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gucciwins · 4 years ago

Text

it’s your birthday?

As luck would have it you once again find yourself in a breakout room with Harry

Word count: 3296

A/N: Hello friends, it’s a new semester and it felt only right to continue breakout room, a story that was well loved by you. The inspiration once again came to me during class and also because it’s Harry’s birthday. Thank you to the lovely @soullikestyles for reading this over. Here it is, enjoy!!!

I hope you love this, it is a continuation from Breakout Room

Please shoot me a message of what you thought!!!!

i love you, take care xx

_____

It's the start of a new semester. It's safe to say you did not make any friends last semester due to this ongoing pandemic, but what you did manage to get was a 3.9 G.P.A for the Fall semester. It was probably because you did not leave your apartment, and when you did, it was to go grocery shopping with your roommate, who would be dead without you because, as she liked to put it, you're the chef, and she's the taster.

Well, you maybe did make one friend.

Harry Styles.

He was the person to talk to you during a zoom breakout room in your women's gender studies course.

Sure, you were never in the same room again, but you might or might not have pinned his face during one of the professor's long ramblings that is no longer related to the course.

He was pretty to look at; you would never deny that.

No, with the floppy curls that he almost always seemed to run his hand through, then stopping when one of his rings got caught in a knotted ringlet. His camera would instantly turn off, and in thirty seconds, he was back as if nothing had happened. The glasses framed his face just right, making his eyes look soft and inviting. Also made his dimples stand out. He almost always wore a different colored cardigan. Your favorite from the semester was when he wore a multicolored cardigan. That looks like it was knitted; there was a hole by his heart. Honestly, you were hoping he had, would have made him even more endearing.

Also, might one day ask him to make you one, or he could even teach you. You're a fast learner and have patience.

He's got a great choice in clothing from what you was able to observe in such a short time—also a lovely personality.

After his initial email, you decided to answer, thus creating a chain of messages back and forth. He was honestly funny, and that was just on paper. He had asked for her number and said no, and he respected that. It doesn't mean they never helped each other in the class; Harry asking for more help than Y/N. She sent him over her notes and explained the readings he found harder to grasp.

As soon as finals week hit, she received her last email from him with the subject as Goodbye. It took you by surprise, and you erased the draft you had waiting for him that had your phone number wanting to keep talking to him. Still, clearly, he thought of them as just classmates for the semester, so without even opening his last email, you trashed it.

You felt guilty about it, so you then transferred it to your archives, where it sits with other unwanted emails.

_____

The holidays are over, and since you could not make the trip home, you celebrated with Amy, your roommate. You both help each other buy your family's presents, looking for the best discounts and adding extra items to get the free shipping. Together, well, mostly you as she handed you pieces of tape you wrapped present after present in brown wrapping paper. It was harder to tear and more comfortable to decorate in any way you wanted. On each box, it had everyone's name written in beautiful handwriting, courtesy of you. Then you would add snowflakes or stripes to make it stand out.

It was a success from their looks when each gift was open through the zoom call.

The month break flew by, and the next thing you knew, it was time to be back at your desk for hours of learning. It was fun until it wasn't sure there was a lot to look forward to, but you would miss sleeping all day and eating snacks in bed with no fear of forgetting to submit an assignment.

This semester you had four major courses. Psychology of Personality and Psychology of Aging were the two courses you were most looking forward to. You decided on taking the women's gender studies class called Politics of Sexuality. You had gotten the recommendation from the department's head to take it and did so without a second thought. Yes, fifteen units was a lot, but you were close to graduating, and you knew you could handle it.

The first week flew by because it was merely going over the syllabus. You had your camera on, but you did not bother to look at your other classmates. Sasha, a fellow person in your major, would be your study partner as she had been all semester. Sasha might not always be in the class section, but she did take the same professors and courses. It makes studying and taking notes easier. You know you won't always have Sasha, but having a study partner has ever made you do better.

February 1st. The start of the second week of the semester.

You woke up at seven, got the tea that Amy had ready for you, and were sitting at your desk by eight. Your professor droned on about the first chapter of the book. You felt confident knowing you understood the significant points.

It's 11:30, and your second course of the day is going to start. You were not looking forward to the class simply because Dr. Rossi had warned you he would be putting you into breakout rooms of two. That person would be your partner for the semester. You had a project due at the end of the semester, and he wanted you to be acquainted with someone rather than having a person working alone.

You sat there, Baby Yoda ceramic mug in hand, as you waited for your breakout room to load and to see who you were destined to work with for the next fourteen weeks.

There was a knock on your door that distracted you from seeing the video of someone else load.

"Sorry, I know you're in class, but I was wondering when lunch was to see how big of a snack I should have." Amy shoots you a small smile.

"No worries, Ames, I'm out at 12:45 and will need half an hour to cook, so roughly 1:30. Is that okay?" You tell her feeling a little awful, making her wait.

"It's perfect. Have a good class." Amy shuts the door.

As you hear the click, you turn back to your computer, and they're staring at you in a lavender cardigan with a white shirt underneath is the one and only Harry Styles.

His curls are shorter, meaning he recently got a haircut, and they are just growing back. You wished he had let it grow out, wanting to see how much more ruly they would have gotten.

You feel your face heat up, remembering you did not do your hair, instead of letting it sit messily in a low ponytail, small hair framing your hair. You were sure the black sweatshirt you had one had a hummus stain but too afraid to look down to check. You weren't even aware he was in this class; it shows you should be paying attention more to your classmates.

He shoots you a small smile, and you grimace, trying to force one out, but you're still a bit shocked.

You see his microphone go white, meaning he was about to speak. You leaned forward in anticipation, a bit desperate to hear his smooth accent through your computer speakers.

"Hello, it's been a while." Harry raises his glasses to hold back his hair.

You reach forward and unmute yourself. "Hello, Harry. It has been a while. It's a new year and everything." You joke.

He chuckles, scratching his chin. You aren't sure what to do; it was never this awkward the first time you chatted.

"Guess we're partners, huh."

"Apparently." You sigh, a bit loud, forgetting he can hear you.

"Ouch, don't need to sound too excited." He tells you not at all hiding his frown.

"No, I didn't." You stop not knowing how to go back from that. "Sorry, that was rude of me."

