On va voir?” Becca hissed, stepping over Batroc’s prone body with an expression so infuriated Steve was almost afraid she’d set him on fire with just that look. He’d seen her angry before, but… shit, he’d messed up. “On ne vois rien! What the actual fuck, Rogers?!”

“Okay,” he said slowly, raising his hands in surrender, because Becca was still holding her stun gun, and she was not lowering it. “In my defense…”

“In your defense?” Becca shouted, stomping forward, shoving him in the shoulder hard. “There was no in your defense! You put away your main defensive weapon! You took off your helmet on an active mission with hostiles still in play! Jesus Christ, Steve, you knowbetter!”

Steve opened his mouth, but Becca waved her gun around angrily and he snapped it shut again, because he might be a supersoldier and if she shot him, he’d survive, but it’d still hurt like hell, and he wouldn’t put it past her to shoot him just to teach him a lesson about how close to death his body could take him.

“He had a gun on you,” she hissed. “He was waiting to take the shot, damn it! He would’ve blown your fucking brains out, Steve, and it’s not like you have any to spare!”

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed indignantly, glaring at her. “That’s not fair.”

“Try that again when you didn’t put away your main weapon in front of a hostile!” Becca shouted, poking her finger so close to his face, Steve was worried she’d boop him on the nose and make him laugh, because he knew laughing at her now would definitely make her shoot him.

“Okay, look,” Steve tried, backing away a little, because he was no fool, and staying within arm’s reach of an angry Barnes was never a good idea. “My entire body is basically a weapon. I mean—”

“Well, this is awkward,” Natasha interrupted.

Becca and Steve spun around to find her sitting cross-legged on Batroc’s back, securing his wrists with heavy handcuffs that could probably hold even Steve. Steve’s cheeks flamed, because Natasha was smirking in a way that meant she had heard all of the conversation that Steve would have rather kept between him and Becca.

Of course, he’d rather have not had the conversation at all, but he wasn’t that lucky.

“Where were you?” he bit out angrily, desperately grasping at the only thing he could to change the subject, glaring at Nat when she just raised her eyebrow. “Rumlow needed you with the hostages.”

“He’s fine,” she waved a hand dismissively. “I…” she paused and her eyes darted between him and Becca, who was still steely-eyed and angry, but at least not shouting anymore. “Fury gave me a secondary mission,” she admitted, holding up a hand to stave off the angry tirade that was already itching to burst from Steve’s lips. “I can’t talk about it here. Later, Steven.”

“Fine,” Steve bit out. “Fine.” He pointed to Natasha menacingly. “But you’re coming back to our place later to explain.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

————————

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances: 

(1) 

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

[thekillerqueen1945-blog]

I AM YOUR FUTURE

CHAPTER 3 

  Olmec, Mayans, Inks and Aztecs

Upon finishing my story about Akkadian princess, Life spoke:

 “I honestly liked the story. You really are the great storyteller."

“Oh, rejoice, everybody, celebrate. Life finally liked something and did not guide it to its end. Rejoice, rejoice. Ha ha ha ha" shout Infinity on this strange event that happened

"Maybe I could narrate extra story since you liked my latest one so much" I proposed

"Do not shift your fortune, since Life can shift easily from contented and happy to its natural offensive and demanding self" warned me Death with its slow, calculated voice

 "Hey! I am not the bad one, remember. You are the greatest loss someone can survive; you are the merciless murderer that leaves the scars on hearth and soul that shall never be mend. You are a big player in this endless game, but I am greater than you. " Life quarrelled on Death

Death looked at Life emotionlessly for few moments and spoke with the voice that shakes the soul and freezes you straight to the core of your being.

 "Life. Do you really believe that all this is a game? Maybe at one point, you are right. But if you think that you can play it better than me, think again. You are small as a drop in the ocean, fast as rage and you never think twice. You rush to me, like a river to the sea. Every creature large or small believes it will gain a success since they have you on their team. They are wrong, so wrong. I delivered you to them, as an advantage in the game, for I am so sure of my victory. Don't bother yourself. just relax, and I'll take all that life can offer with no exception."

 Death was so close to Life that they were almost touching. Life was shaking in the nervousness of seeing a mere fraction of Deaths might. I flinched in fear. Even Time and Infinity had flashes of panic in their eyes. Although quiet and hidden in the shadows, Death remains compelling and we became the witness of that timeless truth.

 Death talk to me without exerting its eyes of the Life

" If you don't mind, can you start the story about Mayans, Inks, Aztecs and Olmec’s Culture."

“ O-OK. Ahem, ahem. The O-Olmec, Mayan, Incan, and Aztec c-civilisations are some of the most significant ancient cultures in h-history, and yet…I-I can- “

"CONTINUE!" shout Death at me, this time with more energy.

 I grimaced and continued

“The Olmec are generally overlooked e-entirely." I paused needed a deep breath and started over

“To make long story brief, Maya’s arrived first and established the culture in modern-day Mexico. Later the Olmec reached the region, who likewise settled in Mexico. They didn't create any larger cities, but they were widespread and flourishing culture. People both culture were followed by the Inca in modern-day Peru, and eventually the Aztecs, also in modern-day Mexico on the planet Erath."

       "Now allow me, to proceed. About 2,800 years ago, people identified as Maya civilisation lived in agriculture settlements on the Yucatan Peninsula and the mountains of something presently recognised as the Americas. From around A.D. 250 to A.D. 900, people organised city-states in Central America that involved majestic pyramid temples and public areas emphasising heavy marble pillars that described their vibrant past. I am right about this, or not" spoke Death still staring at Life

 “You are," I answered, with no intention to discuss.  

" Continue" Death blasted me a gaze appreciation

“No one remembers the specific origins of Olmec people. This is because the Olmec culture is one of Mexico's earliest cultures. It existed from 1400 BC to 400 BC. The Olmec controlled an empire that runs parallel with the Gulf of Mexico. The area as mentioned above is presently described as Veracruz. The Olmec survived by providing harvests and hunting wild animals for a portion of food. However, because of their closeness to the ocean, people also ate an abundance of the seafood. They planted the corn and cacao, as basic and sacred plants. Cacao was a highly utilised trade article. Olmec soils were incredibly fertile and rich, and people produced an abundance of native fruits and vegetables.”

 “They never described or named themselves, but the Aztecs called this region where the Olmec lived "Olman," said Life arrogantly, gradually gaining the courage.

" So who decided to name them Olman people?" questioned Death

“In the Aztec language of Nahunta, the word Olmec means "land of glue." That was because gum tree was overflowing the area. The intruders that arrived in the 15th century ingested everything they could to wipe-out all data of the existence of the Olmec culture. Some scientists consider that the Olmec didn't even exist as the separate civilisation, but I can guarantee that they are all wrong. Olmec civilisation was a remarkable early culture that did not see the purpose in creating the large empire that will ultimately fall into the scraps, because of death, because of you.” Life talked confidently scowling back at Death

 “They were one and single civilisation in human history that understood the mortality of man-maid systems and instruments as well as the mortality of the human reality itself. Those people understand that everything delivered to existence is condemned to depart, to perish. “said Death quietly without diverting dazzle from Life.

 The Inca established settling in the Valley of Cuzco in the Andes Mountains of central Peru nearby year 1200. Between 1440 and 1500, they extended their empire until it reached nearly 2,500 – “I was obstructed repeatedly

"Just imagine us one of the tales from the chronicle of the time. Use Olmec civilisation; they are attractive." Said Death and walked away from the Life

"But I did not finish explaining you about Inks and Aztecs." I proclaim

"We are the cause all even existed, we remember facts concerning them, but unlike you, we do not understand who they were actually “Death spoke deliberately and seriously slow

"All right" I choose not to fight with this powerful being

 To understand the greatness of an ancient civilisation, I will narrate a story of how did Olmec culture developed their math or better to say where they discovered math.

 Olmec people never desired to record the day for another generation to perceive it. It was the day when the kingdom was built. That was a day when they discovered mathematics.

   That day people noticed seeds of their fall. The day when one of the thrusts of the universe revealed itself.

It started as a sunny, clear day.  Despite beautiful day and peace, everybody felt something in the ambience. Something harmful. It was as their own bones talked and sang, sang a sad

melody, that could not be decoded. Yet! It was a hunch, premonition, feeling of the storm in the air before it actually comes.

Hours past, people worked within their daily routines, everyone shrugged the feeling and proceeded with the liveliness. Then it happened! Something came, at the midday, from the sky. It seemed as it slumped from nowhere.

   People gathered around, trying to conclude out what was that strange object. They could not found out much since they were scared to move it or go closer to it. At least not closer than about 3 miles.

 An hour or two after tensions came down a bit, a novelty of the town and assembly of the elder passed to the sight. They all were covered in traditional Olmec clothing, entirely in colours and ornaments.

 The prefect of the city was, as all people there, confused and mesmerised at the same time by the strobe reason that came to the town from nowhere.

The device was designed as a book and had the appearance of a broken tablet. It was filled by mysterious figures engrave on it. The material of the object was a solid rock, but not like unity found on the Earth. The space object radiated by purplish colour.

 The town chief had a glimpse of shock in eyes, and worry exposed on his face. He spoke observing the image in front of him:

“I know what it can be! I have heard the story once! It was not identical but close to this one! The foreign object came from the sky, from the stars! Not from father founders, but from the Star people. They have been touring the Earth for hundreds of years, as my ancestors told me the story about it. I do not know the specific focus in this, but I know one thing.  That object contains something important; it will teach us a valuable lesson or give us our first destruction."

After the discussion, everybody soothed in own thoughts, and the designed silence was pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. Suddenly the leader spoke in politically correct fashion since it was expected from him:

"We should first decode the meaning of symbols, and then we shall grieve about the future. Let us all work together on it, if all of you agree, of course!"

Everybody ended up managing together on the “sky-gift”. Within the 2-3 weeks, the symbols were decoded or at least the Olmec people thought that. They have transcribed it into a math symbol. Maybe it is convenient to state, incompetent to understand cryptography the Olmec chose to adopt them as the math symbols or letters, hieroglyphs.

                          They remained living they live, blooming and recording the story. The population formed the calendar and drainage system. The community was the first know culture to phantom existence of zero and first to establish hieroglyphics and numbering mathematical system. Although area prospered people know, all felt it in their bones that the end will come, they will be gone, it was as the "sky-stone" spoke to them and said, “Everything brought to existence must perish and so will you.”

Before they dispersed, they made large images of their gods which community considered had given that space-stone to people. But deep inside they all agreed that they were wrong since they realised that real authenticity had not been revealed.  

   When conquistadors arrived, men found no people, just great kingdom, the capital city and mysterious figures used as a language in the system of words and numbers. They found no space-stone. They found no people. But a bizarre feeling was riding about, and doubt of the unknown arose. Consequently, they buried and destroyed almost everything connected to the Olmec culture. Only statues endure on the several cities, remains of the drainage system and symbols, symbols in the sub-conciseness.

The "sky-stone" was undoubtedly from the extra-terrestrial species, as many of you apparently thought of. Yet, the stone did not purposely drop on the planet Earth. The spaceship was gently floating overhead the planet when one meagre piece of it slumped off. What a bizarre coincidence, just a probability, right? The universe does not give you what you ask but what you need to understand your mission, your purpose in the magnificent game.  

Regarding the Olmecs, it is shallower than you thought it would be. I will keep that as a secret and make all others considering other possible options, and imagination will run wild. After all, what joy would it be at all, to show you all the mysteries of recorded history?

 You are the starts deadened in the skin;

The universe is in your bones

And in the fracture of the soul

And it will never come to an end!

“Trust me,” said joyfully the Universe “I know what I am performing here."

[aslightstep]

8 - Aesir!Tony/Thor

Some legends are told/Some turn to dust or to gold/But you will remember me/Remember me, for centuries

Note: bastardization to the extremes of Norse mythology. Tyr = Tony. 

Centuries

Thor crept along the halls of his home, down past the guards to where the infirmary was. Father had forbidden him from visiting ‘too soon,’ but Father was only sore at Tyr for not celebrating the great conquering of Fenrir, the mighty wolf that was prophesied to eat his Odin whole some day, choosing to stay in the infirmary and nurse his injury alone.

Thor had celebrated merrily at his brother and mother’s side; his father was safe and Tyr, in his bravery, had proven his worth to his parents to stand by Thor’s side. But as the night grew long and Tyr continued to stay away - from a feast that in other words was being held in his honor! The hero Tyr, savior of the All-Father and Asgard! - his heart grew heavy. Tyr was a blacksmith, and a master of weapons and war. The loss of his hand must have grieved him greatly.

But the infirmary, when he finally arrived, was empty.

“Are you looking for Lord Tyr?” One of the healers asked, a knowing smile on her face. Thor felt his cheeks heat at what kind of knowing that might be. He had very little shame left within him, but he and Tyr were not…discreet in their affections. It seemed like every servant or lord in the palace had happened upon them at least twice. “He left an hour ago. He didn’t say well, but a bright prince like yourself surely has an idea.”

Thor was already leaving before she had spoken, a hopeful smile on his face.

Tyr’s smithy was a place of wonder, swords and shield and armor hung on the walls and strewn about the tables surrounding the great forge in the center. Enchanted suits of mail worked busily at patching holes and sharpening blades, lit up from within by their inscribed runes. The great magic fire of Jalmari crackled merrily in the middle of the forge, belying the true power that Thor had been blessed enough to see only once or twice.

Sitting on the lip of the forge was Tyr, tinkering with a gold and red gauntlet, holding it awkwardly between his bicep and forearm. The stump where his right hand had been before it was lost to Fenrir’s bite was already healed over.

“You’ve enchanted helpers just for this sort of work,” Thor said, smiling hesitantly as he crossed the room. Tyr looked up, saw him, and smiled back, just as tremulous.

“This is the kind of work I need to do on my own,” he said softly. Thor stopped in front of his lover, looking at the runes he had already carved into the metal.

“Shall I leave you, then?” he asked softly, and when Tyr’s eyes met him they shined in firelight. It took Thor’s breath away, even as his heart broke.

Tyr was standing, crushing the gauntlet between them as he flung his arms around Thor. “Never,” he said into the crook of his neck, and Thor returned the embrace, feeling the minute trembling in that deceptively slight frame. For all that Tyr was the bastion of the anger and fire of war, he also embodied the empathy and compassion that caused men both to fight and to drop to their knees to stem the wounds of an enemy.

