#i went for the first time in ages to my local group this past sunday and i am Still Sore

[thesuperduckling24]

when you said "larping fits", I see now that you mean like costumes, but for a minute I misunderstood it as like ... epileptic fits, but with larping. like you suddenly go into character and start hitting people with foam swords for a few minutes before snapping out of it and being really disoriented.

LMAO that's so beautiful. not very fun for the other thrifters though, those things hurt like hell

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Timeless - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Literally my first attempt at a fic in forever so bare with me, but I had this idea and I couldn't not do it. Also definitely inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift in a way so don't mind me.

pairing: Lt. Robert Floyd x reader

warnings/content: no warnings, extra cute Bob. mutual pining. lots of fluff. mild angst if you squint.

word count: 2.6k

The cool, crisp November air tickled the back of your neck as you walked down the street, orange, red and yellow leaves peppering the sidewalks, the smells of autumn air filling your nose. You frowned as you zipped your jacket up further to cover you better, the breeze sending a shiver down you. The streets were buzzing with people out and about to finish their preparations for Thanksgiving. It was still a week or so away, but, no one leaves anything to the last minute around here, especially not when it comes to homemade pies and cornbread dressing. The smell of fresh brewing coffee swirled around you as you made your way closer to your favourite local bake shop, enveloping your senses as you walked. You stopped as something - someone caught your eye. You froze in your steps as you peered in the window of the bakery, and you almost gasped in surprise at who you saw standing in line to order. A tall man, with neatly styled dark blonde hair, wire framed glasses, and the most stunning blue eyes you’d ever seen - it had to be him.

Suddenly, he turned and saw you, a large smile on his face as he waved, as if he’d just seen his long lost best friend. In a way, he had. 

Robert Floyd had been your neighbour growing up, his house was two doors down from your parents - a pretty Victorian-Queen Anne style home that sat on the corner of the street. His mother had always kept her garden looking immaculate, like something out of a home and garden magazine. He was the youngest of three kids, with an older brother and older sister who were both outgoing and popular in school - Robert had always been shy and more reserved than his siblings. 

You moved in when you were 6, just getting ready to start the school year in a new town, terrified of your own shadow. The first thing you noticed when you’d moved in, was the Floyd house and its picturesque landscape. That, and the adorable boy around your own age who’d been playing out front, and waved shyly when he saw you through the back window of your parents’ car as you drove past. For the next 12 years, you and Robert Floyd, or Bobby as you’d always called him, had been best friends - practically inseparable friends, in fact. You did everything together possible. From bike rides to church on Sundays to trick-or-treating to sports teams, everything you could do together, you did. It was as though you couldn’t function as a child without Bobby by your side, and vice versa. 

That all changed when Bobby decided to enter the Navy when he turned 18. It was the first time you wouldn’t be going to school together, and the first time since you’d met that he couldn’t be by your side if you needed him. He was leaving you, and you couldn’t help but feel some resentment towards him for it. You’d wanted to tell him the day you graduated high school that you loved him, you’d wanted to beg him to stay or take you with him wherever he was heading, but for whatever reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something inside you had told you that it was futile - he’d always wanted to join the military, since the day you met him, and when you were 10 and he’d joined a Navy League Cadet Corps group, it was like fate had decided what he was going to do in life right then and there. You knew that no amount of love in the world shared between you two would have stopped him, and you also knew that he’d never let you give up on your own aspirations to follow him wherever he went. 

As you walked into the coffee shop, you were captivated by the smell of freshly baked pastries and roasted coffee beans, but everything around you seemed to freeze when you saw him in person - as if the whole world came to a complete standstill at that moment. God, you missed him. You didn’t even realize just how much you’d missed him over the last decade or so it’d been since you’d graduated. He rarely came back to South Carolina for visits, and you hadn’t exactly spent a ton of time in your hometown since college either, but in this moment, it was as if fate had decided again - you needed one another. 

“Kristen? Kristen Taylor, is that you?” His voice sounded the exact same, as if nothing had changed about him in the last 10 or so years. In fact, he even looked the same as he had when you’d graduated high school, even the frames of his glasses had remained the same. 

“Bobby? Wow, it’s been years! It’s so nice to see you,” You smiled fondly as he gently placed one of his large, firm hands on your arm, as if he wasn’t sure a hug was appropriate after so long.

“It’s been too long. Do you have a moment? We could sit and catch up for a few minutes, if you want to? I feel like we lost touch for some reason when I shipped out to training, and I feel like I missed a lot.” He nods sheepishly, almost as if he’s making an admission of guilt. 

“I think I can spare a few minutes,” You nod slowly, smiling as you met his deep blue eyes, “I’m home visiting from New York and just wanted to take it all in, you know? I don’t really have an agenda for today.”

“Perfect,” Robert nods his head as he points to an empty booth by the window, “I’ll wait here for you while you order.”

A few moments later, coffee in hand, you’re sitting opposite him just like you’d done so many times in this very coffee shop when you were teenagers, sipping sweet teas together while sharing a freshly baked cookie or two. He smiled as he set his coffee down and laughed softly, shaking his head as he spoke.

“What have you been up to? You said you’ve been in New York? Like the city? That’s awesome,” He appears completely invested in hearing everything you’ve been up to since he last saw you. 

“Well,” you began to unravel your recent past to him, or as much as you felt comfortable disclosing. You weren’t quite ready to share how you’d had failed relationship after failed relationship since you turned 18, unable to find any man who could compare to him or his sweet demeanor. You didn’t want to tell him that your last relationship ended mercifully as you prepared to walk down the aisle with your ex, and how you got cold feet a few months before the plans were finalized, but didn’t know why that was until today. You had told your ex you just weren’t ready - which wasn’t entirely untrue, but until Bob reentered your life a few minutes ago, it hadn’t dawned on you why you weren’t ready. In reality, it was because no one could ever be Bob. No one could ever give you butterflies like he had, or make you blush when he kissed you on the cheek after asking you to dance at homecoming when you were 15, or hold your hand so protectively as you said goodbye to him when he left for California. 

Instead, you told him how you’d gone to NYU for journalism, how you’d entered the field and loved it instantly, how writing was your passion and you loved it so, and you told him how you’d landed the ideal position, working for a major news network writing copy and scripts for the on-air hosts to read off of, working your way up the corporate food chain to make yourself a producer. You told Bob how New York winters were biting cold at times, but how the freshly fallen snow was almost romantic, and how the sight of Central Park at Christmas was stunning, no movie could do it justice. You told him how you adored the way New York had become like a second home to you, how you felt like you’d found the perfect place for you to thrive, something you’d always struggled with growing up in a small town in the south. 

Robert nodded his head as you spoke, showing deep interest in your every word and thought as you spoke. He never took his gaze away from you and never once appeared bored or as though his mind was elsewhere as you spoke - he was complete invested and hung up on your every word. When you finished, he smiled and sipped his coffee before leaning back slightly in the booth, his eyes widening slightly, the way they often had when you were growing up and he’d been impressed by something he’d read or seen. 

“Wow, you’ve done pretty well for yourself then, I’d say.” He laughs softly, “I haven’t been up to nearly as much, just different tours of duty with the navy, I became a Lieutenant, and became a Naval Weapons Systems Officer, graduated from the Top Gun program, where the top like, 1% of all pilots get called up to. I then joined a task force and did a few more missions with them. I’m still on that task force, but I applied for a leave because it’s been so long since I’ve been home and I haven’t taken a leave in probably,” Robert hums for a moment as he thinks, his cheeks turning red as he speaks, “Honestly? Probably four years. My parents and siblings usually either come to me in California, or I go to my brother’s house in Texas. I don’t often need to come here, but this year my mama wanted to host Thanksgiving, so I opted to come home.”

You noticed that, as Robert spoke, he couldn’t help but keep his focus entirely on you. It was like he was studying your every feature, in case he never got to see them again. The look in his eyes suggested that he never wanted to forget anything about you, as if he was scared that if he didn’t analyze every freckle, every hair on your head and every word that escaped your lips, he’d lose you. Like you’d fade away again, into nothing more than a distant memory. His cheeks continued to blush as he realized he’d been staring at you for longer than he had intended. He shook his head and let out another laugh, this one sounding strained, as if he was trying to cover up any awkwardness that may have arisen because of him. 

“You know, I really am glad we ran into each other again,” he nodded slowly. “You know, you’re still the only person who calls me Bobby. Nowadays, I’m always Bob or Robert, if you’re my parents,” he smiles fondly as he mentions the nickname you’ve called him since the day you met him. You decided that hot August afternoon that Bobby just suited him better. He agreed, and despite his mother’s protests that his name was Robert - it stuck. He was always Bobby to you, and he always would be. 

“Is that so? No other girls have thought to nickname you Bobby as a pet name?” You laughed as you raised an eyebrow before sipping your coffee. You found it hard to believe that he’d never found anyone else. A man as loving and affectionate as Bobby wasn’t something you found every day, you’d learned. In the past decade, you hadn’t managed to do it, despite your best efforts. 

You’d never found a man who matched him perfectly - his sweet personality, his soft spoken nature, his deep baritone voice, his laugh, the way he always protected you fiercely, but yet, always encouraged you to do whatever made you happy, and whatever you felt was best. You’d never met someone who’d rather die for you than ever see you upset. You’d yet to meet another man who’d wiped your tears when you were heartbroken or cuddle up and watch your favourite movie with you over and over again until you smiled when you were having a bad day, or meet another man who made your mother comment with, “Kristen, boys like him don’t come around too often.”. Bobby would always and forever be the only man who could meet all those expectations. 

You knew it was unfair of you, and until today, you didn’t even know why you were doing it, but no man could ever be Bobby. You’d rather spend the rest of your life alone than with anyone who wasn’t him, you’d come to notice. You just prayed he felt the same way, or that you at least could convince him that he did before he went back to California, whenever that was. 

“Nah, come on now, Krissy,” he chuckled as he used his nickname he’d always reserved for you growing up, “You know I’d never meet another girl who I’d let call me that. We could have been apart for 40 years instead of 10, and I still wouldn’t have let anyone else call me Bobby. That’s always been your thing for me. It wouldn’t feel right if someone else called me that, you know?”

“I do. I feel the same about being called Krissy. I don’t think anyone’s called me that since you left,” you nodded slowly as you let out a soft sigh, looking down at the now empty coffee cup on the table in front of you. 

“Krissy?” He said softly, his hand reaching across the table to touch yours ever so gently.  

“Mhmm?” You hummed, not wanting to meet his gaze out of fear that one look at him right now would make you crumble and burst into hysterical tears. 

“You know, I’ve really enjoyed seeing you. Do you think we could see each other again before I go back to base? I leave on Monday, I’m only here for 5 days, unfortunately,” he said quietly, gently holding your hand across the table. You can sense he has more he wants to say, but it’s like he’s struggling to get the words out.

“I think we can make that work, maybe after Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, we could go for a walk? Our folks still live two houses away from one another, so it’s not like we’ll be too far away from each other for the next few days. It’ll be just like old times.” You confirm, nodding your head reassuringly, trying not to seem too eager or excited at the prospect of seeing him every day for the next five days. 

“Sounds good,” Robert smiled warmly as he stood up from the booth, looking down at you with an excited happiness about him, “I’ll come knock on your door after dinner tomorrow then, we can go for a walk like we used to as kids, just enjoy being outside and all that.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you laugh as you shake your head, standing from your seat. 

You smiled softly to yourself as you watched Robert head outside, walking down the street past the window of the coffee shop, his navy quarter zip sweater and dark wash denim jeans suiting him perfectly. You bit your lip to hold back a grin as he walked away. You had five days to work up the courage to tell him how you felt. Five short days. You weren’t sure how you were going to do it, but you were certain about one thing - Bob wasn’t leaving South Carolina without you this time.

[faithhopeloveandtherapy]

Weekend round up (I know, it’s a day late)

I did my home park run on Saturday (first time in ages, but d3 has finished her Saturday morning football season so the car is now available to me). H and the baby came to cheer me on, and we met some of our friends there and had a fun time hanging out in the playground afterwards. We also bumped into a couple of social workers we’ve worked with in the past and they were super excited to see the baby and how well he is doing now compared to then. Then we came home and half watched the Coronation. Later in the afternoon, we went to a local cafe with d2 and d3 for smoothie bowls (them) and americano (me). d2 cooked us all a pasta creation for tea, and H and I finished watching Outlast on the TV (survival reality show set in Alaska - we enjoyed it but didn’t see one of the ending surprises coming!)

On Sunday, we went to church. H and the baby went over to play in the kids group. In the afternoon we went to the 3rd birthday party of the grandson of my friend who died. Still miss her at all these sort of occasions and it feels so easy to imagine her just there and hard to believe she’s not. Sunday evening I went for a swim - I can do the whole round trip drive there swim 1km shower drive home in an hour - and got home in time to put the baby to bed.

Monday was the highlight as an extra Bank Holiday. I went to the spa with my two friends. 8 blissful hours of lazing around and relaxing, with a delicious meal and shared bottle of wine in the middle. Because I’m worth it 🙌 Again I got home in time to put the baby to bed, and then I did my meal planning and supermarket order for delivery.

We were on call for fostering all this time, but no calls at all. I’m happy to be paid to carry my mobile phone around 24/7. We’re still on call now.

[336863]

I didn't had too much expectations in any way but the GZ trip with C and her family turned out to be pretty decent trip. I got to go to a new country and all-in-all was pleasantly surprised - the local chinese there were warm, service standards were pretty high and I actually liked most of the food that we had. I also got to know some of C's family a bit better - K, Uncle L, DG and even C's mum. Taking the time to have one-on-one chats with them was nice and less tiring than I had imagined it to be. Maybe a lot of time the inertia is in my head and its a mental block more than anything else. Penning this down reminds me of the conversation I had with Jef where he said he tries his very best to "say yes" whenever he has the opportunity and maybe I should start embracing this "yes theory of everything" hah. I digress a little but I guess as with any travel groups of size, there's also a fair bit of friction but I think it all went pretty smoothly (at least for the parts that C and I were there for) C also had the foresight to leave a couple days at the end just for the both of us and I thought it was a really cute way to end off the trip. As per usual we had our short/heated bust-ups... but according to C, seeing as we're both "fire signs", I should pay more attention to walking around her trigger points and she does mine. I have to say she does manage me plenty better than I do her. Plenty for me to work on here. And writing it out over here does indeed help as a reminder

Ora's passing during my time away from home was a low point for me this past week. I can't say that it's a complete surprise given that she's increasingly looked frail for a couple months but it still hit pretty deeply. During the trip I was trying very hard to avoid processing the news and was not allowing myself to grief. It could be that I didn't want to be a distraction to others or perhaps I just didn't want to appear too vulnerable in front of C. But she showed that she was there for me and made me feel comfortable enough to cry

Ora -- you were such an important part in our lives and you were my very first bun and have been with me through the entirety of my adult life. I keep replaying back to to our first/last shower I took you to on the Sunday before I left for GZ - you were so good and well-behaved. I'd thought that you'd be gassed at being washed but maybe you just had too little energy to resist by then. Regardless, I'm glad that we will always have that. 11 years is a long time even in human years so at least I'm glad you lived a very healthy life till a ripe old bunny age. Although you're not the most affectionate little bun, you were the least fussy with your food. And! You mothered 6 beautiful babies and I hope you'll be binkying with 5 of them now as well as enjoying all the nanas there is wherever you are. I'm glad you came into our family and I'll forever be grateful for it. Hop free now darling Ora, you've been as beautiful a bunny as you are a blessing. I'll miss you dearly

This extra week off for reservist is doing real good to my mental health and work-life balance. I feel like it's helping me recalibrate my headspace and realign what's important in my personal life outside of work, where the alternative scenario would be a breathless dive straight back into work... That'd leave me with little time/chance to introspect -- so this is good timing in the grand scheme of things. Seeing the army buds again was pleasant and every time we meet, it reminds me of how we've grown a little older and experiencing a little bit more of adulthood in our own ways

In trying to keep to my newly made 2024 resolutions, I hope I've made a decent start with this entry, cheers and let's hope 2024 kicks on in a good way buddy. You got this

[lindsaystravelblogs3]

Days 84/85 to 87 – Friday-Sunday, 18-20 August    Warsaw

(Because we were so long in the air and crossed so many time-zones, the title above may look strange, but it really is Friday, 18 August, having transitioned through 17 August some six paragraphs back in my previous post.)

Friday

We planned a lay-day for today – we welcome the occasional day off from the stress of travel and unfamiliar things, so enjoy a day hiding out in our room from time to time.

We had cereal for breakfast, using up the last of what we had purchased in Athens (that was ages ago) and spent a good deal of the morning reorganising, catching up with email, writing and editing photos, and responding to the many emails about the hiccups from the day before.

We went out for a walk at about 3pm and explored a little of our local area and went to find where our tour left from the following day.  We walked through a couple of the main squares and explored some of the old city, and enjoyed a very expensive drink at a little café.  It was quite near a McDonalds, so instead of breaking the bank at the café, we sat and shared some snacks and watched the world go by at McDonalds.

We had bought tickets for a Chopin concert online, but didn’t know where it was – in the Fryderick Concert Hall, but nobody had heard of it.  Chopin was born and lived in Warsaw and there were lots of Chopin concerts on, but nobody knew about this one.  We went to a few places that I had seen advertising Chopin concerts, and asked a range of local people, all to no avail.  We basically gave up, but as a last resort tried the Tourist Information Centre - and although they hadn’t heard of it, they tracked it down for us (back close to McDonalds again) so we ran up there and found it.  It is not visible from the street, in a walled area with a variety of other arts groups, so we enjoyed some free bubbles while we caught our breath and went in and sat down.  The concert was fabulous – some familiar pieces, some less familiar, but the Music Professor who played the piano for us was brilliant and the music was simply rapturous.  It had been hard work finding the place, but worth it ten times over.  A great experience!

It wasn’t a late night so we walked back to our hotel and on to the supermarket we had patronised yesterday – and ate spicy noodles in our room again for dinner.

Saturday

We had breakfast in our room and were out before 9.30am to ride the HOHO bus for which we had purchased tickets.  We rode the Blue Line first and it was pathetic.  The driver was clearly in a hurry and we were often well past a memorial or notable site before the commentary told us that ‘you are now approaching the site of……’  The whole thing was farcical and not worth a tenth of what we had paid.  All HOHO buses worldwide offer a 10% discount if you show them a receipt from a previous excursion – but in Warsaw, they don’t honour their promise for some reason.  But the driver asked if we were seniors (do we still look like teenagers) and agreed to give us the 10% seniors’ discount anyway.

We Hopped Off before the end of the line and went to a big shopping mall where we had lunch – but not before walking all over the place looking for a sporting goods store that sold hiking stick tips.  We eventually found one and bought six tips - a good job too, because we have already used four of them.  We then had lunch at a Japanese restaurant – and very nice it was too.

We rejoined the Blue Line after quite a wait and rode it back to the starting point where we joined the Red Line.  That was considerably better than the Blue Line, but had the problem of driving down several streets with healthy street trees that slapped the unwary in the face of those sitting in the unprotected top level of the double-decker bus.  That has been a minor issue on other HOHO buses, but with so many more green spaces in Warsaw, it was a much more significant problem here.

Toward the end of our ride, the clouds became ominous and we thought we might have had to retreat to the crowded downstairs level, but we made it back to the terminus free of rain.  In fact, despite another fierce afternoon thunderstorm, there was very little rain, just a few spots that had no impact at all on us.

We stopped in at a different supermarket a little closer to our room for more water and then ate dinner in our room, serenaded for at least two hours by an electric harp and a cello, played by a couple of young women we had seen a couple of times in our travels.  They were playing in the restaurant below our window.  It was quite delightful.

Day 87 – Sunday, 20 August 

We had a walking tour in the morning that actually extended to 2pm, by which time we were glad to be able to sit down and have something to eat.

It was a good tour with quite a lot of walking, but we saw some interesting things.  One was the house where Marie Curie was born and raised – almost diagonally across the road from our hotel.  We also saw a great statue of her overlooking the river and a large area of parkland. 

Our guide told us a lot about the horrific carnage that occurred in Poland, and especially in Warsaw, over centuries, but focussing largely on the German, and subsequent Soviet, slaughter and destruction during the Second World War. 

There was a short-lived (2-month, mainly Jewish) uprising against the German Occupation and Himmler instructed that every person in Warsaw should be killed and every building destroyed as punishment and as an example to the rest of the world that Germany was willing to do absolutely anything to gain its objectives in the war.  Hundreds of thousands were shot or taken to the nearby concentration camps to be exterminated, and every building for kilometres around was blown up.  We saw photos of the utter destruction brought about as a result of the decree.  Once the Soviets took over, they were as bad, and Warsaw was almost wiped from the map within a couple of years as a result.  Hospitals and churches in particular were targeted and everyone who could be found was murdered.  We saw lots of evidence of the damages and  even saw a pit-cover in the middle of an intersection where many of the Resistance accessed the sewers in an attempt to escape.

The manhole cover in the middle of the intersection through which some of the Resistence fighters eascaped into the sewers. The lower of the two street signs on the building (on the right) was somehow used to indicate to the escapees where the escape route started.

We went to the Military Cathedral towards the end of a church service and saw more evidence there.  There is a very long memorial chapel with more than ten thousand names inscribed – all of them POW officers captured by the Russians and then shot in retribution for their army beating the Russians in a skirmish a few years earlier. 

The names of more than 10,300 Polish POW officers are inscribed on these walls, all murdered on Stalin's orders in retribution for embarassing the Russian army in a defeat a few years earlier.

It goes on, but certainly Warsaw’s history must be one of the most bloody and horrific of any anywhere in the world.  Yet today, so much has been rebuilt as close as possible to its original state in defiance of the treatment the city suffered.  The Warsaw population, almost within our lifetime, has suffered the most ghastly persecution, desecration and bloodshed, it is hard to believe.  It certainly brought home to me in a new way the evil that men can inflict on others for no reason other than that they can – and so they do!

Our tour took us across the city and we saw where the Jewish Ghetto was, and how the Germans progressively reduced its size and hugely increased its population with no increase in food supplies so thousands starved to death.  The horror stories go on – and on and on…… and almost every time we stopped to look at a building or a plaque or memorial, further atrocities were revealed.  It certainly made me feel sick that individuals in my own species could act as they did, knowingly and wilfully, for years at a time.

We walked to a wonderful area of parkland where hundreds of people were picnicking in anticipation of an outdoor Chopin Concert to be performed an hour or so later. We didn't dally, but walked quite a long way through the park, learning about more of the history and monuments we saw along the way. We saw the former King's modest palace and the much more opulent governor's shed and eventually returned to the centre of the city.

Our two-and-a-half hour morning tour finished at about 2pm and we were released in the centre of the city to enjoy quite a sober lunch.  I tried a local specialty called Lard – and it is really slightly flavoured lard.  I ate a little, but couldn’t eat more than about a third of my serving.

We called past the supermarket for more drinks on the way back home and had a nap after all the walking we had done.  And we ate in the room again at night – with no delightful serenade from the restaurant below.

[fatedwithmbc]

Over the past twenty four hours, I've attempted to write this post in my head. When you're a writer, this is a bad idea, because whatever words make their way to the inevitable edit don't seem as great. However, I'm going to put that aside. Also, I can't believe that it has been almost a month since my last post. I only know that because tomorrow begins session/round three of Ibrance, Alas, what has been in my head and brought me here:

In 1999, my Mom-Mom was determined to see my sister and I confirmed. I'm an Episcopalian and making your confirmation is the Catholic equivalent of everything important. So, my soul was on the line and I couldn't disappoint her or damn my soul for eternity (despite my understanding that baptism would provide the forgiveness of my sins. I guess that needs renewal in your teen years). To help learn the fundamentals of the lessons I needed to understand to successfully accomplish Confirmation, I would go to youth group each Sunday either before or after church to get my extra dose of God. This particular year, one of the activities we, as a group, were signed up for the AIDS Walk in Philadelphia.

There wasn't much to do to as a participant except to fundraise a particular dollar amount to earn your t-shirt.

I remember standing in lines outside of the museum for registration and I must of met the fundraising requirement because I received a t-shirt and tiny me had an XS and was swimming in that. I remember waiting in line with others in youth group, hearing the key note speaker, but not really paying too much attention. Undoubtedly, due to my age and my greater excitement of standing with and then the possibility of spending the morning goofing off with my crush as we walked the course; he had the same idea, only with his crush (hence the term crush). Beyond that, I remember the walk, the t-shirt, the failed flirting attempt, and being slightly glad to have had a true reason for procrastinating my homework.

This was my first experience with a 5K. Lackluster. A requirement. Underwhelming.

Fast forward about 15 years and I was determined to run a 5K on my own just to say that I could. It was a 4th of July "Fun Run" the Red, White and Zoo at the Philadelphia Zoo. I spent the day wandering about the zoo looking at all of the animals especially the Hippopotamuses, or is it Hippopotami?? Any trip to the zoo for me will include the Hippo's (they are my undoubtedly favorite animal in case you didn't know). One year, I was gifted a behind the scenes experience to feed Cindy and Una and I am still convinced that nothing with top that experience (Thanks. Dad!). Overall, the "Fun Run" was terrible, the course was cut short due to rain and a flooding in particular zoo sections. So, my first 5K was only 2.5 miles. I felt like a failure but it was supposed to be for fun. So I shrugged my shoulders and vowed I'd do it "next" time. This began my several year foray into running. And my roommate avidly supported me. I’ll never forget my sign and balloon after my failed 5K which gave me more motivation to keep going.

Despite the imperfect race, I found the Bonnie J. Addario Lung Cancer Foundation 5K, which for several years I did hard work to fund raise (organizing Dine & Donate’s with local restaurants) and participate. As the years went on, my reason for races and the impact I wanted to make became stronger. Especially for this organizations that were close to my heart, like BJALCF, as they did much work for lung cancer patients, which most who know me, know me Pop-Pop succumbed to.

After needing physical therapy for sore and improperly strengthened IT Bands (and I went back to school), I hung up my running shoes.

Many may be asking why I’m giving my life’s history on 5K’s, but I have one coming up for me. For my disease. For my own program who has helped me. Unite for Her will be holding their 5K on September 23rd in West Chester. I have a group of friends to walk along with me and I feel overly supported in the best way. I have also pushed hard for my fundraising and have been so appreciative to everyone who has donated (there’s still time)! This 5K feels like the most important I’ve ever participated in because of my diagnosis and because it supports the organization that supports women in my condition. They offer a way for women to take some charge in their treatment path, offering eastern medicine practices like Reiki and Acupuncture. I want to help this foundation as much as they’ve helped me. I’ve recognized how important it is to me to do what I can to support the organization. So if my history of 5K’s helps, then I’m glad I rambled through them. Thanks for reading and as always the support!!