He nods, not saying anything more, and you take it as a sign to continue.

"I-i, well, after our last class ended, I figured that was that. You said goodbye in the last email, so I figured that was the end of our friendship, if you can even call it that."

"I thought my email would give the opposite impression, but not everything can translate as smoothly when talking." He tells you, which causes you to pause.

"Your email literally said goodbye," You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

He hides his smile, "My subject said goodbye, the content said quite the opposite. You did read it, right?"

You duck your head, not allowing yourself to meet his eye even through a computer screen, too embarrassed to be caught. "Well, no, I didn't. Hurt my feelings, just seeing the goodbye." You look up and see his eyes soften, giving you just a bit more courage to continue. "I've always struggled to make friends, I have like three good friends, and it's hard putting myself out there, and I didn't actually if you considered me a friend or not."

"Y/N" He breathes out your name.

You stop him before he can continue. "Do you mind if I read it now?"

Harry shakes his head.

You restore down the zoom and open up your Gmail on the split-screen. You find it reasonably quickly; you look up at him to see him patiently sitting back chipping at his nails. They are a pastel yellow; it makes you smile, knowing just yesterday you went from that color to a deep red.

[email protected]

Subject: Goodbye

Y/N,

It's been enjoyable emailing back and forth. I honestly would not have passed this class without you. I think you are brilliant and if I had you in every course, I would finish with A's in them all. So, thank you for having the patience to teach me.

Also, thank you for being my friend. I know we mostly talked about school work. Still, you did help me decide on what coat to buy for my sister, so I know that makes us friends, and I did help you get that switch for your little brother. (That was like trying to buy floor tickets for Lady Gaga.)

On another note, after emailing for twelve weeks, I was wondering if I could have your number. I would like the chance to give you a call and formally ask you on a date. I know we're in the middle of a pandemic, and dating is hard, but we can do zoom dates before we try in person.

I understand if it's a no, but I am really grateful to have met you.

Your friend (although I do want to try to be more)

Harry Styles

City Pointe Apt 32 (in case you want to send a care package, I would gladly return the favor)

"Oh, Harry," You inhale, "I'm so sorry."

"No worries." He shrugs.

You pause, thinking your next words. "I live in Rose Villa." Those were not the words you wanted to say, but you don't take it back.

"That's across the street from my building." He gasps. "We could have run into each other."

You nod. "Small world."

Harry brings his focus back to something you skipped over. "I realize you didn't mention the part of asking you on a date."

"Oh, I figured you over that now. It's been well over a month since I ignored your email." You grimace, starting to feel awful about it all over again.

"I guess it was email abandonment this time." He jokes.

You laugh, and it gets Harry laughing as well. He was always good at that, making you laugh and not be so serious even if he didn't know it.

"Y/N," Harry's voice was strong, no signs of laughter in his trace. You lock eyes as best you can through a computer screen. "I would still very much like to take you on a date."

A date with Harry.

You want to say yes, but it's like you're frozen.

"Can I say something else before you give me an answer?" You nod, waiting for him to go on. "Sarah Jones, do you know her?"

Sarah Jones, you rack your brain trying to place her.

The theater composer. She's written original tracks for the theatre department for the original plays they've done and remakes. She's won countless awards.

Sarah even won the talent show. Played a killer drum solo that no one else could ever think of topping.

If you're honest, she's the definition of your girl crush.

"We follow each other on social media. We met at a paint night; she was really easy to talk to." You tell him, remembering how sweet she was to you when she saw you walk in, and just as you were about to walk out, she introduced herself to you, asking to sit with you.

He nods. "Sarah is my roommate's girlfriend. Mitch and Sarah practically live together; he's so in love with her it truly is the sweetest thing. Back to the point, she overheard me talking about you to Mitch and spoke how she knew you. Then I proceeded to stalk your Instagram on her account. I hope that's not weird."

You laugh, and it causes Harry to calm down, "Not weird at all. I would have done the same thing, but as you can see, I rarely upload anything."

"Well, the things you do have, I think, are wonderful." He rambles on explaining how your beach photo on a bike with a pretty pink basket was one of his favorites and how cute you look wearing sweaters.

As endearing as Harry was being, you decided to put him out of his misery. "Harry," you interrupt.

"Yes."

"I'd love to go on a date with you."

"You would?" He gasps in surprise.

"Yes."

"That's fantastic. I think this is the best birthday gift I could have received." He tells you, but you're stuck on the last thing he said.

"It's your birthday?"

Harry smiles sheepishly. "Yes."

"Happy Birthday, Harry." You tell him softly, a big smile on your face.

A blush overtakes his face; you can tell he wishes to cover up his face with hands but holds back from doing so. "Thank you."

"Do you have any plans?"

"No, well. Mitch and Sarah are coming over for lunch in a bit. Then they are off to study at Sarah's for the week. Her roommates are gone for the week."

You frown, not liking that he'll spend the rest of his birthday alone.

"Would you-never mind" You stop yourself from being able to invite yourself over to celebrate with him?

"Hey, it's okay. Whatever you wanted to say, I wouldn't judge you, love." His voice was soft and reassuring.

"Well, I'd love to come over and hang out with you if that's okay. I can make us dinner, I make delicious enchiladas. Also, my carrot cake is to die for."

Harry is surprised at her offer but nods his head quickly. "That sounds wonderful, but you don't have to cook for me. We can order takeout."

She shakes her head. "Consider it my gift to you."

"Well, okay. Is six okay for you?" He bites his lip, not believing this is happening.

"Perfect."

You sit there smiling at each other.

When a message pops up overhead, "You have five minutes left before we join back as a group."

Your eyes go wide, having forgotten you were in class. "We didn't even discuss the assignment."

Harry shakes his head in laughter, a smile spreads over your face. He has an adorable laugh that just rings through your ears, and you can't wait to hear it in person.

"We've got time, now that it seems we'll be getting to know each other better."

You relax, settling a bit, you have weeks before the assignment is due.

"I'll email you my number, love. Easier to communicate for later."

"Sounds great." You respond.

_____

It's five-fifty, and you're standing outside his door. You're more than a little nervous. You're wearing high waisted jeans paired with a black off the shoulder top with floral embroidered sleeves. You decided against a sweater knowing the short walk would keep you warm enough. Your mask is red, with three small hearts stitched on the lower right side. Perfect for February.