“Then I will stay. Always,” Thor promised.

Tyr side, pressed a kiss into the skin over his pulse, and pulled away. “Hold this. I need to make one last adjustment.” Thor took the offered gauntlet and held it as indicated.

“Tyr-” he tried to speak, though he had no idea what he would say.

“I don’t regret it,” Tyr cut in, not looking up. “I agreed to chain Fenrir, I agreed to give up my hand. It was the right thing to do, Thor.” He finished the rune and looked up. “I would do it again.”

“It will not be forgotten,” Thor said solemnly, leaning down to press his lips hard against his lover’s forehead. “Your sacrifice will be sung through the ages.”

Tyr snorted, pushing Thor back playfully. Thor was cheered to see his good humor returning. “It’s just a hand. I’ve already got a replacement.” He wiggled the gauntlet back and forth, laughing as Thor’s jaw dropped. “What, did you think I would leave it up to Loki or someone else? Did you see what he did to Sif’s hair?”

“Believe me, he has paid for that a thousand times over,” Thor chuckled. “How shall I help?”

“Hold me?” Tyr asked, turning towards the flames. “Jalmari always takes care of me, but the pain will be great, I can’t deny it.”

Thor held Tyr, close enough for comfort but loose enough to move, as the smaller man stuck his hands into the flame just as they burst to life. He did not scream, but it was a close thing.

Afterwards they rested against the flagons of stone that made the forge, watching Tyr wriggle his new fingers. “How does it feel?” Thor whispered.

“Marvelous,” Tyr breathed. “Strong.” He turned to Thor, his eyes taking on a speculative, possessive gleam that Thor knew and cherished well. “Would you like to see for yourself?”

Tyr’s hands made quick work of his armor as Thor’s head fell back. Centuries of this, he thought, and he smiled.

Tyr was dressed in his red and gold armor, as he always was these days, when he came to Thor’s tent that night.

“The battle comes at dawn,” he said unnecessarily, shedding plate until he was only gauntlet and bare skin, sliding in beside Thor and letting himself be held. 

“I’ll be by your side,” Thor swore, running his hands through curling dark hair.

“It’s foolishness,” Tyr whispered. “I am War. I know where I am not to be. We should compromise with the Vanir. They are clever and fierce, as we are. We should be joining together, not fighting.”

“They threaten everything we hold dear,” Thor responded. “Our home, our way of life.”

“They are not Jotunns, intent on dominion,” Tyr snapped, then immediately subsided. “I just. I dread the dawn. I wish to stay in this moment with you forever.” The red and gold gauntlet intertwined with Thor’s hand, and they both stared at the contrast until Tony brought them both up and kissed the seam where they met, before rolling over onto Thor. “I am War,” he repeated. “My blood needs to sing.”

Thor heard his unvoiced demand and tugged him up, closer, ran lines of fire down his sides. “Then I will plays its song.” 

The night was not long enough.

Thor lost sight of Tyr in the midst of battle. When the tide stemmed all around him, when warriors dropped their weapons one by one and turned towards the west, his heart dropped low.

He found Tyr, bleeding and broken, the red and gold cracked around him, exposing the skin he had worshipped just hours ago. Thor ran the few short meters left, collapsing beside him. Sif and the Warriors Three lingered at the edges of his vision. Somewhere someone was calling for a way to be made for the prince, meaning Loki was coming, but all Thor could see was the trickle of blood running down his love’s face.

“Thor,” Tyr managed on a cough, red misting up into the air with his breath. He raised his hand, palming Thor’s cheek. “I am sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Thor insisted, holding that shaking hand to him. “Do not talk. You are War. You do not end.”

“Of all the terrible things to tell a dying man,” Tyr said, trying to smile. His mouth was bloody; Thor kissed it anyway. “I made you promise to stand beside me…I am sorry I cannot do the same.”

“Don’t say that,” Thor cried, burying his head in Tyr’s broken chest. “Don’t apologize. All the time I ever had with you - I was unworthy.”

“You were. I love you. I - always will.” Tyr’s eyes grew distant, and Thor rocked him gently, like he was simply going to sleep, like they were back in bed, in love, forever. “Remember me, Thor. Remember me. One more promise.”

“I will, I will,” Thor said fervently. In the distance, Loki echoed his promise, then Sif, then the Warriors, then a thousand soldiers, enemy and ally alike. Tyr smiled even as his breath stuttered to a stop, his eyes losing focus. He died in Thor’s arms, and Thor did not know when he stopped screaming.

“Peace,” Thor said when the war council next convened. Tyr’s body was resting in his boat, ready to be put to sea. “We ask for peace.”

Odin looked at him, and where Thor expected surprise, he only saw sober understanding.

Centuries passed, and Thor grew unruly. He was cast out, down to the world of Midgard, deemed unworthy. He found himself missing Tyr fiercely, Tyr who would have been by his side, Tyr who would have followed him.

Tyr, who here was legend. It cheered Thor, even as it saddened him.

“Tyr kinda fades out after this,” Darcy said after noting Thor’s interest in his story. “What happened to him?”

Thor stared at the (incredibly inaccurate) portrait of a War God. His armor was plain and black, but the artist had managed to capture at least one thing in the proud tilt of that defiant chin. “He died,” he said quietly. It had never stopped hurting.

“Oh, man,” Darcy said, then peered at Thor’s face, apparently seeing the truth of it if the devastated expression on her face meant anything. “Oh, man.”

“Indeed,” Thor replied, and that was the end of that.

Until he saw a red and gold armor flying on the picture box. “Whoa!” Jane screeched when he stood and crossed to it, holding it so tightly it groaned. “That’s just Iron Man, okay? Tony Stark. He’s kind of a superhero now.”

“That armor.” He watched this Iron Man, this Tony, weave back and forth through similar looking suits, blasting them apart. The compact and ease of movement, the cleverness of his tactics, the red and gold. Remember me, Tyr had pleaded. Thor had kept that promise. This could not be anyone else. “I must go to him.”

“Um,” Jane said.

The next day the Destroyer attacked, Thor was sent home, his brother was lost, and the Bifrost destroyed. Tyr was lost to him again.

The first time he saw Iron Man fight in person, it was against himself.

“I do not wish to harm you, Tyr,” he pleaded, blocking up a blow.

“It’s Tony, big guy. Mr. Stark if you’re nasty,” the man told him while blasting him back. “And if you don’t want to fight, maybe don’t steal my stuff!”

Loki grinned at him the whole way back in the helicopter while Tony Stark regarded him with curious but distant eyes. Eyes that Thor had loved, once.

Thor remembered. Tyr had not.

He was saddened to see how closed off this Tony was, how he had lost his purpose as War since the beginning. War was not for profit, and it was not to be taken lightly. A sword is truly a shield until you swing it at the wrong person. Tyr had taught him that. Tony had seemingly learned this lesson, but however it had happened had carved out great parts of his heart.

Or maybe, he said, watching Tony’s expression fall minutely as the Captain berated him, he had just hidden them away.

“I believe that is enough,” he broke in, and both men turned to him. There was a moment of naked gratefulness and hope in Tony’s eyes before it disappeared. “Past mistakes do not define us, though they should never be forgotten. Leave them behind, for all our sakes.”

Of course, that did not stop Loki’s plan of destruction. He saw Tony look back over his shoulder at him as he and the Captain ran for the suit, and then he was gone.

“I feel the oddest compulsion to say ‘this is just like old times,’” Iron Man said to him as the Avengers circled up, waiting for orders. “You sure you’re a god, Point Break? You didn’t oh, I don’t know, gain some freak powers after an epic beach party down in Cancun in the early 90s?”

Thor did not know what half of those words meant, but he laughed anyway. Iron Man’s head tilted at the sound and his faceplate slid up. “Seriously, Thor. This deja vu is off the charts.”

“Perhaps it is the battle,” he replied. “Doesn’t it make your blood sing?”

“Singing blood?” Tony smiled, his eyes going a little distant. “That would play some pretty wild tricks on the mind, huh?”

“Verily,” Thor agreed softly, and Tony peered closely at him, looking confused before Captain Rogers began calling out orders and the faceplate slid down. 

Thor lost track of him, and began to panic. The stab wound in his side from Loki’s dagger pained him greatly; it must have been poisoned. He stumbled in his movements and suddenly Iron Man was at his back.

They fought perfectly, executing moves and combinations Thor had not used in centuries. Tyr no longer fought with a sword, but he had long used the type of science that Tony used in his gauntlets.

“Keep your head up, big guy,” Tony told him as they cleared out the area. “You’re not allowed to leave me. You promised.”

The suit froze for a second, the helmet tipping in Thor’s direction as his heart seized in his chest. “Wait-” Tony said, even as Thor reached forward with a whispered “Tyr” on his lips, before more aliens came.

Tony blasted up to the sky and was lost again, and the next time Thor saw him, he was disappearing into the wormhole.

The Captain let Thor drag Tony’s body to him, even though both he and the Hulk must have been confused. Thor ripped off the faceplate, fighting not to scream as the same still face he remembered from centuries ago was revealed.

“You’re fine,” Thor insisted, grabbing Tony’s right gauntlet and holding it to his face. “You are War. You do not end.” He closed his eyes.

“Of all the terrible things to tell a dead man,” a raspy voice croaked out, and the Captain gasped out loud. Thor opened his eyes to find Tony staring back at him, at the gauntlet intertwined with Thor’s own hand. As if in a daze, he brought their hands to his lips and kissed the seam where they met.

“Tyr,” Thor whispered. 

“Thor,” Tony - Tyr - replied, a weak smile beginning to form on his face. “You remembered.”

(The team took the revelation well in stride: by that meaning the Captain threw his hands up in the air, said “Sure, fine, Tony can be a god, too” and the archer had remarked “It is just impossible for you not to be famous!” and the Black Widow had added that being the embodiment of War explained a lot and no, Stark, that wasn’t an insult, and the doctor had simply asked if he could test Tony’s blood when they got back to a working lab.

”You know,” Tony said as the team sat around the table, eating the oddly-named food. He was remembering more every second, but remained ‘Tony’ for now and might always. Thor would call him whatever name he wished; he was merely happy to have him in his lap right now, feeding bits of meat to him. “That kinda explains how I keep living through all the absurd shit I do.”

“Going headfirst through that window,” Steven said, nodding.

“Metal poisoning,” the archer added. “Saw Nat’s notes on that. You should totally be dead, man.”

“Afghanistan,” Tony listed, grimacing. “Electrocution, lots of blunt force trauma, like three overdoses…”

“Also how you’ve looked thirty three for fifteen years,” the Lady Natasha remarked, and Tony pointed at her, apparently adding it to some invisible tally. 

Thor’s chest rumbled in laughter, and Tony shivered a little, basking in the vibrations, which only made Thor’s laughter grow. That was something old between them, too. It was a joy to see.

He was eager, however, to begin finding things new.)

[mackjao]

Letter #1

To Sister #2 (final version, fully finished & complete)

Fall 2011

I admit, I did not know of you even when you first came to Pittsburgh from California along with all the others that comprised the incoming CMU Class of ‘15 as a freshman all those years ago in the fall of 2011. Sure, I had seen glimpses of you here and there from various Large Groups and Joyful Noise concerts beginning the year that you first started attending CMU as a freshman but for reasons still unknown to this day, I never really took the time to get to know or to follow up with you then. Perhaps it was all the things that I was learning from God in regards to the Gospel, how that ties to the Day of the Lord, and the implications of how that changes everything in regards to the way I do life/why it is that we as Christians do life (live/work/play, ministry, discipleship, witness, etc.) the way that we do it, that really kept me preoccupied, perhaps it was all the suffering that I was going through and was able to persevere through by faith/the grace of God/the strength that He supplied, that year that led to my continual sanctification/refining of my faith in God/ further development of my Christian character, but that also kept me relatively ignorant & unaware of most incoming freshmen in general, or maybe perhaps it was the very real possibility that our paths never really intersected all that much in the beginning. Here we were, two very separate individual, distinct, and beautiful souls that, although were both in Pittsburgh at the time, were indeed busily living and learning so very much in two very separate and different circles and worlds.

Fall 2012

Yet, the first time I really began to hear more about you and become much more aware of you was especially after your breakup during your sophomore year with a brother that had been in my cell group. I admit, hearing the story of what led to that heartbreaking result from that brother’s point of view was indeed tragic. Yet even so, I could only imagine the amount of pain, heartbreak, and grief that you were bearing, shouldering, and experiencing due to the fallout. Acutely aware that that was indeed the case, that you were indeed most vulnerable and in shambles from what I could observe from afar, I chose wisely to avoid and to keep my distance from you as much as possible in order to give you the time and space you needed to process all of that, as you took your time to grieve, mourn, and to heal from the loss and the mess that accompany a breakup of that degree. Yet at the same time, I began to become all the more aware of a gnawing question in my mind that only grew stronger with passing time, one that I genuinely want to ask everybody I cross paths with if possible but don’t due to the finite limitations of being human (i.e. limited time & energy, only one of me & only so much of me to go around before I run out of energy), “Who are you?”

Winter 2013

As such, that was indeed the one gnawing question that really motivated me to want to follow up with you and to find out the answer to that question. Even though there were times that it felt like forever, I was indeed willing to wait because it was the kind of wait worth waiting for ... an opportune space and time when and where we could just sit down and talk. A question that began to be answered, interestingly enough, during one cold winter evening in January '13 on the way to ACF Winter Retreat. From what we both found out prior to boarding the retreat bus, inclement weather was the reason for the numerous delays (numerous hours, in fact) that stretched a bus ride that should have taken only 1.5 hours to many more hours and led to our late arrival at the retreat site later that night. Yet at the same time, that was all the more a possible opportunity for me to get to know you better, an opportunity that came rather surprisingly out of nowhere when you chose, whether by coincidence or by your own intentions (I wonder), to sit right next to me on the bus that very night, just you and I together in the kind of common space and time (intersection) that I had secretly been waiting and hoping for all this time.

So that is where our friendship really began to take off ... literally out of nowhere from the ground up when & where our two souls met and were in the same place at the same time on that dark cold winter night on a big yellow bus on the way to ACF Winter Retreat. And I admit, I really was quite pleasantly surprised/taken aback (even) at how well we clicked with one another, like melody & harmony complementing one another in a composition of music in perfect tandem & harmony, sparks indeed flying unlike anything I’ve ever seen, seemingly like lock and key. What initially began as a meet-and-greet sort of conversation (the typical pleasantries of skin-deep shallow questions & answers that characterize the conversations of two people meeting for the first time but that are indeed very necessary) escalated lightning quick into the kind of deep and meaningful conversations that characterize the kind of relationship only friends who have known each other for years typically have, maybe ever lovers in a deep committed relationship who were genuinely & sincerely committed to one another’s well-being. 