My fundraising link is still active:

https://runsignup.com/ashleysibley

[cyoc49]

A Good Man is Easy to Make

I’ve always been the optimistic type. I believe that even society’s worst troublemakers have the potential for goodness buried somewhere within them. It’s a matter of understanding where someone has come from, and where they need to get to for their betterment.

…And of course if I’m able to help them along that path, I always do!

Last week I was walking home after work. As I passed by Miss Minnie’s Pie Shop, a beloved local bakery, I noticed some shadowy figures down the alley to the side. They didn’t notice me as I approached them, but as I got closer I could tell there was 3 men, all roughly college age. Eventually I could see what they were doing: vandalizing the building with obscene graffiti.

Well this was simply shameful! And a prime example of the vagrancy that’s so rampant in our world today. I saw a problem, and by god was I going to fix it.

I cleared my throat, letting the delinquents know I was there. They stopped spraying for long enough to turn and look at me, with confusion followed by pity for the idiot who thought he could win a 1 on 3 fight. Of course, I had no intentions of physically stopping them. Instead I just asked them one simple question:

“Is this really the best you can be?”

In an instant countenance on their faces changed from anger to shock. I knew a pit of worry was now forming in their stomachs, as if their bodies felt something was deeply wrong. Humans have a second nature for detecting threats, but rather than an immediate threat, these boys were feeling a historical threat: a realization of every single poor path they had previously been led down, every wrong decision they had made that had led them to the point where they were vandalizing an old woman’s bakery. And as soon as their bodies realized what was wrong, they lurched to correct the errors. I saw them writhe and contort; they were undergoing the overwhelming but not painful experience of their pasts changing, course correcting every wrong decision into a right one, leading them down the one perfect path that would make them the best possible versions of themselves.

By the time they finished, the three men who stood before me were unrecognizable compared to the wastes they had been before. They now appeared to be far more agreeable fellows.

First was Charlie, the former ringleader of the group. He had grown up in a religious household, with parents who went to church every Sunday. But at the point at the point in time where he had previously refused to go to church and eventually joined a group of rebels in his neighborhood, Charlie instead eagerly embraced the weekly tradition. He loved his Church’s local community and all the good people he met just as much as he loved the sermons & scriptures. He took every opportunity to give back to those in need through service groups & events. Charlie believed in the inherent goodness of people, and used his church community as a personal touchstone to the community at large.

Outside of church, he was one of the most sociable and outgoing people on his college campus. He made a point to know as many people as he could on a first name basis, and people left conversations with Charlie feeling a lot better about themselves. He continued to stay active through several extracurriculars: campus ministry, track & field, choir, and Beta Rho Omega, a fraternity for the most upstanding men on campus. He was the guy everyone got along with… as long as you didn’t mind that he was also the kind of guy who brought his guitar along to every event and retreat.

Charlie was the perfect friend, always encouraging and friendly, though he cared especially for his two best friends. The three were essentially joined at the hip, always volunteering together and supporting each other’s events.

Next was Eddie, now known as Eckworth. Whereas Eddie had always had a taste for music with vulgar lyrics, at a young age Eckworth had discovered a love of reading, which ignited a curiosity for knowledge in him ever since. He had always been the brightest student in his classes, which had (along with his participation in crew) taken him to Princeton on a full ride scholarship. He was studying neurology and one day hoped to go to medical school to become a brain surgeon; his 4.0 and multiple medical internships certainly helped with that. He shared his gift of knowledge with other students when they needed it, helpful but not cocky, and was effectively a tutor for his brothers in Beta Rho Omega.

Raised in Cape Cod, Eckworth was unwaveringly polite and well-mannered, with an old money charm about him. He may be the only college student with a mahogany bookcase in his dorm room, filled to the brim with classic literature, physics texts, science periodicals, and all sorts of other intellectually stimulating reads. He took care to look & dress sharp every time he left the house, allowing his body be another outlet for the intelligence and class he felt inside. There’s no doubt Eckworth was one of the finest young men you’d ever meet.

And finally Thompson, the definition of “Mr. All American”. He had grown up in a small town in Vermont, and in a past life had even run away from that town in favor of living on the streets with a shady group. But Thompson would never do that. He always helped his ma & pa on their orchard growing up, while also trying hard in his local high school and serving as captain of his football team. By the time Thompson moved to the big city for college, he was a hometown hero, doubly so when he was named MVP of Princeton’s football team in his junior year. Outside of this he studied business management and agricultural science, hoping to take the family orchard to new heights one day, and maybe even eventually start a loving family of his own.

He had a small town charm laced with a kind humility, the kind of man who just wanted to make his ma proud. He was a natural charmer to women (and a few fellas too), and always offered a helping hand to his fraternity brothers, especially his two best buds. When he wasn’t at the gym keeping himself in peak physical shape, he was out immersing himself in nature. Whether it was a hike through the forest or a trip to the oceanside, Thompson loved to feel as one with the earth. One time he had even convinced the boys to come out camping with him. For as much as he kept his appearance clean, he had a strong rugged spirit.

Together the trio brought out the best in each other: Charlie offering charisma and leadership, Eckworth providing a voice of reason, and Thompson boosting their confidence and work ethic. They embodied the refined charm of New England, and were model gentlemen. A complete 180 from- well that doesn’t matter now. Let’s let bygones be bygones and pretend those old fellows never existed at all. I like these ones much better, don’t you agree?

As I faced the new upstanding men, they once again stared at me , though this time with much more warmth in their gazes. They helped Miss Minnie out around her shop every Thursday, keeping the premises tidy and organized. They were taking out the garbage when I had run into them.

Charlie offered a pleasant greeting in my direction “Hello there sir! Hope your day is going well.”

“Indeed” Eckworth chimed in with his hands clasped behind his back, “it’s such a pleasant day today.”

I concurred, “complete agreement, good sirs. I hope Miss Minnie is treating you well.”

“Oh, it’s always a pleasure working for her.” Thompson offered with a hearty laugh. “She always offers us goods at the end of the day. She’s really as sweet as apple pie!”

I smiled “She sure is”

I wished them a great day, and headed out on my way after receiving a near-simultaneous chorus of “you too, sir!” from them. I walked away from the scene happy that the world was now a slightly better place. As I said, everyone has the potential for greatness in them, and it is an honor of mine to help them achieve that greatness. I silently hoped another troublesome situation would arise on my way home, so I could continue to keep my community upstanding. After all, a good man may be hard to find, but he sure is easy to make.

[sunmoonandeddie]

who you are and who you’ve been

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,490

summary: Sometimes love takes a little longer to find you.

warnings: SMUT.  Mention of past abusive relationship, drinking, swearing.

a/n:  Thank you so much to @zeilenkrieg for commissioning this and being so patient while I wrote it!!

“Mama!  Mama!  You here?”

You sighed as you looked up from your coffee, seeing your daughter coming through the living room.  She had on that pair of daisy dukes that she stole from your wardrobe—the ones you used to wear in the heat of summer, a white shirt tied to let the sun on your tummy.  You used to scandalize your own mama with that outfit… 

You had argued with her that she had worn the same kind of outfit back in the seventies, and that vintage was in.  But she liked to wear hers with cowboy boots and you preferred it with a good pair of sneakers.

God, you missed being young…  Your twenties had been absolutely wild, even if they had started out with that horrible pandemic in 2020.

You still washed your hands after touching almost anything.  An instinct that never went away.

That year and the couple years before had been… insane.  But at least it incited real change in the world.  The people had learned from their mistakes, at least for now.

History did have a habit of repeating itself.  Humans were fickle, forgetful creatures like that.

“Yes, honey bun?” You said as you stood up, moving to hug her.

At thirty-seven years old, she was the only good thing that ever came out of your marriage.  That, and knowing how to wash blood out of clothing.

The only problem was that by the time you’d finally left him, you had no friends left.  You were in your forties by then, with no family besides your daughter, and no friends left to speak of.  You hadn’t even had Facebook at the time to keep in touch with old schoolmates from university.  And by then, what was the point?  They were all leading completely different lives and probably hadn’t spared you a thought in at least a decade.

“When’s the last time you left the house?” She asked, her hands on her hips in a stance that reminded you so much of yourself that it scared you.

Now that… that was hard to answer…  You honestly didn’t think you’d be able to remember.  You got practically everything delivered, you worked from home… 

Shaking your thoughts away, you shot her a look.  “I’m fine right where I am.”

“Your doctor called and said you haven’t been taking your medication.”

“Fuckin’ snitch,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the window, staring down at the now cold coffee.

Josephine rolled her eyes.  “He said you haven’t picked up your refill in over two months.”  She came over to stand next to you, staring out the window with you for a long time.  “Mama, you’ve gotta take your medicine…  You remember what happened last time…”

Ah, yes, the infamous incident.

Which was an incident in a long line of incidents.

There had been a��� few times when you’d stopped taking your medication—either intentionally or simply because you had forgotten—and it had resulted in a stay in the psych ward at the local hospital.  It had happened far too many times for your daughter to not be in contact with your doctor so she would be informed if you had stopped getting your refills.

You didn’t blame her, of course.  But it did make you feel like a horrible mother.  One who couldn’t even take care of herself to the point where your daughter had to.

“Yes, I remember last time,” you sighed, staring at a cardinal.  “You know, my mama used to tell me that if you see a cardinal, a loved one who’s passed is visiting you…”

“Mama, I signed you up for a seniors’ social club.”

You blinked.

And then, you blinked again.

You turned to look at your daughter, disbelief written all over your face.  “No the fuck you did not.  I swear to all that is holy, Josephine Ann, if you signed me up for one of those… those… pre-death support groups, I’ll tan your hide!”  You gasped as some of your coffee splashed onto your sweatshirt.  “I brought you into this world, and I sure as hell can take you out of it!”

“You’ve been saying that since I was two,” She said, taking your arm and guiding you to sit down at the kitchen table.  “And it’s not a pre-death support group.  I feel like that’s offensive somewhere so make sure you don’t go running around the group saying that.”  Josephine used a paper napkin to dab at the coffee on your sweatshirt, muttering about throwing it into the wash and getting you a new one.

This was what you meant by your daughter taking care of you.

“Josie, really, I can get my own sweatshirt.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta,” she said as she came back with a new one, helping you change.

Sometimes you felt like she thought you were a hundred years old.

“Honestly, mama…  I just want you to be happy…  You should have friends.  You shouldn’t be cooped up in this house all day, all the time.”

“What do I need friends for when I’ve got you?  And Danny?” You asked.

But you had been hit with the sudden reality that except for Josephine and her girlfriend, you were alone.  Completely, and utterly, alone.  Hell, they were the only people you had ever invited over to the tiny one bedroom you owned.

Repairmen didn’t count because they were there to do a job, not keep you company.

God, you had wanted more than this, once upon a time.  You had once had dreams, of maybe being a writer and making the New York Times’ Bestsellers List, of a husband who adored you and brought you flowers every Friday, of lazy Sundays eating waffles on the couch with the love of your life.

But life didn’t end up the way you had dreamed it.  There were no book signings or meetings with editors… there were no gardenias… and there was no smell of waffles and syrup.

And you’d made your peace with that.

Sort of.

Josephine’s arms wrapped around you as she rested her head against yours.  Like a mirror of yourself, she was, from her face down to her toes.

Thank god.  She didn’t deserve to have to look in the mirror and see reflections of her father.

“Will you at least try it?” She asked gently, her hand running up and down your arm, her freshly manicured nails tickling your skin.  “It’s not like a pre-death support group, as you call it…  It’s for seniors or people who are approaching seniority and are still active and want to go out and have fun, but maybe need some friends to do it with.  Please?”

And how could you say no when she wanted something so badly?

“Alright,” you said after a moment.  “I’ll go once.  And if it’s horrible, I’m not going back.  And I’m gonna tell Danny how you forced me to meet a bunch of strangers.”

She squealed excitedly, running off to your bedroom and going through your closet.  “Okay, the first thing the group is doing is having a first meeting at a bar, and we’re gonna get you all done up.”

Oh, good.  She was going all in.

“When’s the first meeting?” You asked as you sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands as you watched her.

“Tonight.”

Uh.  What?

“TONIGHT?!” You shouted in shock as you jumped up.  “What?!  You didn’t think to ask me about this a few days ago?!”

She snorted, picking out a few tops that you hadn’t worn in what felt like decades.  “I signed you up this morning, I didn’t know about it a few days ago.”

You watched in exasperation as she threw article after article of clothing onto the bed for you to try on.  “I don’t think I need to wear four pairs of jeans to a bar,” you said, beginning to pick up a few of the pieces.

Josephine gave you a look as she continued.  “Considering how long it’s been since you’ve been out, I think it’s fair that some of these might not fit anymore.”

Well, you had lost some weight…  Not necessarily in a healthy way, but she was right.

In the end, she ended up shoving you into the bathroom and forced you to do a full shower—which meant body and hair.

You hadn’t even gone to such lengths when you were going on your first date with her father.

She spent hours on your hair and makeup, chattering away excitedly about the vacation her and Danny were planning.  A South American cruise.

Josephine had never married, never had kids.  Never wanted to after seeing what her daddy had put you through.  It left a sour taste in her mouth, and even though it was legal now, her and her girlfriend hadn’t breathed a word of a wedding.

Though, you suppose they had a common law marriage at that point, if lesbians were included in it.

“Perfect,” she said as she got you to slip on an old jacket of yours that was a little too big.  “Come on.  I’ll drive you and pick you up.”

“Oh, honestly,” you snorted as you grabbed the purse Josephine had shoved all your things into.  “You’d think I could take an Uber.”

The bar wasn’t what you had expected when she had first told you that’s where the meeting was going to be held.  The last bars you’d been to had practically been nightclubs.

But this was… upscale.  Sophisticated.

Now you understood just why she had put so much work into making you look presentable.

It didn’t look like anyone else was there yet, even though most of the patrons were around your age, so you took a seat at the bar, the group’s site pulled up on your phone.

“What can I get for you, miss?” The bartender asked as he set down a coaster in front of you.

A snort erupts from your throat as you look at him.  “You always call women as old as me miss?”

“Oh, come on, you’re a catch,” he said, shooting you a playful wink.  “My dad’s single, you know.  If you were… looking.”

“Thank you, but I’m not,” you said gently, your cheeks flushed.  “Can I get a Manhattan?”

The bartender nodded, gracefully backing off the subject of you possibly dating his father.  And barely a minute and a half later, there’s a perfectly made Manhattan set on your coaster.

You’d barely taken a sip before someone came up beside you.  “Do you have Macallan’s 18 Year Sherry Oak?” A man asked.  At the bartenders confirmation, he hummed.  “Can I get a double on the rocks?”

The bartender dropped a large ball of ice into a glass before pouring two shots of whiskey over it and handing it to the man.

“Macallan’s, huh?” You said softly, your heart pounding.  Josephine had told you to make friends.  That was the whole point of this, even if the man wasn’t part of the social club you’d been forced into.  “You know your whiskeys.”

The tall man took a seat beside you, his eyes boring into the side of your face.  You hadn’t dared look at him yet.  “I’ve always preferred those who choose a Manhattan over a martini any day.”

“And why is that?” You asked, finally looking up at him.

And oh, you wished you hadn’t.  He was… stunning.  The very definition of male beauty.  His salt and pepper hair reminded you of the photos of the men in the forties…  The 1940s, that is.  Blue eyes so striking that you lost your breath, and broad shoulders that you knew would haunt your dreams.  He was wearing a glove on his left hand for some reason, but you didn’t linger on it too long.

But at least he was at least your age, if not a little older.  You’d die if you’d just sort of flirted with a twenty-something asshole who just bought expensive whiskeys for the sake of buying expensive whiskeys to show that he had money to blow.

“Martini drinkers think they’ll get some kind of award for their choice of drink,” he said, “as though choosing a drink that generally tastes like shit is some kind of accomplishment.  Unless you’re just taking a shot, a drink should taste good.”  He looked you up and down, letting his pretty blues linger on your lips.  There were faint crow feet at the corners of his eyes, but they just seemed to make him even more handsome.  “And a Manhattan doesn’t need a fancy whiskey.  It is steady and sure even with the cheapest five dollar bottle you can get from a gas station.  Someone whose drink of choice is a Manhattan is sure of who they are and what they want.”

You hadn’t felt this hot under a man’s gaze in decades.  “Really?”  Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you took another sip of your drink to buy you a moment.

“Mmm…”  He stole one of the two cherries from your drink, biting it off the stem.  You were transfixed as he slipped the stem into his mouth, sticking his tongue out about thirty seconds later with a perfect cherry stem knot on display.  “Really.  I’m James.  What’s your name?”

Butterflies filled your stomach as you gave him your name.  God, you felt like you were sixteen again and being flirted with for the first time.

His eyes flicked down to your open phone that rested on the bar, the social club’s page still up.  “You’re here for the meeting, too?”

“Um…  Yes,” you said, ducking your head.

“But, doll…”  He leaned towards you, a charming smile on his lips.  “You don’t look a day over thirty-five.  Are you sure you’re a senior?”

Blinking, your mouth hung open in a soft o.  “Are you planning on flirting with every woman in the club like this?”

James looked around dramatically, his gloved hand resting over his heart.  “A club?!  Is that what you call this place?” He asked, mockingly serious.  “Damn, what does that make all those dirty, gross places these young kids go to now?  Brothels?”

For some reason, you felt comfortable enough to shove his shoulder, surprised a little at the feeling of metal under his jacket sleeve.

For the first time, he looked a bit… uncomfortable.  He had flinched a bit, his bright eyes focused surely on his drink.  “Um…”

“You’re the Winter Soldier.  James Barnes,” you said curiously, your head tilting to the side as you looked at him.  “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhm,” you drawled, taking the cherry left in your drink and biting it off in a way that you hoped was alluring.  “Though, I gotta say, it is a bit awkward to meet the man I wrote two papers about in high school.”

Shit, his laugh was beautiful.  Everything about him was beautiful.  Like Apollo or something...

James’s head was thrown back in laughter.  His cheeks were flushed, his eyes squeezed shut.  “Did you actually write two papers about me?” He asked as he tried to catch his breath.  At your nod, he smirked, leaning in close again.  “What did you write about?  How devilishly handsome I am?”

You couldn’t believe you were saying this.  “I mean, I can show you the papers and actually let you read them, but they’re at my place.”

Before he could pick his jaw up off the ground, there were other seniors in the group coming up to greet you.  Your throat was dry as the Sahara as you turned to face them, plastering on a smile as you tried to ignore the heated gaze on your face and the way he licked his lips.

The meeting was… long.  Boring.

Or at least, that’s how it felt when you had James’s dark, sultry eyes on you the entire goddamn time.

Mind fuzzy, you vaguely remembered agreeing to come to the next meeting, and even signing up for a hiking trip they were taking the next weekend.

As you headed outside, you felt Bucky’s hand slip into yours, his long, calloused fingers intertwining with yours.  “So…  Am I gonna get to come over and… read those papers?” He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

God, you could practically feel yourself bursting into flames.  You weren’t gonna survive.

Thank god your daughter had forced you into a full shower.

But what about how dirty your house was sure to be?

“Um…  Y-Yeah,” you said as you turned to look at him.  “But, my daughter is gonna be driving me home…  I don’t want her to know I’ve got someone coming over.  She’s nosey.  Real…  Real nosey.”

“Of course, darlin,’” he chuckled.  “Here, why don’t I give you my phone number, and you shoot me a text with your address when you’re ready for me to come over?”

Your head was swirling as you got into your daughter’s car, your phone burning a hole in your purse.

“How was it?” Josephine asked nervously once you got about halfway home.  She couldn’t tell from the look on your face.  “Did you like it?”

“Hm?  Yeah.”  Swallowing, you shot a text to James with your name, telling him you’d text him when it was all clear.

“Are you gonna go again?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She seemed both dissatisfied and pleased by your vague answers.  At least you were getting out of the house.

Once you got home and said goodbye, it was a mad dash to ensure that your house was clean as could be.  Josie had put in some work while you’d been gone, it seemed.  She’d done the dishes and the laundry, as well as dusted.

Thank fuck.

You struggled for a solid twenty minutes to put fresh sheets and pillowcases on the bed, lighting two candles and placing them in a manner that you hoped seemed natural.

“Shit,” you cursed as you smelled under your arms.

Okay, quick body shower.  It seemed all that flirting had made you a tiny bit sweaty.

You turned the water to scalding and scrubbed your body down, exfoliating and using your best scented body wash.

And to be quite frank, you’d never shaved your lady bits as quick as that.

As you texted him your address and that it was safe to come over, you pulled on your clothing from the bar (though, you did put on nicer, matching lingerie underneath.)  By the time he’d gotten there, you’d downed two shots of tequila for a bit of liquid courage and had poured yourself a glass of wine.

“Hey, baby doll,” he said, a crooked grin on his face as you welcomed him inside.  His glove had been abandoned, and black metal fingers lined with gold glittered in the light.  “Woah…  You know, I wasn’t sure how your place was gonna look, but this is very… you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked as you offered him a glass of wine, which he gratefully took.  “How so?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled as he swirled the deep red liquid in its glass.  “It’s cozy.  Sweet.”

Your throat was dry as you watched his adam’s apple bob as he took a drink.  “Um… so those papers…”

Bucky whispered your name, moving closer to you as he set the wine glass down on the counter.  “Baby girl, I’m not really here for the papers, am I?” He asked as your back hit the island.  “If I am…  If I am, then just tell me, and I’ll stop this.”  His slightly chapped lips ghosted against yours like the tease he was.  “Am I here just for the papers?”

“No,” you breathed out, before pressing your lips against his in a firm kiss at last.  His breath was minty and cool, with just a touch of the wine you’d been sharing, like he’d brushed his teeth before coming over just like you had.

Could it be possible he was just as nervous as you were?

But he was perfect?  Why the hell would he be nervous?

Your thoughts were cut short as he reached down, his hands firmly grabbing your ass as he lifted you up and set you on the counter.  “That’s a good girl,” he growled as he kissed down your neck, his hands working at your blouse.  “Couldn’t stop thinking about you during that whole stupid fucking meeting.  Just wanted to kiss you.  Just wanted to… to touch you.”  He pulled back, kissing you fiercely as his hands moved from your blouse to hold your face again.  “You gonna let me touch you, angel?”

A whine escaped your throat as you nodded, desperately yanking at his shirt.  Once it was off, you didn’t hesitate to run your hands over the broad planes of his chest.  He wasn’t quite as toned as you remembered from when you were younger, when you used to (occasionally) stalk (lightly) his social media accounts.  There’d been so many pictures of him on vacation with the other Avengers… all tanned and toned…

But you liked this better.  There was a softness to him now, a gentleness.

You were so distracted by his physique that you didn’t notice he’d gotten your shirt and bra off until the cold air hit your chest.  “Fuck,” you mumbled as his lips found your neck, trailing down to your breasts.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been kissed, let alone the last time you’d had such… attention.

Especially when his hands worked your pants off and he stood between your legs, moaning as his fingers tickled your thighs.  “You’re so beautiful,” he said as his lips wrapped around one nipple, suckling at it and teasing until it was diamond hard, and he moved on to the other.

Gotta be fair, after all.

“James…”

“Fuck, baby girl…  Never been with a woman as beautiful as you,” he growled, kissing down your tummy.  “You’re not making it out of here without orgasming at least twice,” he warned jokingly.  He was half bent over in front of the island, watching in wonder as he slowly pulled your silk panties down your legs and revealed your aching core to him.

“I-If you’re not comfortable standing like that, w-we can move somewhere else,” you stammered, suddenly growing self conscious.  What if he thought your pussy was weird?  Granted, you’d overcome thinking that when you were in your early twenties, after learning that each one looked different.

But he was born in the forties.

But that meant he’d probably seen an exponential amount of pussies!

Oh, god, there was no way you’d have anywhere near as much experience as him.  The only person you’d ever been with was your ex husband, and he wasn’t exactly the paradigm of lovers.

“Hey.”

You refocused with a shake of your head, your eyes meeting James’s.  “Yes?”

“You’re in your head,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly ran his fingers along your sensitive folds.  “There’s no need…  It’s just you and me, okay?  And you’re absolutely perfect.”

Your heart was melting inside your chest as you nodded, stealing a tentative kiss.  “Okay…  Just you and me.”

James nipped at your lower lip as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.  “Come on.  I don’t want our first time to be on a kitchen counter.  Though I make no promises I won’t help christen every inch of this house after,” he said with a playful growl.

You whispered directions to your bedroom as he held you tight to his chest, his lips finding purchase on your neck.  “And here I thought you said the super soldier serum was wearing off,” you joked.

The man snorted as he pushed you up against the hallway wall.  “Trust me, doll, no lack of super soldier serum is gonna stop me from fucking you right,” he said, his voice husky and deep.

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, two thick fingers were slipping inside of you to slowly tease your cunt, his lips ghosting over yours.  “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at the whimper that fell from your lips.  “Y-Yes.  Yes.  Please, I need more, James…”

James smiled into the kisses he’d been giving you.  “I’ll give you everything you want.”

“That’s a tall order.”  You threaded your fingers through his hair, shivering at the way his metal fingers dug into the plumpness of your ass.  “You sure you can fill it?”

He doesn’t respond with words, growling as he kisses you fiercely, carrying you to the bedroom.  You don’t have time to think before he’s crawling over you and kissing up your tummy to your lips.  “I need to be inside you,” He whispered as he stroked his length.

“Please…  Don’t wanna wait anymore,” you said.  Vaguely, you’re aware of the twinge in your knees from all the physical activity, and you knew you’d be sore as hell in the morning.

Fucking worth it, though.

James didn’t hesitate to line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.  When he finally pushed in, unison moans fill the air.

“I…  I haven’t done this in… so long,” you finally admitted as he slowly pushed in more, taking his time.  Eyes locked, your mouth fell open in a soft ‘o’ as he bottomed out, his hips meeting yours.  “Oh, fuck…”

“Then I better do a real good job fucking you right.”

You weren’t quite sure how long you two lasted, but you do know he manages to pull three orgasms out of you in the space of just a few hours.  There’s snack and water breaks in between rounds, his cool metal hand running up and down your spine to cool you down as you two whisper in the dim light of your desk lamp.