You shift the items in your hand to the right and lift your hand up to knock. After three gentle knocks, you hear footsteps and take a step back.

"Hi," Harry breathes out, a big smile on his face.

"Hello, Harry, happy birthday."

"Thank you." He smiles wide, blessing you with his dimples. Definitely look better in person. "Please come in." He grabs some of the items from your hand and allows you to step in before locking the door behind you.

"Your mask is lovely. Did you make it?"

"I did!" You share excitedly. "My roommate, Amy, and I spent lots of our free time making a different kind. We took old shirts we no longer wanted and used for the material. It was a lot of trial and error, but we're pretty solid at it now. My embroidery could use some work, but I think it's lovely.

"It really is. Would you make me one?" He asks, staring at you as you pocket your mask. No longer needing it in his home.

"Yes, I'll send you pictures of the fabric I have, or you could come over, and I can teach you as well." You tell him, excited at the prospect.

"Sounds like a wonderful date." You nod, feeling your body get warm at the word date because today could also classify as a date.

Harry knocks you out of your head when calling your name. "Turned the oven on like you requested." He informs you.

"Thank you, my mom showed me how to make them, but I learned about the melted cheese on my own. She wasn't a big fan of it, but everyone else I know loves it, so I hope you will as well."

Harry grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm sure it's wonderful." He bumps your shoulder gently. "Go finish up; I'll set the table."

He pushes you into the kitchen, and you go in and place your stuff. Harry is whistling, settling down on the table two glasses and two forks when you turn back around towards him.

Harry turns around just in time for you to wrap your hands around his waist. You fit perfectly in his arms, taking in his musky scent. "Happy birthday, Harry." You whisper against his chest.

He squeezes you tighter, leaning his head on top of yours. "Thank you, love."

He pulls back, holding you by your shoulders. A big smile on his face, you reciprocate it feeling his happiness warm your heart.

"Run along now; I'm starving." He jokes.

You walk backward, creating distance; as his left-hand trails down your right hand slowly until he's touching your fingertips, do you pull away. Although you, more than anything, wanted to hold his hand. You want to feel the weight of it in yours; you want to know if his hands are soft or calloused. How cool his rings will feel against your palm. All in due time.

"I'm happy to be here."

"Me too, love. Me too."

It's safe to say you were more than luckily going to have yourself a valentine for the first time in a long time.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #zoom university #zoom online #harry styles writing #harry styles uni #my writing #harry styles fanfic

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thenightgazer · 4 years ago

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A Long Way Home

While still trapped in the Underworld, Dante and Vergil have to resolve their family issue. One that can't be solved only by swords and guns.

It's been two years since Red Grave incident, one week after Christmas, and still no news about Dante and Vergil. That leaves Nero terribly upset, but little did he know that miracle will come to him very soon.

Merry Christmas @nibbbs! Surprise surprise, I’m your secret santa from @dmcsecretsanta! Hopefully you enjoy the gift I wrote for you! Happy reading and happy holiday!