One of the things that really struck me about that conversation (and still does to this very day) is how I felt even as this all began to occur oh so very fast right before my very eyes ... how & why did I feel so really safe telling you what I told you that very night (at a loss of words), things that indeed are very close and dear to my very own heart and soul and spirit, some of my deepest fears, anxieties, hopes, dreams, and eventually, life mission/purpose? It still strikes me as rather odd and strange, bizarre even, that I could open up to you so quickly and willingly, a sister who I had never talked with previously and only knew by name prior. 

Yet there you were, relentless (in a good way, of course) and ever so intentional, persistent, and pressing in asking some of the most deepest and meaningful questions of and about me, trying to understand who I was from the very deepest fibers of my being and here I was, willingly opening up to you like never before, spilling like beans and telling you some of the very deepest secrets about my life and exposing to you the very deepest fibers of my being. You were a wonderful virtuoso at using your words to convince me to open up to you like I did and deep down, I marveled at how adept you were at navigating the incredibly delicate folds/edges/layers of the very deepest parts of who I am.

Or maybe it wasn’t so much the fact that I felt so incredibly safe telling you these things as it was the fact that I decided to take a leap of faith from my own end, telling you these things I was leaving up to random chance holding out with the faintest glimmer of hope that maybe someone, anyone, that maybe, out of all people, you’d understand ... finding out oh so very quickly that you indeed did and in my heart, when I saw that you did, I was indeed very happy and glad. 

The other thing I found amazing about that very night is how you managed to convince & to persuade me to tell you from my heart to your heart the very purpose why I was living my life the way I was/doing the things the way I was doing them, etc. ... that deep from the very caverns of my who I am, I wanted to wring my own life out to make faithful/humble/obedient/submissive disciples of Christ for the glory of God, to create and to cultivate safe & challenging (as appropriate) spaces of vulnerability/intimacy/honesty/confession/repentance/growth where God/His Word/the Gospel and His light/faithfulness/goodness could be forever seen, heard, proclaimed, and celebrated, to see people grow and mature in their faith and in Christ and fall into ever-deepening genuine, sincere, and heartfelt love/adoration/awe/wonder/worship/praise of our good and beautiful God that overflows from the very depths of others’ hearts/souls/inner beings in the form of never-ending praise to our God, to raise/train/hone/encourage children (boys or girls) in the Word and in the good life-giving ways of our God to shoot out like arrows (Ps 127:4) into the dying, unbelieving world around us so that they could also live to do the very things that I am doing.

And so that is what happened that very night as minutes stretched into hours and as hours stretched into days and time never-ending, as deep intimate bonds and threads of deep/strong bridges and connections between my heart & soul to your own heart & soul were built astonishingly lightning fast in the span of minutes and hours that felt like an eternity that I (with one side of me) wanted never to end. Honestly, it was one of the few moments of my life in which I had never felt so much joy and even when the retreat bus rolled into the retreat site parking lot many hours later than was originally scheduled, I still felt that very same way and deep down in my own heart, I felt out your heart and intrinsically knew (via a gift that I had been given by God to feel out/discern/know the relative feelings/affections/allegiances of others’ hearts around me) that you also felt the very same way and that the feeling of mutual attraction and connection was indeed not only mutual but also ever so strong and deep. It was indeed on that very day that I realized that I had encountered a very special wonderful friend and fellow sister in Christ and as such, I upgraded our friendship to that of a kindred friendship in the seemingly multiple levels of friendship that I enacted deep within the fibers of my very being, that I would choose to love/care for you as a friend & as a brother in Christ because you not only are a very dear friend to me but also my fellow sister in Christ (it also helped that God was indeed showing me throughout that entire year His heart for His precious, cherished, and beloved daughters/what it meant to see a daughter of God through His eyes/rebuked me directly from on up on high via the beholding of His very presence/voice/and glory through the Spirit for, what was up until then, my insensitivity/refusal to engage on a deeper level with women in general, which led to my immediate genuine confession/repentance of such in prayer (”I am so sorry ... what do you desire of me, my God?”). It was indeed what I did not know up until then but came to learn & to understand that very year that all this is inherent in His design for me as a man of God ... to honor, to serve, and to protect my sisters & their hearts & souls no matter what, regardless of how I feel or what mood I’m in, etc. etc. ... no excuses, no if’s/then’s/but’s, period)

And then I woke up ... 

As much as I cherished that very night that we spent with one another, our hearts and souls mingling & connecting with one another like never before/how we really were both over the moon with one another/how wonderful and beautiful it felt to finally find someone that not only knew but that also understood, the much more cautious & rational side of me rapidly kicked into gear as I went into a very contemplative time of most careful & thoughtful deliberation and reflection about that very night that we spent with one another on the bus. And that is when some of the unspoken fears within me that I had about that night began to surface ... how exposed and vulnerable I felt that very night, how frightening quick that all seemed to take place in the span of mere minutes to hours, how I (out-of-the-blue) had so openly and willingly told you more than I had told any sister in Christ prior (the exception being Sister #1 whom I had consciously told such matters over the span of many months). And so it was in that time of deliberation that I realized that I was indeed in the midst of two wonderful but different godly women and because that was indeed the case, I was only going to choose one sister in Christ to pursue a deeper friendship with in the hope that it would lead to something more. Not only did my conscience demand it, but ultimately it was also the Holy Spirit within me that insisted on it and because that was indeed the case, I was going to choose only one godly woman, period. 

I began to think more carefully and rationalize why things unfolded that night the way it did with you (Sister #2), why I seemed to so quickly yield in the face of the steady stream of questions that you asked me that very night ... and then it finally dawned on me after much reflection that night, definitely more quickly than I had anticipated - that as wonderful as the friendship that we really had was, that there was also indeed a very potent & real danger as well ... that with such a friendship that materialized seemingly out of nowhere so fast like lightning and blossomed into the deep intimate friendship in the span of mere minutes to hours in the span of just one night was also the very real possibility of idolatry in your heart (existing to a degree to which I cannot tolerate in good conscience), that you would indeed try to find your identity, worth, and value in what I thought of you even though God has already given you a priceless identity as His beloved daughter (Eph 5:1) and that you are far more valuable and loved by Him more than you or I could think, imagine, or ever know (Ps 8:3-5, Ps 139:13-18) until that very Day when we will both see Him again in glory face to face. It is in this time that I also found it appropriate to have such a thought: Romance is indeed very beautiful, a wonderful gift from God meant to point us back to Him & to His goodness, but like all the other gifts He gives us to enjoy, if stewarded and enjoyed incorrectly/excessively/elevated to a place to the point of idolatry, onto a pedestal where only the One True God, Maker & Creator of all things both seen & unseen belongs, it indeed makes for & is a terrible god/lord/slavemaster that yields only corruption/destruction/death.

And so it was on that night ... as I realized that the wonderful blessing was also accompanied with potential poison ... the very real threat of idolatry in your heart and the chances of it existing in your heart being sky-high and a whole lot more potent & dangerous than it first seemed at first glance, one that if not confessed/repented of would not only fester but lead you into incredibly dark places of destruction & death and that would end up corrupting/defiling and destroying everything that we had worked so hard to build (1 Cor 5:6-8, Gal 5:9). Moreover, there were just way too many unanswered questions about you that I didn’t have the answers to at the same time ... what kind of character you had, what things you cherished/hated, your purpose/reason for living your life the way you did and whether you were sincere about such that you lived your life in such a manner that demonstrated & affirmed that purpose and reason, how you treated & cared for others around you, how you thought of our God/your parents/authority that had been placed over you by God Himself, the submission you had/didn’t have(?) to these entities in your life and how sincere you were about living out/embracing such submission, and so much more. Furthermore, what really had me initially bewildered was how in the world you could justify being around brothers (specifically in your year) for so prolonged a time who belittled/stabbed/put you down behind your back with words filled with much arrogance & ignorance and because I knew so little about you at that time, I unfortunately viewed that with wary suspicion and considered that heavily along with a great number of many other metrics as a reflection of your character that I, at the time, knew far too little about.

(It also represented one of my greatest failures ... how I failed to stand up for you and defend you in light of these brothers in your year that demonstrated such “boyish” behavior by putting you down with words like this behind your back ... cowardly, wretched, and evil ... the kind of behavior that, in one of the few times in my life as a believer, made me not only sincerely very angry (not uncontrolled anger but righteous anger), but also very sad though it was indeed the great sadness I felt and the fear of man that hindered me from rebuking them as I should have done when I heard this kind of evil spoken from their lips firsthand because I had not yet been set free from the fear of man - it would be later in April ‘14 that God would finally unshackle me from the fear of man via His Spirit and His work within me). (How dare they belittle you, mock you, make fun of you, a beloved daughter of God who is not only made in His image, but who is also incredibly beloved, cherished, and well-loved more than you or I can ever know or imagine until we both see Him again face to face on that very Day. May the Lord rebuke you for your sin) ... sigh)

Furthermore, I considered the timing of all this rather unfortunate ... as I had a month or two ago decided (more or less, resolutely) that Sister #1 was the godly woman that I was going to pursue a deeper friendship with in the hopes that it would lead to something more and to love & to cherish no matter what ... based on what I knew about her through months of conversation, about her character, about who she is). In all honesty, I just simply knew a lot more about her since I had much more time to get to know her as a person in as many aspects as possible via conversations that took place over the span of months vs. the momentarily span of one night. In essence, because I knew so much more about Sister #1, her character, who she is, her story (testimony), what she stood for, and more, I had essentially already been won over by her. And so, after that long night of careful thought/reflection/deliberation, I chose to solidify my decision (one that I had made earlier) and to do what I knew I had to do in order to follow through on that and to honor the choice that I had made ... I had to cut off my friendship with you (Sister #2) cold turkey as suddenly as it had started and had been built on that very night although I indeed was open to the possibility of keeping our friendship platonic. It was at that point that my “no” (the one I laid down that day) was indeed a “no” (Matt 5:37) and, even to this day, remains the same.

After I had made that decision & in order to follow through and honor that decision, I chose to actively avoid any sort of one-on-one encounter with you afterwards. There was indeed a time after I had made that decision that I had a feeling deep down that you would probably take that pretty hard and that there would likely be severe consequences, but because I actively avoided talking with you one-on-one in order to honor & uphold the decision I had made in this regard, I had absolutely no idea how it would affect you and if it would have any consequences on your faith in God in any tangible way. 

It was not very long afterwards (a few months later after the conversation that we had that very night) that I learned that you had chosen to enter into a committed relationship with another brother in ACF from your year that I was indeed very genuinely and sincerely happy for you two (Rom 12:15) because I knew even after I had made my decision, that you were a godly woman & sister in Christ who would unlikely remain single for very long. Yet even then, I decided that I would put out feelers via people who were around you more often & knew you better than I did not so much to spy on you with any sort of malicious intent but rather with the intention to keep tabs on and to hear about you from others how you were doing from time to time since I could not in any way justify having an one-on-one with you to any extent without utterly violating my conscience due to the fact that you were already in a committed relationship with the ACF brother that we both know 

Still, I found out most curiously even then despite that fact that in the vastly reduced number of opportunities (by my doing) that I did get to see you in group settings from afar (esp. JN concerts) that in those times, you seemed to stand a little taller and to show a little more spirit & vitality than I normally notice from you. When I first started noticing this, I thought “What the heck ... it’s probably my imagination or I must be dreaming or it’s probably just got to be part of putting on some sort of face/veneer typical of what may or may not involved with acapella or something ...” Yet when I observed and then realized that it was not only that time but also many more instances down the road that this happened, I began to take more notice you once again and realized that deep within me I also still had a gnawing curiosity about you that had not died even from months ago when it first manifested and started growing at a rather astonishing pace but one which I had to exercise self-control over via the help of the Holy Spirit (Gal 5:22-23) within me. 

And so I decided that I was going to start taking notes on you from afar once more so that I could indeed build a more complete profile of who you are not only to answer many of the unanswered questions that I still had about you from prior, but also so that I could see if there was indeed any way in which I could encourage you and minister directly to your heart, soul, and spirit, but in a way that would not utterly violate my conscience.

Fall 2014

It was after a ridiculously spiritually dark summer when I lost the battle for a time against my human pride (a problem I came to realize about myself after extensive correspondence with Sister #1) and was utterly blinded by it while losing 25% of my body weight (50 lbs in the span of 2 months from 205 lbs -> 155 lbs; extremely unhealthy, would never ever recommend it to anyone) simultaneously via hardcore dieting/exercising/ingesting large volumes of water to stay “full” not with the truest intention of impressing anybody but rather knowing that I probably would not live very long were I to maintain such a heavy weight, that I would not have any more motivation than I did then to lose all that weight the older I got, and that I wanted to do so in order to live longer for the sake of being involved in God’s work/ministry (one of the few sane decisions that I made in this time span as the malnutrition I intentionally endured due to all these efforts led, for the most part, to pride that blinded me along with utter madness, idolatry, delirium, and to me making indeed some very poor, ridiculous and insane decisions indeed (how in the world? ... sigh) that I had gotten word from one of my feeler contacts that you had been struggling with body image issues and had tried to lose weight unsuccessfully also in rather unhealthy ways that very same summer. It was then that I realized that you had fallen into the all too common trap & sin of comparison, one of two buckets of sin that women commonly struggle with (the other being perfection) that I died a little on the inside, found myself utterly horrified, put down the mental clipboard that I was taking notes about you on, grieved & mourned, and indeed had a very heavy & broken heart. Although I was not directly responsible for your decision to fall into sin via telling you to sin, I realized that I, along with my ridiculous decisions however pure/impure they may/may not have been, was the indirect reason why you had fallen into the sin of comparison which leads nowhere but to destruction and death (James 1:14-15). 

And so it was after that summer after I had found out about all this from one of my feeler contacts that my grief & sadness concerning you along with your sin became not only heavier but rather pronounced. Though I did my best to hide it all from you even during the only time that we were able (in the span of four years ... imagine that) to celebrate our shared birthday (September 18) with one another over lunch that very September (just you and I; a most kindred time, btw), that grief & sadness, although it did not ruin it completely, did indeed weigh heavily on me and served to drain some of the happiness that might have been derived from that moment in time.