You can’t remember a time that you’d felt so at peace.

A spark had been lit inside your chest as you two laid there in bed, legs intertwined.  Both of you were quiet, his fingers moving to caress your cheek.

There were no words that needed to be said.

His sea blue eyes are sparkling in the dim light, and your hand runs over the sharp stubble that lines his jaw.  It had certainly marked up your neck.

“I had intended on asking you on a date,” he said quietly as his hand found yours, bringing it to his mouth.  Chapped lips kissed each of your knuckles like you were something precious, something to behold.  “I didn’t think the five minutes or so before the meeting counted…  But I’d still like to take you on that date, if you’ll let me.”

“That sounds nice,” you said, a grin twinging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, sitting up a bit as his fingers brushed against your forehead.

“Yeah.”  A giggle escaped your lips as he playfully tackled you, starting yet another round as his hips rolled down against yours.

The next morning, you woke up alone.  The sheets beside you were mussed, though the space James had been occupying was still a bit warm.

Jazz music floated down the hall, through the cracked door, and you could vaguely hear the clinking of pans.

It took you a minute to gather the will to get yourself out of bed and find your robe, but you finally did it.  As your feet hit the ground and you pushed yourself to a stand, you winced.

You had been right about feeling it in your knees.

You forced yourself to walk smoothly down the hall, despite how much it hurt.  Embarrassing yourself in front of James was the last fucking thing you wanted to do.

He was in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove and humming along with the old jazz song playing on the Bluetooth speaker.  He had a pan full of pancake batter in front of him, a whole stack he’d already made on the side.

Standing in the doorway, you couldn’t help but grin as you watched him.  He’s so handsome… and he seemed so at home in your kitchen.  In your home.

Maybe he’d like to move in…

You shook your head, knowing that it’s already too much.

But the thought was nice.

Him in his pajamas, making coffee…  Him in your shower…  Him in your bed every night…  

Yeah.  It’s a really, really nice thought.

“Hi.”

James jumped, his eyes wide as he whirled round to face you.  “Hi.  I thought I had another thirty minutes before I had to go and wake you up,” he said.  “I’m making pancakes.  For you.  For us.”  His cheeks flushed, turning a bright red as he turned back to the pan to quickly flip the pancake.  “I hope you don’t mind that I used your flour and shit…”

“Oh, no, I…  I almost never cook,” you admitted as you moved over to stand next to him, watching as he made two more pancakes.

As he carried the huge plate to the kitchen island, he teasingly grabbed your ass and squeezed.  “Maybe I’ll have to stay the night more often, if only so you get a homemade breakfast.”

It was sweet, and domestic, and somewhat terrifying.

You hadn’t had a man do anything for you like this since you were in your twenties, when your husband was still sweet and loving.

But even so, this was somehow better than anytime your husband made his famous burritos.

Maybe because James’s cooking actually tasted good.

Your first date was to a movie, a drive in.  Something that’s designed to be vintage but really just looked cheesy as all hell.

But it’s perfect.  Perfect and cheesy and romantic.

Your only complaint was that he didn’t kiss you at the door when he dropped you off.  He pressed his lips to your cheek and whispered a goodnight, and that was it.

It took two more dates within the same week for him to kiss you again.

Bright and early on the next Saturday morning, he knocked on your door, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I figured I should make up for you having to be up so early with this,” he said as he came inside, kissing you quick before moving to put the flowers in a vase.

At this point, he knew your house almost as well as you did.  It felt good, when you two moved around like you were part of a team.

“Have you gotten your coffee this morning?” You asked, already pouring two travel mugs full of the good stuff.

He came up behind you, kissing your shoulder.  “I have, but you know I’ll never say no to more, doll.”

The rest of the group eyed you curiously as you got out of the same car, a few elbow nudges and whispers in the air.

“At least I know no old ass dickheads are gonna come hit on my girlfriend,” James growled in your ear, his calloused flesh hand squeezing your hip.

“Jamie…,” you whined, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  No one had ever claimed you in such a way that made you feel so desired and… and worthy.

James made you feel worthy.

Which is something you’d only ever really gotten from your daughter.

It sent a bolt of arousal through you, and you were tempted to drag him back to the car so you could bring him right back home and do something about it.

Also…  Girlfriend?  Were you his girlfriend now?  Officially?

That just made you wanna find somewhere to fuck him even more.

But alas, you pushed the thought away as the lot of you boarded one of those white airport vans that took you out of the city to the closest state park.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out as you stared out the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass.  The morning air was a bit chillier than it had been lately, signaling the coming onslaught of winter.

Maybe Bucky would wanna make hot cocoa together… go sledding…  Would him, Josephine, and Danny would all come over for Christmas and New Years and—

Would he even want to meet Josephine?

Would Josie wanna meet him?

She had no idea that you’d found a—A boyfriend?

“Not as beautiful as you,” Bucky murmured against the shell of your ear as his vibranium fingers intertwined with yours and squeezed.  His stubble tickled your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, watching the passing scenery with you.  “I’m really glad I met you, doll…”

“Me, too,” you said, grinning as you squeezed his hand back and leaned your head against his.

It was strange, falling so hard for someone so quick after everything you’d been through.

But you had a gut feeling.  One that you had never had with your ex husband.

James was a good one.  A really, really good one.

That reminded you.

When were you meant to tell him about all the shit you’d been through?

Despite the amount of time you had spent together already, you hadn’t found the courage for it.

Soon, you decided.

But first, you had to get through the damn hike.

Bucky was glued to your side the entire time, even though you were a lot worse at hiking than he was.  He would hold your hand, guiding you anytime there was a fallen tree or a creek.  His blue eyes were soft as he murmured encouragement, quietly praising your every move.

It was intoxicating.

So when you two fell behind from the group, watching them go around a curve and down a hill, you dragged James behind a large rock formation.

“Baby doll?  Darling, what the hell are you doing?” He laughed as you pressed a fierce kiss to his lips.

“Can’t a girl be spontaneous?” You teased as you dropped to your knees, ignoring the way a twig was poking into your left knee.  “Need to taste you.”

His eyes locked on you as you worked at his jeans, getting them down and off, his nails scratching at your scalp as he got a good grip on your head.  “Fuck…  Are you really this needy for me, angel?  Fuck, you’re so god damn gorgeous…  Look at you.”

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you finally freed his length, a grin on your lips as you wrapped your hand around him and slowly stroked him.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back as your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.  “Fucking shit…  Good girl…  Suck me off real good, baby.”

The group probably would notice your absence, not that you particularly cared.

Not when you had your man so weak for you.  And all you’d had to do was get on your knees.

His metal and flesh hands guided you to take more of him in, going at a slow pace so as not to hurt you.  He was so big there was no way you’d get all of him down your throat but what you couldn’t take in your mouth, you pleasured with your hands.

Pleasuring your partner like this was addicting.  You’d never felt the desire—no, the incessant need—to please your ex husband.  All you could think about was getting Bucky off, making him feel so good that he couldn’t see or walk straight.

You choked around him as you took him as deep as possible, your eyes glassy.  When you popped off, you stroked him as you moved down to carefully suck at his balls, fighting a grin as he gasped, his hips stuttering.  Before he could orgasm, you took him back in your mouth, wanting to swallow him down.

“Fuck, fuck—  Oh, shit…  Baby—  I’m gonna…  I’m gonna—”  Bucky broke off with a shout as he came, spilling down your throat.  His large hands stroked your cheeks as you swallowed all of it, barring the little bit that had gotten on your lower lip.  “You did so good, darling,” he cooed as he helped you stand, pressing you against the rock behind him as he kissed you.  “Are you okay?  I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“No, you didn’t,” you said, a faint smile on your lips as you helped him put himself back away.  “You were perfect, James…”

When you finally caught up to the group, a few of the others shot you knowing looks.

But Bucky just had a satisfied smirk on his lips, his hand tightly intertwined with yours even as you flushed in embarrassment.

“Once we get home, it’s your turn,” he whispered in your ear as you all headed back for the van.

Your relationship with James was… wonderful.

It was easy in a way you’d never had before.

Within just two months, he was living at your house almost full time, to the point where you’d been thinking about asking him to move in.

It was like you two were magnets.  Even when you both had work to do, you did it in the same room, slowly gravitating towards each other until you were sitting close, your foot running up his calf.

And he’d gotten you to start writing.

“It’s your dream, doll.  You’re never too old to chase your dreams,” he said one night as you two laid in bed.  His metal fingers were tracing shapes on your spine, a chill from the cracked window ruffling his sweaty hair.  “If you don’t mind me asking…  Why did you stop in the first place?”

Ah.

The conversation you’d been avoiding for so long.

Sitting up, you pressed your hands to your face as you tried to find the words to say.  “Um…  I was married before…  I know you know, but, uh…”  Your fingers fiddled together nervously.  You swallowed around the lump in your throat.  “My husband…  He wasn’t…  He wasn’t nice.  At all.”

Bucky immediately sat up behind you, his vibranium hand resting flat on your back to reassure you that he was there, and to give you something to focus on while you spoke.  He didn’t need to speak for you to know.  He was there and he wasn’t running.

“I married him young… and I had Josephine young…  He’d always been so… possessive, but I just considered it protective,” you continued, pulling strength from his touch to keep on going.  You needed to tell him this.  You needed him to understand.  “Then after Josie was born, he started getting violent.  He’d always been mean, but he’d never hit me until after I gave birth…”

James was tense behind you, slowly scooting over so he could wrap his arms around you, his legs resting on either side of yours as he held you.  He needed you close.  Needed to know you were safe in his arms and that man was long gone.

“Put me in the hospital a few times…  He at least didn’t do it in front of Josie.  That’s the one thing I asked of him that he listened to.”  You couldn’t help but snort as you slowly relaxed back against him.  “She always thought all the bruises and shit was just a side effect of how clumsy I am…  But she came home one day during college, to surprise us…  She walked in on him holding a frying pan above his head, about to swing again.  She jumped in between us and told him if he ever touched me again, she’d kill him.”  You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as his lips pressed to your bare shoulder.  It was soothing, feeling his skin against yours.  “She moved me out of that house and into her apartment, helped me get the divorce, get back on my feet…”

“Remind me to tell Josephine thank you,” he said quietly as he squeezed you close.  “Thank you for telling me, doll…  I…  I can’t imagine how hard that was…  But he’ll never touch you again.  No one will ever touch you again if you don’t want it.”

“I know.”

He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.  “I love you.  So much…”

A peace settled over you as you rested your head back against his, allowing yourself to truly fall into him, to relax.  “And I love you…”

After that night, Bucky slept over at your place five to six nights a week, only going home to get more clothes and do his laundry really, even though you’d told him a million times he could do it at your place.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear one morning, pushing your hair away from your face.  “Time to get up…  I’ve got breakfast ready for you…”

Groaning, you tried to pull him down for more cuddle time, but he wasn’t having it.  He always woke up before you, too many years a soldier coming into play.  He’d go for a run and make breakfast before waking you up.

“Come on, doll,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he got you to sit up, your vision blurry from sleep still.  “Medicine,” he said, pressing your pills into your palm and putting a glass of water in your other. 

Ever since he’d found out about your prescriptions and how you had a hard time remembering to take them, he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you did, every morning and night without fail.

“What’d you make this morning?” You asked sleepily after swallowing your pills, letting him pull you to your feet.  His t-shirt clung to you as you followed him down the hall.  Your hand was tucked into his as you rounded the corner to the kitchen.

What neither of you had heard was the sound of the front door opening.

“Mama?!  What the hell?!” Josephine demanded, standing in the kitchen with Danny right behind her.  “Who the fuck is this?!  What is he doing here?!”

Oh.

Yeah.

You’d neglected to tell your daughter, afraid of how she might take it.

“Hello.  I’m James.  Or Bucky,” your boyfriend said as he held out his hand to you, clearly unashamed and standing his ground even though he was only wearing a pair of pajama pants.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Your daughter repeated angrily, ignoring his hand.

“Josie,” Danny began, trying to soothe her.

But your daughter was nothing but determined when she was in her protective mode.

Before you could open your mouth, Bucky supplied, “I’m her boyfriend.”

You felt a flush coming over you as she stared at the two of you, slack-jawed.  “He is,” you said, wrapping both of your arms around his metal one.  You were so nervous, you were shaking.

“When did this happen?!” She demanded, beginning to pace back and forth around the kitchen.

“Um…  The first meeting at the bar… for the club,” you said.  Seeing her so upset made your anxiety spike, and you knew James could feel it, could hear the way your heart rate increased exponentially.

Josephine whirled on you, her eyes—so much like yours—wide with disbelief.  No.  Betrayal.  “You’ve been seeing someone for almost three months and you didn’t tell me?”

“I…”  Tears pricked your eyes as you tightened your grip on Bucky’s arm.  This was not the way you wanted them meeting to go.  “I was scared… of how you’d react…”

At that moment, Bucky turned to meet your eyes, his forehead almost pressing against yours.  “Darling, I feel like this is a conversation you two should have alone, yeah?  So I’m gonna take—Danny, right?  Yeah—Danny to the living room with some coffee so we can get to know each other, okay?”

After a nod, and a squeeze of his hand, he got two mugs of coffee and led your daughter’s girlfriend to the living room.  You could see them sitting down from the corner of your eyes, but you were much too focused on Josephine.

“Mama, I—”

“I love him,” you said, before she could say anything more.

Her eyes were shining, locked on you as she waited for you to speak.  In her gut, she knew this was something you needed to get out.

“I love him more than I’ve ever loved a man.  More than I loved your father,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “And I know…  I know you’re as protective as you are because you saw how he treated me.  You saw how much I hid that he was hurting you, but Jamie isn’t like that.”  Your fingers fiddled as you tried to keep yourself from pacing.  “He’s kind and adoring and gentle and…  and he loves me.  More than I thought anyone could ever love me.  And I know you feel like you need to take care of me and I am so grateful.  And I still need you.  Everyday.  But Bucky…  I love him.  I love him and he loves me and we take care of each other.”

Josephine reached out, slowly taking your hands in hers.  “He…  He makes you happy?  He takes care of you and you’re safe?” She asked, voice trembling as a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Yeah.  He takes real good care of me,” you insisted with a weak laugh.  “And I’ve never been so happy before, honey.  I promise.”

“Okay…,” she said, taking a deep breath.  “I’m still giving him the shovel talk.”

Bucky looked up as Josephine entered the living room, looking much calmer.  He wasn’t sure what you’d said, but it had seemed to placate her for the time being.

“Can we talk outside?” She asked him, keeping her chin high.

God, she looked so much like you.

He nodded stiffly, getting to his feet and leaving his mug behind as he followed her to the front door and out onto the porch.  The former super soldier watched as she paced back and forth, biting her thumb.  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

Josie stopped in her tracks, listening quietly.

“Your mama loves you something fierce.”  Nervously rubbing his hands on his pajama pants, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous meeting a girl’s family.

Though, he supposed it was a bit different when it was meeting your girlfriend’s daughter.

“And I love her.”

Your daughter, your mini me, stared him directly in the eyes.  “I’m sure she’s told you about my father.  What he did.”

“She did.”

“So you know that if you put one fucking foot out of line, I’ll filet you?”

“I do.”

She eyed him for a long moment.  “What are you in this for?  What’s the long term?” She asked.  “I’ve heard of elders just… settling for someone because they don’t wanna be alone in their twilight years.  Is that what this is?”

Bucky tried really hard not to feel a little bit offended.  He wasn’t that old.  “I’ve been alive since 1917,” he said slowly.  “I have no doubt you know who I am.  But I’ve been alive a hundred and something years, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way your mom does.”  His heart clenched inside his chest as he thought of you, seeing your shy smile in the mornings, how you clung to him when you went out in public, the sound of your voice as you read an excerpt of your writing to him, so nervous about what he would think.  “And I…  I can say that everything I’ve been through…  Everything I’ve ever been through was worth it, because I got to meet her.  And I get to be hers for the years I have left.”

She looked absolutely speechless.  “Good,” she said, coughing to clear her throat.  “Good.  I just…  I can’t see her get hurt again.  Not after everything.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan to,” he said, his mouth dry.  “I…  I actually have something to ask you about…  Been waiting to meet you to talk to you about it…”

Inside, you paced the kitchen and living room, going back and forth and back and forth, sometimes moving to the window to try to hear what they were saying.  But they were keeping it all very hushed.

“It’s gonna be fine, mama,” Danny said, standing up and moving to wrap her arms around you.  “Josie’ll see how much you two love each other, and it’ll be fine.  She’s just gotta have her protective moment.  You know how she is.”

Sniffling, you hugged her tightly.  “I shouldn’t have kept it from her for so long…  I was just so nervous…  They both…  They both mean the world to me.”  You paused, snorting.  “I knew you’d approve of him.  I wasn’t so worried about you.”

“Oh, please, the way that man looked at you?” She said, laughing as she kissed your forehead.  “Mama, there’s no way in hell that man would ever hurt you.  He looks at you like you’re his entire universe.”

Heart warm, you glanced towards the front door, wishing they’d just come inside already.  “I’ve never felt something like this…  But fuck, if the whole shit show that’s my life wasn’t worth it for him…  I wouldn’t change a thing, as long as it means I get to end up with him.”

You broke out of her grasp as the front door opened and they came back inside, looking relaxed and even… happy?  “Well?  You aren’t gonna kill him?” You asked Josie as you moved to James, heart racing.

“Nah…,” she said, giving him what seemed like a secretive smile.  “As far as dads go…  He’d be pretty nice to have.”

“What?” You said, brows furrowing as you looked between the two of them.

Bucky chuckled, winking at Josephine as he led you to the stove where breakfast was still waiting, making you waddle as his arms wrapped around you from behind.  “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, baby doll.  It’s all good.”

You still couldn’t help but feel like the two were planning something as he made your plate for you, cutting up your pancakes and filling up your coffee.  “Why do I feel like you two are gonna end up ganging up on me?”

“Oh, come on, mama,” Josephine said with a smirk on her face.  Her and Danny had made their own plates and joined you and Bucky in the living room.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?”

“Yeah,” James said as he fed you a bite of pancake.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?” He asked, before leaning in and stealing a kiss.  “I love you.”

You’d never felt more relaxed, surrounded by the people you loved the most in the world.  What you’d said to Josephine had been true.

“I love you more,” you said, leaning back in for another kiss.

You’d never been so happy.

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 5

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon except for a few random points mentioned this time. It’s mainly fluff, lemon zest 🍋 and a bit of angst. There’s also some Billy POV in there. The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: Some drinking & swearing.

(My GIF)

A grin curved his lips upwards, “How d’you like your eggs in the mornin’, ma’am?”

“Over easy,” you grinned back. He tapped his shoulder a couple of times with the kitchen spoon, “Ummm.. how about scrambled? And then I’ll give you the “over easy” version afterwards.”

That damn smirk of his, you thought, it’s downright dangerous.

The two of you were sitting at your kitchen island, eating breakfast. The scrambled eggs were really tasty, you complimented him. He’d preened a little, “I’m quite a good cook, sweetheart,” he said, “learned how to look after myself quite early on in life.”

Suddenly he put his fork down, and looked over at you. His face was serious, and you saw some sadness in his eyes. “My mother abandoned me when I was a really young kid. She was a junkie, and couldn’t look after herself never mind me, so I suppose I should thank her. I’d probably be dead otherwise. Got put in a group home, stayed there until I aged out and went straight into the Marines. And got my degree on the government’s dime.”

Your hand moved to cover his, “Billy, you’ve done so well, and you’ve achieved it all on your own. I’m proud of you, and I hope you’re proud of yourself too.” He beamed at you, eyes crinkling at the corners, “Yeah... yeah, I am. Thanks, angel, I appreciate you sayin’ that. I wanted to tell you about it, wanted to be honest with you. In case when you saw the suits, the car, the penthouse and all, you thought I was some kind of privileged trust fund kid.”

He looked down, “There’s a stigma about growin’ up in the system, y’know? I wanted to get it out on the table so you know who I really am and where I came from.”

“I don’t care about that, Billy.” He nodded, thumb stroking your hand which was still on top of his. “I really hoped that you wouldn’t ... but I wanted to be sure, and I’m really glad you feel like that. Also I needed you to know that I’m bein’ honest with you.”

You thought you saw a closed-off look on his face for a moment, but then it was gone and he smiled over at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You had spent the rest of Sunday together, lazing around, watching various shows on Netflix before venturing out for a late lunch to a local diner. Billy had eventually headed home after another steamy session in the bedroom, regretful about not spending the night, sighing that he had a really early start in the morning, a ‘job’ he couldn’t tell you anything about.

He’d explained a bit more about his work earlier in the day while you were eating in the diner. How a lot of it was classified as it was military or political in nature, so he couldn’t go into detail. You’d nodded, and said you understood. But you’d asked some questions nevertheless; how many of the assignments did he go on himself, just how dangerous they were, had he or his men ever been injured.

You got the impression that, although he couldn’t tell you much about who was involved or why they needed protection details, he was pleased you were showing an interest in his work.

The two of you agreed that you’d meet up during the week, Billy saying he’d text you to confirm when and where as he wasn’t sure how long this job would last, maybe at least a couple of days.

He’d insisted on putting his numbers into your phone himself, so you’d unlocked it and handed it to him, wandering back to your bedroom to put some more clothes on. Shortly afterwards he’d kissed you long and hard and made his way downstairs to his car, and you’d watched from your balcony as he drove away. Then you’d laughed at yourself - you were acting like some medieval damsel watching her knight disappear off to war or something.

Sliding the glass door closed, you went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of wine. The apartment suddenly felt very empty without Billy in it. How quickly you’d got used to him being there.

You wandered across to the sofa with your newly-poured glass of wine, noticing your phone on the coffee table. Oh yeah, Billy had added his numbers. A sudden twinge of insecurity hit you. What if he hadn’t actually put his direct numbers in there, and just pretended to? You sat down, looking at it lying there. I mean, it wasn’t like you couldn’t track him down at Anvil, but you would no doubt have to go through a receptionist and you could be endlessly stone-walled.

You eventually picked up the phone and unlocked it. Scrolling to your contacts, you suddenly burst out laughing. Billy had put his numbers in there and had also taken a selfie, him smouldering into the camera. He’d attached it to the contact details with a description.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy drove away from her apartment, truly wishing he could’ve stayed over again.

But then he’d shaken his head slightly, laughing to himself; she’d definitely got one thing right - he was a big sap. Since when did he find himself almost playing house with a woman? Telling her she was his girlfriend - as she’d put it - after five minutes? He was a one-and-done kinda guy!

But then Billy Russo admitted to himself that something had hit him smack in the heart when he’d first seen her, sitting there looking stunning and somehow fragile with that creep trying to come onto her. Well turns out she wasn’t fragile in the least! However when those beautiful eyes had met his... well, he was a goner. Solid gone. And then he’d pursued her like a lovestruck idiot.

He hadn’t ever seriously thought about love. Or believed in it, for that matter. Certainly not when he’d been bedding all those women when he’d been on leave or since he’d left the Marines. All that shit just wasn’t for him. And now? Yeah, not so sure.

Billy almost felt like he was under some kind of spell, it had hit him so quickly. Yeah, like she’d enchanted him or something ridiculous, straight out of a Disney or Harry Potter movie. Was this love, then? His stomach clenched every time he saw her, he just couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanted to be with her all the time, hell he was even jealous of Jake though he wasn’t a threat. Was he? No, surely not. And what about Steve, the other one? Yeah, there he was doing it again - unreasonable jealousy.

And when they’d first slept together, he felt like he’d finally understood what making love meant.

Billy Russo, who until a few days ago had spent most of his leisure time in life actively fucking women - how he’d always described it to himself and others - was now a confirmed big sap. He chuckled to himself.

He suddenly remembered ripping the shit out of a young Marine in his squad who’d come back off leave totally besotted with some girl. The kid had confessed (stupid move) to all the guys that they’d made love, a distant and dreamy look in his eyes. At the time, Billy had scoffed at him and endlessly humiliated him about it. In an affectionate way of course, he told himself.

But he felt guilty about that. Who’s the one with the distant and dreamy gaze now, Russo?

In all truth, Billy felt like he was having some kind of out of body experience. As if Previous Billy Russo was looking down in horror at his new self, yelling at him to get his fucking head back on straight. But New Billy Russo wasn’t listening because, well because he realised he liked feeling this way.

And he thought that she felt the same. He knew she was fighting it and wouldn’t admit anything to him, but there were little tells that had given her away. He decided he’d stay on his best behaviour, just keep trying to win her over, and he felt in his bones that they would be together.

But he did feel a sting of guilt. He had been honest with her, but he’d also been selective with what he’d told her about Anvil, how it all started, and this ongoing shit he and Frank were still embroiled in. One day... one day, and hopefully soon, he could tell her absolutely everything.

His phone, clipped to the dash, vibrated.

He rolled his eyes when he saw the caller ID, hit the button and answered it.

“Dinah... what can I do for you?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You, meanwhile, had just finished your second glass of wine and were admitting to yourself that you were really missing Billy. Oh this is bad, your brain yelled at you, very bad. You’d only known this guy for a few days and you were falling for him. Or - okay - had already fallen for him. It scared you, quite honestly.

He was charming, funny, handsome, sexy. An amazing lover. He’d been disarmingly honest with you about his past, but... but what? Why was there a ‘but’? Because there was something niggling at the back of your mind. Just a couple of expressions you’d seen on his face, quickly gone. An indication of more happening just underneath the surface than you knew about. Billy had a distinct air of danger about him, and you wondered what else was going on inside that dark head of his.

You’d fallen for him, yes... but you were also going to remain wary of him, until you were certain you knew everything you could about him.

Reaching over and pulling your laptop towards you across the coffee table, you typed Billy’s name into Google.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next morning, Billy parked his car and walked into Anvil. His reception staff wished him a respectful Good Morning, he nodded to them and headed upstairs to his office. Frank was already there, reading a newspaper.

“Mornin’ Bill,” he said, looking up. “Frankie,” nodded Billy, “want a coffee?” and kept on walking towards the coffee machine in the corner. “Nah, just had one, thanks.”

He poured out an Americano for himself, then chuckled loudly. Frank quirked an eyebrow at him, and Billy shrugged back. “I met someone last week. She owns two cafés, and she’s a coffee snob. Gonna refine my palate, she said.”