You can also read it on my AO3!

~~~

The Underworld has never been this quiet before.

That forsaken place is the real no man’s land; always boisterous with fights between demons to take over the throne of the Underworld. Be it a slaughter between lower demons or higher demons, they couldn’t care less. Their primal instinct is just craving more power and of course, human flesh. But since the portal to cross into the human world isn’t always unfolded, cannibalism is ineluctable. It’s either eat or be eaten. It’s bound to happen and demons don’t have any choices but to yield to the Underworld’s natural law. Surviving and escaping the Underworld seems like an absurd fantasy for humans, even for demons as well.

Which is why voluntarily jumping into the depth of the Underworld to save the world is considered to be a valiant and honorable act, yet also frivolously lunatic.

Well, for Dante, lunatic sounds like his middle name, if he ever had one.

He chuckles by the thought of that.

“What are you laughing at?” Dante’s problematic twin brother Vergil snarls.

“Nothing,” Dante closes his eyes. “Just having a weird thought.”

Vergil replies nothing. He shows no interest in Dante's daydream, but that’s just probably because he’s too tired to even think of a reply. The twins couldn’t count how many days have passed since they cut the Qliphoth tree down. They spared and killed any demons nearby, exploring other regions of the Underworld simply because they are bored and need some time to rebound their lost time as brothers. Now, exhaustion forces them to take some rest. They lean side by side on the scorched desert, staring at the perpetual black sky while restoring their energy.

Dante can sense a demon’s presence not too far from where he is right now, but that presence fades eventually. “You feel that too, Verge?”

“I do,” Vergil murmurs. “The words have been spoken, I presume. That they better not to disturb us if they still want to live.”

“Well, once we recover, they’re going to die anyway.”

Vergil’s short hum speaks of his concurrence.

Dante shifts his hands under his head as he glances to his brother. Vergil stiffly lies on the ground with Yamato on his chest while his hands gripping on it. He might close his eyes but Dante knows his brother can still attack his opponent while closing his eyes. As hard as a steel, this old bastard, Dante amuses at his idea. “Rest means relaxing, bro. You don’t have to be on guard all the time.”

“I’m preparing for any attack.”

“It’s not like there is a demon near us at this moment.”

“Have some self-consciousness, Dante. You could attack me at any time, given a chance.”

Dante wakes up straight away. “Why would I wanna attack you?!”

“There’s always a possibility.”

“Says the guy who always has the intention to kill me, huh,” Dante lies back again. “Seriously, Verge. Just for five minutes, stop thinking and go to sleep. Bet it’s been a while since you have a proper sleep, right?”

Neither show any agreement or disagreement, Vergil turns his head to Dante. “Why are you still awake then?”

“Huh? To keep an eye on you, of course. Who knows you’d do some weird shit outta there again.”

Vergil curves a smirk, then turns his eyes to the dark sky again. “I see. You are also scared of me attacking you while you’re asleep, aren’t you? We’re twins, after all.”

“I don’t-” Dante almost bite his mouth.. “Man, you’re as sharp and annoying as you always have been.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Yeah right.”

And there’s silence again. It’s been days, or weeks, since the last time Dante hears any demonic voices around him. To be honest, he kind of expects their appearance. He likes talking to Vergil, but the older brother has an issue in healthy communication. Hell, Vergil is a difficult person and Dante wonders if the eldest children around the world are always like this. But Dante realizes he is also no expert in social interaction, and fighting is also the only thing they both are good at. Vergil would talk a little bit much when fighting, even if it’s mostly taunting and mocking Dante, yet it’s better than having Vergil succumb to the dark side again.

“By the way,” Dante breaks the ice. “Are you ready now to tell me who’s the lucky girl a.k.a Nero’s mom?”

Vergil draws the Yamato above Dante’s throat. “One more word, and I’ll cut you into pieces.”

“C’moooon! I’m curious!”

The Yamato is now touching Dante’s skin. “Final warning, Dante.”

Dante flicks the Yamato’s blade. “Fine. Whenever you’re ready, bro. You might not want to tell me, but you owe that to Nero. He’s your son. He deserves to know.”

Vergil sheathes Yamato, scoffing at Dante’s warning. “It’s not like I’m going back to the human world.”

“Well, we HAVE to!”

“Pray tell why I should agree with you.”

“I have a shop to run and there’s a new menu at my favorite pizza parlor. You should try it, by the way. And you got a lot to explain to Nero. You don’t wanna be a deadbeat like Father, right? Though you kinda already are all this time.”

“You know it better than anyone else that I didn’t know Nero’s existence until you told me so.”

“Which is more reason why you have to come back to the human world soon. You can say you don’t need to catch up with Nero but I know you want it. You left him your frigging book; the same one you didn’t allow me to borrow. Dear ol’ Vergil got some soft spots for his son, huh?”

Vergil turns his back from Dante like a sulking child, ignoring his younger twin’s laughter. As expected from a cold man like him, he won’t ever admit that every single of Dante’s words is true. Again, a long and neglected fear consumes him. What’s fatherhood for a man who ran out of place and time like him anyway? Is there any chance for him to fix his family? Getting back in terms with Dante is one thing, but with Nero, the son he had never met before his escapement from the Underworld? Does he even have a right to call him his son after all he had done to him?

After quite long of silence and battle with himself, Vergil murmurs a question to Dante. “How old is he?”

Dante almost squealed if only he didn’t remember not to ruin Vergil’s mood or else they won’t have any friendly conversation anymore. “Nero? Twenty-something, I guess. Haven’t asked him myself.”

“How did you meet each other?”

“Long short story, some weird-ass cult that worshipped our father as a god turned out evil and wanted to use our father’s power to rule the world-”

“The Order of the Sword?”

“Right! You did your research! Nero was one of them but rebelled after they kidnapped his girlfriend and killed her brother. I came to Fortuna to retrieve the Sparda sword and apparently your kid was able to summon the Yamato and I got the picture already. He got white hair, he summoned Yamato, tried to kill me repeatedly, stab me with Rebellion and Yamato, craving for more power to save his beloved. I wondered where he got that from, by the way~”

A hint of smirk curves in Vergil’s mouth.

“Then we worked together to save Fortuna from a pope who was obsessed with our Father and destroyed the island. We succeeded and brought peace. Nero got his girlfriend back, and we established the branch of Devil May Cry in Fortuna. The end.”

“A heartwarming, and very unoriginal story.”

“You think I made up that story?”

“Didn’t say that. I am merely implying that I heard stories similar to your experience.”

“Hell knows you are the coldest person alive, but you are a terrible liar. You are a man of pride, after all. Lying doesn’t suit you.”

“I can tell thousands of lies as I please, if only that’s necessary,” Vergil takes a brief look at Dante’s mischievous face. “But I won’t, if it’s concerning my son.”