It was also earlier that month that MT had decided to create IchThYs as a way to more actively reach out to students on Pitt campus that I had taken the liberty myself before the fall semester started to be rather proactive about setting up the time/space for the meetings of that joint cell group back in August with the brother whom you were in a committed relationship with so that by the time you had asked me to do so, it had already been done because it is indeed one of my secret joys of which I was most giddy & enthusiastic about: setting up & cultivating spaces where God, His Word, the Gospel, along with His goodness/faithfulness/beauty could be seen/heard/proclaimed for the glory of God and for the good of those around me, which led to you being most impressed with me (even though it was really not my intention to do so; though I did not think of it much at the time, I wonder if it was perhaps a mistake not to ... heh).

And then I had my accident early in October ‘14 ... one in which while coming back to PIT from BOS via PHL on the PA Turnpike I hydroplaned, which led to my car rolling over five times, and escaped death by only a fraction of a hair (saved by God Himself via divine intervention) with merely a bump on my head and a totaled car. It was after that accident that I woke up, as if from an incredibly deep slumber (Eph 5:14), and became incredibly aware that there were some deep sin issues that needed to be dealt with in my own life ... all the pride, idolatry, hate, and so much more that had accumulated in my heart/soul/spirit/inner being, over the course of the past six months ... man, was it ugly and wretched indeed. The kind of stuff that made me utterly hate myself during that season of my life (not recommended, not godly behavior) that only served to lead me into ever darker places.

My mother came shortly after that accident occurred to visit me in Pittsburgh not too long after and as such, I spent time with her that weekend. When I saw the genuine respect & honor you gave to my mother in the way you treated her during her visit to Pittsburgh, my respect for you began to rise again once more, something I didn’t even bother to try to stifle and to impede in any way, because it is a level of respect I have for you that is not only indeed well-deserved but also well-earned.

After two separate nights shortly after that accident, after I allowed the company of three brothers from your year to come visit me one night in a good-will gesture to comfort me (they really didn’t have much to say to me although I’m not even sure myself what I’d say to someone who had gone through something similar to what I had gone through; regardless, it was a gesture that I appreciated nevertheless) and another separate night of deep reflection over my own life and the state of my heart/mind/soul/inner being, I decided that the only way this was going to end well was if I cut myself completely out of ACF and PCC for a time to deal with all these issues directly. And so that is what happened ... as I deliberately cut myself out of ACF/PCC/anything related to Christianity or church for three months. Those three months ended up being one of the darkest seasons of my life ... as I found myself falling once more again into deep sin (pride, idolatry, evil, hate), some of which was perpetuated by my stupid but understandable decision to attempt numbing myself to all the pain/suffering/grief/loss of life purpose & reason to live/self-hate/denial that I felt after that accident) and being brought down to the one of the lowest points of my life once more (only comparable to the point prior in my own life where I was brought down low as as a non-believer before coming to faith in Christ during my junior year in high school) before I came to realize once again by the grace of God my utter depravity and wretchedness without God and His Holy Spirit and was able to sincerely & genuinely repent with a broken and contrite heart like that of David in Ps 51, receive forgiveness and restoration, along with the charge from God Himself to once more take part in the Great Commission and to teach sinners His ways once more (Ps 51:13). I admit, I found it hard to ignore people from ACF, those who tried again and again to convince me to come back, only to be met with utter silence from my end and an eventual giving up on their part (honestly, who could blame them?). And even though I decided to attend the Pitch Please concert towards the end of the fall semester as a way to support a freshman brother who was a member of IchThYs, I bumped into those from ACF along with you (ah crap) and tried again & again, eventually failing, to ignore all of you as if all of you were dust & as if I had never known any of you not out of ill will but so that I would not be distracted from doing what I needed to do on my own end.

I still remember you asking me that very night after the concert how I was doing and how I was feeling after all that I had gone through. I admit, when I looked straight at you deep into your eyes that very night in an attempt to feel out how sincere you were in asking that very question to me, I saw a heart that not only was full but indeed was overflowing with deep sincere/genuine love, care, kindness, sympathy, compassion, intentionality, along with all of other good fruits of the Spirit that I found so wonderful to see from your beautiful tender godly heart. Although (deep down inside) I was deeply moved and not only sincerely appreciated but was also thankful for that,  I couldn’t bring myself to be open, real, and vulnerable with you, not only because it would be an utter violation of my conscience in regards to the committed relationship you were already in, but also because I had learned the hard way from a previous experience in which I opened up previously with another sister in ACF who was also in a committed relationship with another brother at the time after my failure then to dissuade her not to continue her prodding not too long ago only to find that my grief was indeed so great at the time that she could not bear it and it ended up overwhelming her to the point of many tears and great sorrow (a scene that only served to break my heart even more), resulting in a broken relationship that even to this day has not been fully mended despite my most sincere efforts to do all that I could to reconcile with her but yet I am fully at peace with all my efforts to do so, however imperfect they may be (Rom 12:18). And so remembering the brokenness that I had caused previously & unintentionally last time and having no desire to perpetuate more brokenness that would only add to my great sorrow and grief, I chose to act by deliberately shutting you out, rejecting all of your questions and attempts to care for me in order to protect you/your heart and our friendship that I indeed cherished so very much and did not want to bear the agony of seeing it being broken at this point in time. I also did this in order to protect you from the darkness within me that I had to deal with by myself with the help of God alone (prideful, maybe? but really, just how it all needed to go down)

It was after my encounter with God Himself at the end of those three dark months in the spring semester after having received mercy, grace, and love from God Himself as I confessed/repented of my sins before Him, being restored, and then re-commissioned once more, that I was ready once more to participate and to partake of God’s work and ministry once again, but this time with the kind of childlike faith, meekness, and humility that I had struggled to live out and to walk in the first go-around. And so it was during that spring semester that I partnered with you platonically as a dear friend, fellow coworker, and as a brother in Christ to set up the kind of spiritual spaces that I had been designed from the very beginning to create and to cultivate as a man of God, however imperfectly. It was also in that time that I was once more able to witness the wonderful help that you were to me and in the work of ministry as you played your part beautifully as a godly woman, using your words to help me build up, encourage, point others back to God/His Word/the Gospel along with His goodness/faithfulness, etc in the spiritual spaces that I attempted to create and was able to do so through the power of the Holy Spirit and that deep down inside, I had the utmost of sincere appreciation/thankfulness/gratitude towards you in regards to what a wonderful help you were in the work of ministry in regards to IchThYs and those who attended and that my respect for you again began to rise even more.

As an aside, there was also a time after those three dark months prior to the spring semester that I had a time of thoughtful contemplation of how I could go about encouraging your heart/soul/spirit/inner being that I was relatively certain of that may have been discouraged/weak/weary at times in a way that would not utterly violate my conscience while also being able to exercise the gifts (encouragement, hospitality, teaching, helps, etc.) and utilize the resources that God had given me to use for His glory despite your sin that was a source of deep grief & sorrow for me because I chose to have mercy on you despite your sin (James 2:13) and to give you a second chance, hoping that by that time you had sincerely confessed/repented of your sin before our good God that it finally came to me ... what not a better way than to support JN (a cause that I also indeed supported wholeheartedly) by baking bread and creating spiritual spaces with some of its members indiscriminately and without partiality to see if there were any open doors for me there to take so that I could encourage and build up those in JN in love and in truth. And so that is what I chose to do and to carry out from the beginning of the spring semester onwards ... using the baking of bread as an reason to visit you along with the other JN members at late night practices as much as I possibly could all that semester ... to give you all bread as a way for me to love on you all and utilizing my spiritual gifts along with indirectly encouraging and supporting you via these small acts, Sister #2, as well. Though I knew that I could not encourage you directly one-on-one without utterly violating my conscience, I hoped that this would serve as a way for me to demonstrate that I indeed did care very dearly for you as a dear friend and as a brother in Christ. 

I still vividly remember you, on one of the nights that I came to visit bearing bread in good cheer, inviting & encouraging me to pray on behalf of the group right before the group broke for the night after a long night of practice & rehearsal even though I was not a member of JN. Although I initially was quite surprised that you chose to do so, I eventually chose to agree to your request and used that prayer, however imperfectly, to remind each JN member why it is they do what they do by singing and utilizing song, word, and melody: to testify of God, His Word, the Gospel, His goodness, His mercy, His love, His forgiveness, and where that could be seen, heard, proclaimed unto undying end ... Christ and Him crucified at the Cross. It was also with great joy (besides baking bread for you all along with praying along with all of you and setting up spiritual spaces with JN members indiscriminately in the background) that I chose to joyfully serve by helping the group, along with you, to drive from PIT to BOS for BIDB that year. Overall, it was just a wonderful and blessed time indeed, not only the concert itself but also during the journey on the way up and back ... that I was indeed able to support you all via this way as well as buying food of sorts and baking bread to feed, to bless, to encourage, and to love on you all.

October 2015

I remember you being most surprised when I suddenly announced that I was going to pay a visit to you & the others in the Bay Area along with Jonathan near month’s end for four consecutive days. Though I had indeed hinted at such a possibility only a month prior when our shared birthday came and went during our brief dialogue & exchange of customary birthday well-wishes & tidings, I didn’t think you actually expected me to follow through on that proposition that I had made not too long prior then. 

Nevertheless, I indeed wanted to come ... to see how you all were doing and also to use the opportunity at the same time to learn more about the area, its culture, its people, along with having a bird-eye’s view of the community that you came out of (specifically, your church community), should the opportunity allow. And so it was that Jonathan and I made it into the area Thursday night during CMU’s mid-semester break, staying at a beloved ACF brother’s residence that that was how it all began. I had even decided to prepare for the trip beforehand by making sure to bake a couple loaves of bread as a way to bless the others who chose to come and tag along, even though I was not asked or expected in any way to do so. And even though it involved a whole lot of driving, walking, hiking, late-night conversations, and so forth, I indeed did cherish every moment of the trip, however brief it may have been. Not only did I get to catch up with a beloved brother over many hours on Friday during a hike in the woods for half a day, but I was also able to see how everyone was doing via various gatherings, trips, excursions, and dinners (well, so it seemed at cursory glance) but even more so what kind of church community you came out of when I came to visit you at your church along with Chris who also agreed to come along since his church at the time was in a tumultuous season of transition and prayerfully seeking God for what direction & vision He wanted that church community to pursue and to embrace. There was also a time during one of the excursions in which you and I began to converse one-on-one in public, only to be interrupted all too quickly to my dismay, but deep down inside, I held out hope & and had faith that there would be another time down the road in which I would be able to converse with you one-on-one once more.

At the same time that I had the opportunity to get a bird eye’s view of your church community, there were indeed things that I liked and was encouraged to see. One of the best parts that has been a consistent theme again and again was witnessing the humble beginnings from which you grew up in & from under God’s tender care along with the others who attended your church. I really love seeing that ... why? Because it’s a testament to the Great and Sovereign Lord that we love & serve, a God that raises and trains men & women how to be godly & live godly lives from obscure and very humble beginnings, (i.e. David and his humble beginnings, Israel a seemingly insignificant nation that would become great and mighty under God’s care, a God that breathes life and light into every space that He resides in, even in the most dead of places [i.e. Ezk 37:1-14]). 

Yet, while during worship, there was something indeed that I was not particularly thrilled in any way, shape, or form to see ... a time that was supposed to be consecrated to glorifying our God and Him alone that while I sang worship & praise right from the row behind you in song, melody, and harmony, that I noticed you having to excuse yourself from the room rather abruptly. And while many others may not think much of it & think that moment to be relatively insignificant, I could sense that something was spiritually off (via the gift God had given to me through the Spirit to be able to feel out/ascertain the affections/allegiances of others’ hearts to a certain degree) and came to see (like having cold water splashed on my face, like waking up from a deep sleep with renewed alertness & vitality after a time) that even after two years of being in a committed relationship with the brother that we both knew from your year that you still struggled against your idolatry of me (finding your identity to some degree in what I thought of you) and had deep-rooted insecurities about yourself that were exposed only when you were around me. In essence, I had unknowingly & unintentionally become an idol and stumbling block to you, one that if not dealt with swiftly on my end would lead sin to fester and to defile your worship to God. 

From the beginning of the trip, I had secretly wondered to a certain degree if I would indeed be able to maintain platonic ties with you infrequently throughout the years to come only to find that however possible that might have seemed then, that that was no longer going to be possible in any way/shape/form especially after what I saw that very morning from you ... seeing through spiritual eyes via the Spirit your struggle against idolatry of me and the deep-rooted insecurities that were exposed even at my mere presence in your life to any perceptible & tangible degree. And so I found out from that very point that maintaining platonic ties was no longer going to be possible, that you were, in some way/shape/form, always going to struggle against that idolatry of me & the deep-rooted insecurities when around me at least while in this age, that you were not going to be able to bear the burden of being in platonic relationship with me, however much I wanted it to remain that way, that I had to devise a way of permanently exiting/cutting off the friendship, however much I may cherish such a friendship, out of mercy for you and out of my utmost love for God, my love for you, and to honor the committed relationship that you were already in. Though it was indeed not something I wanted to do and though I struggled internally deep within with the conviction that I had to follow through with this not to be a heartbreaker/not to be cruel or malicious or cold in any way but rather to be kind and loving and merciful (esp. considering how much it pains me to see you struggle against such things when I am around you), I knew that I had to do whatever it took and sacrifice whatever is necessary as a man of God in order to lead in righteousness in regards to our friendship and to seek first His Kingdom & His righteousness first and foremost out of my utter sincere devotion to God first and foremost as my first love, and to uphold His design for me as a man of God (Matt 6:33, Hosea 1:1-3 ... the struggle Hosea must have had in obeying God by marrying one who would be unfaithful to him and yet He still obeyed out of His sincere love to God, His first love, learning how to be satisfied with the knowledge that the pain involved in obedience may benefit those he served and not him personally). 

And so it was right there & then that I began to prepare my final and most valuable gift over an extended period of time for months after witnessing that sight ... one of the most precious gifts that I can give to any sister in Christ (explained later), one that I knew that I could only give to you when I am not only utterly humble & empty of myself but also only when I am alone with you one-on-one in a common time and space, just like it was in the beginning when our kindred friendship first started all those years ago on that cold winter night on that big yellow bus on the way to ACF Winter Retreat in Winter 2013. 