Frank looked back down to his paper before commenting, “I’m impressed you know that much about her, Bill. Didn’t think you bothered cos you usually cut & run.” Billy smirked, knowing he couldn’t dispute what Frank had just said, but he was going to enjoy the next slice of the conversation. Even just to see the expression on Frank’s face.

“I....like her. A lot. I want something with her.” “Something?” Frank chortled, “...you mean, like a relationship, Bill?” He looked closely at Billy, saw the shit-eating grin he had on his face and his jaw dropped. “You do, don’t you?! Fuckin’ hell! Never thought I’d see the day, Russo.” Billy burst out laughing.

“Well, that makes two of us, Frankie. But...” he spread his hands out to either side of him, “...it is what it is. And I’ll fill you in on all the details later. Now, this thing with Madani and Homeland - let’s get it nailed down.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

That same morning, you sat at your desk and slowly twirled from side to side in your chair. You sipped your cappuccino, and thought about Billy.

Little cousin had done you a favour this time and earlier on had delved into her company’s database, digging out some further information on Billy and Anvil which Google couldn’t provide you with. All it had given you was the bare minimum of the company’s founding date and numerous photos of Billy looking hot in his designer suits.

She told you she’d heard of him, and had also seen him at several events similar to the one you’d attended. You’d admitted you were seeing him, and she’d firstly screeched down the phone at you, nearly bursting your eardrum, before saying, “Now see, if you hadn’t gone in my place you wouldn’t have met him!” “Yeah, yeah, alright. Tell me what you’ve got for me.”

In a more serious tone, she said, “Just be careful though, his company seems a little... well, shady let’s just say. I mean, in the security business,” her voice lowered, “there’s usually some dodgy dealings or other going on. But him and his colleagues seem to have got themselves in some deep water with two federal agencies. I’ll email this stuff to you now and you’ll see what I mean.” You thanked her and hung up before she could tell you that now you owed her another favour.

You’d read through the attachments she’d sent you, and your eyes had got wide as you read that Billy and Anvil had originally been funded by a shadowy CIA guy, who’d then been killed in a gun battle between un-named protagonists. You sussed out that Anvil must’ve been one of those involved, as Billy and his friend Frank had been arrested and interrogated by Homeland Security before being released without charge. That struck you as a bit odd, but there were no more details available.

Your phone had chosen that moment to buzz with a FaceTime call from the man himself. You’d hesitated then accepted the call, and Billy’s handsome face popped up in front of you, with a wide smile plastered on it. You could see he was in his car. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” he said in a low sexy voice, and you felt your stomach tighten with excitement. This guy... the effect he had on you....!

You’d smiled and replied, “Morning, Billy.” He tilted his head towards you, dark eyes drawing you in, “Missin’ me? Because I’m missing you.” Shaking your head, smirking, you said, “We only saw each other a few hours ago so no, I’m not.” A cheeky grin from him this time, “Don’t believe you, angel, I think you can’t wait to see me again.” “You’re such a cocky bastard, Billy,” you laughed, “Why are you calling, exactly?”

His smile was a genuine one as he said, “I just wanted to see you before I head off to this job. Not sure when I’ll be able to call next. Remember - I’ll let you know as soon as I can when we can meet up this week.” You nodded, “Yeah, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.” He blew you a kiss, saying “Bye, angel,” before he rang off.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

One of your friends had called shortly afterwards to ask if you wanted to meet up for lunch, as you hadn’t seen each other in quite a while. Deciding that you could do with some girl time, you arranged to meet her in a steak house near the Chrysler Building, and then decided you’d better get some work done before you headed out for your long lunch hour.

The two of you had met up just outside the restaurant and had gone in chatting away to each other. Being shown to your table, you sat down only to spot Billy Russo walking in behind a small dark-haired woman. Your mouth dropped open, and your eyes took in every detail of her. She was pretty, with big dark eyes, olive skin and wavy hair in a shoulder-length bob. Billy, you noted, had his hand on her lower back, guiding her to their table, just as he had with you when you went for your first drink with him.

You leant forward to your friend, “I’m so sorry about this but we’re gonna have to go somewhere else.” She looked concerned, “What’s wrong?” “Someone I need to avoid just came in,” you explained, “c’mon, I’ll tell them I’ve had an emergency at work or something.” You both stood up, and you fled from the restaurant before you repeated your actions at that house party, which had got you arrested. You didn’t want to end up in jail this time just because of that jerk and his little lady.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy looked up as two women who’d been sitting near him stood up and started rushing towards the door. Weird, he thought, they hadn’t even been served judging by the menus still laying on their place settings. He looked back at them, and one of them turned back briefly to her friend behind her as they exited the premises.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. It was her. His angel. Oh fuck! Did she..? Yes, she must’ve seen him and... he glanced at Madani across the table from him, reading through the menu choices. She glanced up, smirking at Billy but it quickly dropped off her face, when she saw the expression on his.

“Billy?” she said, but he’d dumped his napkin onto his plate by now and was standing up.

“Sorry, Dinah... I gotta go.” An annoyed look on her face, she growled, “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not. I... there’s someone I gotta catch up with, and I just saw them leaving.” He walked away from their table, and towards the door of the restaurant. As he did so he heard Madani say in a harsh voice, “Is it a woman, Russo?” but ignored her.

He made it out onto the street, looking around him in all directions, heart sinking as he couldn’t see her anywhere.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23

[iamakiller]

owl always love you

Wordcount: 2000

Notes & Warnings:  It has been far too long since I shared any of my fiction with you, hasn’t it?  Well, how about five unhappy memories of Valentines past, and one that went perfectly to plan (... or did it?)

As for warnings, there is no sex at all, but there is an unfortunate accident, and a hint of murder. Hmm, I must be going soft in my old age ... 

Five unhappy memories ...

1.

Charlie is four.

Today feels like a very special day.  There were flowers and a card on the kitchen table this morning, and no arguments over breakfast.  It was almost like last night’s fight didn’t happen.

At preschool, the classroom has been decorated with red and pink hearts because it’s Valentine’s Day. The teacher reads the class a picture book about an owl who was looking for love, and then they all do a craft based on the story.  The teacher has drawn the owl’s face and body on card for everyone, but they have to color it in and try to write a message on the owl’s tummy.  Charlie writes “Owl always love you Mommy” in purple crayon – his mother’s favorite color.

The next part of the craft is very hard.  They have to trace the outline of their hands onto card, color it in, and then cut it out. They stick the hands onto the owl with glue, and fold them over, and it looks kind of like wings.  Charlie is very proud of himself, because he did it without any help, and unlike the boy who sits next to him, he didn’t try to eat any of the glue.

At going home time, he presents the card to his mother.  She glances at it, and puts it in her handbag.

“Do you like it, Mommy?” Charlie asks, but she doesn’t say anything.  Maybe she didn’t hear him.

The next morning, he finds it in the trash.  

Oh.

Well, it wasn’t very good, he realizes.  His coloring wasn’t neat enough, and one of the thumbs was missing because of a mishap he had when he was cutting it out.  Maybe if he’d tried harder, she would have liked it.

Maybe if he tries harder, she’ll like him ...

2.

Charlie is eight.  

Valentine’s Day has been the main topic of conversation on the playground ever since the beginning of February. It’s not like anybody ever talks to Charlie, but there are some advantages to being invisible.  He hears everything.  He knows exactly who is getting a Valentine, and – most crucially – who isn’t.

On the night of February thirteenth, he stays up very late.  It isn’t like anyone is checking what time he goes to bed anyway, so he pulls together the materials he’s “borrowed” from his teacher over the past few days, and works until the early hours of the morning.

The next day, everyone in the class has at least one little handmade card on their desk by the end of the day.  

… except Charlie.

And that’s one of the disadvantages of being invisible.

Nobody knows he exists ...

3.

Charlie is thirteen.

According to his research, it is puberty that has turned the majority of his classmates into mindless, giggling idiots.  Thankfully, he seems to be immune to this plague, and the hours he spends staring at the long, golden hair of the girl who sits in front of him in class is perfectly normal, thank you very much.

Melissa is the prettiest girl in the class by far.  Charlie thinks she looks just like an elven queen ... if Galadriel had a Midwestern accent and a mother who was the head of the PTA.  She is also constantly accompanied by a group of four uglier girls, who all stare at Charlie as he makes his approach, the poem he wrote for her clutched in a hand that seems to be permanently sweaty these days.

She accepts the token of his affection with the carelessness of one who is accustomed to such things, and doesn’t even say thank you.  At lunchtime, Charlie overhears her reading excerpts of it to her gaggle of friends.  She tosses her lovely, blonde hair back, and laughs scornfully, before tearing it up into tiny pieces and leaving it on her lunch tray for the cafeteria staff to clear away.  

And suddenly, Charlie realizes how ugly she is.

At the end of February, poor Melissa has a terrible accident.  One of the teachers finds her unconscious at the bottom of the stairwell hours after school has finished for the day.  She must have tripped and fallen down the stairs somehow.

She makes a full recovery, but she never remembers what happened that day ...

4.

Charlie is seventeen.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the dance?” asks cousin Pat from where he’s leaning in the doorway of Charlie’s bedroom.  He’s dressed to impress, and Charlie can smell the terrible cologne he’s wearing from all the way on the other side of the room.  “I can wait for you to get changed, I don’t mind.”

“I’m too busy,” says Charlie, staring up at the ceiling.  Soon, it will be time for him to turn over and stare at the wall.  “And I don’t like parties.”

“I don’t like parties either,” Pat reminds him, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blue button-down.  “But you’ll never meet someone special if you don’t leave your room.”

Charlie responds by making a noise like someone being sick, and turns over to show Pat his back.  “Bye.  Have fun at the shitty Valentine’s dance.”  He can feel his cousin’s gaze on the back of his head – can picture the annoying look of concern on his face – but he doesn’t move or say anything, and finally he hears the door close, and then Pat’s footsteps lumbering down the stairs.

Fuck Valentine’s Day, Charlie thinks.  Fuck parties, and fuck ever finding someone special.

5.

Charlie is 27.

This might be his first ever Valentine’s Day in a relationship, but he’s done his research into What Women Want, and blown a small fortune on trying to make the day special.  A hundred red roses, delivered to Nicole on set.  Reservations at the hottest restaurant in town.  A pair of Chanel earrings, so expensive he actually choked on his own saliva when they told him the price, and had to be brought a glass of water to help him recover.

At the restaurant, Nicole opens the earrings, and stares at them for a long time.  Her expression is completely unreadable, which is usually the case with her.  They have been dating for two and a half months, and with every day that passes, Charlie feels like he knows less about her, which should surely be impossible.

“Don’t you like them?” Charlie asks, after the silence has gone on for so long that even the people at the next table have glanced over to see what’s going on. 

Nicole closes the lid of the box with a snap, and looks up at him.  “So you aren’t going to propose to me, then?”

Charlie blinks.  “I – Wait, what?”

And then it all goes south very quickly from there.

The next day, there’s a blind item online about it:

Which C-list celebrity currently filming a procedural drama in New York was seen arguing with an unknown male at a local celeb hotspot last night?  With a string of broken engagements already behind her, it looks like this feisty young starlet is single once more after dousing her hapless companion in Veuve Clicquot!

Unknown? Hapless?  How rude!

He complains at length about the injustice of it all to the cocktail waitress he brought home last night, after he had sloped off to a bar to drown his sorrows and soothe the burn of his humiliation.  Naturally, she has nothing to add to the conversation – having passed away six hours or so ago – but he appreciates her presence nevertheless.  So much so that before he prepares her for disposal, he takes out her fake diamond earrings, and replaces them with the Chanel ones.

“I know I’m a day late,” he tells her.  “But … happy Valentine’s Day.”

It’s the thought that counts, anyway ...

And then ...

Charlie is 37.

He is awakened at 5:30 a.m. on Valentine’s Day morning by his son barging in to the master bedroom.  Without saying anything, Henry climbs onto the bed next to him, and falls asleep almost instantly.  Charlie throws an arm over him, in the hopes of stopping him from tossing and turning like he often does.

Behind him, there’s a rustle of sheets  “What’s happening?” Kitten asks, her voice thick with sleep.

“We have our usual Sunday morning visitor,” Charlie mumbles. “It’s still early, go back to sleep.”

A leg hooks over his, an arm curls around his middle, and Kitten lets out a happy sigh before falling asleep again.

Charlie closes his eyes, but it barely seems like a moment has passed before he’s being shaken awake by a very excited Henry.  “Dad.  DAD! Can we give Britt the card now?”

The digital display on the clock says eight, still an ungodly hour to be awake on a Sunday, but when Charlie rolls over, Kitten is already sitting up against the headboard, with her phone out.  “A card?” she says, feigning surprise, as though she wasn’t banned from the kitchen for four hours the previous day, and hadn’t noticed the layer of glitter Henry was covered in when he emerged, which necessitated a dreaded bath.

“If we must,” grumbles Charlie, astonished at the speed with which Henry scrambles out of bed and sprints out of the room.  He thunders downstairs, in search of the spot where they left their work of art to dry out after its completion.

Charlie rolls over onto his back, and stares up at Kitten.  “Remember last year, when we stayed in bed all day?” he asks, mournfully.  “That was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

“Mm, same.”  Kitten leans down to kiss him, probably intending it to be just a peck on the lips.  But Charlie wraps his hand around the back of her head to keep her there, deepening the kiss until a gagging sound from the doorway interrupts them and they break apart to find Henry watching them from the doorway, looking slightly green.

“You guys are gross!” he scolds them, in a tone not dissimilar to Sandra when she is upset about something.  

Charlie sits up, and scowls. “That’s not in keeping with the spirit of the day.”

“The spirit of the day is chocolate,” says Henry, approaching Kitten’s side of the bed, with one hand behind his back.  “Ta-daaaaa!” he shouts, and pulls out the card, waving it in her face.  A hefty sprinkle of glitter falls on the sheets, and Charlie winces.

“This looks very impressive,” says Kitten, glancing sideways at Charlie to check his reaction to the glitter, and stifling a smile.  “Can I take a closer look?”

On closer inspection, the card is very large, and is a rather well-drawn and extremely glittery looking owl which looks to be a combination of about three different species.  Its wings – which look suspiciously like the outline of Charlie’s hands – are wrapped around itself.

“Open it, open it,” says Henry, climbing onto the bed, and bouncing slightly, causing more glitter to be dislodged.

When Kitten carefully opens the wings, she finds another, smaller pair of hand-shaped wings underneath.  “Yours?” she asks Henry, who nods vigorously.  When she opens those, there is a ridiculously tiny pair of hands underneath. One has been colored blue, and the other pink.  

“Little B,” says Henry.  “We looked up online how small their hands would be.  I drew them, and Dad cut them out.  He said we should do one hand in each color since we don’t know whether Little b is a boy or a girl yet.  And wait, there’s a message.  Read the message!”

“Owl always love you,” Kitten reads, her voice trembling slightly.  “From Charlie, Henry and Little B. Oh Henry, thank you!  The owl, the hands, the sweet message.  It’s perfect!”

She pulls Henry into a hug, which he tolerates for a moment or two before asking, “Can I go watch cartoons now?” with all the tact typical of an eight year-old boy.

“It was all Henry’s idea, of course,” says Charlie, once the young man in question has bounced out of the room.  He tries to brush some of the glitter off the bed, and succeeds only in getting it stuck all over his hand.  “I was but an unwitting accomplice to this madness.”

“Is that so?” asks Kitten, with a smile.  She sets the card on the nightstand so she can see it, and curls against Charlie, who wraps an arm around her shoulder, and rests his other hand on her stomach.  “You know, it reminds me of this book I read when I was little. About an owl who was searching for love.  It was a really cute story.”

“Never heard of it,” says Charlie, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.  “But it sounds like a real hoot.”

“Oh god, not the owl puns.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” says Charlie, but somehow he finds himself lapsing into silence instead of releasing the string of dreadful jokes that are on the tip of his tongue.  “Do you -” he begins, and then sighs, and runs his hand through his hair, inadvertently spreading multi-colored glitter quite liberally through it.  He chews on the inside of his cheek before continuing.  “Do you really like it?”

Is it good enough?

Am I trying hard enough?

Do you like me?

A gentle hand against his cheek brings him back to the present.  “I don’t just like it, I love it,” Kitten reassures him.  “And I love you very much, too.  I know it’s a little rough at the moment with me working from home, but I’m still feeling very lucky.  Who would have thought six months ago that we would be here?  We’ve come so far, Charlie.  I’m so proud of us.  I’m so proud of you.  Especially now you’re back in therapy again.”

Charlie holds her a little more tightly, and she tucks her head under his chin and settles her hand on his chest, over his heart, which is beating too quickly for his liking.  “I’m trying, my love,” he says softly, taking slow, deep breaths to try to control the speed of his heart.  “I never want to let you down again ...”

He closes his eyes, breathes in Kitten’s familiar, comforting scent, and tells himself that he’s just holding her, not clinging to her.  I’m okay, he tells himself, over and over again.  We’re okay.

I just have to try harder, and it will all be okay ...

[sparklesparklekoushi]

Choose Your Glucose Guardian! (Sawamura Daichi Ver.)

💕Hello! This is the first part to a fic in my captains series. I hope you like it. I really love this story and treasure it a lot, I hope that you enjoy it as much as I do! 

Minor Spoiler for the episode, The Flight of the Spineless. 

You can find the other parts of this series here: Ushijima Wakatoshi 

Tagginng @ceo-of-daichi because its Daichi 🥺💕

Without further ado, here it is!!

If y/n could turn back time, she would go back to her first year of high school. She would’ve lived  without regrets and did all the things she wanted to do. She would’ve joined the dance team earlier, she would’ve entered more competitions. She would’ve hung out with her friends more, supported them in every game they had. And most of all she would’ve followed her heart. She would’ve said yes to a boy from her high school, the muse of all her dance performances to this day. 

Oh how she wished she had let go of her fears, how she wished that she just said those simple words; “yes, I like you too.” Who knows, maybe she would be happier then than now… But, those days were in the past, but her days were nothing but downhill from high school, sadly. Sure, y/n was a good dancer, but then, the theme of longing in her dances never really made her reach her full potential. She was always stuck with the same feel, the same aura, no change, no variety. This made her somewhat, a boring dancer… something many dancers feared. As a student at a dance academy, she was once the top of her class… and now she isn’t the best. Her dances looked the same, her instructor would even suggest that she would go out and spend more time with the people around her, than to stay cooped up in the studio practicing to get better. 

Sure, she could do that, do better technical moves, have a better flow, be a lot more flexible. But that was never the problem. The problem has always been her lack of adventure and her lack of personal vibrancy. So here she sat, in front of the dance studio, waiting for her friend to walk her home as it was late at night. Sure it would’ve been a short walk or so, but she lived outside of the campus… and her best friend Hinata wouldn’t allow her to go out alone on a night like this. 

You see, y/n didn’t have enough money to get a dorm room on campus. She was raised by a single mother and she was ill. Y/n also worked part time at a local bakeshop on weekends and when she had off days or afternoons without classes to pay for her mother’s hospital bills. Not only did she have this on her plate, she also had an 8 year old sister to take care of… So at the age of 22, y/n is the only source of income for her family. 

At first she did really well, she won competitions and was even the talk of the town, but eventually she really did lose everything. She had to stay positive however, for her mother and her sister. 

“y/n!” A male voice calls out to her, snapping her out of her thoughts, Hinata Shoyo was there, panting heavily as he stood in front of her. 

She smiled “Hinata!”

He smiled widely putting his arm around her while taking her bag, “Now, let’s get you home! Your sister is waiting.”  

It was always like this, they would start on the path to her house, hand in hand as he held her things. They were both scholarship students at this school, but Hinata had so much potential, so he got a dorm room with a friend of theirs from high school, Miya Atsumu, a boy who was a year older than the two. 

Hinata was as bright as the sun, a promising and current volleyball player for a team in Japan. He was reliable, sweet, energetic and an all around sweetheart you would want to be with. He was the highlight of everyone’s days, everyone in their friend group loved him ever since they were in high school. 

First year, Karasuno High School, Class 1-5. This was a big step into the world of high school for you. First year, it left a sense of adventure and curiosity light up within you. This would be the best years of your life, you had hoped. You weren’t one to shy away from the sun, but you weren’t too reckless either. You were smart and kind, but that wasn’t the only thing that was great about you. You were born to dance, a star, a spark of joy on the stage. You couldn’t live without the music. You had always been able to dance to any type of song, any genre and you could do it. But, since it was your first year, you decided to play it safe and focus on your grades for the first semester.

So there you sat, with your headphones on as you listened to another song to choreograph for. Your feet tapping to the rhythm as your hands moved in small motions that symbolized dance moves. It was too early for most students to be there, but you wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible as it was your first day at high school. 

You eventually stood up, immersed in the music dancing to it and closing your eyes as the music flowed throughout your soul. The song was beautiful and light, a bright but sweet song that felt like the taste of first love. You danced and danced feeling the happiness flowing through the song, and eventually, it came to a stop. 

You opened your eyes to see a classmate of yours, so she seems, standing a few meters away from you, clapping. She had a beautiful smile and blonde hair, she smiled at you and clapped once more. 

You turned away to hide your blush and used your headphones as an excuse since you put them on your desk. 

The blonde girl, who is a little bit shorter than you, walked up to you and smiled, “You dance beautifully.” 

You smiled back, still a little bit flustered, “Thank you… I’m l/n y/n by the way.” 

“Yachi Hitoka, I’m from this class too.”

Eventually you learned that you two had a lot of things in common, and that you were seatmates. As the day went by, you and Yachi had become fast friends, despite her being shy when other people started coming in. 

Everyday would consist of you and Yachi hanging out happily together… all until she came rushing back to the classroom with two application forms in her hand. Both of you still didn’t have any clubs or orgs you joined so you were confused and excited that she had forms in her hands. 

“What is it Yacchan?” you asked her as you studied her worried features.

“y/n-chan they want us to be managers for the boys’ volleyball team!!!” She sighs sadly.

“What was I thinking? But then the senpai giving me instructions was so pretty that I got distracted…. If you were awake we could’ve talked to her together and maybe…”

You laughed slightly as Yachi kept going on about how she doesn’t know what to do or what she had gotten both of you into. You thought of it for a while, maybe this was the sign you needed to do things and stop studying 24/7… so it was one of the risks you actually took.

“Let’s do it, Yacchan!” You said, taking a form from her and filling it up. 

She looks at you shocked, “Eh? I thought you were going to apply to the dance team?”

You thought about it once more, “Eh, I’ll do it next year, I have 2 years left after that you know!”

She sighed and filled up her own form, knowing that she will never be able to convince you not to join. 

So on that fateful day, you became friends with the people who stand with you now. 

Hinata noticed that you had stopped replying to him about how your day was only to see you in deep thought.

“y/n? y/n-chan~~” he knew that if he called you that, there was a higher possibility that you would snap out of it and show him that cute flustered face of yours. He lived for that reaction of yours… but he would never tell you that. Or at least, he hoped, not for now. 

True enough what Hinata wished for had happened, "Yeah? Oh sorry…" your face was awfully red and you both knew it. 

He shakes his head, "It's fine, what were you thinking of?"

You sighed as puffs of clouds formed due to the cold, "I was thinking of how I first met all of you…"

He smiled a little, hiding a bit of pain that came with those memories. Because he knew that no matter what memory you had of high school you were thinking of… you would always backtrack to him. 

The person he wished would leave you and your thoughts. But he knew that he would always have a chance, as long as he was there with you and not with that man. 

"I see, were you thinking of how good looking I was then, up until now?" He joked as you made a face. 

"I swear, Atsumu is rubbing off on you." 

"Oh but that makes me funnier!" He held your hand tighter. 

Your face brightened once more in a rosy hue as you both found yourselves at your doorstep.

He smiled again and handed you your gym bag, "I'll see you on Sunday?"

"Yeah, you will. Don't worry Hinata, I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded as you said this and kissed your forehead. "Sleep well, y/n."

He watched you enter your house as you waved bye to him. He eventually walks down the street, back to the school dorms. 

You enter the house to see that your little sister had eaten the food you left for her to reheat. She left a note saying that she did not have hw and that you should rest. Your heart felt happier at the gesture. This made your resolve to do what you were about to do stronger.

But for a split second, you had thought of Hinata. 'What would he say?'

You didn't really understand how you felt about him. Whether you actually loved him or not the latter part being more confusing since you knew you were not over that person.

But either way, none of that would matter anymore. Funds were not getting easier to come by and you didn't want your friends to keep worrying and giving you money they needed as well… so you did what you thought was best. You signed up on a sugar baby app. 

You had been putting off checking the app in order to not sound desperate and to see who would actually wait. You honestly found this somewhat difficult to do at first, but your friend f/n had suggested it as a last resort. You didn’t really want to do this but she reassured you that the men on this specific app were not creeps and that they were pretty young and knew how to respect boundaries.

As you logged onto your phone you noticed one specific message that seemed to be interesting and mysterious. The man had the username onceavolleydad and he had no pictures of his actual face and name, but he had credentials and the app to prove his age and status. He was rich as he owned a chain of gyms around Japan. He also looked pretty attractive, or well, his body did. But that wasn’t what you were there for, it was his message that caught your eye. 

“(l/n) (y/n), what a pretty name for a girl who has the beauty of a lilac. I would love to know more about you and if you would at least, become someone I could talk to? I’d love to meet you on Friday night, 8pm, at a small coffee shop? I will be sending the address in the next message.”

You were interested, one because he seemed nice, and two because he mentioned your favorite flower. It could all be by chance, but you were one of those people who were interested in signs every now and then. You took a deep breath and nodded your head, you were going to do this, he was the one you were going to reply to. 

“ Hello, onceavolleydad. I would be delighted to meet with you then, maybe we could talk a little about the boundaries I have set and see where this goes?”

Within 3 minutes you get a reply; “Sure, I’ll see you later then.”

Wait… later??? You looked at your phone and noticed that it was indeed, Friday7:20 pm. With that you rushed to your room and got ready to go to the said address. You wore your best clothes, the ones that were cute and in season and penned a note to your sister saying that you had gone out with friends for a bit. 

As you walked down the street, you carried your pepper spray in your coat pocket and your phone in your other hand. You walked down street after street until you passed by your university and some other places you would normally go to. Eventually you had found the cafe, and were about to cross when some high school students started hitting on you. 

“Hey, pretty girl, mind giving me your number?” a student in their uniform smirked as they blocked your way. 

“No thanks, I’m not interested.” you said pushing them away as you try to make your way away from them. 