Is this really the Vergil I used to know? Dante can’t hold his grin while elbowing his brother. “Starting to feel like a real dad, huh?”

“Silence.”

“Admitting that you love your son won’t do any harm, Verge.”

“I-” Vergil stumbles upon his own words. He growls impatiently, hurrying himself to get up and sit down as he wipes his face frustratedly. “We’re not having this conversation anymore.”

“Why? Just because you can’t admit that you grew care for your son?”

“Because I’m a terrible person!”

That was the most honest words that came from Vergil, if anything, ever. When was the last time he showed his vulnerable side like this? Even as V, crumbling and dying slowly, he didn’t even spare Dante any sign of defeat and regret. Dante gets up, clapping Vergil’s shoulder. “Only if you still want to destroy the world and kill your own family, then maybe I’d call you the worst shit in the world too.”

Vergil shakes his head. “If only…”

“Huh?”

“Had I known I have a son back then…” Vergil says bitterly. “I would never leave him. I would never go pursuing power or raising that foolish tower and this ridiculous tree…” he points to the remains of Qliphoth tree with his sword. “I would have a better chance to be… a good father for him…”

Regret always comes late, isn’t it? The ‘if onlys’ never come at the front of the mind, merely whispering behind the head but never appearing into the surface before regret comes. Vergil knows that, but never really understands it until Dante tells him that Nero- the very man whose arm was ripped by him and still willing to help him in every way- is his own flesh and blood. His priority was to seal the gate of the Underworld and cut the Qliphoth tree, so that Nero and the rest of the human world are safe and sound. He will stay in the Underworld to redeem himself, for he thinks he has no place in the human world for all he has done. He planned to create a portal to the human world after he fixed things up with Dante to kick him out from the Hell with force, because he knows Dante won’t leave him alone again and will do anything to drag Vergil out from the Underworld. The plan is simple. It should have been easy to execute.

Yet ever since Vergil landed at this hellhole, his steps are getting heavier as time goes on. A haunting voice inside his head kept telling him to come back to Nero as soon as he finished his job cutting Qliphoth roots. Another sound tells him he should stay longer here with Dante to catch up with their sibling bound. The third sound, more demanding and urging, tells him to stay in the Underworld forever as a redemption.

“Y’know, bro,” Dante folds his legs as he seizes the Yamato from Vergil’s hand and puts it on the ground, which dismays Vergil. “Gotta admit that I wanted to kill you because I wanted to free you from evil, and get rid of Nero’s burden of having you as his father. Though he proved to us that we are just a bunch of nonsensical idiots who got unsolved sibling problems between us-”

“I am not an idiot!”

“You might have scored higher on the Math test than me but you’re still an idiot!” Dante barks. “Anyway that’s not my point! What I mean to say is, as much as I hate your dumb-as-rock head, you’re still my brother. And it’s never too late to fix things up.”

Vergil scoffs and takes his sword back to his embrace again. “How can you be so sure?”

“I blamed you, y’know, for that day” Dante admits, his eyes getting darker and the carefree vibe in his voice is gradually gone. “For not rescuing me and Mother.”

Vergil streaked at that confession. “What do you mean?”

“You thought Mother only saved me and left you behind while she died searching for you,” Dante woefully chuckles. “But for me, on that day, I thought you would come to rescue us.”

“I was planning to-”

“She could have hid with me in the closet until you come to save us. That’s what I thought back then when she died, and you never came back. I thought you left us, before I heard one of them say they had you killed. There I was; frightened and thinking that I was alone. My mother and brother died. No one could save me but myself. I was blaming you for running away that day. If you didn’t, we could have defeated them all and protected our home.”

“Or, we could have died. All of us.”

“Exactly. Instead of blaming you, I blamed myself for picking a fight with you. Should’ve left you and your book alone,” Dante stands up, spinning the Ivory before shooting a flying demon that approaches them. “I lived by loathing myself, until I met you again in that cursed church, remember? I was genuinely happy to see you.”

“I remember,” Vergil nods slowly, recalling a blurry picture of their younger selves. “You said you are a devil hunter and will be filthy rich someday.”

“Still waiting for that day, actually. Yet you fucker started being a dick, saying shits about power and stuff,” Dante’s harsh voice trembles slightly. “I thought we could start over as a family, but you decided to fucking stay in the Underworld. I couldn’t save you at the gate of the Underworld. I couldn’t save you at Mallet Island. I could save everyone else, but not my own family.”

Vergil raises up. His arm is reaching Dante’s shoulder, but it never touches him. His hesitation is rational, for he knows words can’t describe how Dante must have felt towards Vergil. Hatred might be the wrong word; it sounds too soft. Too lenient, too merciful.

One could tell it’s disappointment, Vergil gets his answer as Dante turns over to face him. The mischievous little brother side of Dante has gone as he aims his gun at Vergil. It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend. Let alone a family.

Dante wails horridly. “Always the quiet one, ain’t cha? Remember how our parents always told me to be quiet like you? ‘Why can’t you just behave like Vergil?’ Guess what? At least I’m not the one who fucked the world up and ripped off my son’s arm-”

“Dante-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Dante’s grip on Ivory is slightly trembling as he snaps. “I’ve been through shits too, Vergil. I missed Father and Mother. I missed you, for fuck sake! After all this time I believed I killed you in Mallet Island, then you came out of nowhere to destroy the world. I came out with the conclusion that you didn’t even change a bit, just an egomaniacal who thinks the world only revolves around him. I needed to kill you again because I don’t want my nephew to kill his own father. Don’t you fucking realize how maddening was that?!”

A bullet passes through Vergil’s head. The older hybrid stands still without any intention to return the attack, only wiping the blood from his forehead. I don’t have the right to be irritated, he reminds himself while his mouth forms a bitter grimace as Dante puts the gun on Vergil’s forehead, ready to pull the trigger anytime soon. For a second Vergil can sense Dante is going to lose his temper as he catches a glimpse of red flash in Dante’s eyes. Ever since they were kids, Vergil was always aware that Dante in his total wrath is dangerous. A ticking bomb , Vergil recalls what their father said about Dante’s anger as he watches the raging fire in Dante’s eyes ignite until it’s slowly fading.

“But I changed my mind again,” Dante continues. “Instead of blaming you and carrying on the bad blood, I choose to start over. And that’s how I can be sure,” he pokes Vergil’s head with the gun before putting it back into his coat. “That everyone deserves a second chance and it’s never too late to fix what you have done.”

The red devil yawns as he slams himself on the ground again, stretching his hands before he closes his eyes. “Sorry for raising my voice. It’s just impossible to use soft words whenever I’m talking to a stubborn jackass like you.”