Winter 2016

Before your visit to Pittsburgh, I had heard from one of my feeler contacts from the time you visited D.C. just prior (to attend the wedding of one of your friends from CMU) that during one of the conversations that you had with people there that you had expressed a most curious question about me in regards to pondering why, despite your efforts, you had failed to win my heart. Upon hearing about such an occurrence from my contact, I immediately thought about that more and in the end (still do) find it most strange & rather odd, considering that I would much rather think of myself as an undeserving sinner saved by grace (true fact and as such, it keeps me humble) rather than one who is thought highly of (can tempt one to pride & lead one to fall -> resulting in destruction/death, as I’ve found out myself the hard way prior). Although I was initially tempted to think of such as most flattering, I also found myself from deep within resisting against dwelling on such a sentiment and dismissing it in the end out of my own willful determination not to let the knowledge (that I now knew) of the high regard you hold of me (likely something that I earned from you as you had the opportunity to carefully observe my life/the way I did it [both in support of the life purpose that I had mentioned to you from our first conversation prior] over time) once again become a reason & cause for me to become complacent/stagnant in my faith as I had prior (although in the past that was due to a different reason - chiefly, my pride). In the end, life is not about me. I am anything but the point. In the end, it’s always been about God ... I’m really not that incredible, if anything, quite ordinary. However, what I will say is this: is it not God who is extraordinary, is it not God who is altogether beautiful, wonderful, sovereign, almighty, and utterly in control? My life is just one of many ... wonderful testimonies of how extraordinary & wonderful God is ... along with His glorious work in me. In fact, He is the only reason why I am the person I am today and even as I write, becoming more and more the man He’s designed me to be (Eph 2:1-10) ... into the likeness & image of Christ, our Savior/Lord/Redeemer/King.

And so I had gotten word shortly thereafter that you had arrived in Pittsburgh, taking the time to make your rounds to visit those who you wanted to see for however brief the time you were here before going off to wherever you had in mind next. Upon hearing such news, I was rather delighted to hear that you were around and was secretly hoping for an opportunity in which I could be with you one-on-one so that I could indeed give you the gift that I had meticulously been preparing for you on my end for so many months. When I had the opportunity to help you by giving you a ride back from one of your meetups, I just simply jumped at the opportunity because I knew that the window of opportunity for me to do such was indeed closing and would not come again, especially after in light of your struggle against your idolatry of me and insecurities that I knew existed deep within you, even being so enthusiastic to do so that I unintentionally quashed out any sort of conversation with the other sister that you were with at the time (to that sister, my most sincere apologies indeed). 

Even when we had a lunch with the others at Union Grill that early afternoon the day before you would depart Pittsburgh, I tried once more to instill a spiritual space for the glory of God & the good of those around me (always actively looking for opportunities to do so as part of what I’ve been taught by God & how I’ve been discipled by fathers/older brothers in Christ/mentors to do so), however awkward that may have been initially to choose to do so during that time, I saw that you indeed saw intrinsically through spiritual eyes what I was trying to do once more and as such, did what you did oh so wonderfully well as a helper and as a godly woman in helping me to cultivate within that space that I was attempting to create a seeing/hearing/proclaiming/witnessing of God and His Word/Gospel along with His goodness/faithfulness/love/and more, something that I witnessed once more again from you and that elicited from deep within me a sincere most utmost gratitude and appreciation for you in your willingness to help me to carry out what is inherent of His design for me to live out as a man, however imperfectly.

And so it was when the next day came around that you were looking for a way to get to the airport for your flight out of Pittsburgh that upon hearing that, I immediately jumped at the opportunity to help you and to serve you with great joy, anticipation, and enthusiasm, knowing that that was the opportunity that I had indeed been looking for all along after all this time ... a time that you and I could be together one-on-one in common time & space for the very last time, a time when  I could finally give you the gift that I had desperately wanted to give you all along not only as a gesture of good will but also as a gesture of how much I appreciated our kindred bond/friendship over the years and to pay tribute to what a wonderful partner you had been in the work of ministry & God’s work during our shared time in ACF over all these years.

And so it was as I drove with my car to the Beeler house where you were in preparation to drive you to the airport for your departing flight that we were able to share that common time and space with one another one-on-one, just like it was in the beginning, for the very last time. And I knew, especially before then, that in order for me to properly give you the gift that I indeed had to humble and to be emptied of myself utterly before God and before you, a feat not able to be accomplished by any human means and one only made possible with the help of Almighty God, His Spirit, and the grace & strength that He supplies. When I saw you coming from the house to my car, I also saw by your facial expression that you, too, whether by coincidence or by active intention (I would rather think the latter), had also been secretly looking forward to the time in which you and I could be alone together one-on-one once more, just you and I like in the few instances prior, for the very last time. 

So it was that you requested of me after taking the passenger seat besides me that we first make a quick stop at Wholey’s in the Strip District before leaving the city, a request that I was gladly and joyfully willing to honor/fulfill not only because I was delighted to serve, honor, and cherish you & your wishes so long as none of them directly contradicted God & His Word but also because I knew it would also prolong the time that I would have to spend with you one-on-one. 

As progress began to be made towards the airport, I began by revealing to you once more the most delicate areas of who I am because I knew deep within me from previous experience that you would know how to navigate the very complexities of who I am ... the broken bones deep within me that, through God’s judgment executed by Him onto me not with the pure intention to destroy but with the underlying intention to discipline those that He loves & knows as His legitimate children (Heb 12:5-11), had learned how to rejoice in the Lord no matter what and in every season whether of joy or sorrow, good and evil, light and dark, etc. 

I apologized to you, branding myself a fool (how true indeed) for not having listened to you all those years ago when you encouraged me in a brief one-on-one conversation to take on a disciple, blaming myself for my stupidity and my stubbornness (along the lines of “I am so sorry, Sister #2, for not having listened to you after all this time. Please forgive me for my great error.”). From that point, as I found myself in utter humility before God and before you, I found that you indeed, through the words that you spoke gently but firmly to me (speaking the truth in love) out of your sincere tender godly heart that there was not only forgiveness (a gift) found but that there was also grace (a gift) found as well ... the kind of forgiveness/grace that I was looking for, the kind of act/behavior towards me that was the very living embodiment of the Gospel and its core truths/tenets, that I both desperately am needy for all the time so that I could not only come more & more to be reminded of the Gospel & its ever-present reality in regards to this age, not only so that I could grow all the more in my appreciation of God, the Gospel/His Word, and His goodness over the years but also so that I could grow, learn, and mature from my mistakes and, by doing so, become more the godly man God has designed me from the very beginning to be. The gifts of forgiveness and grace that you bestowed upon me even though I am inherently undeserving of such ... are gifts that I was & even to this day sincerely do appreciate & was/am thankful to have received from you, my dear friend & beloved sister in Christ.

It was after that precious exchange & dialogue of intimate tender words that that left the both of us approximately halfway to the airport ... and where you also began to reveal directly to me the most insecure, fragile, and delicate parts of who you were/are from the deepest fibers of your very being ... especially in regards to what others thought of you & as you wavered/doubted/questioned whether you indeed did deserve the high praise & regard that other brothers and sisters in ACF held of you. At that point, I knew that I had found the opening that I was so intently searching for and knew that, however godly, strong, bold, and courageous you may look on the outside initially at first glance to many (and in many ways you are), that there also indeed did exist deep within the very delicate/fragile layers and folds of your heart/mind/spirit/soul/inner being ... your struggle against idolatry & the temptation to find your identity in others and what they thought of you (feels more tangible at times, no?) along with a number of insecurities, doubts, fears, anxieties, and worries about your very God-given identity as a beloved daughter of God that, if not handled properly & delicately, would lead you into many dark spiritual places indeed. 

So it was then as I realized all this that I could indeed give you my greatest gift directly from my heart & soul to your heart & soul ... a reaffirmation that you not only did deserve the high praise and regard that others around us gave you based on the life and the way in which you had lived it so far (from my observation of you and the high respect that I had and continue to have for you even to this day & through all the seasons & years that I was able to share life with you in church community via ACF & PCC despite your sin & insecurities) but that even so, regardless of whether they thought of you in such a positive matter or not, regardless of the ways in which you may have failed, sinned, or hurt others, whether intentionally or unintentionally, that despite all that you are wonderfully loved ... precious, beloved daughter of our Most High & Almighty God and that there is indeed nothing that can separate you ever from God’s unfailing love for you, my sister (Romans 8). What a glorious affirmation of the Gospel made anew and afresh ... a most wonderful gift that I had wanted to give you all this time & was finally was able to give you that very afternoon from the very deepest fibers of my very being ... a reaffirmation & encouragement of your God-given identity through Christ as a beloved/cherished/well-loved daughter of our Most High and Almighty God and Heavenly Father despite your sin/shortcomings/failures ... the kind of act/behavior that is the very living embodiment of the truths/tenets of the Gospel, the kind of truth and reality that sets you free (John 8:31-32) and empowers you to become more the godly woman God has created you by His beautiful design to be, the kind of truth and reality that leads any human soul that believes in the Gospel and in Christ as Lord and Savior of his/her life (eventually after having reached a certain level of spiritual maturity/sanctification) to can’t help but just overflow with eternal ever-growing & deepening love, adoration, awe, wonder, praise, and worship to our great Almighty God for what He has done for us through Christ & Him crucified on the Cross, the kind of truth & reality that allows you to become more the woman that God has designed you to be ... one with a steadfast confidence and trust in the promises of God and His goodness and His ways, one that realizes the value of godly submission to the Lord, her parents (until married, then honor), and godly authorities placed over her life by God Himself not to rob her of her joy/happiness but done so for her ultimate joy, happiness, and good, one that uses her words to encourage others/set the bar high/build up both brothers to become more the godly men they were designed to be along with sisters to become more the godly women that they were designed to be, one that lives life each & every day in genuine & sincere ever-growing/deepening gratitude, thankfulness, and appreciation of God that results in an overflowing heart of utmost love/adoration/awe/wonder/worship/praise to Him, and so much more.

And so with that, we had finally reached our destination at the departure gate of the airport terminal ... where I would indeed say good-bye to you (a most fitting and appropriate ending for such a wonderful kindred friendship) for the last time as you walked into the terminal to board the flight that not only would take you to wherever you were planning to go but also out of my life for the very last time. 

Fall 2016

And so it was ... when the time of our shared birthday came once again that you sent me well-wishes ... at a rather unfortunate time in which I was coming out of a dark season of wretchedness that I was not in the right mindset to receive it as such. And yet at the same time, I knew after what I had witnessed only a little less than a year ago at your church in regards to you that I could not remain in your life to any degree, that as long as I did, I would not only be a potential stumbling block and idol to you in regards to your relationship with/worship of God and to the commitments you had already made (committed relationship with another brother), but that I could potentially serve to be your undoing were I to stay in your life to any degree. 

And so I did what only an immature brother would do ... by sharing too much of myself to a degree (expressing genuine love, adoration, awe, wonder, praise, and worship to our God) that would lead to your immediate exit and cutting me off completely (a calculated “mistake” explained below). Note that it was intentionally done this way because although I could have done so a much cleaner way and lead in righteousness much more readily by giving you no response whatsoever (but yet also a manner which could potentially be much more devastating to you personally), that in light of what had happened in the past in regards to you falling into the sins of idolatry of me & being enslaved for a time to what I thought of you and of comparison the last time I utterly cut you off suddenly, that I chose to craft a false veneer (although that was indeed not how I actually felt in reality) to not only be sensitive to how you had struggled against idolatry of me/sin of comparison prior but also ultimately to do so out of mercy in the hope that by doing so this way that you would not fall into your former sins once more; I would give you the opportunity to exit first and if by then, you had not gotten the message that our friendship could not continue in any degree at this time in light of your sins (idolatry/comparison), insecurities, and present committed relationship to said ACF brother in your year, then I was going to cut myself out regardless of whether my reputation with you remained intact or not. And so that is what happened and what I anticipated ... that I knew that you would be godly enough to do the right thing by exiting and cutting me off completely ... so that as I calculated that doing it this way it would also lead you to stay away from me for the time being. 

Though I am not in any way against the good desire that God has placed in you for a godly husband (if anything, it’s a good desire that God has put in you & other women as part of His good design, one that I am glad to affirm as a brother), it seems that I have clearly underestimated how strong/lasting your desire/affections for me were/are(?), which in light of the committed relationship that you are in (main reason), are clearly inappropriate and out of place. As such, I have to suspend our friendship for the time being ... and use this time to exhort you as a dear friend and as a fellow brother in Christ to please bury your affections/feelings/desire for me (anything beyond platonic) deep down within you, to exercise self-control with the help of the Holy Spirit (Gal 5:23), and to not let them don’t let them overcome/master you/enslave you once more (2 Pet 2:19). As you might imagine by me writing these words, I do indeed leave the door open for reconciliation, should there be any need to (though I’m not sure if there would be such a need to?) or opportunity(?) to do so, or reunion down the road, but I am also open to such a possibility that such may never happen or occur either. Regardless of how this plays out, I am indeed at peace with choosing to have mercy on you despite your sins, choosing to encourage/affirm you as a man of God in what you had done well & your God-given identity as a daughter of God (you already had this even before I ever chose to do this onto you/your heart & soul, but I chose and, by doing so, hope that you indeed do remember such a glorious truth/reality and fully embrace it, for that not only sets you free from any sins/idolatry/insecurities that you may have but also allows you to become more & more the godly woman God created you to be when you choose to live in light of that truth/reality in the life that you live), and ultimately, leaving you (may or may not be permanent, depending on whether you are able to exercise self-control & master your affections for me sufficiently, those that are beyond platonic) better than I found you when we first met & sat next to one another all those years ago on that dark winter night on the yellow bus en route to ACF Winter Retreat.

Sister #2, please know that I do not mean any ill will towards you whatsoever, but that in light of your insecurities around me, along with your past struggles against comparison (finding your identity in me/what I thought of you to some degree prior) & idolatry of me and how that has led to a tainting of your worship to God prior, I cannot justify my continued presence in your life to any degree for the time being because as long as I remain in your life to any tangible degree at this time, it could indeed potentially lead to your undoing and that is indeed something I will not be responsible for if I can take action on my part to prevent such from occurring. The only time I could ever justify my presence in your life to any tangible degree is if I am able to get some kind of reassurance that you are able to exercise sufficient self-control & master your affections for me sufficiently (that go beyond platonic) via the help of the Holy Spirit (I exhort you to pray about this) or the day you get married though I would certainly continue to hesitate, be wary of, and probably minimize any future contact with you beyond that unless I do see personally that you have attained sufficient self-control/mastery over your affections for me that go beyond platonic/desire for me) for good reason. Until then, may you confess & repent of your sin to God in prayer, do it quick & don’t delay, don’t let it fester and grow, and may you be cleansed, restored, and empowered by Him by His grace to do His will with a pure heart and a clean conscience once more.