“C’mon beautiful lady,” one of them grabbed onto your arm as you let go of your pepper spray. 

“Let me go!” you struggled as they got closer to you. 

“Didn’t she say to let her go?” A deep voice said, you knew that voice. 

The boys let go of you and there you stood, face to face with him. 

The one and only, Sawamura Daichi.

The boy you loved and said no to in high school. 

“D-daichi-senpai?” You looked like you had seen a ghost. 

“Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute? Preferably in my car…?” he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Sure, but I’m meeting someone tonight.” You mumbled, slightly ashamed.

“I know.”

You looked up at him, “What do you mean, senpai?”

“Well for one, I’m onceavolleydad…”

You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. Sawamura Daichi, your senior, wanted you as his sugar baby. You were confused, not even mad or anything, but confused. 

“Were you stalking me? Who told you I was on the app? You don’t even know (f/n)...oh god, what if Hinata knows?” 

Your questions made you fall only for Daichi to catch you. As he was always calm, he asked you to follow him to his car. You reluctantly agreed and you both sat there, silent at first. Why, why was he doing this?

You thought he pitied you, but when you looked at his eyes, that wasn’t the emotion they held. His eyes had this unreadable emotion, or at least in that moment, it felt that way. 

He was the first to speak, “Look, (y/n) I know this is weird, but no I wasn’t stalking you. I signed up for the app the same way you did, upon the recommendation of a friend. I happened to see you and thought, I thought I should give it a shot.”

You stared straight into his eyes, something he honestly loved about you. He knew better than to shy away from your stare. He knew that if he wanted you to know he was sincere, he would have to keep eye contact with you. He still loved you, he knew that you were just scared back then, and that you didn’t want to risk anything because of your family. 

And here you were, risking everything for them once again, something he admired you for. He didn’t know how bad your circumstances were, nor was he sure that you would actually tell him. But he truly did want to reconnect with you, even if it were to be just as a friend. He wanted to befriend you once again, step by step, no matter how long it took. 

As you looked into his eyes, you could see that he was telling the truth, there was no pity in his eyes, but his eyes did hold a warmth to them. They felt so calming, they felt sweet and full of love. He’s as genuine as he ever was. And this was one of the things that drew you to him, something that you loved about the once captain of your high school volleyball team. But you didn’t want to be attached once more. After all, wasn’t this a business thing? But if it was, wouldn’t he be looking at you with pity? 

You stopped staring into his eyes and looked down at your lap, as your hands fiddled with your coat ties. Daichi stared, thinking about how you haven’t changed as much as you were in high school. He still saw you as the woman he liked, the beautiful dancer he saw that day…

Daichi was walking down the first years’ hallway in Karasuno, looking for the other second years classrooms on the same floor when he saw you. There you were, in an empty classroom, dancing with grace and poise. He wasn’t going to stare long, he was going to leave. But, he couldn’t stop, he kept staring at you, enthralled by your beauty as you felt the song. Eventually, a girl who was in the same class started watching you dance and he pretended to do something. 

“Thank you...I’m (l/n) (y/n) by the way.”

He hears you say this as he walks away, hmm, (l/n) (y/n). Maybe I'll see her around. 

Your dance shook him and consumed his nights, he wanted to get to know you and how you could have such an effect on him. 

He eventually got the chance when Kiyoko had come in one day with you and your friend, Yachi and introduced you both as the new first year managers. He was over the moon and he almost lost his composure, something the other third years were quick to notice. As you studied what to do with Yachi, he couldn’t help but stare. 

Sugawara nudged him, “Hey, Daichi… do you know the first years? You keep staring at (y/n)-chan~” 

He abruptly stopped staring, as the older setter and ace laughed, “Shut it, both of you.”

“Daichi’s got a crush~” Sugawara teases as Asahi tries to calm down a stressed Daichi.

Eventually, you did become close friends. You were there when he got that injury from crashing into Tanaka. He could remember you crying over it as you were the one sent to watch over him. 

“Don’t cry (y/n)-chan”

You started crying more as he reassured you that he was okay, “B-but you g-got hurt Daichi-senpai. You’re bleeding, it must hurt a lot.”

He tried to laugh but winced as soon as he did, “Don’t worry (y/n)-chan, I’ll be fine. You’re here aren't you? So that means I’ll get better because you care for me!” 

You had finally stopped crying and you gave him a weak smile, “Okay Daichi-senpai, I’ll be here!”

Once you two had returned he felt content that you were feeling better, it even made him forget about the pain in his face and the tooth he lost. 

“You wanted to talk about your boundaries?” He said as his voice snapped you out of your own thoughts. 

You stared at him with wide eyes, “...Well that is, if you would still accept?”

You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t exactly think that you were going to reconnect in such a way. “Daichi-senpai I know you mean well but I-”

“But what? You don’t want to feel like you’re leeching off someone you know? (y/n) I chose you because I wanted to see you again, no matter what the circumstances were. I don’t know if you’re with anyone or anything but I can be a friend. Just a friend, I can be a shoulder to lean on” Daichi put a hand on top of one of yours.

There was a moment of silence, he knew you were conflicted. 

“Okay, I know I must’ve overwhelmed you, but I hope you know I'm alway-”

“I’ll do it. I’ll be your friend.” you held onto his hand for a bit and smiled.

He smiled back, he wanted to kiss you right then and there, but he knew that he would be a friend in your eyes. Hopefully, only for now and not in the future. 

He let go of your hand when your grip loosened, not wanting to make things awkward, “Alright, why don’t we talk about the boundaries we’ll set in the cafe over some tea?” 

Once you woke up the next day, you had a scarf on your bed next to your coat, a scarf that wasn’t yours…

You were on your way to the park as you and Daichi felt that it would be better to get some fresh air as the cafe was teeming with high school students trying to study for their classes. The air was cold, and you shivered a little. Soon enough Daichi had taken off his scarf. 

“No, Daichi-senpai, you don’t have to do this, it's completely fine.” you try giving him back the scarf but he starts wrapping it around you.

Once you had given up he gives you a bright smile, “There we go. That’s better isn’t it?”

He tucked the strands of hair away from your face and you both turned red as he realized what he had done. “Ah (y/n) I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…”

As he heard your dorky laugh he was met with confusion, “It’s okay senpai. You didn’t mean any harm, I know.”

He laughed the awkwardness away as you two sat a little bit apart on a park bench. The air was awkward, but somehow calming at the same time. You didn’t know what to say but eventually you started talking about uni and other things, and you felt at ease… just like the way you felt with Hinata… 

You shook your head, he’s your friend, that's all there is to it. It was a Saturday and you were getting ready to work at the local bakeshop when you got a text from Hinata. 

“Hey (y/n)! Are you free after your shifts at the bakeshop today? Kenma and Akaashi-san are going to be visiting today.” 

You smiled, it had been a while since you’ve seen those two and you were always happy to see them. Akaashi and Kenma have been some of your most supportive friends, sure they were quiet, but they were always there for you. They were there for you when your mom slipped into her coma, they were there when you first failed a dance recital… but of course, someone who has been there since the beginning would be Hinata. To spend a day with your favorite boys would be wonderful.

“Yeah, I’ll be free by around 3:00pm, is that fine?”  you reply to him.

Soon enough the next reply comes in as you wave goodbye to your sister and leave the house. You had already arranged for a cousin to pick up your little sis to watch her for the day and she was on her way to your place. 

“Alright! We’ll come to get you then, wear something nice to work okay ;>” 

As you looked down at your skirt and sweater you chuckled and sent a selfie to him, “Is this good enough? xD”

You got a reply almost immediately, “No fair, why’d you send a picture?”

You put your phone in your bag after replying to him and head on to your workplace ready to start the day.

Work was tiring but fun at the same time. There were times that you would be serving the customers and times that you would be behind the cash register or even times when you would create latte art or frosting art to help the bakers. The cute uniform you wore at work was a plus too. It was one of those fun days when you would be serving customers. Most of the customers at the bakeshop you worked at were nice people. 

There was this nice high school couple who were now your friends, they went to a school nearby and they loved sharing stories with you, their senior. There was also the grandmother who loved stopping by to buy the best meat buns for her grandkids. There are so many nice people who come to your shop on a regular basis that it's like you all have this small community together. 

Today however, wasn’t one of those days. There was one customer that had found you cute and wouldn’t stop asking you for your number. Your manager had even tried to intervene by changing servers from you to a male co-worker but this customer would not budge. He would still try to get you to stop when you would pass by his table. You didn’t think that he would actually do anything, but you were wrong. As you passed by with an empty tray he grabbed your arm and smiled sweetly, something you found sickening.

“C’mon sweet cheeks, a number is all I ask for.” his grip tightened. 

You tried to get away from him as your co-workers were on alert, “I’m sorry would you please let me go? I’m not interested.”

He was about to pull you closer when someone stepped in front of you, “She said she wasn’t interested, so let her go.”

It was Daichi, he had saved you once more. 

Little did you know, someone else had wanted to save you…

Your three friends, Hinata, Kenma and Akaashi were on the way to the bakeshop you worked at. They were walking down the street when Kenma asked HInata about how you were. 

“She’s doing fine, but she still has the same feel, nothing has actually changed…” Hinata sighed  deeply, wishing you would notice his feelings. 

Akaashi looked up from his phone, “You do know, that she’s changed a little, right?”

Kenma nods in agreement as they kept walking, “She wouldn’t send you random pictures before. How could you have not noticed, Shoyo?” 

Hinata stopped in his tracks, and smiled as wide as he could. “She does do that now!” 

He then starts talking about how pretty you are and how much he loves you. You were the brightest light in his life, no matter what they would say. He wanted to be there with you, every step of the way. He was there when you felt like the world was against you. You were his inspiration during volleyball games. Whenever you had time to visit his games he would look at you and play the best he could. 

They walked down to the corner of the street and turned left, only for Kenma and Akaashi to stop walking in front of the bakeshop as Hinata kept going on about you.

“Hey, what-” He freezes when he sees you being held onto by a man who clearly is making you uncomfortable. He was about to step in when Akaashi stops him, he would’ve hit Akaashi if it weren’t for Kenma pointing to the direction of the bakeshop door, the one person Hinata couldn’t help but not want near you, no matter how selfish it sounded, was there, and he saved you instead of him.  

Sawamura Daichi was back into your life somehow, and he knew that it was going to be something that might hurt one of you in the end.

Daichi had stood in front of you and the customer, his other hand holding yours, it gave you a sense of comfort. He smiled at the customer, not a nice one, but a smile that asserted power the customer tried to put on a strong front but eventually muttered an apology. 

“Sorry, did you say anything? I believe this lady deserves a proper apology.” He said as your coworkers blocked off the man from leaving. 

The man looked down, “Okay, I’m sorry! I won’t be bothering her again…”

Daichi nodded and smiled at you before glaring at the man once more, “If you touch or try to harass my girlfriend one more time, I won’t be as nice.”

You blushed a little at his words and looked at him wide eyed, he only winked at you as the customer left the bakeshop. 

Soon enough you two were seated near the cash register, “Are you alright (y/n)? I’m sorry if I went too far I only wanted him to stop bothering you.” 

“It's okay senpai,” you reassured him, “I know you mean to keep me safe.”

“You know you can call me Daichi, we aren’t in high school anymore, and I preferred if you called me that…” his cheeks turned into a reddish hue. 

You hid your somewhat excitement and agreed, “Alright, Daichi.”

You then see Kenma, Akaashi, and Hinata enter the bakeshop and you waved them over with a smile. 

“(y/n)!” Akaashi gives you one of his rare smiles as he hugs you, “it’s been a while.”

Kenma gave you a nod and you did your weird handshake as Akaashi laughed and Hinata gave a weaker one. 

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind that Daichi is here?” you smile at your friends who were also friends with Daichi once. 

“I hope I’m not intruding,” he smiled as he caught up with Akaashi and Kenma, Hinata staying off to the side a little, wanting to talk to you about how this all happened. 

“So... How did you guys reconnect?” Hinata asked you with curious eyes. 

“Oh, we saw each other yesterday when I needed to go out for a bit.” You weren’t lying to him, technically. 

He nodded, “I see, I see. How did he find this place?”

Daichi overheard and smiled at Hinata, “I was recommended this place by some friends, Kuroo and Bokuto to be exact.” 

Hinata smiled weakly, still conflicted by the feeling of hating his former captain, or accepting the fate that has brought them to reconnect and hopefully be friends again. But then, he knew that the latter had more risks than merits. But he knew that Daichi never really meant harm towards anyone. In fact, Hinata has always admired Daichi for this, but he knew that this would mean that he could take you away…

You, Hinata and the rest of the boys spent the whole afternoon together at the park after your shifts were over. You enjoyed doing the simple things like getting ice cream together and going to bookstores and other small shops. When the day was over, Kenma and Akaashi bid the rest of you goodbye as you now walked with Daichi and Hinata on either of your sides. The silence felt slightly awkward but calming to you. But on the inside, you were panicking internally as these were the boys you loved beyond the bounds of friendship. 

“I should probably get home,” you chuckle lightly. 

“I’ll drive you-”

“I’ll walk you-” 

They both say at the same time as you laughed at them both. 

“Hmm, who should I have escort me home~?” you teased. 

The three of you laughed together, your laugh less tension filled than theirs. Once the laughter died down you stared out a bit, thinking of who you would choose. 

“Ah, I know, how about a game of rock paper scissors?” you set them up for a challenge and neither man wanted to fail. 

They both nodded, Daichi extending his arm out to make a fist, Hinata following suit. 

“Rock” 

“Paper” you put your hands on theirs, 

“Scissors…” both of them are now even more determined to hear your laugh and the words good night said to one of them and only one of them. 

You let go and they choose their stances once you say “Shoot!”

Daichi wins with rock, over Hinata’s scissors. 

Hinata pouts as Daichi laughs a little, and for a moment, it felt as if you were back in high school… Hinata felt like it was just yesterday when he had figured things out. 

“Oi, Hinata! Quit slacking off watching y/n & Yachi. We need to get this right!” a frustrated first year Kageyama Tobio yells to the orange-haired boy a few spots away from him on the court.

Hinata gets hit by a flying volleyball to his head, “Kageyama, you’re just like Iwaizumi san!”

The three girls on the side of the court laugh as they take notes and help the others. y/n looks up from her notes and smiles at him, giving him a thumbs up. 

Hinata turned red a little, he never understood why he felt this way, or why he would turn red whenever y/n smiled at him. Turning away to focus, he seemed more fired up than ever to those on and off the court. 

Daichi had gone up to you after the game and was joking around with you and Ennoshita. Hinata felt a weird growing feeling of annoyance in him every time you would laugh at Daichi’s jokes. He hated it the most when he would ruffle your hair and you would become flustered. 

“Oi, stop staring daggers into our Captain idiot!” Kageyama said as Yachi handed him his water bottle. 

Yachi looked into the direction the two boys were staring at and she chuckled. Hinata looked at the blonde and tilted his head in confusion. The girl just kept laughing as his growing annoyance still stayed, as if it was going to eat him up. 

She looked at Hinata and stopped laughing. Yachi took a deep breath and stared Hinata in the eye, “You need to listen to what I say, okay Hinata-kun?”

He looked even more puzzled but looked to y/n and Daichi once more…”Alright Yacchan what is it?”

“...Have you ever considered that you may be crushing on y/n-chan?” 

Hinata felt like he was hit with a volleyball of realization...and ever since then, his feelings have not changed. 

“Hinata, is it alright for me to take y/n home? Would you want a ride too?” Daichi asked as you and him stared at the tangerine haired boy. 

He smiled and shook his head, “No it’s okay senpai, I’m meeting Kageyama today.”

Technically not a lie, since he would call his close friend out tonight after all this. 

You pout and Hinata swore that he would’ve melted, “You didn’t tell me you were meeting Kageyama-kun.”

He laughed it off, “It was sort of last minute…” 

“It's okay!” you assure him “But you have to tell kageyama that we should all meet soon okay?”

He nods and you leave with Daichi after the older male waves and smiles to Hinata. 

He could already feel some of high school’s pain come creeping up at him. 

“Hey Kageyama, can we go drinking tonight?” He asks on the phone and Kageyama already knows what's up. 

[dansnaturepictures]

My wildlife and photography highlights posts of 2020: Blog 10-Our trip to Bushy Park in October

Regular online associates of mine will know that every year in the autumn we travel to the outskirts of London to visit Richmond Park and now fairly nearby Bushy Park to see Red Deers in their rut (when the males known as stags compete for females (hind) and the right to mate with as many as they can), Ring-necked Parakeets and more. This year with the pandemic and restrictions at that time allowing us to travel as far as we want in the vehicle to walk as exercise and no restrictions preventing that in or around the capital at that time, it would be wiser to perhaps only visit one of these lovely royal parks or only visit one in a day and not be out all day as much to reduce our exposure to people with case numbers considerably high in London. Needless to say we always social distance on our walks wherever we are, that day we had masks and we always have hand sanitiser which we apply when back to the car.

We thought that maybe Richmond was the busier of the two usually and also at Bushy Park we usually see some Red-crested Pochards another beautiful bird we needed to see this year that like the parakeets we don’t usually get at home. But that day at Bushy Park we did not see the Pochards but we still saw a lot else. We went to Bushy Park on 10th October where I took the first picture in this photoset of a view over it. It was a very fitting day to do this version of our annual autumn trip as 10 years ago that day on 10/10/10 we visited Richmond Park for the first time and saw our first ever Red Deers one sunny Sunday. A Sunday that after seeing Richmond Park on BBC Autumnwatch’s weekly shows that year and wanting to see some wild Red Deers started something amazing for us. Our relationship with these majestic mammals goes from strength to strength they are one of my favourite mammals and the trip firstly an October half term mainstay as I was a school student when we first did it and only just a teenager aged 13 has become a key part of our wildlife and photography year. Without Covid given how wet the previous Saturday was in places and could have been as a whole we’d have likely made this trip that day anyway with no Monday booked off work this October I don’t like going to work after a further afield and big trip like this where I take loads of photos and that and see and do so much, so there was maybe some sadness I couldn’t go to Richmond 10 years on from it beginning my love affair with these two royal parks. It would have been something I’d have been all over going on this date. But as much as the big Richmond decade anniversary it was my Red Deer anniversary too a species I have gone onto see in a lot of places from the Scottish Highlands to our local New Forest as recently as the Sunday before for the latter. So to be in a nearby park 10 years on seeing Red Deers again as we did then getting that valuable chance in the confined space of an urban park to get safely up close and observe these species was special still. And due to two visits in both 2010 and 2011 I already celebrated our tenth visit to Richmond Park in 2017 so I loved it this year at Bushy still.

On my seventh visit to Bushy Park that day the Ring-necked Parakeet were clearly around on arrival the bird of the day with their eccentric and distinctive high-pitched calls. In a normal year I usually see them at Richmond Park before coming here for the day and they are usually a year tick there, but Bushy Park was still not to appear next to Ring-necked Parakeet in the location section of my year list as I have actually seen them at home flying over our house and at Grantham Green this year which has excited me a lot. So the question was would it excite me seeing them at Bushy Park this year still? Well it certainly did! Very early on on 10th October we watched some flying into big trees and saw some go into little trees at the car park near the lovely pond that goes into a river as we so often do here. Then we crossed the bridge and in some trees we got great joy with photographing them at Bushy last year we saw one or two flying in and one ate the chestnuts with a Jackdaw on a tree. We got wonderful views of this beautiful and so well coloured bird. I took the second picture in this photoset of it. A great moment I very much enjoyed seeing this one. I was reminded of the scale of the experience with these charming birds that day here with just how many you see and hear well they are the sound of London for me as I’ve said before and just how close you can get to them. You really are just so immersed by them when you get to the royal parks and London they add such an exotic glow. Yes they weren’t always here, but they thrive which there will be debate about if this is a good thing but it’s as though they’ve always been here which I find quite something. I got some great views of a Tufted Duck on the pond at the start I saw these birds very well throughout the day.

We then heard the other sound of the trip always for us when a Red Deer stag roared. We walked over into a well grown area in terms of ferns and saw a female and then a male with little antlers we got quite close to. The female and male both had birds at their feet, Feral Pigeons and other royal park stars the Jackdaws. Not so far on and we saw a Grey Heron in a little stream which I took the second picture in this photoset of. This is a star of the visit too as you can get so close to them at Bushy and Richmond Park perhaps compared to other locations. It’s one of those the area is so confined these birds are present so it can get you close to them. I loved watching it fly in and stand famously still for the species as it fished.

We then moved onto the other side of the stream and saw our first of a few groups of Red Deers that day. A great stag that we saw in all its magnificence, roaring and rounding up its hinds. I got some wonderful views of it we really did. Hearing it roar was once more spectacular with that in one ear and the screaming parakeets in the other I knew I was at Bushy Park/on this trip so it was a moment. The deer then proceeded to go up to a fallen tree and scratch its antlers on the branches. Fascinating behaviour which I think I knew happened but had never seen it for myself I don’t think or rarely before. As the day clouded over after a very sunny and bright start at home especially a little bit of sunlight poked through whilst it was doing this which always helps with photos due to their colour I find. It was great to see this stag going through the ferns seeing bits of its antlers and head then seeing it appear as I did a lot that day and of all the Red Deers I saw that day I loved really appreciating their red colour and why they are called red it was easy to see.

We walked on and saw another stag and its harem this one we got quite close again to some of the deers and it was particularly interesting seeing a female with young a very weary female which was great it really was being so nice and protective of its offspring so lovely to see I took the third picture in this photoset of the female and young one. Another intimate moment with the deers. On the lake I noticed another star bird of Richmond and Bushy with some Egyptian Geese on there which we saw well throughout the trip. They also had some youngsters with them I have not seen Egyptian goslings for years so this made a great addition to the walk I really enjoyed seeing these beautiful birds. We walked to the bottom of the lake at Bushy Park and around some trees by a river type area then around a second lake further down. I took the fourth picture in this photoset a view during this. Through this I got to enjoy some great views of this parkland to the backdrop of the urban area. And I was embraced again by the great feel of the park, with certain shaped trees and the way the landscape looked. There is just such a vibe about London’s royal parks that I always love, an oasis of green and water in amongst the city. A carefully managed and cultivated landscape, but a refuge for wildlife and a snippet of the countryside all the same. I felt very happy to be back taking in this precious landscape. It struck me that day with that little undertone of missing Richmond Park I had been there every year for a decade but as I looked around Bushy I realised how much it does look like Richmond with that rich parkland and nice buildings. A landscape as ever on these trips that looked nice with autumnal colour for the time of year we come it’s such an important part of any memories and vibes on these trips especially the red and yellow leaves. I also enjoyed seeing a Carrion Crow on this walk I saw so many that week a strong supporting star of the walk at Bushy.

On this walk I justified taking my macro lens with me that day it was a tough call between taking that and my bridge camera by seeing nice harebell flowers which I took the fifth picture in this photoset of one that day one of my favourite flower species to learn and enjoy this year, some mushrooms which we often see at the royal parks and yet another lovely snail I photographed this year which I took the seventh picture in this photoset of I took the sixth of another view I’ve notice and celebrated them a lot last year and especially this year and the past few months now I really enjoyed seeing this snail and taking a picture of it. The snail a runaway and surprise star of this trip this year. My last macro lens has been so key to Richmond and Bushy visits over the years so to bring my new lens and get to use it here felt great. We also saw two more groups of Red Deers walking around one we got great views of in particular. I felt very lucky having these deers around and getting to view them. A shower coming on didn’t dampen my enthusiasm for the wildlife and landscape and around. It was special to see the Ring-necked Parakeets sail across the sky throughout the walk.

As we walked back and beside the lake and time was getting in I found myself making the most of the wildlife around especially the Egyptian Goose not around so much immediately at home they really were a star of our Bushy trip this year compared to past years maybe as they were in the Norfolk holiday I loved seeing them and the Red Deers and Ring-necked Parakeets. We saw one of the letter land in a tree and it picked nuts there for a bit. We edged carefully closer to it and enjoyed some of our best views ever of this remarkable bird as shown by the eighth picture I took in this photoset. A fantastic moment.

Behind it we just noticed some massive red deer stag antlers in the long ferns. And we got safely closer and saw a tired Red Deer on the ground and a female further back on the edge of the lake. My standout picture from the trip this year alongside the female and young Red Deer was this Red Deer female by the lake really looking down my lens a bit. I took the seventh picture in this photoset of the Red Deer stag and eighth of the female by the lake in a landscape. As we watched the stag awoke in response to the roars from fellow stags the other side of the lake where had walked earlier. It was fantastic to watch and hear it bellowing its iconic roar in front of us. I remember when we first visited Richmond Park in 2010 that iconic and loud sound stayed with me so much I woke up that night with it in my head it really does go right through you in a nice way. And that day I heard it and thought that it was the sound of autumn for me. A special moment again and we saw this one walk on and walk across the bridge which was quite entertaining as I admired the Mute Swans with many cygnets and other of the impressive array of waterfowl on the pond. As we walked the other side of a stream from it we saw it scratch its antlers too which was nice. Around here I took the ninth picture in this photoset of Egyptian Geese. It’s interesting the swans I saw most of that day were grey ones so big looking young ones. I saw some young Moorhens on the walk too or at least one and I didn’t really bend over backwards to photograph them as I have had so many chances to see them at Lakeside next to our house whilst working from home this year but the swans at Lakeside only produced one cygnet which didn’t survive and I’d not seen many older ones with the grey baby feather this year so it gave me my fix of it. We then took a quick walk around the circular pond that the road within Bushy Park surrounds just in case the Red-crested Pochards had moved there. We didn’t see them but this is where the Diana statue is housed which we have always enjoyed coming here and I photographed for the first time last year. We saw a Cormorant sat on it which was interesting as we drove in that day this October and we saw it on the pond there too. I took the ninth picture in this photoset of this pond there were some great autumnal leaves scenes here too. We saw among many other water birds some Gadwall on this pond too another great species to see in an urban area and a star of the Bushy part of the trip last year too.

As the sun came out I soaked all the views and species up and then we headed off I took the tenth and final picture in this photoset of some of one of a few sunny views towards the end of the trip. This may have been so different to our normal trips here, but it was still an amazing afternoon out seeing stunning wildlife. And the whole day felt like a holiday day giving me that excitement in the build up too and just really enjoying myself that day. The views and wildlife really were stunning, the variety of species and the action I saw and that closeness of everything too us again a key attribute of these annual trips of ours. There was so much colour and vibrancy of autumn about that day. And as expected I took another unbelievable amount of photographs over 60 that day with some of my favourites of the year. It really was sky high as I just enjoyed taking so much in with my naked eyes, binoculars and camera. One of my best days of 2020 for sure. This year of all years, I felt so lucky that I was able to come here and enjoy all these species that day.