He opens one of his eyes to see what Vergil would react. His older brother sighs heavily, sitting beside Dante’s lying body and puts his katana on the ground. For a man with a soul of a true warrior like Vergil, putting weapons down on the ground is a sign of defeat. Which is the reason why he was slightly aggravated when Dante seized the Yamato and put it on the ground as if he told Vergil to surrender. It should be a humiliating act, but for once Vergil throws his pride away.

Because you are right, Dante.

“Dante,” he calls his brother. This time there’s no hostility in his voice, only sincerity and repentance. “I am ever so sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Dante smirks playfully. “Why do you think I’m here if I still hold a grudge against you?”

“I mean it,” Vergil emphasizes. “Truthfully. For everything I have done… and my sincere gratitude for taking good care of my son while I wasn’t there for him.”

“Honestly, Verge. Forget it. I only do what I have to do.”

Watching his little brother finally howls in laughter, a surge of warmth fills Vergil’s veins as he joins the laughter. It’s comforting, since they can’t remember the last time they laugh together without any fight and bad blood. I barely remember how it feels like to have a family, Vergil chuckles while Dante kicks Vergil’s knee mischievously. Was it always this… warm?

“Dante.”

“Yup?”

“I think we should go back to the human world now.”

Dante whistles in joy. “Ready to meet your grandkids?”

“Do tell me the truth,” Vergil growls, impetuously tugs Dante’s collar. “Are you serious about grandchildren or you just make it up?”

“For fuck sake, Verge! Didn’t you know that already when you ripped your son’s arm?”

“I didn’t pay much attention... I can only recall a voice of woman called Nero for dinner- not the voice of that mouthful friend of Nero-”

“Yeah that was Kyrie. Your soon-to-be daughter in law. Anyway they adopted kids called Carlo, Kyle, and Julio,” Dante pats Vergil’s shoulder with pride and teasing manner. “Congratulations, you’re officially a grandpa! What a fine day for revelation!”

As if my life could get any worse, Vergil grinds his teeth in frustration as he releases Dante from his grip. “How unfortunate.”

“C’mon, swing that flimsy sword of yours and make a portal to the human world. We got plenty of things to do! I gotta pay those bills, refurbish my shop, return Kalina Ann to Lady, and buy a birthday present for Patty.”

“Rather a cumbersome list you got there, Dante.”

“What can I say? I’m a busy man! Now get your ass up, old man! Nero’s waiting!”

---

It’s already two fucking years.

Nero was never a believer. There’s no such thing as a miracle, he told himself. Protecting Kyrie and the kids is an endless responsibility that bestowed upon him. There’s nothing he won’t do for their happiness and safety, even if it means to cost his own well-being. He relies on nobody but himself. He doesn’t pray. He never tries to exceed any expectation, because hope is a dangerous and fragile thing. Hope bothers him, and he hates to be bothered.

Yet, lately, he almost surrendered by the temptation to hold some hope.

What hope? Nero rejects his own thought. For those douchebags to return safely? Gimme a break.

Sitting in his garage and polishing the Red Queen, Nero takes a brief look at the snowy ground outside of the house where the children are building a snowman. He grins at Kyle who waves at him; the youngest from the three children he adopted, who’s now taller and braver than he used to be when he found the little boy searching for some scraps at Fortuna’s slum. Nero chuckles when a glimpse of a picture of Vergil meeting Kyrie and the boys pops out from his head. Would they be pleased to meet him? Would Vergil be pleased to meet them? Would he himself be pleased to meet Vergil again? There’s no fucking way for them to coming back, Nero slaps himself. They either die or shit themselves in the Underworld. Probably fucking fighting again like toddlers.

Still, the thought of his father and uncle somehow return and meeting his little family is overwhelming. Nero can’t even hide his smile anymore. He throws away the rug he uses to wipe the blade and hangs the Red Queen on the wall.

Come to think of it, that fucker ripped off my arm in this garage too.

He lays a hard punch on the wall.

“Keep punchin’ the wall, and ya would destroy the house.”

Nero glances at his friend and partner in crime, Nico, who rests her back on the van and lights her cigarette. He still finds it strange to witness Nico in her winter outfit, a contrast to her usual tanktop and shorts she used to wear before winter comes. "How many times have I told you to smoke outside the house?”

“Ya blind or what? It’s cold outside!”

“Darn it, Nico! Then don’t smoke!”

“Too late~” Nico barks a laugh while blowing a smoke. “Anyway, why did you punch the wall like a madman?”

Nero shrugs nonchalantly. “Nothing. Just feeling like punching something.”

“Cut the bullshit. Ya missed yer old man, ain’t cha?”

“Buzz off, Nico.”

“Aaaaw, don’t be so meanie~”

“Seriously, Nico. Go bugger off someone else. I’m not in the mood for having a chit-chat.”

“Everyone’s worried, ya know,” Nico exhales exaggeratedly, pointing at the children outside. “Those lil’ brats asked me if somethin’ pissed ya off because ya look like ya wanted to punch someone in the face since the Christmas party last week.”

“I indeed want to punch a certain person,” Nero lets out a cackle. “But he’s not available at the moment.”

“Y’know, I’m not an expert of daddy and son shits, and yer dad is obviously not an ideal father, but it’s totally okay for ya to miss him. The jackass did save the world, at least.”

“Thanks, Nico. That’s so motivational. I’m deeply touched- ouch !” Nero swears when a sturdy plug lands on his head. “What the fuck Nico?!”

“Talk to Kyrie,” Nico lowers her voice. Her brash mouth always sounds kinder and empathetic when she talks about Kyrie. “Ya locked yerself in this garage the whole day! You’re making her worried, ya know?”

“I think you should double your eyeglasses. I didn’t lock myself. See that door? It’s unhinged, because I need to make sure the kids are alright.”

“Yeaaah whatever. Go talk to her, pretty boy. I’ll watch over the brats.”

“Fine…” Nero scratches his nape as he walks away from the garage. “Don’t let the kids go anywhere near my weapons!”

“Gotcha~!”

Nero never meant to worry anyone, of course. He lives a happy life; he married the love of his life, adopted a bunch of orphans whom he loved and took care of equally, and ran a business with his best friend whom he considered a big sister. The world is currently safe from danger. So what's to worry about?

His confusion disappears when he sees Kyrie’s figure covered in a thick blanket at the terrace. She smiles happily as the snow continues to fall and catches a drop on her palm. Nero feels like he could melt anytime he sees Kyrie’s soothing smile. He takes his time to watch her catching snow as he leans against the door, ignoring the cold breeze that sneaks inside his body. It doesn’t take a long time for Kyrie to be aware of Nero’s presence as she asks him to join her at the terrace.

“You should put your coat on, Nero. It’s cold here.” Kyrie speaks her concern while she wraps him with her blanket.

“Chill out. I’m fine,” Nero gives her a light peck on the forehead. His right hand envelopes Kyrie’s waist to give her a sense of comfort. “The kids are building snowmans back there. Been hours and who knows when they will stop.”

Kyrie giggles. “The more they grow up the more energetic they become! At least we don’t need to worry about how to get them to sleep on time. I believe they’ll get exhausted after play and filling their stomachs with delicious dinner would quicken their way to sleep!”