If you want to despise or hate me or hold any ill will towards me for doing this, then I can understand such a reaction from you but that is indeed something that I would highly discourage you from doing and it would indeed make me sad (regardless of how you choose to see me, whether by ill will or not, I choose to love you regardless, however hard it may be, platonically as dear friend/brother in Christ and I am still willing to forgive you deep down [Luke 23:34]) ... because what I did I did not out of malicious intent but out of great love for you as a dear friend and as a beloved brother of Christ by leading in righteousness via the suspension of our friendship for the time being one way or another (I do leave the reversal of this course of action & restoration of such a friendship in the future a possibility though - refer to above for how that could be a possibility) ... so that you would remain faithful, obedient, devoted to the tasks and commitments you have right in front of you, that your worship of God would remain pure .... so that I would no longer be a potential idol and/or stumbling block for you, for I am indeed aware of the warning Jesus says to those that it would be better for the one who causes one of His little ones to sin to be tied down with a large millstone and thrown into the sea (Matthew 18:5-6/Luke 17:1-2/Mark 9:42). I also find that what I said in a previous post also applies here and I will repeat it here again with no regrets or apologies: 

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you understand and see that I, just like you, am merely a servant of God (Rev 19:9-10, Rev 22:8-9) just like you, along with our other fellow brothers and sisters in Christ? Why in the world would you do this? Don’t you realize how dearly loved you are by our good God regardless of what I or other people you look up to think about you and that your identity as one made in the image of God (Gen 1:26) and/or as a child (whether son or daughter of the Most High) of God can never be taken away by anyone else and ultimately testifies to how infinitely valuable and beloved you are to Him (Ps 8:3-5, Ps 139:13-18)? Don’t you realize how dishonoring this is to both me (not as concerned about such, but still worth noting) but more importantly to God and what a great sin this is not only against me but ultimately against our good God and Heavenly Father who alone is worthy of our utmost love, adoration, affection, worship, praise, and devotion? Confess and repent, I say to you again, repent! Draw near to the throne of grace (Heb 4:16), confess/repent of your sin, and may you find that we indeed serve a God who is merciful, faithful, and just to forgive us of our sins (1 John 1:9) and who desires not more sacrifices but indeed a broken and contrite heart (Ps 51:16-17)

If you do really want to know, the amount of godly respect that I have for you and the high regard that I hold of you as a godly woman even to this very day (I commend you for such) has never been about your looks, weight, race (i.e. I’ve known of and encountered people from mainland China who claim/tell me bad things about Taiwanese people [prob from tensions stemming from Taiwan’s and China’s differences & right to be independent from China, etc.], but I’ve always found a majority of such claims, upon further investigation, to be baseless/filled with unfounded hate and/or bitterness and utterly ridiculous), outward appearance, charm, flattering words, or anything purely external or aesthetic to any lasting degree. It has never been (and will never be) through any of these factors or characteristics that you have won my respect & trust thoroughly & my heart to a very small degree (but you have not won me over [romantically] due to the degree of your struggle against your idolatry of me/finding your identity to some extent in what I thought of you; it is the only reason why I am able, with the help of the Holy Spirit, to keep my affections/desires in regards to you in strict platonic check). Rather, I have always and will always look at your heart (similar to what is described in 1 Sam 16:7) as a much more reliable indicator of who you are as a person, what kind of character you have (godly or not godly), whether you value/cherish the matters & things that God values/cherishes and whether you hate/despise the matters & things that God hates/despises, whether you truly are of the faith by the life you live/the manner in which you live it and whether you give over/wring out your own life to the making of disciples, your speech, your behavior, your love, and your purity, for these things, although mocked by, belittled, and scorned by those of the unbelieving world around us who are blinded by human arrogance and pride and simply do not understand, indeed characterize the true essence and composition of who a human being truly is at the core of his/her very being - not the fallen body of this age (not the “tent”) that is indeed frail and will one day pass away completely but rather the soul that is encased within - the soul that, whether that of a believer or unbeliever, is forever eternal and will live forever, either under eternal salvation with God forever in His Kingdom along with His people or under eternal judgment/torment in the lake of burning sulfur & fire along with all the unbelievers, the unrighteous, the sexually immoral, the idolaters, the adulterers, the men who practice homosexuality, the thieves, the greedy, the drunkards, the revilers, and the swindlers (1 Cor 6:9-10). 

That being said, I am glad to have been proven utterly wrong about who I initially thought you were over the years that I got to observe and to know you better as a wonderful friend and as a fellow sister in Christ - your sincerity of heart/godly character/your genuine love for the Lord/His good ways and for people, a good understanding of the Word and its application to life that few sisters indeed do have to the degree that you have these days, the sincerity which you express with your words and follow up with in your deeds/actions/the way you live life in regards to wanting to continue to grow and to mature in your faith & in Christ, the wonderful help that you are in playing His part for you beautifully as a godly woman in helping me to carry out His design for me as a man of God in cultivating spiritual spaces where God/His Word/the Gospel & His faithfulness/goodness/truth/beauty can be seen/heard/proclaimed/celebrated in word/deed/truth, the ways in which you’ve gone out of your way & continue to do so for those around you even when not asked/expected to do so, the ways in which you selflessly sacrifice and wring out your life for the glory of God & for the good of those around you in the making of disciples, the spiritual gift/skill that God has blessed you with in regards to the gift of encouragement when you use your words (always well-placed) to come alongside and to build up others around you with them in love & in truth ... you are indeed a worthy godly example for our fellow sisters in Christ to imitate and to learn from and I do not find it surprising to any degree why so many of our fellow sisters in Christ seem to seek you out personally (did you ever wonder why that was & even to this day, continues to be the case to this day?) because they, too, see these characteristics/qualities in you that not only are present but also overflowing from the very deepest caverns of who you are (!!). 

As a final word to you, may you indeed know that regardless of how you may think of me that I am indeed sincerely and genuinely rooting for you & cheering you and that brother that you are in a committed relationship with both on ever so fervently, enthusiastically, and joyfully in the hope that it may indeed work out between the two of you and that indeed it may be consummated in the beautiful, wonderful, and glorious joy and covenant relationship of marriage. As for what I think of that brother, I think that he is sufficiently godly enough to rise to the enormous joy and responsibility of being a husband and a father, one who is indeed committed to your well-being and your good (how rare indeed these days), indeed the only brother from your CMU graduating class that I have any degree of godly respect for (if that’s not saying something, then I don’t know what does). Although it has been made abundantly clear to me via my last conversations with you that he may be lacking in some fundamental aspects you would probably like to see more fully manifested in him (i.e. gift of encouragement, leading more fully in biblical love and intimacy), pray for him if you sincerely do love, care, and cherish him as your boyfriend by faith to the God who is able to do what is impossible by man (Luke 18:27), to the God who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think (Eph 3:20-21) ... that our God would grow Him all the more in these areas so that your boyfriend can indeed learn to grow in these areas and become more the man of God that God has designed him to be from the very beginning more today than yesterday, more tomorrow than today and encourage him in these ways with your words (a man who leads in love, the Word, righteousness, selflessness, and intimacy - Eph 5), for it will not only be a blessing for him but also that it would be a blessing onto you and to any children that you may parent along with him one day should your relationship with him truly work out and consummate in marriage.

Go, my dear friend and fellow sister in Christ, love God & people well (my last words to you from our last correspondence), continue in the good example & things that you have learned and been taught by God and by those older than you in life, and may you continue not only to grow & to mature in your faith and in Christ along with growing in ever-deepening & ever-abounding love/adoration/awe/wonder/praise/worship to our God but also to proclaim the Gospel in word, deed, and by the life you live/the way you live it onto all that you encounter & cross paths with to the ends of the earth onto undying end through the Spirit and the grace & strength that He supplies, for you, just like me, have indeed been sent into the dark and unbelieving world around us as witnesses and ambassadors for Christ and know that wherever you are, no matter what season of life, no matter how dark or depressing or how seemingly hopeless things may be at times and at various seasons in your life, that there is always hope even in the midst of greatest darkness, for we indeed serve a God who is never far but who is indeed ever so near and that indeed dearly cares for us (1 Pet 5:7), and that even now as I write these words, the darkness around us is not only momentary but is indeed retreating, fleeing, and giving way to the light of everlasting day as more people believe in the Gospel day after day, as more lost sheep are being found and added to the flock, and as there is indeed a Day coming when glorious victory, light, and truth will be fully consummated at Jesus’ coming and will give way to an everlasting Kingdom that will never be shaken, one untouched by sin, death, pain, suffering, sorrow, and tears forevermore. Live in light of that beautiful truth and reality, my dear friend, sister in Christ, and beloved daughter of God and if I don’t see you in the near future, I believe by faith that I will indeed see you at the end. 

Emmanuel (God is With Us), Jack

[jeanboehm]

Ways to Commemorate During Quarantine

There have been many celebrations and many sorrows during our time in quarantine.

Most recently, we lost our sweet pup Polly to a 2 year battle with cancer. Polly was 11.5 years old and if you follow us closely on Instagram you know that she put up a wonderful fight. I’ve been meaning to write a post about Polly. To be honest, I’m still at a loss and we are still grieving. While Grant and I are sadly familiar with this type of loss, I’m still not ready to write about it quite yet.

What I’d like to do instead of writing a long post about Polly and how much she meant to us, because that’s kind of a downer during an already sad time for everyone, is share a blog post about ways we can honor loved ones.

Whether it’s a birthday celebration or the loss of a furry friends, it’s more important now than ever before that we honor the important people in our lives. It can sometimes feel very challenging to hold some sort of service or throw a big birthday party {it’s flat out unrealistic for many of us}, but there are still a few ways to work around the system and make things feel special.

Hold Ceremony

The other day I was thinking about how we coped with the loss of William (Polly’s brother) many, many years ago. The most helpful thing Grant and I did when we lost William was to hold a ceremony in his honor. I think one of the harder aspects of losing a pet is that it almost seems silly to most people to have a funeral of sorts. Grant and I said a few nice words about William and then decided to both get “W” tattoos in his honor. It truly made us both feel so much better knowing we had celebrated his honor in this way.

Whether it’s planting a tree, visiting a beach to say a few words or even having a nice family dinner to walk down memory lane – holding some sort of ceremony really does the heart wonders. Because we aren’t able to get Polly tattoos quite yet {because of quarantine}, I’ve been wearing my Monica Rich Kosann locket. I received this locket as a gift after June was born and it has a picture of my two girls inside.

Throw a Party

Okay so you can’t have dozens of people over… but maybe you can have one or two friends over and keep a safe distance. What we did for Grant’s 40th birthday was spread out visitors over the course of one week. A few friends came on a Saturday and then a few different friends on a Monday. Honestly it was kind of like a nice week-long of celebrating and actually getting to connect with friends on a deeper level.

Make it Special

It’s very easy for all of us to say “it won’t count” and bury our heads in the quarantine sand.

Now is the time, more than ever, that we should be celebrating life!

Try your best to make the best of any birthday or special occasion. In fact, birthdays and anniversaries should feel extra extra special! For Grant’s 40th I emailed forty of his closest friends and family members to request 2-3 sentences of “why we love Grant.” I printed them all out and {funny enough} taped them up in the bathroom on the morning of his birthday. It started his day off on the right foot – with lots of laughter and warmth in his heart.

Home-Made Everything

I’ve taken a deep dive back into my arts and crafts side during quarantine and I’m secretly loving it. Hand-made cards, pictures that June scribbled and printing out photos for albums have been truly meaningful during this dark time. I’ve resorted back to snail mail for relatives too. The most meaningful gift I received over the past 4 months was a scribbly picture that June drew {with help from dad} for me for Mother’s Day.

Make it Tangible

So much of our lives are digital. When William passed away, I made an entire photo album on Artifact Uprising. I also did one for Polly most recently and it feels really nice when you get it in the mail. It’s almost like having this incredibly meaningful piece of them right there in your home with you. I have the Artifact Uprising app on my phone which makes it super easy to upload photos. I’ve also used their service to print out photos of June which I mail to my Meme in Texas.

Have you held a birthday during quarantine? What did you do to make it special? How have you coped with the loss of someone special and what are you doing to honor their name?

Ways to Commemorate During Quarantine published first on https://lenacharms.weebly.com/

[walkingthroughthepages]

I know Christmas is all about the jolly and the merry, but, you know… Sometimes, it’s not that simple. And sometimes, an author gets that feeling of loss and Christmas just right. As they do here – three times over.

I was offered these ARCs by Netgalley in exchange for a review. All opinions are strictly my own.

A Miracle on Hope Street, Emma Heatherington

Story

Can a single act of kindness change a life forever? To many people Ruth Ryans has everything: the perfect job, a home to die for and a loving family. But it’s all lies. As Christmas approaches, Ruth feels lonelier than ever. Then Ruth meets Michael. A man who, on the night of her father’s death the year before, she showed kindness to during his darkest moment. That one single act, his miracle, helped change his life forever. Can one act of kindness really change a person’s life? Ruth decides to find out and plans to make this Christmas the most perfect one ever, opening up her home to those who need her help – the lonely, the lost and the ignored. This Christmas actions will speak louder than words and Ruth Ryans’ kindness will create little miracles for everyone … including her own battered heart.