Driving home we loved seeing the Lakeside/regular Greylag Geese on the field of my old secondary school and then they flew over our house noisily as I processed my photos that evening not unusual but I got a great view of them through the window the same time the sun was setting I saw a nice sky that night too. It was interesting to see the Greylag Geese behaving like I love seeing migratory species like the Brent Geese do at that time of year on what was World Migratory Bird Day. And Mental Health Awareness day too fitting as I showed once again just how nature can captivate and inspire me and make me feel good. A fantastic, wild and packed day! I found myself feeling so positively tired that great feeling I get after a big day trip.

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Supernatural- Something Wicked (1.18)

im crying again this boy was a... ChiLd

Pairing: Slight Olive Winchester x Hunter Richmond, usual Olive Winchester sister oc

Summary: John sends the siblings on a hunt, the Winchester and Richmond rivalry rears its head, and the past comes back to haunt the Winchesters

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sickness, guns, probably a knife in there somewhere, etc

Word Count: 6995

“Something’s not right about this, Dean.” Sam scoffed.

“Yeah. You probably missed something, that’s what.” Dean snapped back.

“Dude, we ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers.” Sam sighed.

“De, we couldn’t find a single red flag.” I piped up, glancing between the two.

“Are you sure you got the coordinates right?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, he double checked. Fitchburg, Wisconsin.”

“Dad wouldn’t have sent us coordinates if it wasn’t important, Sammy.” Dean was trying to stay calm.

Sam ran his hands through his head, frustrated. Jinx whined from his lap, sensing the tension.

“Well, I’m telling you that Olive and I looked and all we could find was a big steamy pile of nothing.” Sam snapped. “If Dad’s sending us hunting for something, I don’t know what.”

“Well maybe he’s gonna meet us there.” Dean offered with a shrug.

“Yeah. Cause he’s been so easy to find up to this point.” Sam snarled.

Dean lost his patience. “You’re a real smart ass, you know that?”

“Hey.” I snapped, glaring at them both. “Both of you calm down.”

Dean snorted. “She’s right. I’m sure there’s something in Fitchburg worth killing.”

“Yeah?” Sam turned. “What makes you so sure?”

“Cause I’m the oldest, which means I’m always right.”

“No it doesn’t.” Sam narrowed his eyes at him.

“It totally does.” Dean sassed back.

Dean glanced at Sam, then back to the road with a grin on his face. I leaned into his side with a huff. Jinx let out a sigh as we passed the sign for Fitchburg, population 20,501.

                                                      ***

“What do you think’s here?” Sam asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Jinx tugged at the leash, and Sam tugged back with a sigh.

“I dunno.” I shrugged, wrapping my jacket tighter around myself. “But Dean’s right, there’s probably something worth our time.”

Sam rolled his eyes, and I licked my lips.

“What? Don’t understand the blind faith I have in him?” My arm began to throb.

Sam snorted, rolling his eyes again. “No, actually. I don’t.”

“Has Dean ever let us down?” I narrowed my eyes as I turned to look at him. “Has he ever betrayed us? Hurt us?” I scowled at him.

“Ol-”

“Sam, just answer the question. Has Dean ever led us astray?”

Sam sighed and shook his head. Jinx let out a small yip, and I looked up.

“Hey!” Dean came running across the street with a grin, two coffee cups, and a bottle.

“Juice!” I smiled and plucked the bottle from his hand. “So, what’s going on?”

“Well…” Dean handed Sam a coffee. “The waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that, nobody’s heard about anything freaky going on.”

Sam said nothing, staring ahead. I followed his line of sight, only to see an empty playground. I blinked, confused.

“De, you got the time?”

Dean glanced at his watch. “Uh, ten after four. Why?”

Sam nodded to the playground. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

“School’s out, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. So where is everybody?”

“This place should be crawling with kids right now.”

Dean nodded. “C’mon.”

Sam and I followed as he approached the single woman sitting on a park bench, reading a magazine. Jinx sniffed a trail on the floor, then let out a tiny bark. The woman turned around and smiled at us.

“Sure is quiet out here.” He smiled his charming smile.

“Yeah, it’s a shame.” She sighed.

“And why’s that?”

“You know, kids getting sick. It’s a terrible thing.”

“How many?” I inched forward, leaning into Dean’s side.

He wrapped an arm around me as the woman spoke.

“Just give or six, but serious. Hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it’s catching.” She nodded her head at me. “I would make sure you keep your daughter safe.”

Sam made a bitch-face, lips curled up. Dean only tightened his hold on me. “Yeah, thank you.”

I sighed and watched as a little blond girl played by herself on the swings.

                                                     ***

“Dude.” Sam growled. “Dude, I am not using this ID.” He slapped it down by his side.

“Why not?” I asked, leaning forward and pulling my bag onto my shoulder.

“It says bikini inspector on it.”

I giggled. “They usually don’t even look that close, Sams. You’ll be alright.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’s all about confidence.”

“Alright, be careful. Anything weird, you call us. Keep a weapon on you at all times, don’t let anybody see it.” Dean pecked my cheek.

“Okay. Be safe. Love you guys.” I scratched Jinx behind the ear.

“Love you too, babes. We’ll swing by later to pick you up, alright?”

I nodded as I climbed out of the car and shut the door. “Bye!”

The boys drove off and I turned to face the school with a sigh. This was going to be, by far, one of the longest hunts so far.

                                                     ***

I dropped into a chair at the back of the room with a sigh. I had pushed through chemistry and trig, although I understood nothing. English II was a dim lit room, and I took a nap. Advanced painting was a breeze, although the sleeve of my flannel now had a strip of red paint on it. Spanish was a bore, it came naturally to me, and the same could be said for the current mythology class. 

“Connors? Ms. Connors? Olive Connors?”

I blinked. We had blown through so many fake names since St. Louis I always forgot which one we were using.

“Here.” I didn’t look up from my journal.

“Richmond?”

“Present.”

I looked up, eyes wide. Hunter was on the other end of the room, staring at me. I narrowed my eyes. How’d they get here? There wasn’t anything to lead them here.

Why are you here? I mouthed, glaring.

We found it in our mom’s journal.

I sighed and sunk into my seat, flipping back to the start of my own journal.

This was going to be even worse than I had originally thought.

                                                     ***

“In your mom’s journal? We can’t even find it in our dad’s. And I can’t find it in mine.” I spoke to Hunter through gritted teeth as we elbowed our way through the halls.

“I thought you had, like, the master journal. Haven’t you been putting all of your research together since you were nine?”

“Six. I started training when I was six. What’s your mom’s journal say?” I grabbed onto his arm as a group of freshmen pushed past us.

He wiggled his arm out of my grip and slipped his hand into mine. “Come on, we can’t be talking about this stuff in public.”

I rolled my eyes. “God, you sound like Sam.”

“Well, he’s right. For all we know, one of these kids is doing something.”

I rolled my eyes again, this time throwing my head back for effect. “Fine, come here.” I tugged him into the girls bathroom.

He opened his mouth to protest, and I elbowed him as a girl popped out of one of the stalls. She eyed us as she washed her hands, and then hurried out into the hall. Hunter glared at me.

“Nice, so now we could get suspended.”

I grinned. “No school means we get in on the hunt. Now show me your mom’s journal.”

He shouldered his bag and unzipped it, pulling out a yellow journal with a faded heart on the cover. He flicked it open, smoothing the pages out.

“Shtriga.” He handed it over.

My blood ran cold as I looked at the picture of a rotted handprint. I shivered, and I didn’t know why.

“I think our mom and you dad went after this together.” Hunter pointed at the journal.

I swallowed hard as I looked up at him.

                                                     ***

On the other side of town, Sam and Dean prance around a girl’s room. She’s sick, in the hospital with her entire family. The boys need to find out what they’re up against.

“You got anything over there?” Sam asks Dean.

The eldest Winchester shakes his head, staring at his EMF meter. “Nah, nothing.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Sam sighs, moving to the window.

His eyes widen and he calls out to his older brother. Dean comes as called, confused. Sam lets out a breath as he stares at the windowsill.

“You were right. It’s not pneumonia.”

“It’s rotten. What the hell leaves a handprint like that?”

Dean stares over Sam’s shoulder, eyes widening when he sees the same handprint, rotted into the wood. His blood freezes at the same time as Olive’s, and his stomach drops. He knows this handprint. He’s seen it before.

                                                     ***

Dean, aged eleven, stares at a photo of the same handprint. John comes out of the bedroom, loading his sawn off.

“Alright. You know the drill, Dean. Anybody calls, you don’t pick up. If it’s me, I’ll ring once, then call back. You got that?”

Dean nods. “Mhm. Only answer the phone unless it rings once first.” He butchers it on purpose.

He’s tired of hearing the same thing over and over. He knows what to do to take care of his siblings. Ever since Olive was dropped on their doorstep, Dean’s become a single father of two, fighting tooth and nail to keep his siblings safe. He loves his little brother and sister, but he wishes they could stay with Bobby, like the Richmonds. Everett is four, Sutton is two, and Hunter is the same age as Olive. They can’t take care of themselves, but John believes Dean can take care of his own family.

“Come on, dude, look alive.” John pats Dean’s chest. “This stuff is important.”

“I know, it’s just…” Dean sighs. “We’ve gone over it like a million times and you know I’m not stupid. I can take care of them.”

“I know you’re not stupid. I know you can.” John suppresses a prideful smile. “But it only takes one mistake, you got that?” He continues to pack his bag. “Alright, if I’m not back Sunday night…” John trails off.

“Call Pastor Jim.” Dean repeats the chant imprinted on his brain stem.

“Lock the doors, the windows, close the shades. Most important…”

“Watch out for Sammy and Ollie. I know.”

John and Dean look to the two younger children. Sammy, seven years old, is sprawled out on the couch, watching ThunderCats on the TV. Olive is about half a year old, small and fragile, tucked into a bouncy cradle. She’s wide awake, big brown eyes taking in everything in the room. Sam picks her up and holds her in his arms, eyes still on the TV. Sam loves her too, maybe a bit more than Dean does.

“Alright.” John takes Dean’s attention back. “If something tries to bust in?”

“Shoot first, ask questions later.”

John grabs his shoulders and leans down to be eye-level with him, a smile on his face. “That’s my man.”

                                                     ***

Dean blinks himself back to reality, standing by the window and feeling ill. Sam stares at him, concerned.

“I know why Dad sent us here. He’s faced this thing before, with Irene Richmond. He wants us to finish the job.”

                                                     ***

“Dean!”

“Yeah, Ol. We’re running late, I know, we’re sorry.”

“No, it’s not that. Look, the Richmonds are here. I know what we’re dealing with.”

“A shtriga. I know.”

“Everett and Sutton already found a motel. We can get a room there.”

He sighed on the other end. “Yeah, okay. They picking you up? I mean, I’m assuming you’re with Hunter?”

I giggled, looking up at the boy next to me. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Meet us at the motel? I’ll text Sammy the address.”

Another sigh. “Yeah, fine. See you soon, baby.”

I smiled. “See you, bubba.”

                                                     ***

“So what the hell is a shtriga?” Sam asked as the boys climbed out of the car.

“It’s… kinda like a witch I think.”

“We don’t know much about them. It’s not in Dad’s journal, or mine.” I called from my spot on the Richmond’s car.

“Hey, beanie!” Dean grinned at me before turning back to Sam. “Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about fifteen years ago. You were there. It was a couple of months after Olive was born. You don’t remember?”

I jumped off the car and met my brothers halfway, holding my arm out for a hug.

“No.” Sam shook his head before kissing my head. “I’ve never heard of a shtriga before.”

“I guess he caught wind of the stuff going on now and kicked us the coordinates.” Dean kissed my forehead.

“Dean, do you think this is the same one Dad hunted before?” I asked as he handed Jinx’s leash to me.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“But if Dad went after it, why is it still breathing air?” Sam narrowed his eyes.

“Cause it got away.” Dean grumbled.

“Got away?” Sam echoed.

Dean began to lose his patience, and I pulled Jinx up to my chest with a sigh. She let out a whine, and I watched as Dean’s jaw clenched.

“It happens, Sams.” I offered.

“Not very often.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Sam. Maybe Dad didn’t have his wheaties that morning.” Dean snarled.

“What else do you remember?”

“Nothing. I was a kid, alright?” Dean snapped back, defensive as he opened the door.

Sam looked at me as Dean rang the bell on the counter. I shrugged. Something about this case was deeply personal for him. I didn’t know why, or what, but I knew it was bothering him.

A ten year old boy came around from a back room, where you could see a younger boy watching TV.

“A king or two queens?” The boy asked, eyes on Jinx.

“Two queens.” Dean spoke, glancing over his shoulder at Sam.

The boy glanced back at Sam and snickered, mumbling something under his breath.

“What’d you say?” Dean fronted.

“Hey.” I hit his arm.

“Two queens, please. Pet-friendly, too.” I smiled at the boy.

Jinx looked at him with her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth. The boy smiled back.

“Can I pet her?”

“Yeah, sure! She’s really sweet. Her name’s Jinx.” I put her down on the floor as the boy rounded the counter.

A woman came around from the back room and smiled at us.

“Hi. Checking in?”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, a polite smile on his face.

“Michael, do me a favor, go get your brother some dinner.” She spoke to the boy.

“Mom, I’m helping a guest!”

She gave him a look, and he grimaced. “Thanks for letting me pet her.” He got to his feet.

“Of course.”

He turned to his mother and raised his eyebrow at Dean. “Two queens.”

Dean faked a laugh. “Funny kid.”

“Yeah, he thinks so.” She sighed. “Will that be cash or credit?”

“You take MasterCard?” He asked, and she nodded. “Perfect. Here you go.” He handed her his card, staring at the back room.

I stood, lifting Jinx once more. She snuggled into my chest and I leaned against Dean. He kissed the top of my head, but kept staring off.

                                                     ***

Sam, seven years old, places Olive in her high chair. She slams her fat little fists against the table, and Dean shushes her as he pours Sam a glass of milk.

“When’s Dad gonna get back?” Sam asks as he sits down.

Dean grabs a pot from the stove, careful not to burn himself. “Tomorrow.”

“When?” Sam pouts.

Dean sighs as he pours the noodles into a bowl. “I dunno, Sam. He usually comes in late though. Now eat your dinner.” He places the bowl in front of Sam.

“I’m sick of Spaghettios.”

“Well, you’re the one who wanted them.”

Olive hits the table again, this time beginning to cry. Dean shushes her again, plucking her out of her chair and holding her to his chest.

“I want Lucky Charms!” Sam whines.

Olive cries louder, and Dean bounces her up and down.

“There’s no more Lucky Charms, Sam.”

“I saw the box!” Sam crosses his arms over his chest.

“Okay, maybe there is but there’s only enough for one bowl and I haven’t had any yet.” Dean sighs, trying to calm a screaming Olive.

Sam gives Dean puppy eyes, and Dean breaks. He grabs Sam’s bowl, ready to dump it in the trash. Olive falls silent, making grabby hands for it. He smiles, putting the bowl down on the table. He grabs the cereal box and puts it down in front of Sam before sitting with Olive in his lap, spoon feeding her.

Sam reaches into the box and pulls out the toy, holding it out to Dean. “D’ya want the prize?”

                                                     ***

“De.” I grabbed Dean’s elbow and shook him.

He blinked, and the woman held his card out to him, “Sir?”

Dean blinked again, taking the card and tucking it back into his wallet. “Thanks.”

I looked up at him with big eyes. He looked down at me with a sad smile and handed me the motel keys. Jinx licked his hand, and he patted her head.

“Come on, let’s go.”

                                                     ***

“Well, you guys were right.” Sam chuckled, sitting at the table with his laptop open. “It wasn’t very easy to find, but you were right. Shtriga is a kind of witch. They’re Albanian, but legends trace them back to Ancient Rome.”

“Yeah. They feed off spiritus vitae.” Sutton nodded, feet kicked up on the table.

“Spiri-what?” Dean echoed.

“Spiritus vitae.” Sam repeated.

“It’s Latin, translates to breath of life. Kinda like your life force or essence.”

“Didn’t the doctor say the kid’s bodies were wearing out?” Dean settled onto his bed.

I yawned and curled up on the couch. Jinx jumped up with me, snuggling between my legs and Hunter’s head.

“It’s a thought.” Sutton shrugged. “You know, she takes your vitality, maybe your immunity goes to hell, pneumonia takes hold.”

“Anyways, shtrigas can feed off anyone, but they prefer-”

“Children.” Everett cut him off.

“Yeah. Probably because they have a stronger life force.” Sutton noted.

“And get this. Shtrigas are ‘invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man’. So what do we do?”

“No, that’s not right.” Dean looked up. “She’s vulnerable when she feeds.”

“What?” I looked at him.

“If you catch her when she’s eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron, uh… buckshots, or rounds, I think.”

“How do you remember that?” Sam tilted his head.

“Dad told me. I remember.”

“Oh.” Sam hummed. “Anything else Dad might’ve mentioned?”

“Nope, that’s it.” Dean shook his head.

Sutton and Everett looked between the boys, and then to me.. Hunter looked up at me, and I looked away.

“What?” Dean barked.

“Nothing.” Everett blinked.

“So, assuming we can kill the bitch while it eats, we still gotta find the thing. It’s not exactly gonna be a cakewalk. Shtrigas take on a human disguise when they’re not hunting.” Sutton broke the silence.

“What kinda disguise?” I asked.

“Historically, something innocuous.” Sam sighed. “Could be anything, but it’s usually a feeble old woman, which might be how the witches as old crones legend started.”

“Wait, hang on.” Hunter and I got up at the same time.

“What?”

“Tack it up.” I plucked the map off the coffee table and handed it to Dean. “Check this out. Hunter and I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are all the houses that have been hit so far.” I pointed to all the red circles.

“And what’s dead center?” Hunter pointed to the meddle.

“The hospital.” Sam realized.

“The hospital.” Dean repeated, eyes widening. “I saw a patient there, an old woman.”

“An old person, huh?”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, and I tilted my head at him.

“In a hospital?” Sam let out a whistle and shook his head. “Better call the coast guard.”

Everett snorted, and Sutton giggled. I looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. He rolled his eyes.

“Listen, smartasses. She had an inverted cross hanging on her wall.”

I smiled at Dean as the others looked up at him, wide-eyed and serious. Dean raised an eyebrow, and I rested my head against his arm, and he squeezed my shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

                                                     ***

Hunter clapped a hand over my mouth, and I grabbed Dean’s wrist, yanking him back. Everett hushed Sutton, and Sam pushed us all back to hide behind the corner.

“Good night Dr. Hydecker.”

“See you tomorrow, Betty.”

“Try to get some sleep.”

Sam peeked his head around the corner and nodded, leading the way. Dean looked around, on edge. He took the lead, opening the door. He snuck in, drawing his gun. Everett and Sutton followed him in. Hunter pushed me in, and Sam was the last, closing the door behind us, softly. I padded over to Dean and hooked a finger onto his belt loop. He reached back and squeezed my hand before shuffling closer to the woman. She was in her wheelchair, facing the corner. I pulled at him, and he looked over his shoulder to face me.

Is she asleep? I mouthed at him.

He nodded. I think so.

“Who the hell are you?” The woman yelled, turning to Dean.

I jumped a foot in the air, and Dean instinctively snatched me mid-air, holding me against his hip. The Richmonds aimed their weapons at the woman, and Sam was in front of Dean and I in a split second, arms spread wide and shoulders squared to protect us.

“Who’s there? You trying to steal my stuff?” She groaned to herself. “They’re always stealing around here.”

Hunter turned and flicked the lights on, and I let out a silent breath when I saw the cataracts in her eyes.

“No, ma’am!” Sam sputtered. “Uh, we’re maintenance. We’re sorry, we thought you were sleeping.”

“Ah, nonsense.” The woman snorted. “I was sleeping with my peepers open.” She laughed before pointing to the inverted cross on the wall. “And fix that crucifix, would ya? I’ve asked four damn times already!”

Dean and I only stared, clinging to each other. Sam spun the cross around so that it was the right way as Dean tried to put me down. My legs were hooked around him, and they would not go down. I tightened my arm around his neck, and he sighed as we turned to leave the room.

                                                     ***

“I was sleeping with my peepers open?” Sam let out a cackle, and Dean frowned at him.

“I almost smoked that old girl, I swear! It’s not funny!” Dean hissed back.

“Oh man, you should’ve seen your faces!” Sam snickered.

“It was horrifying, Sams!” I snapped back.

“Your legs wouldn’t work!” Sam laughed harder, beginning to wheeze.

“Oh, shove it.” I snarled as we entered the lobby.

“Alright, alright, laugh it off. Now we’re back to square one.” Dean sighed as he fished out the motel keys.

“Alright, I’m gonna hit the hay.” Everett saluted us before going straight for their room.

“See ya later.” Sutton waved, following her sister.

Hunter sighed, leaning down to kiss my cheek before following his sisters across the parking lot.

“Hang on.” Dean shoved the keys into my hand and turned to the boy from earlier, who was sitting on the curb. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“My brother’s sick.”

“The little guy?” Dean asked, face softening.

I sighed. Poor kid.

“Pneumonia. He’s in the hospital. It’s my fault.”

“Aw, come on.” Dean shook his head. “How is it your fault?”

“I should’ve made sure the window was latched. He wouldn't have gotten pneumonia if the window was latched.” He pouted.

Dean looked back at us, a sad look on his face. Sam and I looked back, identical frowns on our faces.

“Listen to me.” He turned back to Michael. “I can promise you that this is not your fault. Okay?”

“It’s my job to look after him.”

Dean’s shoulders dropped, and I sighed again.

You see yourself in him.

My chest clenched, and Sam grabbed me by the shoulders. The mom came hurrying out of the lobby.

“Michael, I want you to turn on the no vacancy sign while I’m gone. I’ve got Denis covering room service so don’t bother with any of the rooms.”

“I’m going with you.” Michael stood.

“Not now, Michael.”

“But I’ve gotta see Asher.” He begged.

“Hey, Michael.” Dean caught his attention. “Hey, I know how you feel, I’m a big brother too, but you gotta go easy on your Mom right now, okay?”

She dropped her handbag in her haste and cursed under her breath. I bolted out from under Sam’s arm and grabbed it.

“Here.”

“Thank you.” She wiped her hair out of her face.

“Listen, you’re in no condition to drive. Why don’t you let me give you a lift to the hospital?” Dean offered.

“No, I couldn’t possibly-”

“No, it’s really no trouble. Let him drive you.” I cut in, and Dean held his hand out for the keys.

“Thank you so much.” She smiled, then turned to Michael. “Be good.”

Dean turned to help her slide into the passenger seat and then turned back to us. He cupped my cheek before looking up at Sam.

“We’re gonna gank this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?”

                                                     ***

Hunter let out a snore from his spot on the couch. I was next to him, half asleep. Sutton and Sam were researching, and Everett was calling around to see who knew what. My phone buzzed under my thigh, and I untangled myself from Hunter, making my way to Sam and Sutton.

“Hey.” Dean whispered on the other end.

“Hey, bubba. How’s the kid?”

“He’s not good. Where are you guys?”

“We’re at the library. We’re trying to find out as much as we can about the shtriga.”

“Whatcha got so far?”

“Well, bad news. We started with Fort Douglas, the hunt you said Dad was on.” I whacked Sam’s arm to get his attention.

“And?”

“Um, same deal. I think Sammy said that before that there was Odgensville? Before that, North Haverbrook, and Brockway. Every fifteen to twenty years it hits a new town.” I sighed. “This thing is just getting started. In all these other places, dozens of kids before it moves on. The kids just stay in comas and then die.” I shuddered.

“How far back does this thing go?”

“Uh, Sammy, how far back?” I whispered, leaning over his shoulder.

“Earliest mention we could find was called Black River Falls, back in the 1890s.”

“Holy shit.” I hissed, staring at the microfiche screen.

“Ollie?”

“Hold on, De. We’re looking at a picture of a bunch of doctors standing around a kid’s bed. Sam, that’s Hydecker, right?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded slowly.

“Okay, and?”

“And the picture is from 1893.”

“Are you guys sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Absolutely.”

Dean hung up without a warning, and I sighed.

“We can’t leave him in that hospital alone, he’ll lose his cool.” I whispered.

Sam shook his head. “We can’t do anything.”

I growled under my breath and padded back to Hunter. He was awake now, rubbing at his eyes. I dropped back next to him with a sigh, and he yawned.

“What happened?”

“It’s the fucking doctor.” I hissed.

He huffed. “He’ll go after the older brother now.”

I nodded. “We have to stop this. Tonight.”

                                                     ***

“We should’ve thought of this before.” Sam sighed. “A doctor is a perfect disguise. You’re trusted, you can control the whole thing.”

Dean wrestled with his jacket, angry. I yanked him by the wrist and helped him take the jacket off before he continued to pace, agitated. I folded the jacket in two and held it in my lap as I sat down on the bed with a sigh. Jinx settled at my feet with a whine. She could tell he was anxious.

“That son of a fucking bitch.” He snarled.

“I’m surprised you didn’t draw on him right there.” Everett snorted.

“Yeah well, first of all, I’m not gonna open fire in a fucking pediatrics ward.”

“Good call.” Sutton noted.

“Second, wouldn’t have done any good, because the cunt’s bullet proof unless he’s chowing down on something. And third, I wasn’t packing, which is probably a really good thing cause I would’ve burned a clip in him on principle alone.”

“You’re getting wise in your old age, Dean.” Sam teased.

Dean said nothing, and I stood, padding toward him softly.

“We know how to get it.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

Dean’s eyes widened. “Shtrigas work through siblings, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“If last night it went after Asher…”

“It’ll go after Michael tonight.” Hunter finished.

“We gotta get him outta here.” Sam’s eyes widened.

“No, no. That could blow the whole deal.” Dean shook his head.

“What?” Sutton’s eyes bulged out of her head.

“You wanna use the kids as bait? Are you nuts?” Sam scowled.

“No! Forget it.” Everett shook her head.

“Out of the question.” Sutton made a face of disgust.

“It’s not out of the question, guys. It’s the only way! If this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance.” Dean protested.

“Michael’s a kid. And we are not gonna dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook.”