“You’re right.”

Kyrie looks up at her lover’s tensed face. She brushes the tip of Nero’s nose slightly to make him smile. That little maneuver always succeeded to cheer him up. Kyrie rests her head on Nero’s chest. “Are you not happy with the Christmas party last week? I know you hated surprises but-”

“No- I liked it! Really! You know we rarely celebrate things lately and last week was one of the best days in my life! How could I hate that?” Nero tightens his grip on Kyrie’s waist, gazing at Kyrie’s eyes deeply. “I’m happy, Kyrie. I’m happy here with our little family.”

“Then it must have something to do with your father and uncle, is it?”

“That obvious, huh?” Nero smirks bitterly. “I just… I don’t know. You know how Dante is. To think that he’s actually my uncle is… weird. Then I found out the man who screwed up Red Grave was his brother. My father. Vergil, he left me when I was a child… as V, he manipulated me to do his agenda. He reemerged and left me again. And Dante didn't even bother to tell me the fact before Vergil was back. That made me feel… kinda betrayed. It still doesn’t make any sense to me. I got a pair of dysfunctional family members and I don’t know what I should do if they come back. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

The only parental figure Nero ever had was just Kyrie and Credo’s parents, and they didn’t even live that long to give little Nero more love and parental advice. Kyrie truly understands Nero’s struggle to accept his heritage and keep holding on his humanity. “Nero… do you forgive your father?”

“What?”

“I don’t mean to bring it up again, but after all the ill he caused to you, do you forgive him?”

The memory of him and Vergil on the top of the Qliphoth tree rises again. He succeeded in bringing some sense back to his father and the old man entrusted him his precious book- the one which Nero kept safely on the shelf- before jumping to Hell and finishing what he started. Vergil didn’t say much, but his promise… his damn promise!

“I won’t lose next time. Hold onto that until then.”

“I forgive him,” Nero admits. “I think… I just miss him. And Dante. I really want us to be a proper family. That's all.”

“Just as I thought,” Kyrie cups Nero’s jaw with her hands. “I’m glad that you’re honest with yourself. There’s nothing wrong with missing them. They might be flawed, but they are your family."

Nero carefully caresses his beloved hands as if he's afraid of hurting her. "I'm sorry I keep putting you to my demon lineage problem…"

"Hey, we talked about this. Demon or human, it's you I want to be with…" she kisses him on the lips. "I love you, Nero."

"I love you too." He returns the kiss deeper.

Nero wraps her around his arms, seeking comfort and warmth from her presence. Kyrie's words succeed in getting his head together. He can feel a degree of burden has left his shoulders as he finds himself finally letting go his worries. Kyrie is right. There's nothing wrong with missing those douchebags. They're my family-

"NERO!"

Nico appears out of nowhere at the terrace, panting and panicking like she ran for her life. Every single nerve inside Nero's body tells him that something wrong is happening, but the sassy smirk on Nico's face while she tries to breathe normally tells another thing. "You're not gonna believe me if I told you this-"

"Are the kids safe?" Kyrie asks anxiously.

"Yeah they're fine. They have company."

What the fuck? "Company? What are you talking about?!"

Nico rolls her eyes as she grabs both of Nero and Kyrie's hands. "Just follow me quickly!"

Nico seems excited… if it wasn't a danger, then what?

The children are giggling and shouting happily at something Nero can't see yet. But as soon as Nico delivers them in the backyard, he spots two familiar figures among the kids. The red-coated man joins them to decorate the snowman as he helps them crafting the pile of snow with stones and branches. He summons a cowboy hat and a shiny red scarf from thin air- which excites the kids- before he puts the hat on the snowman's head and wraps its neck with the scarf as the last touch. The children are applauding and hugging him, saying their gratitude and bombing him with questions on how he could summon stuff only from thin air. The cocky red man barks in laughter and tells them that he learns some magic tricks.

In a contrast to the red man, the blue-coated man stands a bit far from the crowd, facepalming and reluctant to do anything despite the children's curiosity as they glance at him and whisper their surprise on how similar his face is with the red man. Carlo states that the blue man is scary, and quickly hides behind the red man when the blue man hears his mutter and glares at the poor kid.

"C'mon, Verge, stop glaring at the kids! You're scaring them!" The red man chuckles.

Dante?

Vergil?

How-? Since when…?

"You…" Nero breathes heavily, barely trusts his vision. "You guys are alive…"

Dante grins and waves a salute at Nero. "Heya, kid! Miss me? I know we're late, but Merry Christmas!"

Kyrie holds her giggle when she catches Nero's dumbstruck face. She grips his hand and whispers him a word of advice. "Time to let your doubts go, Nero. They are here, at last."

Nero gives a nod, but his mouth isn't capable of forming any words. He reluctantly approaches Vergil, who seems nonchalant about his surroundings, if only Nero failed to catch his father's warm gaze as he stands before Vergil. A minute has passed and none of them say anything. Words cannot describe how they feel towards each other.

But Nero decides to solve the problem in Sparda's family old-fashioned style: punching his father hard right in the face.

There echoes Dante and Nico's laughter as Vergil's body lands violently on the ground, covered with snow.

The older son of Sparda can taste a metallic scent liquid dripping from his lips.

"That hurts," he murmurs and proceeds to get up as he wipes the blood from his mouth. "Two years and still have no manners, I see."

"Fuck you, old man!" Nero spats angrily.

Dante, still laughing at the picture of his brother getting sucker-punched by Nero, sloppily walks to approach them. He pats Nero's shoulder in pride. "You're doing the right thing, Nero. You gave him the right Christmas present-"

The legendary devil hunter gets a very lethal slap from his nephew before he finishes his sentence.

"And that's a present for you, deadweight!" The young devil hunter shouts.

The view of Dante and Vergil getting slammed by Nero only increases Nico's laughter.

"Why did Nero punch Mr. Dante and Mr. Vergil?" Carlo asks Kyrie. "Nero always punches bad people. Are they bad people?"

"Well… no, they are good people! Mr. Vergil is Nero's father and Mr. Dante is Nero's uncle," Kyrie chuckles to hide her worry and struggles to find the correct way to explain the situation. "They haven't met for a very long time. Nero misses them so much that he… doesn't know what to do anymore. But punching people doesn't solve problems, so don't ever do that, okay?"

The kids nod obediently despite not completely understanding the circumstances.

"Can we stop Nero from punching them, Kyrie?" asks Julio, the oldest one from the three. "Family doesn't hurt each other, right?"

"Nah, don't worry. They will stop soon," Nico says as he points at the three hybrids. "Let 'em get the reunion they deserve."

They become calm and smiling at the sight of Nero bringing his father and uncle in a tight embrace together as the young man lets out a cry.

"You both are full of shits and stinky… like a scavenger…" Nero sobs, his teeth grinding hard. "At least take a shower before you show up, dumbass…!"