Opinion

While this book has a happy ending, it is not a happy book. I wrote about this last year as well, but for many people, Christmas is one of the hardest periods there is. The idea that everybody should be happy, when so many people have it so hard? It can be hurtful to anyone who isn’t lucky enough to be able to fully “celebrate Christmas”. For Ruth Ryans, that is exactly the case. Her sister is across the country, her father died almost exactly a year ago and her mother? Well, she walked out on them years earlier – just when, as Ruth put it, “she needed her most”. Faced with feeling even more alone now, as she is struggling with the grieve of her father’s death, Ruth just about breaks down. She has an advice column, but how is she supposed to help others when she’s feeling so utterly lost herself? And then – she decides to do just that. Rather than just give people words of wisdom, of help and of comfort, she’s going to take action. Throughout the story, we’re shown fragments of 6 people’s lives as they decide to write in for Ruth’s advice column. The way Emma Heatherington set up the story so that we get to see exactly what brings these people to write to Ruth gave it a layer of depth that, honestly, I wasn’t expecting from “just a Christmas book”. It’s been a while since I read a book that set out to be emotional. And, I was actually taken aback by how well that was done. The author manages to unveil the different layers both of Ruth’s and “the man whose life she changed” stories. The six people Ruth decides to help are all, in their own way, so incredibly deserving. And at the same time, they – along with that same man – give Ruth the framework she needs to deal with the biggest reason for her loneliness this season: her mother’s absence. The build-up of that final reveal is executed so masterfully that – even if you do figure out the last “plot twist” before it’s actually narrated (and you might, it is somewhat obvious) – it honestly left me in tears. A Miracle on Hope Street takes place during the 8 days before Christmas and on Christmas day itself, with a prologue one year earlier and an epilogue one year later. Honestly, I would’ve been fine with 6 more epilogues. Emma Heatherington so skilfully sets up this unnamed town in Ireland, the family situation and all of the invitees (heartbreaking and hope giving all at once!) that I would’ve been happy to stay in her world a good while longer.

Rating: 4.75/5 (Goodreads)

Cupcakes for Christmas, Kate Hewitt

Story

Always the baker, never the bride… Olivia James has always been happy running a tea shop and bakery in the Cotswold village of Wychwood-on-Lea. She’s helping her friends find their happily-ever-afters, topped by the perfect wedding cake. But as Christmas approaches, Olivia is home alone and questioning her choices while eating too many of her own specialty confections. When Simon Blacklock, a handsome, whimsical stranger, breezes into her shop and buys a cupcake and then returns the next day and the day after, Olivia begins to dream. Can romance blossom amidst the sugar and flour? And after a lifetime of living on the side lines, is she brave enough to star in her own story? Simon may be hiding a painful secret, but Olivia harbours secrets of her own. If they can dare to risk their hearts, this Christmas might be the most magical yet!

Opinion

Kate Hewitt has this way with emotions that means you can always count on her to get them just right. I already knew she did that beautifully in her series on The Holley Sisters of Thornthwaite but, as I’ve now discovered, it’s a universal thing for her books, apparently. I have to admit that it took me a while – longer than with her other books – to get into the story of this one. There were these little things that just didn’t strike me as “quite right”. From the relationship between Olivia and her mother, to the way Simon was acting at times… It just made me a little… Uneasy? That’s probably the best word I can find to describe it, right now. Of course, because, you know: this is Kate Hewitt, it turns out I was *right* in feeling a little uneasy. Right, and, on to the plot. Kind of. Whereas I could see from pretty early on what general direction Olivia’s mother was moving in, Simon kind of caught me unaware. And he certainly got me *in the feelings*. The author certainly takes her time to set up the atmosphere and the characters of this holiday read, but seeing Olivia slowly unwind from her spinsterhood, as well as the development of her relationship both with her mother and with Simon? It made for just about the perfect cosy holiday read. Best accompanied by cupcakes – of course!

Rating: 3.25/5 (Goodreads)

The Christmas Wish

Story

Christmas is coming but it doesn’t feel that way for Esme Greenwood. Recently jilted by her cheating fiancee Warren, she’s had enough of London life and escapes to Thimble Cottage in the Peak District, home of her beloved grandmother Matilda. While Esme mourns for the wedding she’ll never have, Matilda puts her granddaughter back together again with comforting words and generous helpings of fruitcake and together, they plan the trip of a lifetime, to Lapland to see the northern lights, somewhere Matilda has always dreamt of going. But tragedy strikes and when Matilda dies, Esme screws up the courage to go on the trip on her own to honour her beloved grandmother’s wishes. At the airport she meets a motley crew of characters including Zach, a handsome, brooding, out-of- work actor and together they set off for an adventure. Beneath the indigo skies of Lapland, Esme and Zach grow closer. But when Esme is bombarded by messages from Warren promising he’s changed and she discovers that Zach is hiding something very significant – will her head be turned? And when a trip to the northern lights reveals the full extent of Zach’s own secret past, is there any hope that Esme will get the happy ending that her grandmother wished for her?

Opinion

There’s something incredibly sad about someone coming to the realisation that their relationship isn’t what they thought it was. There’s something equally (more?) sad about someone realising the way they are being treated isn’t okay. No matter how much they might try and defend that other person’s behaviour. Throughout this story, Tilly Tennant does an incredible job of not only revealing the truth of Esme’s situation, she also manages to allow her character to get beat down again and again. It’s not necessarily fun to read, but it did make for a very compelling read. What made this even better? Well, the story just takes place in freaking Santa-country. I mean, they go visit the real Santa in his actual town with his actual elves and surrounded by actual snow. I know I mentioned this for “The Summer Getaway” as well, but the author has a way of really making a location come through life through her words. So if you’re in need of something to make you feel more Christmassy than you have in a long while? And you’re more than willing to take some sadness and tears with that deal? Then this is your book!

Rating: 4/5 (Goodreads)

Honestly, I feel like I need to warn you that reading these may definitely end in some tears. On your part that is. I can guarantee you there’s tears in the books. So, you know, keep your tissues ready. And be sure to check out the rest of my Christmas– and this year’s blogmas-posts!

-Saar

Mini Reviews #7: Loss and Christmas I know Christmas is all about the jolly and the merry, but, you know... Sometimes, it's not that simple…

[cynthiajayusa]

Community Celebrates Pompano Bill

Pompano Bill

1926 – 2018

Like so many other, I was deeply affected when I heard that Pompano Bill had passed away.  At first, I went into a deep silence and just wanted to be alone to collect my thoughts. A sense of calm overcame me as I thought that Bill had just ended a spectacular journey we call life on earth.  Bill and I often talked about our community, politics and of course, gossip. One thing is certain, I came to trust him like a father. In our last conversation he shared with me the fact that he decided not to undergo Chemotherapy while in the hospital.  I refused to consider that he was telling me his time had come. Denial, as you know, is one of the first phases of dealing with grief. Ironically, as I checked my last email to him regarding Hotspots business, the subject line was “time to relax.” God knows, I did not want him to take it literally by going to his eternal resting place.  

William Calcaterra, aka Pompano Bill, was born on January 12th, 1926 in Norway, Michigan.  He had a normal childhood, however, as he matured, he realized that he was different.  Back then the word gay wasn’t used, instead the word was “queer.”  Growing up in such a small town of 3,728 people, he kept his difference suppressed.

He graduated high school in June of 1944 and was immediately inducted into the Navy, attended Radio Operator School in Madison, Wisconsin and was assigned to a ship in the Pacific Theatre.  World War II ended and he returned to the U.S. 

While still on active duty and stationed in San Francisco he stumbled into a bar on Market Street, not realizing it was a bar frequented by homosexuals, and was invited out for cocktails at the Saint Francis Hotel and treated to a weekend of fun and luxury. He saw that gentleman again during the week. Although he said the experience was amazing, shortly afterwards he got his discharge papers and returned home, where he again went into suppressing his desires.   A year later, with the GI Bill, he went to Ferris State College and then moved to Detroit and completed his education at the Detroit Institute of Technology.  It was in Detroit that he really discovered gay life. 

While in Detroit he had his first relationship, which ended due to his partner being drafted for the Korean War.  After graduating from college, he joined IBM (which Bill says stands for I’ve been moved) in 1951, where he stayed until retirement 36 years later in 1987. During his employment at IBM he made his way up to middle management and was transferred to many places throughout the country.

Eventually, Bill had the good sense to move to the Florida.  After a few years he became bored and bought a camera.  In 1992 he started his second career as a photographer and was published as Pompano Bill in Scoop Magazine. Since then he has worked for Outlook, Buzz, 411, Express, The Blade and, for the last dozen years or so he was very happy shooting exclusively for Hotspots Magazine. Over the years he has accumulated tens of thousands of pictures, which have become his life, he says they are like his friends. He had all his old photos organized in shoe boxes and digital images were stored on 2 computers.  He often wondered what the stories were behind some of the people he captured on film when he looked back at them.  As many of you know, Pompano Bill had a huge heart and donated much of his time to charities including Poverello, Tuesdays Angels, Broward House, The Pride Center and so many others. 

Scott Holland once asked Pompano Bill:  What are the benefits of living longer?

Bill replied: “You can teach an old dog new tricks, outliving a few assholes, the ability to meet and enjoy younger people…especially those that like to hear about gay history that I experienced.” 

A CELEBRATION OF LIFE

Many have asked if funeral or memorial services will be taking place.  One of Bill’s closest friends, Toni Barone, reminded me that he did not want anything special or grandiose after his passing.   It is our understanding that a few family members will be arriving to discuss plans and we will announce the outcome of their decision the moment it happens.  One thing is certain, if a celebration of life takes place, it will be one to remember!

Now, I find myself trying to fill yet, another hole in my heart…

A special thanks goes to Scott Holland for contributing the biographical content of this article

From a Grateful Community

Last week, our community lost an icon and friend.  Bill touch many lives over the decades as he served our community, not only as a photographer but as a mentor and friend to many.  With so many condolences still pouring in, we thought the best way to communicate our feelings just was to capture a few comments that capture the essence of a man who was loved and admired by so many:  

Brad Casey: Dear Friend

It has been a day of reflection on my 27 year of friendship and association with Bill Calcaterra, Pompano Bill. It’s been a difficult day but I am at peace with his passing. Both Pompano and I knew his day of crossing the Rainbow were near. He was tired of fighting Cancer and loosing his eyesight. He now can see clearly and can rest. Thank You Pompano Bill for an amazing 27 years.

Richard Gray:  Greater Fort Lauderdale CVB

He was an amazing man with an incredible zest for life.

Michael Goodman:  Public Relations

He was so much a part of our community. I have very fond memories of him. He left his mark.

Billy Sand: Friend

R I P. Will always love him

Stephen R. Lang: Co-worker and dear friend

I don’t know what exactly to say and I have loved this man since the second time I met him. [The first time he did his groping thing.] We have had a wild ride standing next to   and he ALWAYS looked out for me and making sure I was getting my shots and doing my job. I remember one of his BIGGEST warning about nightclubs was the smoke and how he got some sort of Cancer from it. He was a Trooper and loved my many–including myself. Una famiglia italiana e un dono di Dio.

Michael Albetta: Broward Sherriff Community Liaison

Memories captured from my dear good friend who now rests in Heaven, William “Bill” Calcaterra aka POMPANO BILL.. Our beloved LGBT community will miss him more than we think. Let’s honor one last request from Pompano Bill: GET OUT TO VOTE AND VOTE DEMOCRATIC!

Jose Javier: Friend

I think every gay man in South Florida has a picture taken by him. I never got a chance to have a long conversation with him, but the short chat after he had taken a picture where always nice. Will be missed. Rest in peace Pompano Bill Calcaterra.

Mike Trottier:  Co-worker and dear friend

Pompano Bill…You can rest now my friend. Miss you already Peanut Butter!

Row lliescu:  Equality Florida

Don’t be sad! Of course, we will miss you, Pompano Bill—but what a life you lived–an example to all of us to seize the day and make the most of every situation–or so it seemed. Indeed, the place won’t be the same without you, but it’s immeasurably better because of you. I look forward to celebrating your life with the throngs who adored you.

Steven Walker: Friend

I was in two of his photos in Hotspots Magazine. One all dressed up at The Opera Broward Center, the other less put together in the pool at Inn Leather-tee hee!

Ken Evans:  Our Fund

Sad to learn of the passing of Pompano Bill. A wonderful friend to so many of us in the LGBTQ community. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bill without a smile or his camera ready to take that perfect shot. He will be greatly missed by our community. Thank you for all the memories Pompano…Rest In Peace good friend.

Howard Andrew: Talent Scout

I found myself driving to Pompanos Bills house today, and sitting in the car outside of his home. Shaking my head for not stopping by earlier, and for always saying I’ll stop by tomorrow I’ll stop by tomorrow I’ll stop by tomorrow. We’ll, tomorrow has come and Bill has gone. Don’t wait to see friends and loved ones…. Don’t miss the chance to tell someone you love them. Life is short….. Rip Bill

Robin Bodiford:  Attorney

I loved Pompano Bill. He had such a wonderful vibe and over the years such a big part of our community and also chronicled our community.

Kevin Clevenger, Poverello

Rest in peace Pompano Bill

Kenneth Flood: The Pub

So sad to hear of the passing of Pompano Bill Calcaterra. I have known this man pretty much since day one when I first moved to Fort Lauderdale. He was such a kind wonderful man. He always greeted me with a Hug & a Kiss(or three,LOL). I am saddened by the loss of this man, a treasure, R.I.P. my friend.

Daniel Curtis:  Friend

I’m celebrating the life of my friend Mr Pompano Bill Calcaterra.

The Snapchat & Instagram of his time from the Golden Cost to the Golf Cost South Florida has been best pictured by you!

I’ll lend you my ear anytime! Thank you for for your gifts the smiles & magic in our memories! You’re having a great time in the afterlife this I’m sure! Salute and cheers my friend…

Jim Libonati:  Friend and former Hotspots Executive

I miss him very much; like others we had a great history as friends, and he was once my neighbor back in the late 80’s… RIP My dear Friend!

Gary Resnick: Mayor, Wilton Manors

“Our community has lost an Icon and a loving man who gave so much to so many”

Toni Barone: Close Friend, Community Leader

“How do you say goodbye to such an Icon?  Our community will come together and heal but right now, we are still coming to terms with our loss.  

Steve and Zak:  Owners of Ramrod

We grieve the sudden loss of a long-time community member and dear friend

Michael Murphy:  Photographer

I’m not sure how to express my love for Pompano, my own shortened nickname, in a paragraph. Over 25 years of sharing great images with one another, playfully bumping each other while shooting, comparing butts and bulges and yes telling secrets. I’m grateful that he had the best life, surrounded by so many people that loved him and that he loved even more. Many of us forget that when he was young and gay, he couldn’t be out.

So, his last 25 years, the 25 I got to enjoy alongside of him, truly were his Golden Years and he lived every minute to the fullest!  I love you Pompano!

Watch for next week’s edition of Hotspots for a special photographic retrospective of Pompano Bill’s life and legacy.