“Dad did not send me here to walk away.” Dean hissed.

“Send you here? He didn’t send you here! He sent us here!” Sam snapped.

“Hey!” I called, trying to get them to stop.

Jinx howled, sensing the obvious tension.

“This isn’t about you, Sam! I’m the one who screwed up, alright? It’s my fault! There’s no telling how many kids have died because of me!” Dean shouted.

“What?” Everett tilted her head.

“Dean, how is this your fault?” Sutton spoke softly.

“Dean…” Sam trailed off. “You’ve been hiding something from the get-go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away? Now talk to us, man. Tell us what’s going on.”

“Dean.” I whispered. “Please.”

“Fort Douglas, Wisconsin. It was our third night in this crap room, and I was climbing the walls. Man, I needed some fucking air. I was only eleven. Olive wasn’t even a year old, and she was teething.” Dean breathed heavily.

I rubbed his back as he stopped pacing and dropped onto the bed. “It’s okay. Just tell us.”

                                                     ***

Dean is eleven. He’s watching TV in the motel room. He’s losing it. It’s the third day that he’s been cooped up in the tiny space. He turns the TV off and peeks into the bedroom. Sam is asleep, laying on his stomach with one hand reaching into Olive’s crib. She’s sleeping on her back, covered in blankets, tiny fist wrapped around one of Sam’s small fingers. Dean smiles before leaving, locking the door behind him.

He goes to the arcade. It’s in the same motel. He’s only a few rooms away. They’re both sound asleep, and Olive sleeps for hours at a time. He’ll only be out for a little while. What’s the harm?

He plays until the owner tells him they’re closing for the night.

Dean, now calm, returns to their motel room. He sees an eerie light coming from the bedroom. He hears Olive whine, and then she screams, bursting into tears. Dean’s blood freezes, horrified. He pushes the door open, seeing the shtriga leaning over Sam, breathing his life in. Dean reaches for the rifle by the door. The shtriga hears him cock it and rears up, hissing at him.

Dean hesitates, terrified. John breaks down the front door, handgun raised. He shouts an order at Dean, who ducks and rolls. Olive screams louder as John shoots the shtriga. It jumps over Sam and through the window. Olive cries so hard that she begins to choke, and Dean is made in action, rushing to his feet and lifting her out of the crib, patting her back.

Her crying dies down as John cradles Sam close.

“Sammy? Sammy, Sammy. You okay?”

Sam blinks as he wakes up, confused. “Yeah Dad. What’s going on?”

“Are you alright?” John repeats, holding Sam close.

Olive coos as John turns to glare at Dean. “What happened?”

Dean hesitates, again scared. “I… I just went out.”

“What!” John roars, and Sam pulls away, confused.

Olive begins to cry again. John plucks her from Dean’s arms, and she lets out an ear-piercing wail. She reaches for Sam, who takes her from their angry father.

“Just for a second. Dad, I’m so sorry.” Dean whimpers.

“I told you not to leave this room! I told you not to let him out of your sight!”

                                                     ***

My heart ached as Dean blinked away tears. I reached for his hand and he took it without a word, sniffling. Jinx jumped onto the bed and let out a whine, curling up by his side.

“Dad just… grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim’s, three hours away. Irene went after it, but by the time Dad got back to Fort Douglas, the shtriga disappeared. It was just gone, and it never surfaced until now. You know, Dad never spoke about it again, and I didn’t ask. But he… he looked at me different, you know.” He sniffed. “Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order, and I didn’t listen. I could’ve gotten you both killed.”

“You were a kid.” Sam and I spoke at the same time, voices soft.

“Don’t.” Dean shook his head. “Don’t. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it.”

“But using Michael… I dunno, Dean. I mean, can’t I just hide under the covers? Ya know, we can be the bait?” Sutton asked.

“No, it won’t work.” Dean shook his head. “It’s gotta get close enough to feed, it’ll see us. Believe me, I don’t like it any more than you do. But it’s gotta be the kid.”

                                                     ***

“Well, that went shitty.” Dean scowled as he laid back on the bed. “Now what?”

“Well what did you expect?” Everett sighed. “You can’t ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid.”

There was a knock on the door, and Hunter stood to open it. Michael stood there, looking horrified. Jinx barked.

“Michael?”

“If you kill it, will Asher get better?�� He asked.

“Honestly?” Dean sighed. “We don’t know.”

“You said you were a big brother.”

Dean nodded, glancing back at me and Sam. “Yeah.”

“You take care of your little brother and sister? You’d do anything for them?”

Dean nodded again, without skipping a beat. “Yeah, I would.”

Michael sighed. “Me too. I’ll help.”

                                                     ***

“Alright, got it?” Sutton asked Sam as she stuck her head in one room and then the other.

“Almost.” Sam called back.

“This camera has night vision on it, so we’ll be able to see clear as day.” Dean spoke to Michael, voice soft and tone gentle.

My heart melted. I loved Dean with all my heart.

“Are we good?” He looked at Sutton.

“A hair to the right.” She repeated Sam’s instructions.

I tapped the camera a bit, and Sutton put a hand up for me to stop. Hunter checked his handgun before tucking it into his pocket. I leaned against the wall as I did the same, watching Dean.

“What do I have to do?” Michael asked him.

Dean sat on his bed. “Just stay under the covers.”

“And what if it shows up?”

Dean glanced up at us, and Michael did the same. Hunter winked at him and I sent him a smile.

“Hunter and Olive will be in your closet. The rest of us will be right in the next room. We’re gonna come in with guns. So, as soon as we do, you roll off the bed and crawl under it.”

“What if you shoot me?” Michael asked.

“We don’t shoot you.” Dean smiled softly. “We’re good shots. We’re not going to fire until you’re clear, okay?”

Michael nodded, hesitantly.

“Have you ever heard a gunshot before?”

“Like in the movies?”

Dean chuckled. “It’s gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. So I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears, and do not come out until we say so. You understand?”

Michael nodded again, paling by the second.

“Michael, you sure you wanna do this?”

He said nothing, and Dean put a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to, it’s okay. Nobody will be upset with you.”

“No, I’m okay.” He sat up tall. “Just don’t shoot me.”

“We’re not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise.” Dean whispered to him.

                                                     ***

I rubbed my eyes as we sat on the floor of the closet, heads against the door. I watched through the wooden slits as a shadow moved outside the window. Hunter stood, pulling me up with him. The window slid open, and I clutched my gun tighter. I closed my eyes, knowing the others were preparing themselves to run in here.

The shtriga stood over Michael, and opened its mouth. Michael was horrified, but his eyes were shut tightly. The light of his energy began to light up the room, and Dean and the others burst down the door.

“Hey!” Sam shouted.

“Michael, down!” Dean ordered.

I kicked the door open as Michael rolled off and under the bed. Each of us took multiple shots, firing at the shtriga until it fell to the floor.

“Mike, you alright?” Dean called.

“Yeah.” His voice was meek, but he was okay.

“Just sit tight.” Dean ordered as he took a step toward the shtriga.

It was limp on the ground, and Dean let out a small sigh as he glanced back at Sam. It jumped up, and a growl left my mouth as I went at it, tossing my gun aside. It grabbed me by the throat and pushed me into Dean, slamming us both into the wall. I spit blood as it slammed the Richmonds to the ground.

“Ol! Dean!” Sam called as the shtriga forced him against the wall, drawing his energy out.

Danger. Sam. Dying. Sam. Sam!

Sam began to go grey. I let out another noise as Sutton stumbled for her gun. The shtriga looked up. Sutton shot it in the head, and Sam went limp, gasping for breath.

“Sams!” I ran to him, speaking through pointed teeth.

“You okay, little brother?” Dean asked Sam.

Sam nodded, holding two shaky thumbs up. I helped him to his feet. Dean and the Richmonds met us a foot away from the shtriga. We stared as the energy began to spill from its mouth. I took Dean’s gun from his hand and shot it. Dean took the gun back and shot it twice more. It fell in on itself as the rest of the energy escaped.

Michael peeked his head out, and Dean nodded.

“It’s okay, Michael. You can come on out.”

More blood fell from my mouth, and I spit it onto my flannel so it wouldn’t end up on the carpet. Michael shuffled to stand next to Everett, smiling tentatively. Dean pulled an arm around me and the other around Sam, winking at Michael.

I glanced at Hunter, and he nodded.

We got it.

                                                     ***

“So, we’ll see you around?” I looked up at Hunter.

He nodded. “Probably.” He bent down and scratched Jinx’s ears. “Bye, sweet baby.”

“Hunt, come on, I wanna get going.” Everett called as she climbed into their car.

I nodded in her direction. “You should go.”

He sighed. “You know, you’re lucky to have Dean.”

I glanced over my shoulder at said boy and smiled. “Yeah.” I turned back to Hunter. “I really am.”

He chuckled. “Catch ya later, Ol.”

I popped to my toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Bye, Hunt.”

He winked as he climbed into the backseat. Everett started to move before he could even shut the door. I giggled, waving as they drove off.

“Hey, Joanna.” Dean greeted Michael’s mom with a grin. “How’s Asher doing?”

“Have you seen Michael?” She asked.

“Mom! Mom!” Michael came running from inside the building, hugging his mother.

“Hey, sweetie!”

“How’s Ash?” He asked with large, hopeful eyes.

“Good news.” She smiled. “Your brother’s gonna be just fine.”

“Really?” Michael gasped.

“Yes, really.” She smiled. “No one can explain it. It’s a miracle. They’re gonna keep him overnight for observation and then he’s coming home.”

“That’s great!” Dean grinned.

“How are the other kids?”

“Good! Real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr. Travis says the ward’s going to be a ghost town.”

“Dr. Travis?” I asked. “What about Dr. Hydecker?”

“Oh, he wasn’t in today. Must’ve been sick or something.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “Must’ve.”

“So, did anything happen while I was gone?” Joanna asked Michael.

“Nah.” He glanced at Dean. “Same old stuff.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “You can go see Ash.”

“Now?” His head popped up, excited.

He glanced at Dean again, and Dean nodded slightly.

“Only if you want to.” Joanna smiled at him.

Michael waved goodbye to us before running out to the car.

Joanna laughed. “I, uh, I’d better get going before he hotwires the car and drives himself. Goodbye.”

“Bye.” Sam waved as she hurried to the car.

Dean wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we turned back to the car.

“Ya know, it’s too bad.” Sam sighed.

“Oh, they’ll be fine.” Dean shook his head.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant Michael. He’ll always know there are things out there in the dark… he’ll never be the same, you know?” He sighed. “Sometimes I wish that…”

“What?” I looked up at him.

“I wish I could have that kind of innocence.”

We turned to lean on the car, watching as Joanna and Michael drove off. I leaned into Dean’s side, and Jinx whined, scratching at our feet.

“If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could too.”

Previous Ep: Hell House (1.17)

Next Ep: Provenance (1.19)

[magdalenadaniels]

THE LOST LAMB CHARACTER STUDY

FULL NAME: Magdalena Ameena Daniels BIRTH-DATE: May 12th, 1993 AGE: Twenty-seven  STAR-SIGN: Taurus GENDER IDENTITY: Cisfemale (she/her) ORIENTATION: Closeted homosexual/homoromantic OCCUPATION: Church Pianist/Organist TRIGGERS: Death, suicide, alcoholism, hints of homophobia, NSFW

The Beginning…

Lights flickered in the bathroom of the Daniels’ household. A storm was swirling outside the concrete walls of the home as the screams of a woman vibrated over the thunder that in itself, demanded to be heard. With a final cry from the new mother came the first of many from the first and only child brought into the world by Adam and Ameena Daniels.

“It’s a girl!” The father chirped, pulling their blessing into his arms.

But something wasn’t right. Whereas Adam’s eyes welled up with tears of joy, Ameena’s eyes glazed over and stared up at the trembling popcorn ceiling. The tub that was filled with warm water was now crimson, tainted with the blood of a beautiful daughter, wife and mother. Turns out that the newborn child wasn’t the only soul to wail into the night as the lights continued to flicker before going out completely.

Seven Years Later…

“I love you mommy.”

A little girl’s voice echoed through the empty cemetery, her small hands resting a bouquet of daisies against a tombstone marked with the name Ameena Daniels. She tugged at the hand of her father to kneel down with her in prayer. He obliged, pulling a cross from beneath his shirt and holding it between cupped hands.

“Father of all, we pray to you for Ameena, and for all those whom we love but see no longer. Grant to them eternal rest. Let light perpetual shine upon them. May his soul and the souls of all the departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.” He prayed, pressing chapped lips to the rosary before the girl next to him began her own prayer.

“In your hands, O’ Lord, we humbly entrust our Ameena. In this life you embraced her with your tender love; deliver her now from every evil and bid her eternal rest. Welcome my mommy into paradise where there will be no pain, but peace and joy with your Son and the Holy Spirit forever and ever. Amen.”

“Amen.” He repeated before putting the rosary back beneath his shirt. “Come now, Magdalena. We mustn’t be late to supper with grandma. We’ll be back next Sunday, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.” She quipped, getting up and taking his hand again to make their way back to the car.

Nine Years Later…

“Shh… You’re going to get us caught!” Magdalena whispered in between kisses shared in a closet during her church’s youth group. Her hands wandered over their bare shoulders as kisses were peppered down her neck and to her chest. Her pale blue button up that was a part of her uniform was undone, halfway hanging off her slender frame.

“No one comes back here, Lena. It’s okay.” The voice replied, but they didn’t whisper. They had no secrets to hide. Their lips returned to Lena’s, young and greedy hands finding their way to places they shouldn’t be.

She felt like she was on cloud nine. She knew the sins she was committing as she slid completely out of her shirt, pulling off her rosary and letting it drop to the ground. She lifted herself up onto a table, it creaking loudly in protest as she hiked up her skirt and wrapped her legs around her lover’s waist. Hands then found themselves in unholy places for two teenagers. In the same breath that she moaned a familiar name, the closet door creaked open and the light cast a yellow glow over the two of them.

“Father!” Lena gasped, quickly scrambling out from underneath the other teenager to grab her shirt in order to protect what modesty she had left.

Adam stood in the doorway, taking in a deep breath before leaning down to pick up the rosary that had been his wife’s. He gave it to her recently on her sixteenth birthday. Magdalena stared at her father in fear, holding a hand out for the jewelry to be returned. In no moment’s hesitation, he shoved it into his own pocket before grabbing his daughter by the arm and pulling her from the closet.

“Get yourself cleaned up and meet me in the car.” His eyes burned holes into her soul. Holes deeper and hotter than any scorched before. As she hurried out of the room, Adam turned back to the other teen now quickly putting what clothes that had come off back onto their body. “As for you, Elizabeth–” He paused to take a deep breath. “I will be having a word with your parents. You will not taint my daughter and I will make sure of that.” He didn’t give the girl a chance to respond before turning away and slamming the closet door behind him.

Three Years Later…

It had been a year and a half since Magdalena decided to leave her hometown and go off to college. It had been something her father disapproved of and was the source of a lot of arguments. As heavy bass thumped through the walls of the college fraternity, she could remember the day the left like it was yesterday.

“If you leave, you are not welcome back here, Magdalena.” Her father stood between her and the front door.

She dropped her suitcase, going up to her father with a sneer painted across her face. “Why would I ever come back here? So I can join the stupid church and be daddy’s little girl– just too perfect to be full of so much sin? To speak words of love just to underline them with hate?” She shook her head as she went to grab her keys. “I hope I never see this town again. I hope I never see the people in it.”

Adam furrowed his brows in frustration. “This is not you!” He boomed, reaching out for her hand as he started to whisper the same prayer she heard every single time she made a mistake. Dear God, let my daughter repent her sins, but with about 100 more meaningless words.

Lena jerked away, picking her things back up. “Shut up! Do you think He hears you? Do you think He cares? A God that does what He does in this world is no God in my eyes. I don’t need your prayers. Now, let me go.” She pushed past him, yanking the door open and walking out.

“You’ll end up going to Hell, Lena! I am only trying to protect you!”

She laughed, making it to her car and tossing her things into the back. “Fuck you!” Were the last words she spoke to her father before leaving and they haven’t spoken since.

Now she sits between some guy and his girlfriend, sharing sloppy kisses and sips of vodka from plastic cups. Her breath could start a fire if you placed a match before it. She giggled as she pulled away pick up her now ringing phone. When she saw it was her father, she declined the call only to pull herself in closer to the girl next to her. It was then that her phone rang again, his face popping up to taunt her, and again, she ignored it. That was until about three more calls later. She got up, excusing herself to the backyard to answer her phone.

“Stop calling me! I told you I don’t want to ta–”

She was cut of by the muffled voice of her uncle. They had found her father in the church bathroom, a self inflicted gunshot wound to the head. He said that he left a note and told her when his funeral would be and before she hung up he said, “Just pray that your father makes it to his rightful destination. He was a good man. Pray he doesn’t end up going to Hell.”

Six Days Later…

The ivory casket lowered into freshly dug dirt. She could smell the Earth as it wafted through her senses. Her teeth clenched as they released the straps used to put her father in the ground. It was as if an iron rod were sliding down her throat, the overwhelming sensation of guilt burning all the way down into the pit of her stomach. She remembered when she was caught in the church closet and how the holes he stared into her were the worst at the time. Funny how she didn’t even know that on a scale that was only a five and this, well, you know how people save their tens. Tears threatened to leave her eyes, but she quickly slid on her over-sized sunglasses to hide the emotion.

“Now, if anyone would like to say a few words.” The pastor ended his prayer with the invitations, eyes looking in her direction. “Lena?”

It took her a moment, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” Her voice cracked as she pushed her way through the small crowd of people. All she wanted to do was get away from the guilt that swam through her mind. It had all come to head and for the frist time, Magdalena truly felt that her father’s suicide had been her own doing. She was callous and cruel. She was disobedient and full of sin. He couldn't live with the thought of his ruined daughter and there was no one to blame but herself. 

Dearest Magdalena,

      I am so sorry to have failed you as a father. I failed in saving your mother, I failed at saving myself and most disappointingly, I failed saving you. Forgive me for this final, damning sin and just know that I will forever and always love you. Don’t pray for me. It is too late. However, it is not too late for you. Please save yourself like I never could. Goodbye my beautiful.

The words were memorized. Of course they were memorized. They could never not be permanently etched into brain and as they repeated themselves over and over again, she found herself at the local Gas ‘N Dash, slipping a couple mini bottles of Stoli into her dress pockets and her bra. She was careful not to let anyone see before grabbing a bottle of water and making her way to the checkout. No one would question a grieving daughter whose father just ended his life in the town church.

She stepped outside after making her purchase and opened her water only to dump it out on the ground. A puddle formed around her feet until the plastic was empty. Then, she quickly got into her car, removing all the stolen bottles of liquor of refilling the bottle. Her car floor was littered with empty bottles and smelled of vodka and bile. It has been like this for so long that she didn’t even notice how bad it had gotten. All she could think about was the burn of the alcohol in her throat as she put the bottle to her lips and took a long drink. 

The Rest… 

It had been a week since Magdalena had been kicked out of school. Her grades had plummeted, she had too many absences and when she did show up to class it was either hungover or still intoxicated. The last straw was bringing a bottle of vodka to class, without switching it over to a water bottle first. She had all her things packed and the only place left to go was to her uncle’s house back in Wheeler, Indiana. He already had everything ready for her to go and somehow managed to convince her to go to AA meeting.

To her disbelief, the meetings worked and she was able to sober up with the support of her uncle. Then, she started going back to church on Wednesday… then, on Sundays and by the time she was twenty-three she was converted back to her religion and born anew.

She spent the next three years trying to become independent. She landed a job with the church, saving up enough money to move out on her own and finally be the adult she was meant to be. Her life was finally on the right track and she was doing a great job at keeping her demons hidden.

That was until Cassie went missing.

She had already felt herself slipping when all the chaos started, but upon hearing the news, something inside her snapped. She found herself going back to that place she was in after her father’s funeral, driving towards the place where it all started. She only went to get some coffee, too afraid to sleep. Then a mini bottle of Stoli caught her attention and the next thing she knew she was dropping the bottle and multiple other small items on the counter, hoping and praying the cashier didn’t notice and, from what she knows, they didn’t realize what she was doing.

[skyflyinginaction]

Shinhiro Aragaki Transulations from the Persona 3 Portable Fanbook

[sidebar]

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[main body]

[handwritten title at top] Gaki-san Cafeteria

Profile Name: Shinjiro Aragaki Sex: Male Birthday: 1991/8/11 [This profile uses year/month/day format.] Blood type: A Group: Gekkoukan Academy Upper Class Year 3 Class C (Suspended) Club: Unaffiliated

Ugh...  Me? Having a blog? So lame... Still, everyone's doing it, so I figured I'd give it a shot. Dunno what's with the goofy title. I'm just gonna write whatever I want. So uh, maybe gimme some ideas for posts?

Well... Might as well pass the time while I'm here. Anyway... enjoy?

Favorite Sites: [banners] A Dog's Heart [in snail] Sea slug [to right] Umiushi Family Cooking [white text, bottom right] Official Site

[large white text below blog page] I'm keeping my eyes peeled. Because there's an unimaginable way back...

[main body]

Aragaki, the lone wolf who sticks out like a sore thumb at nightly meetings, is from the same orphanage as Sanada. Three years ago, Aragaki was a member of the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad, where Sanada awakened the power of Persona within him. However, he wasn't able to fully control his powers. One day, a horrible accident occurred and a number of people were driven mad. Aragaki's Persona went berserk and snatched away the life of an innocent bystander. Despondent, Aragaki dropped out of school and began aimlessly roaming the streets at night. In order to restrain his Persona ability, whenever Aragaki is faced with danger, he takes a suppressant drug - although it has its side effects. Aragaki only returned to the SEES to bear his past deeds. Aragaki gave his life as a final apology to those tied to the past and unable to move forward, saying: "I'm the only one who deserves to rot in hell."

[at bottom:]

Shinjiro Aragaki

[left column]

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Like A Whole Nother World

Category: Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad 2009/9/3 (Thu) 23:18

People are taking my return to the SEES really nicely... What the hell happened. Back when it was just me and Aki and Kirijo, the lounge felt way too big... But with all the new members, it's stuffed. Girls, a little kid, and even a dog... Some real variety in this lineup. Did Aki and Kirijo just get swept up in all that?

And on top of that, they're all treating me real good, even though they barely know me. The 2nd years think I bailed their asses out at the meeting place, when really I was just chasing off some pests. Either way, they're being real nice to me.

I don't bother with school or club activities or whatever, so I can focus all my energy on battle. Hit me up whenever you're heading off to Tartarus. I mean, that's why I came back here in the first place.

COMMENT Comments (4) ・ Trackback (0)

2009/9/4 (Fri) 01:23 JUN☆P-

Never gonna forget the hero at the meeting spot, dude. You totally bailed us out. With Aragaki-san on our side, we're like a hundred-man army!

2009/9/4 (Fri) 18:51 Yukaricchi♥

So you helped found the club, Aragaki-senpai... Thank you so much for saving us. I think you might actually be a really good guy, deep down...?

2009/9/4 (Fri) 21:00 Aigis

Koromaru-san reports that you often give him treats. It seems you two have become fast friends. Aragaki-san, you are rather reserved.

2009/9/4 (Fri) 23:06 Gaki

Oh come on, are you guys really kicking things off with a bunch of embarrassing comments? Hundred-man army, good guy... Don't just make stuff up about me. Ugh, I dunno how to deal with this.

[righthand column]

Boy's & Girl's Event

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Escapade

Category: Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad 2009/9/6 (Sun) 21:55

Under the full moon, a Shadow appeared, as promised. I hang out at Escapade plenty, but this time everyone on the floor was complaining about the power being on the fritz. I guess that was an omen or something that a Shadow was about to appear. Can't let things like that slip you by.

But man, there were some real annoying tagalongs last night. Junpei thought he was gonna party his ass off, the poor guy. That chick from Strega was totally stringing him along, but Junpei still managed to be worried about her. Maybe I'm being too harsh, but pure-hearted guys like him are the ones that fall for that kind of thing.

But still, the chick's Persona was really something... Might be worth worrying about. I think I'll pop my head into the hospital too.

[screenshot:]

Junpei Iori

Hey, uh... I just wanna know one thing... Was that really all just an act?

COMMENT Comments (4) ・ Trackback (0)

2009/9/6 (Sun) 22:23 Yukaricchi♥

I mean, Junpei's so unsubtle about things like this... I bet he's going to visit at the hospital again today. Maybe if Junpei keeps talking to her, Chidori-san will start to open her heart... Or maybe I'm naive for even thinking that?  

Boy's & Girl's Event

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Passing the Persona Torch

Category: Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad 2009/9/15 (Tue) 22:36

Man, you guys are a real pain. Though I guess I can't be so quick to judge if Koro-chan hangs with you...

⬤ Questions From Persona Users ⬤

1. How did it feel when your Persona awakened?

I don't remember anything from back then...

2. What did you think when you saw your Persona?

Don't really care, that's just how he looks. He's Aki's Persona's brother. I mean, me and Aki go way back. You couldn't separate us even if you tried.

3. What's your favorite attacking strategy?

I'm not a big fan of whittling enemies down bit by bit. Better to give 'em one big hit and knock 'em dead, all in one go.

4. Any Shadows you have trouble with?

I don't got any weak points. I mean, if your Persona is weak, that just means your heart is weak.

5. What do you want to do when we're done fighting?

Hell if I know. I just want to take responsibility for what I've done. I think I'm just about there. After that... Aki, it's your turn.

COMMENT Comments (4) ・ Trackback (1)

2009/9/15 (Wed) 19:47 Aki

So it's my turn... Got it. Shinji, it may very well be because of my influence that the power of Persona was awakened within you...

[left column]

Boys & Girl's Event

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What Are You Weirdos, a Cosplay Group?

Category: Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad 2009/9/16 (Wed) 22:58

Come on... I am not gonna participate in your little cosplay thing. The bus stop was one thing, but this time you　want me to wear a tailcoat? What? Is that a butler costume? Like I'm gonna play some servant role.

Oh, and when we're going off to Tartarus, don't expect me to act like we're going on a picnic, or whatever. When a Shadow pops out, I want to look like a grown-up warrior. We didn't get this far by being stylish.

I mean, if you're fighting to win, then I'll quit whining. Just don't mess around too much. And don't forget that lives are on the line.