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/10/25/community-celebrates-pompano-bill/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2018/10/community-celebrates-pompano-bill.html

[hotspotsmagazine]

Community Celebrates Pompano Bill

Pompano Bill

1926 – 2018

Like so many other, I was deeply affected when I heard that Pompano Bill had passed away.  At first, I went into a deep silence and just wanted to be alone to collect my thoughts. A sense of calm overcame me as I thought that Bill had just ended a spectacular journey we call life on earth.  Bill and I often talked about our community, politics and of course, gossip. One thing is certain, I came to trust him like a father. In our last conversation he shared with me the fact that he decided not to undergo Chemotherapy while in the hospital.  I refused to consider that he was telling me his time had come. Denial, as you know, is one of the first phases of dealing with grief. Ironically, as I checked my last email to him regarding Hotspots business, the subject line was “time to relax.” God knows, I did not want him to take it literally by going to his eternal resting place.  

William Calcaterra, aka Pompano Bill, was born on January 12th, 1926 in Norway, Michigan.  He had a normal childhood, however, as he matured, he realized that he was different.  Back then the word gay wasn’t used, instead the word was “queer.”  Growing up in such a small town of 3,728 people, he kept his difference suppressed.

He graduated high school in June of 1944 and was immediately inducted into the Navy, attended Radio Operator School in Madison, Wisconsin and was assigned to a ship in the Pacific Theatre.  World War II ended and he returned to the U.S. 

While still on active duty and stationed in San Francisco he stumbled into a bar on Market Street, not realizing it was a bar frequented by homosexuals, and was invited out for cocktails at the Saint Francis Hotel and treated to a weekend of fun and luxury. He saw that gentleman again during the week. Although he said the experience was amazing, shortly afterwards he got his discharge papers and returned home, where he again went into suppressing his desires.   A year later, with the GI Bill, he went to Ferris State College and then moved to Detroit and completed his education at the Detroit Institute of Technology.  It was in Detroit that he really discovered gay life. 

While in Detroit he had his first relationship, which ended due to his partner being drafted for the Korean War.  After graduating from college, he joined IBM (which Bill says stands for I’ve been moved) in 1951, where he stayed until retirement 36 years later in 1987. During his employment at IBM he made his way up to middle management and was transferred to many places throughout the country.

Eventually, Bill had the good sense to move to the Florida.  After a few years he became bored and bought a camera.  In 1992 he started his second career as a photographer and was published as Pompano Bill in Scoop Magazine. Since then he has worked for Outlook, Buzz, 411, Express, The Blade and, for the last dozen years or so he was very happy shooting exclusively for Hotspots Magazine. Over the years he has accumulated tens of thousands of pictures, which have become his life, he says they are like his friends. He had all his old photos organized in shoe boxes and digital images were stored on 2 computers.  He often wondered what the stories were behind some of the people he captured on film when he looked back at them.  As many of you know, Pompano Bill had a huge heart and donated much of his time to charities including Poverello, Tuesdays Angels, Broward House, The Pride Center and so many others. 

Scott Holland once asked Pompano Bill:  What are the benefits of living longer?

Bill replied: “You can teach an old dog new tricks, outliving a few assholes, the ability to meet and enjoy younger people…especially those that like to hear about gay history that I experienced.” 

A CELEBRATION OF LIFE

Many have asked if funeral or memorial services will be taking place.  One of Bill’s closest friends, Toni Barone, reminded me that he did not want anything special or grandiose after his passing.   It is our understanding that a few family members will be arriving to discuss plans and we will announce the outcome of their decision the moment it happens.  One thing is certain, if a celebration of life takes place, it will be one to remember!

Now, I find myself trying to fill yet, another hole in my heart…

A special thanks goes to Scott Holland for contributing the biographical content of this article

From a Grateful Community

Last week, our community lost an icon and friend.  Bill touch many lives over the decades as he served our community, not only as a photographer but as a mentor and friend to many.  With so many condolences still pouring in, we thought the best way to communicate our feelings just was to capture a few comments that capture the essence of a man who was loved and admired by so many:  

Brad Casey: Dear Friend

It has been a day of reflection on my 27 year of friendship and association with Bill Calcaterra, Pompano Bill. It’s been a difficult day but I am at peace with his passing. Both Pompano and I knew his day of crossing the Rainbow were near. He was tired of fighting Cancer and loosing his eyesight. He now can see clearly and can rest. Thank You Pompano Bill for an amazing 27 years.

Richard Gray:  Greater Fort Lauderdale CVB

He was an amazing man with an incredible zest for life.

Michael Goodman:  Public Relations

He was so much a part of our community. I have very fond memories of him. He left his mark.

Billy Sand: Friend

R I P. Will always love him

Stephen R. Lang: Co-worker and dear friend

I don’t know what exactly to say and I have loved this man since the second time I met him. [The first time he did his groping thing.] We have had a wild ride standing next to   and he ALWAYS looked out for me and making sure I was getting my shots and doing my job. I remember one of his BIGGEST warning about nightclubs was the smoke and how he got some sort of Cancer from it. He was a Trooper and loved my many–including myself. Una famiglia italiana e un dono di Dio.

Michael Albetta: Broward Sherriff Community Liaison

Memories captured from my dear good friend who now rests in Heaven, William “Bill” Calcaterra aka POMPANO BILL.. Our beloved LGBT community will miss him more than we think. Let’s honor one last request from Pompano Bill: GET OUT TO VOTE AND VOTE DEMOCRATIC!

Jose Javier: Friend

I think every gay man in South Florida has a picture taken by him. I never got a chance to have a long conversation with him, but the short chat after he had taken a picture where always nice. Will be missed. Rest in peace Pompano Bill Calcaterra.

Mike Trottier:  Co-worker and dear friend

Pompano Bill…You can rest now my friend. Miss you already Peanut Butter!

Row lliescu:  Equality Florida

Don’t be sad! Of course, we will miss you, Pompano Bill—but what a life you lived–an example to all of us to seize the day and make the most of every situation–or so it seemed. Indeed, the place won’t be the same without you, but it’s immeasurably better because of you. I look forward to celebrating your life with the throngs who adored you.

Steven Walker: Friend

I was in two of his photos in Hotspots Magazine. One all dressed up at The Opera Broward Center, the other less put together in the pool at Inn Leather-tee hee!

Ken Evans:  Our Fund

Sad to learn of the passing of Pompano Bill. A wonderful friend to so many of us in the LGBTQ community. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bill without a smile or his camera ready to take that perfect shot. He will be greatly missed by our community. Thank you for all the memories Pompano…Rest In Peace good friend.

Howard Andrew: Talent Scout

I found myself driving to Pompanos Bills house today, and sitting in the car outside of his home. Shaking my head for not stopping by earlier, and for always saying I’ll stop by tomorrow I’ll stop by tomorrow I’ll stop by tomorrow. We’ll, tomorrow has come and Bill has gone. Don’t wait to see friends and loved ones…. Don’t miss the chance to tell someone you love them. Life is short….. Rip Bill

Robin Bodiford:  Attorney

I loved Pompano Bill. He had such a wonderful vibe and over the years such a big part of our community and also chronicled our community.

Kevin Clevenger, Poverello

Rest in peace Pompano Bill

Kenneth Flood: The Pub

So sad to hear of the passing of Pompano Bill Calcaterra. I have known this man pretty much since day one when I first moved to Fort Lauderdale. He was such a kind wonderful man. He always greeted me with a Hug & a Kiss(or three,LOL). I am saddened by the loss of this man, a treasure, R.I.P. my friend.

Daniel Curtis:  Friend

I’m celebrating the life of my friend Mr Pompano Bill Calcaterra.

The Snapchat & Instagram of his time from the Golden Cost to the Golf Cost South Florida has been best pictured by you!

I’ll lend you my ear anytime! Thank you for for your gifts the smiles & magic in our memories! You’re having a great time in the afterlife this I’m sure! Salute and cheers my friend…

Jim Libonati:  Friend and former Hotspots Executive

I miss him very much; like others we had a great history as friends, and he was once my neighbor back in the late 80’s… RIP My dear Friend!

Gary Resnick: Mayor, Wilton Manors

“Our community has lost an Icon and a loving man who gave so much to so many”

Toni Barone: Close Friend, Community Leader

“How do you say goodbye to such an Icon?  Our community will come together and heal but right now, we are still coming to terms with our loss.  

Steve and Zak:  Owners of Ramrod

We grieve the sudden loss of a long-time community member and dear friend

Michael Murphy:  Photographer

I’m not sure how to express my love for Pompano, my own shortened nickname, in a paragraph. Over 25 years of sharing great images with one another, playfully bumping each other while shooting, comparing butts and bulges and yes telling secrets. I’m grateful that he had the best life, surrounded by so many people that loved him and that he loved even more. Many of us forget that when he was young and gay, he couldn’t be out.

So, his last 25 years, the 25 I got to enjoy alongside of him, truly were his Golden Years and he lived every minute to the fullest!  I love you Pompano!

Watch for next week’s edition of Hotspots for a special photographic retrospective of Pompano Bill’s life and legacy.

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/10/25/community-celebrates-pompano-bill/

[thebandcampdiaries]

Stromfire - “Tomorrow’s Been Yesterday / Swampflower Queen (Double Single)

An emotional musical tribute with a strong passion for retro melodies and textures.

Stromfire is a music project with a fondness for lush, atmospheric and sonically detailed music landscapes. The sound of his work echoes the tone and feel of the 80s. You can expect melted synth pads, gigantic reverb tones and really big melodies that won’t get out of your head so easily. In addition to incorporating beautiful synths and electronic elements into his blend of sound, Stromfire is also about embracing the energy of the period’s rock music, tipping the hat off to artists as diverse as Billy Idol and Frankie Goes To Hollywood, only to mention but a few.

Recently, the project set out to release a brand new, exciting double single. The project features two new tracks, including “Tomorrow's Been Yesterday” as well as “Swampflower Queen”

These two tracks arguably come from a very personal place: the artist wrote them as a heartfelt tribute and education to his late sister, who tragically passed away back in 2016 at a young age.

These tracks are emotional and introspective, yet very easy to relate to for listeners from all walks of life. After all, we all know what it is like to love, lose someone and grieving over the fact that sometimes, life is just unpredictable. There is a really powerful, bittersweet twist to these new singles, because on one hand, they really reflect on the pain and longing that one must experience in this situations. On the other hand, however, the track is laced with nostalgia, and there is a sense of positivity when remembering the good things and actually celebrating the life of a dearly departed, rather than simply feeling sorrow for the loss. Much like this complex emotional dualism that we all experience as human losing someone we love, these tracks are very deep and multi-layered, showcasing the artist’s hugely diverse creative approach and emotional twist.

Tomorrow’s been yesterday is a stunning, lush and moody song that has a sad, slow vibe. In spite of the gloomy energy, the song hides positivity within, with a strong awareness of being protected, and watched from above. This particular track, in my opinion, stands out as one of the most powerful moments of this double single, and it really exemplifies what I was talking about before: there is a place for sadness and grief, but there is also a place for hope and positivity.

On the flip side of this double single, we can find “Swampflower Queen.” This song is a heartfelt homage to the artist’s sister’s beautiful vitality and thirst for adventure through life. The song has a nice, upbeat vibe, tipping the hat off to the best 80s rock, with a uniquely modern twist.

The quality of these mixes is absolutely outstanding, with a driven, direct and forward-thinking feel that really adds a spark to these recordings. In addition to the impeccable instrumental excellence of this release, it is also important to mention the quality of the lyrics, which are of course vital to this particular double single.

I love all the lyrics on this release, but what I found to be the most touching, powerful line is definitely an excerpt from the first song in this release, “Tomorrow’s Been Yesterday.” It reads like this:

“You saw it coming, were not afraid to go, left all the secrets, that no one else would know. “

The above is a perfect example of the very personable and unapologetic emotional honesty in this release. The second song on this project, “Swampflower Queen,” has lyrics that serve as a glowing tribute to a very special person who left us too soon:

“You conquered all when they laid their eyes on you

Shining so bright like a shooting star, that's what you still do “

Like most of the best works of art transcending all media (music, painting, theatre…) this project comes from a place of darkness and sadness. However, it is always incredibly inspiring and amazing to see that Stromfire was able to use his music - his art, as a way to not only remember his sister and help with the grieving process, but also to recall all the positive quality of his sister and celebrate the time she spent on this heart, and all the positive impact she made in the lives of those who had been fortunate enough to know her.

Find out more about Stromfire, and do not miss out on this exciting double single, as well as other releases from this talented artist:

https://stromfire.bandcamp.com/album/tomorrows-been-yesterday-swampflower-queen-double-single

We also had a chance to catch up with the artist: check out the full interview below!

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most?

Answer:

Most of the time it starts with a tiny idea. That can be a beat, a chord-progression, a melody - anything. I try to capture that and work it into a raw structure. After that, I simultaneously write the lyrics (which usually is the most time-consuming part for me) and adjust the flow and the mood of the song accordingly, so that it all comes together in the end and tells a story.

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio?

Answer:

Not yet. But I hope to bring the songs to the stage sooner or later. I love both - to be on stage, improvising and interacting with the audience. And to see and feel what reactions your music can provoke - that’s invaluable. But I also enjoy being alone in my studio, coming up with ideas, trying things out, working on minuscule details - for hours on end. Give me a cold drink and lock me in.

If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why?

Answer:

I think each song on this double-single stands on its own and has its individual merits. That’s the reason I called it a double single and not a single with an A and a B side. But still, I had to choose which song would be first and which one second - that was hard. Some people will prefer one over the other. I think both represent the spectrum of STROMFIRE pretty well.

What does it take to be “innovative” in music?

Answer:

That’s a tough one. I can’t even say if I have the aspiration to be innovative. I always considered myself as a conglomeration of all the music styles and artists that influenced me over the last decades. And when I’m looking back on all the songs I have written I can see a common thread, a style of my own, that makes me recognizable. And that means much more to me than being innovative.

Any upcoming release or tour your way?

Answer:

I have a bunch of songs, that ‘only’ need to be mixed and mastered. But since I do at least the mixing myself and I can to that only in my spare time, it will be later this year. The album already has a title: “Memories Of Days Beyond Forever”.  As for shows: I’m thinking about doing some Facebook live sessions, performing the songs live.

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?

Answer:

Follow me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stromfiremusic Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/stromfiremusic and visit my Bandcamp page: https://stromfire.bandcamp.com