COMMENT Comments (4) ・ Trackback (0)

2009/9/17 (Thu) 19:48 Yukaricchi♥

Please don't call us all "weirdos"! Our leader is the one who's into dressing up. I'm a victim too.

2009/9/17 (Thu) 22:39 JUN☆P-

That's the first time I've seen you hatless, Aragaki-san. ...And your head looks totally normal. So disappointing...

2009/9/17 (Fri) 19:29 Aki

I've never brought this up, but... Junpei, what do YOU look like with your hat off? I mean, even when you went swimming at the beach, you refused to take it off.

2009/9/17 (Fri) 21:46 Gaki

What kind of weird ideas are you having about people's heads... Hey Aki, meet me at the strategy room for a tactical debriefing on stealing Junpei's hat.

[right column] Boy's & Girl's Event Public Post

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Haven't Seen a Movie In Ages

Category: Posts 2009/9/23 (Wed) 22:26

Man, I haven't been to the movies in ages. It's a lot nicer to go on your own, but... Well, if you're inviting me, you must be kind of a weirdo. I guess I don't mind coming along though, kills some time.

But like, did you pick that movie on purpose? "Woof-Meow Kingdom"... We were surrounded by family, made me weirdly sweaty. And the climactic scene where they got dragged in the river... That was... Well, whatever...

Right, I need to give Koro-chan the special dog food and assorted bones I got on the way home. The leash we use on walks is filthy, so maybe I should get a new one, too... Oh, and I'm going to give him a bath later tonight. Shoot, I forgot to get a massage brush...

Anyway, do you think Koro-chan's good at doggy paddling? Never know when something bad might happen around water...

[screenshot:]

> Somehow, Aragaki's eyes seem red...

COMMENT Comments (3) ・ Trackback (0)

2009/9/24 (Thu) 10:00 Aigis

Koromaru-san is profoundly moved by your exceptional treatment of him, Aragaki-san.

2009/9/24 (Thu) 19:13 Fuu＊ka

Aragaki-senpai, you're a real animal lover, aren't you? Nobody who likes animals is a bad person, or so they say. I'll have to cook up something nice for Koro-chan too!

[advertisement:]

Garlic ・　Olive Oil ・ Pepperoncini

Paella

Family Cooking

Airing Weekly, Sunday 7 PM SMATV Network Kismet Publishing

September edition of the textbook now on sale. If not at your local bookstore, go here → to order online.

[button:] I Want It!

[left column]

Boys & Girl's Event Public Post

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Evening Walk

Category: Posts 2009/9/26 (Sat) 23:14

You guys keep going off about how taking a walk at night soothes the soul, and I kinda have to agree. I used to kill time at night by hanging out in back alleys or clubs, but I guess it's not so bad doing something more healthy with my evenings. And this is so weird, but taking a nice walk makes me want to make dinner for Koro-chan.

It's fall and everything's being harvested, which makes it the season for eating. You guys need to remember to eat up and stay healthy. Or else you're gonna end up bedridden, like our leader was. What would you even do if a shadow popped out then? Well, I guess everything's going good on that front, so it's fine for now. Just remember to get a nice square meal in every day.

[screenshot]

Shinjiro Aragaki

You hungry? I'll fix you something when we get home.

Girl's Event Public Post

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The Trick to Cooking

Category: Cooking 2009/9/27 (Sun) 23:47

Fall's the season for eating, but I don't think that fancy kitchen we have is getting any use. The fridge is full of sports drinks and milk, the cupboards are crammed with protein shakes and cup noodles and junk food... It's messed up. Do you people seriously never cook? We didn't even have a good set of utensils, so I brought some in. Yamagishi's the only one who seems excited about cooking, but she doesn't have the basics down yet. Don't get me wrong, enthusiasm's great, but...

Well, if you've heard someone say that cooking is an act of love, it probably came from someone who's mastered their basics. Doesn't matter how much love you pour into your cooking, if you mess up some fundamental part, it's not gonna taste good. A super common mistake beginners make is ignoring what the recipe says and improvising instead. Get your basics down pat, then you can switch things up. Remember, you don't gotta rush it. Doesn't matter what you're doing, taking it one step at a time is key.

COMMENT Comments (2) ・ Trackback (0)

2009/9/28 (Mon) 18:51 Fuu＊ka

Aragaki-senpai, thank you... You put it pretty bluntly, but you're trying to help, aren't you? I'll start working my way up with simple things like onigiri. If you'd like, feel free to come sample my work?

2009/9/28 (Mon) 19:52 Mitsuru

Aragaki, I'm rather surprised at how good you are at cooking. I wouldn't say you surpass my family's professional chef, but your food was indeed exquisite. Perhaps eating together with everyone isn't so bad, every once in a while.

[right column]

Girl's Event

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Making Things Right

Category: Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad 2009/10/3 (Sat) 02:45

[screenshot]

Shinjiro Aragaki

...They're in your hands now. I believe in you.

[post body]

So tomorrow's the long-awaited full moon, huh. And you know another huge Shadow's gonna pop out. But I never thought the full moon would fall on tomorrow's date, of all days... I can't bring myself to call it a coincidence.

It's not like I think I won't be coming back, but with what I have in the palm of my hand... Well, I can't tell if it's a coincidence or a cruel prank. And the whole time I sit here agonizing about it, the pocketwatch in my palm keeps on ticking. If I had to name the one thing I can never change, it'd be my past self. Who's bound by their past now? It's not just me... So, the only thing left for me to do is to make things right. Because no matter what I choose, I don't got much time left...

I'm not gonna write anything more here, I promise. You don't have to forgive me for my selfishness. And no matter what happens, don't you dare cry...

COMMENT Comments (5) ・ Trackback (0)

2009/10/7 (Wed) 18:36 Fuu＊ka

Aragaki-senpai, they said you wouldn't wake up... When I first read this post, I didn't get it at all, but... Looking back, I think you knew what you were about to do...

2009/10/7 (Wed) 20:28 Mitsuru

Of course I was aware of the situation between Aragaki and Amada. It was a failing on my part that it came to this. From hereafter, the Kirijo family will dedicate all available resources to his medical care. Perhaps Aragaki's strong spirit will grant us a sliver of hope...

2009/10/8 (Thu) 01:36 JUN☆P-

I know you were ready to give your life in this battle, but... Now that it's actually happened, it hurts like hell... Aragaki-san, please wake up...

2009/10/8 (Thu) 20:38 Aki

When I thought Shinji was all but gone, he whispered, "This is what I wanted." While some may dismiss his way of making things right, I would not count myself among them. Everyone, we need to face forward!

2009/10/9 (Fri) 18:46 Amadaman

I've decided to keep fighting here. Until Aragaki-san returns, I will protect his place.

[bubble at top left]

If You Get Into A Relationship...

Social links with Aragaki don't turn romantic until you max out your S. Link rank with him. But once you do get to max, if you call him one more time, you can have the protagonist confess to him. After a short period of heated questioning, you can enter Aragaki's room. Acting much unlike the Aragaki you've seen so far, he will embrace the protagonist and make an unexpectedly bold move. While it's quite the mushy event, if you do get in a relationship, he'll actually be quite assertive. By the way, the protagonist confesses to him in the dorm lounge. If you think about it, Yukari and Junpei and all the other members would be right next to them the whole time...

[screenshot:]

Shinjiro Aragaki

You're uh... not married, so don't get this wrong, but...

[bubbles at top right]

Sun Mon Tue Wed Thur Fri Sat Break

[center of circle:] Shinjiro Aragaki

[by tarot card:] Moon

[spiky bubble at bottom:] Shinjiro Aragaki

[to left of portrait, beneath "Persona capable to summon once Moon's commu rank reaches the max:]

Sandalphon, the Angel That Conveys Prayers

[tag labeled 27]

From the Iwatodoi Dormitory Lounge ......Edition 27

[junpei:] Man, Aragaki-san's cooking is the best. [koro:] Woof!! [aegis:] Koromaru-san says he enjoys it too. [aragaki:] H, hey. You guys suck at eating balanced meals. Try to take care of yourselves. [mitsuru:] I agree completely. Akihiko could stand to eat something aside from gyudon. [Rice with beef and vegetables.] [sanada:] I, I eat more than just gyudon! I get plenty of protein shakes in too!

[next column] [mitsuru:] Ugh... You're giving me a headache. [junpei:] Gyudon and protein shakes and nothing else... That's uh, really... [aragaki:] Don't act like you're any different. You basically live off cup ramen. Balance your diet. [junpei:] Uh, well... I uh, how do I put this, just like, think it's good... [fuuka:] Okay, I'll keep balance in mind and cook something up! [aragaki] How about you focus on learning how to cook, first. ...Although, you can go ahead and start practicing.

[vertical line of text in center:]

Brotherly Lines

[column on right]

S. Link Rank 3 Female Protagonist

Look at the balance in these meals... Do you guys live off this...?

S. Link Rank 4 Female Protagonist

...You're not going to leave those vegetables on your plate, are you?

S. Link Rank 7 Female Protagonist

Get some good sleep. ...'Night.

S. Link Rank 9 Female Protagonist

Feels like I got a place to come home to.

S. Link MAX Female Protagonist

Now that you're here, I don't have a care in the world...

[screenshot to left:] Shinjiro Aragaki

Does everyone here eat like crap...?

[block labeled Girl's Side] Like An Older Brother

Shinjiro Aragaki always makes sure his fellow club members make it home safe. While he comes off as rather blunt, he's actually deeply worried about everyone's unhealthy eating habits. Following the protagonist's advice, he throws a party. While putting everything together for the party, he teaches Fuuka (who is hopeless at cooking) how to cook. Drawn by the smell, their dormmates gather, and the lounge springs to life. While everyone enjoys the meal, Aragaki steps out for a bit, and asks the protagonist for a private chat. Then, gazing at the protagonist with a gentle smile, he says, "I'm leaving Sanada and everyone else in your hands."

[screenshot to right:]

Aegis

Koromaru-san is distraught.

[caption below screenshot:] Even Koromaru-san can tell how bad Fuuka's cooking is. But with Aragaki teaching her, she'll be able to make delicious food someday.

TRANSULATIONS NOT MINE THEY ALL BELONG TO THE LOVELY (https://kasael.tumblr.com) ALL CREDIT OF THIS ENTIRE TRANSULATION BELONGS TO THEM NOT ME DON’T REBLOG WITHOUT CREDITING THEM FIRST.

[memorylang]

Fathers’ Day, Familiarity and Faith | #38 | June 2020

If my COVID-19 experiences were a Netflix Original Series, I feel someone could title it, "The Groundskeeper."

Synopsis: Returned Peace Corps Volunteer from Mongolia, now back in Nevada, learns a thing or two about hedge trimming and much more about life living.

The inspirational hit series stars award-winning memoirist Daniel Lindbergh Lang, director and editor. “Please support the official release.”

Quirky thoughts keep me sane. More on these later, of course. 

The U.S. celebrated Father’s Day 2020 on June 21, so I commemorate it with reflections from being my father’s son. 

The adventures follow both my Mothers’ Day reflections (#36) and Easter in America stories (#35). I focus now on continued COVID-19 adventures in yard work, sorting and reminiscing. 

Chronologically, we pick up from my stateside Week 11 (May 15-21), when my sisters came home from their unis’ spring semesters. With them as collaborators, I continued sorting our family’s memorabilia. After a few weeks’ interlude 'round Memorial Day, big changes occurred Weeks 14 through 16 (June 5-25) through Fathers’ Day.  

I also consider Pentecost and the Spirit. Easter 2020 ended Sunday, May 31, so we’re in a fruitful new time. In fact, I write here results from the smattering of routines I shared before. 

Lastly, to clarify, many assume my dad’s Asian. But that’s untrue. He’s Austrian-American. That’s where I get my “Lang” surname. Ethnically, I’m about half Austrian. Culturally, too, Dad’s family influenced me far more than Mom’s when I grew up. My mom was ethnically full Chinese, hence that half.

Now back to Dad!

Father’s Perspective on My Boyhood 

During my 2020 time home since Peace Corps’ evacuation, Dad often prods me to take on projects he sees around the yard. So, I do yard work. I don’t like desert heat, so I usually work the daily tasks an hour or two at dawn, sometimes dusk. Picture three months this way.

But Dad would tend to demand a certain perfection on many projects, expecting me out there working when there’s work to do. I’d rather let nature do as it pleases. Peace Corps experiences taught me decorated yards generally feel overrated. When I’m older, I feel I’d much rather have my family frequent parks to get our yard fix. Nonetheless, yard work lets me chat with God, who reminds me empathize. 

It is difficult to say, "I serve the Father," if I do not serve my father. 

With this in mind, I consider the patient progress of waiting while working often. 

Dad grew up in rural America’s Midwest from the mid-20th century. Dad’s parents and community were largely Austrian-American Catholics. Dad’s grandfather immigrated with Dad’s great-grandfather because land in Austria was scarce, late-19th century, yet plentiful in Kansas. My dad grew up on a farm as a third-generation Austrian-American. He funded his higher ed. through U.S. military service and numerous side jobs, including those in teaching and sales. 

Through Dad, I’m a fourth-generation Austrian-American—though, only second-generation Chinese-American, through Mom. I wasn’t quite on a farm, having grown up between Midwestern suburbs and an urban West. Still, Dad regularly tasked siblings and I with yard work.

An Energetic Kid, Ages 4-7 

Now this gets interesting!

This mid-May 2020, my younger sister and I unearthed Christmas letters our parents (mostly Dad) had written to Dad’s siblings—my uncles and aunts—since before 2000. Turns out, our mom kept hard copies in the bins beside her desk. From these, Sister and I read pretty enjoyable pieces about our child selves. 

Here I share Dad’s tales from grade school me in Indiana (used with permission): 

2001: "Daniel is 4 years old now and is looking forward to kindergarten.  He likes outdoor activities and he is quite strong for his age.  He can do a lot of sit ups and push ups already.  He likes to walk with [his mom] at the airport, which is nearby." 

2002: "Daniel is five years old.  He is in kindergarten.  He is [...] very competitive.  He is in the same school as [his older brother] and is rapidly learning to read now.  He is good at math, and he studies very hard." 

2003: "Daniel is six years old.  He is very competitive and naughty.  He always keeps track of the books he reads and comes home to tell us how many books he has finished.  His goal is to reach 100 books this year.  He is over 90 already.  Well, he likes to pester [his brother a lot].  He thinks that is fun. [...]"

2004: "Daniel is seven.  He is goal oriented and a 'do'er.  He is good at making all kinds of crafts.  He is our family's talented teacher.  He taught [his younger sister] how to read before she went to kindergarten.  He also gives homework assignments to the others, except [his older brother].  He always pesters [his brother] as usual." 

God graced me with energy as a kid. 

I noticed three themes. For one, I seemed to follow Dad’s lead in filling my time productively. He served in the U.S. Army National Guard and emphasized self-discipline. As a civilian family practitioner, too, he advocated for daily exercises, such as sit-ups, push-ups and walking. I seemed to follow suit.

On the other hand, I was a kiddo with an older brother, and I didn’t mind expending plenty spare energy to bother him. Thankfully I stopped pestering when I grew up with enough self-awareness to know good people don’t intentionally troll. Uni helped. 

Curiously, I noticed the letters seemed to note many of my interests resembling Mom’s. Arts, reading and studying seemed more like Mom’s interests than Dad’s, yet I hadn’t realized my similarities to Mom back then. Of course, Dad values education, too.

Studious Beyond Belief, Ages 13-19

As I went through elementary school, Dad’s military service included deployments overseas to Afghanistan (2005) and Iraq (2007). In 2008, our family moved from southern Indiana to North Las Vegas, Nev., where I started middle school. Since my younger sister and I hadn’t found letters from Dad’s years deployed with the others letter, we figured Mom wrote them. By 2009’s end, Dad retired as a lieutenant colonel. But he continued work elsewhere, including in a dozen nations to indigenous peoples of the Americas. 

Here were Christmas letters from my adolescence on. Coincidentally, I noticed the first couple we found both came from my last years at respective schools. 

2010: “Danny, 13, is finishing at [...] a magnet [middle] school associated with math, science and technology. He [earned last year] a 4.0 [grade-point] average. He received a letter this past week from a magnet high school stating that he was the type of student they were looking for. [I, Dad, think Danny] is also in the National Junior Honor Society [service group]. [...] Danny continues to have to be at the school bus stop at 5:50 in the morning.” 

2014: “Danny is the ultimate study robot, with his inhuman ability to study for hours on end in place of sleep, or other usual activities for high schoolers.  He attended NV Boys State this past June, and he has risen to the rank of Division News Editor within [Kiwanis] Key Club--a HS service group.  Danny and [his younger sister] also attended Key Club activities in CA in Nov. [...] As this is his senior year [...], he should be starting to apply for colleges now, but [...] he has not applied to Yale, which is causing his mother to feel that she is a ‘failure’ if none of her kids get accepted at this prestigious school--it’s used by Chinese mothers as a guilt trip for their kids! [...] He also received an AP with Honors award [from his magnet high school].  He presently is in the ‘top 10’ students in his class ranking.  But if he doesn’t get his applications in, then there is always UNLV [Las Vegas]!” 

2016: “Daniel is now a sophomore at UNR (Reno) in the Honors Program, and is an honors ambassador. He says he has 1 major in journalism with 3 minors at the present time, and he works at the library when time permits. He also completed an internship in publishing during the summer session, when he stayed in Reno and frugally survived during the summer by ‘couch surfing’ at several different locations. Several of us attended his confirmation at Easter in Reno. He also [...] presented at a few [conferences]. Additionally, he is involved in [the Kiwanis] Circle K service group on campus, as well as the Knights of Columbus, and he sings in the choir at the local Newman Center. Based on his Facebook postings, he seems to be enjoying college immensely. [...]” 

I definitely loved service groups—and still do, if Peace Corps counts! 

Seeing these letters in 2020, I feel amused how Dad wrote of my later academic interests with distance. Dad’s 2002 line about 5-year-old me, “[Daniel] studies very hard,” escalated exponentially, noticeable by his 2014 line about 17-year-old me, “Danny is the ultimate study robot, with his inhuman ability to study for hours on end in place of sleep.” I figure my peers were similar, though… 

I feel amused, too, how Dad included Mom’s wanting me to pursue STEM careers. Chinese often expect this of their kids. In some sense, I’m glad Dad let me escape the Asian tendency and Mom’s ideal to have me pursue a Bachelor of Science. Back then, I contended a bachelor’s from the professional School of Journalism would still make me hireable. 

Sure enough, Peace Corps hired! 

Besides, I felt vindicated later when I learned my minors in English literature, Chinese studies and communication studies resembled my late mother’s fields of English literature and international relations... She clearly benefited from Liberal Arts. More on these in previous reflections, though. :)

Back From Mongolia

Snap back to March 2020, when I just returned to America after our COVID-19 evacuation from Mongolia. 

I was really into “Frozen II,” the cathartic film easing me back into the States. My first week back felt very different from those after. Because “Some Things Never Change,” I discerned to do “The Next Right Thing.” Waking to various “Frozen II” numbers of looping in my brain, days began with such thoughts. 

My first days, I often compared experiences to Mom’s when she raised my siblings and me. Despite being at home, I was alone. Dad worked away, plus siblings had school and work. (This preceded American schools canceling or moving online.) So, I felt confused what to do. 

I discerned I could tidy the house, serve where others couldn’t. Whether dishes to wash or rooms to clean, I addressed what I saw. I imagined Mom felt this way when my siblings and I attended school and Dad worked. 

I also considered my living father matters as much as my late mother. So, honoring Dad honors her, too. 

Dad always had yard projects he wanted me doing. I had to weed so much when I first returned. 

I felt insights, at least. I considered, weeds are eternal. Weeds will always grow on spiritual life. Weeds attempt to choke our crops’ life. We must uproot our weeds and prune dead areas to fortify new and better parts of being. The physical and spiritual are one. … Yet, weeds still annoy me. 

Noticeably, my labors seemed to confuse many in my family. They seemed mostly to recall the 2015 me who’d choose studying over chores any day. But I guess most hadn’t factored I’ve experienced plenty in my years away from home, especially during my months living alone cooking for myself in Mongolia. House tasks are necessary parts of life. 

Besides, I’d already been doing these tasks others seemed disinterested in, even back at Christmas 2019, when I sorted Mom’s books, and later during post-evacuation Week 9 (May 1-7), packing up Mom’s desk after three years gathering dust. I felt frustrated others seemed slow to accept I’ve changed since Peace Corps. I pray for grace.

The New Journey

June 6, 2020—just days after Pentecost and coincidentally one month to my 23rd birthday—marked one huge occasion. 

Dad remarried! 

I felt excited.

I also noticed a curious parallel in threes. For, on my family history adventures, I discovered something about Dad’s parents. In 1987, his mother's spouse passed away; on the third year, she married again, in 1990. 30 years later, my dad’s spouse passed away in 2017; on the third year, he married again, in 2020. Coincidences comfort me at times.

That day, I’d also finished revisions to submit my thesis to a different journal for publication. I’d tried before with one in June 2019 and February 2020, but unfortunately my work hadn’t fit within their scope. Still, the editor believed that  I could publish it in the right place! 

College Town Return

That Week 14 (June 5-11), Dad also purchased a house in Reno, Nev., where my kind stepmom may move, too. Dad requested aid moving things in Reno. My younger sister and youngest brother both opted out, so I went instead. I prefer Reno’s weather, anyway. 

In Reno again, I felt parallels to past years. 

Helping my youngest sister and her friend move from a condo and house to the new place, I recalled the many who helped me move between Reno homes during my undergrad. Honestly, I felt weird to think of my dad relocating to Reno, especially since I hadn’t known the area he chose existed during my years studying in town. 

Mongolia returned to mind, too, while I lugged belongings in and out of the condo, up and down stairs. Hard to believe that that was three months ago when Peace Corps evacuated us. Exactly three months before, March 9, 2020, was my first Monday in Nevada again. 

Writing of Mongolia, I also recalled every bellhop who's hauled my 23 kg (50 lbs.) luggage up stairs in Asia. God bless them. 

On the bright side, with helping the sister and friend move, Dad said I got stronger. That felt good. When he asked how many push-ups I could do, I said 50—my new personal record met just days before. When I started working out the month and a half prior, I could only do half that. 

Thanks to the lifting and yard work tasking me in Reno, I paused my fitness routines. I realized, I’ve enough strength and endurance for what I’d want to do. So now, having met the goals, I still work out, just less concerned about gains.

Tests of Faith

Back to that ‘groundskeeping.’

With Reno versus Vegas, I prefer hedges to palm trees. Hedges are more fun and less merciless. They leave my body less bloody than palm trees, too. Reno’s weather also keeps cooler. 

As you’d expect, yard work leaves plenty time to reflect, chat with God. In earlier days these chats opened with lamentations about the heat and constant tasks. But God graces peace.

Ultimately, Dad’s tasks need someone to do them. He’s busy working full-time out-of-town, and siblings still have activities they must or would rather do. So I volunteer. 

On the other side, Dad at times says he’ll compensate me once the bills are paid. There always seem bills to me, though. Since it’s been three months now, I try to think of this like the Kingdom. Whether or not I see rewards, I try to persevere. I must trust the Father to provide in time, no matter the wait. It’s a spiritual exercise. 

Pa says he’s glad I’m financially stable, too—My scholarships, grants and work study graduated me debt-free. Those seem good, I guess. 

So, spiritually exercising while laboring, I consider parables of workers in the field and masters. Christ spoke of such. Parables about fields and wages seem more nuanced after feeling comparable questions. 

I think, too, to re-education labor camps sometimes. During China’s Cultural Revolution, my mom’s parents—both teachers—were sent to those. So, my ‘toiling’ in Dad’s backyards are surely nothing compared to what my grandparents involuntarily endured. I can bear my ‘shackles.’ 

These bring me to privilege.

At the day’s end, I have places to stay, food to eat and stable internet. Many Americans and people worldwide face greater turmoil than these, perhaps including you, my reader. So, I try acknowledging my ‘hardships’ hardly compare. I try to focus prayers for the needier. Faith helps me through.

On a happy note, I just reached the Diamond League on Duolingo! So, life could definitely be worse...

The Climb

One day during Week 15 (June 12-18), after Dad came home at dusk from work, he asked me to get out the ladder to climb the backyard tree. I thought that was wistful thinking! 

Well, I had the time and realized he wanted me to climb after all. The tree had a fallen limb he wanted me to saw off, since I weigh less than him. I insisted I’d only climb with him around.

Well, he came around. 

I ascended and sawed four limbs! Before the climb, we thought I only had to address a single one. But as I climbed for it, I found more. Thankfully, these were thin limbs. Dad gave some advice from below, handed me our hand saw then left me while he took care of other tasks around the yard. I climbed higher, wedged my feet in semi-stable positions and got to work.

Atop, the wind blew, so the tree rocked. I clung high in a swaying tree. Good Lord. 

But I felt amazed, handling my saw even with my off-hand. I’d cling with one arm and saw with the other. When branches got stuck, I had to grab them, push and jerk them away from other sections to send them down. Dad had me call out, “Timber!” With the final branch out, I let the saw fall. 

Success felt like redemption from that random tree I climbed the first culture-shocked day I returned to Vegas from Mongolia. This time I’d such control. My safety depended on it! Plus, I only grazed the back of my hand, as opposed to gashing my palm like the last time I left a tree. Less bleeding is better. 

By the end, my arms and legs trembled, not from worry but from muscle fatigue. Still, I felt empowered. Throughout my childhood, I could never climb a tree. Now I passed the physical I hadn’t expected a month and a half prior. 

All told, my climb took just half an hour.

Staying the Course 

In a week and a half, I turn 23! So I’ll be one (1) 23-year-old, hehe. Look forward to new reflections on how I’ve grown and changed. 

As an extension of my paternal family history projects, I started writing memorable quotes from Dad. My siblings and I wound up adapting these and more into our Fathers’ Day 2020 gift! Dad enjoyed our “Book of the Father” we printed. 

Meanwhile, America begins to slightly reopen amid COVID-19 conditions, and the post-solstice summer’s begun. So, I encourage us to, whenever possible, still #StayHome more than usual, wear our face masks, maintain physical distance and of course wash our hands. We’ll get through this.

And I hear some are struggling with loneliness, too—If you need someone to talk to, you can always count on me. It’s among the most challenging feelings, given we humans are social beings staying physically apart. Writing, phoning and video calls help me, at least. Feel free to reach out. I keep you and loved ones in my prayers.

Best wishes, and till we chat again.

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)