Dante sneers as he taps Nero’s back. “Yeah, I miss you too.”

The red devil glares at his twin. Say something to your son!

Vergil, unmoved and stiff, doesn’t know how to react from this awkward embrace. He feels uncomfortable, yet finds himself melting between this fuzzy feeling. “Nero…”

“Shut up,” Nero interrupts while breaking his embrace and burying his teary eyes on his palm. “Just fucking shut up.”

“Forgive me,” the blue devil insists to continue. “For leaving you again.”

“Yeah yeah, just shut up...”

Nero jolts by the unexpected weight on his head; Vergil’s hand ruffles his hair as he curves a very subtle smile.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Oh how Nero wanted to punch him again, if only he could bring himself to.

“Uhm…” Kyrie comes to Nero’s rescue as she smiles politely to the twins. “I’m sorry to interrupt this reunion. It’s dinner time and… we would be very happy if the two of you join us for supper.”

“We’d be glad!” Dante accepts cheerfully. “Nero once told me you cook the best meal in Fortuna!”

“Shut up, Dante!” Nero grunts. He remembers he hasn’t told the twins that Kyrie and him are married. He pulls Kyrie closer and holds her hand firmly. “Anyway, Father. This is my wife, Kyrie. Kyrie, this is Vergil. My father.”

Kyrie smiles warmly at Vergil. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Vergil.”

Vergil appreciates Kyrie’s bravery and gives his sincerest nod of approval. There is not a single hint of fright from Kyrie as he recalls how people tend to tremble and stutter in fear whenever they talk to him. He can see why Nero loves her and is very protective towards her. “Thank you for taking good care for my son all this time.”

“Sorry for missing your wedding party, babe. We’ve been busy cleaning up Hell,” Dante grins at Kyrie. “Congratulations. My nephew is lucky to have you as his wife.”

“Can you shut up already?” spats Nero, feeling terribly embarrassed.

“I’m hungry~!” Nico shouts mischievously. “Let’s continue inside! It’s damn freezin’ out here!”

Kyrie gives the twins a final nod as she invites them to come inside the house. She runs to the kitchen with Nico while Nero gathers the kids to enter the house. Dante chuckles like a cocky cool uncle when Julio asks him to do another magic trick, and the little chuckle turns into a bigger laughter when he sees Vergil’s hand tucked in Kyle’s hand as the youngest child calls him Grandpa Vergil.

“Grandpa’s hand is cold!” Kyle says, unaware of Vergil’s death glare. “Once you eat Kyrie’s food, you’ll be warm in no time!”

“Let go of my hand, little rascal.” Vergil scoffs, uncomfortable by the strange kindness from the little child.

Kyle laughs and keeps guiding him to the kitchen. The food is prepared and everyone is about to get their seats. Carlo drags a chair beside Dante’s seat and shyly asks Vergil to sit there, which Vergil accepts.

“Starting to feel like coming back home?” Dante asks his brother.

“This is not bad.”

“I’ve contacted Lady and Trish. They will be here soon,” Nico says as she puts the cigarette on the ashtray. “Lady said something about returning her Kalina Ann. Trish gave her regards, and said that ya need to pay the rent as soon as possible.”

“Damn… those devilish ladies…” Dante buries his face on the table.

“Your office looks like shit without you.” Nero sneers at Dante.

Further family resolvement can wait. Now let them enjoy their first family dinner for the first time. Christmas might have passed a week ago, but Nero thinks his most valuable present had just arrived today. He still wants to beat the shit out of his father and uncle for some unknown reasons, but it can wait for later. His eyes meet Vergil’s, and his father forms a warm smile to him. He never says much, Nero knows that, but he can give him time to adjust in the human world.

Amidst the chants and chatter in the house, unbeknownst to each other, the three descendants of Sparda secretly hope that this rare moment can last forever.

#dmcsecretsanta #dmc #devil may cry #dante #vergil #nero #kyrie #nico #nero x kyrie #night writes #nibbbs

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kenzieam · 5 years ago

Text

The Tutor - Chapter Five

Pairing: AU Bucky X Levi

Rating: M (my usual, lovelies)

Warnings: language, drama, angst, mentions of abuse

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@iammarylastar @captstefanbrandt @jewels2876 @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @everythingisoverrated @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @oliviastan17 @igothroughphasesalot @sashli @lorilane33 @pinknerdpanda

I KNOW I’M MISSING TAGS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT IN

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Levi the jock needs help in high school and her twin brother, Steve, volunteers his newest friend, Bucky. Seemingly just to piss her off, Bucky accepts but soon realizes there’s more to the Levi than she lets the average spectator see.

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I’m STILL an attention whore with cabin fever, I’d love to hear what you all think about my newest story, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE leave a review, my Lovelies!

************************************************************************ Okay…. this has gone off in a new direction…. let’s go with it and….. finally….

SMUT; LOVELY, LOVELY SMUT!!!!

************************************************************************

“Just open it, Bucky.” Levi instructed, playful exasperation in her voice.

“I know what’s in here.” He countered, fixing Levi with a mulish look.

“Just open it.” She giggled. “Maybe it’s a pony.” Her eyes rounded in exaggeration and she tilted her head mockingly.

Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes, his fingers tightening on the small box in his hands. It was Boxing Day; Steve was over at Peggy’s, Levi’s mom was at her Christmas gift, a fancy spa getaway weekend with her even fancier friends, and Bucky was over, seated in the middle of a nest of blankets and pillows, in Levi’s family room. On the television, Bruce Willis was making ‘fists with his toes’ on the carpet at the Nakatomi Plaza and Levi was still beaming at winning the argument she and Bucky had been engaged in since he’d walked through the door earlier, about whether ‘Die Hard’ was indeed a Christmas movie and which had lasted through their entire meal of Chinese takeout.

In the crush of exams and chaos of the holidays, they hadn’t had much chance to be alone since the mall and Levi’s words to him still smouldered low in his chest. He saw the sparkle in her eyes, the smile on her face as she confirmed what his dumbfounded ears had claimed to hear every night as he fell asleep, relived her kiss in every dream and his body ached to hold her close again, today being the first real chance either of them had had to slow down in a while.

Despite his mom’s look, Bucky had shouldered a small duffel bag on his way out earlier today, hinting at the possibility of him not making it home that night, but she hadn’t said a word. It was hard to argue against it when you saw the results of Bucky’s new relationship, the ease with which he smiled now, the weight of carrying his family lighter on his shoulders now with Levi’s support and love.

“Why are you so smiley today?” Bucky’s mom asked curiously, working on breakfast for the girls, making sure the blueberries lined up properly on the surface of Sarah’s oatmeal.

Bucky paused, debating only a beat before deciding on the truth. “It’s Lev, Ma. She loves me.”

His mom froze, the strawberries for Maddy’s oatmeal dripping juice off the spoon. She seemed at a loss for words for a minute before collecting herself. “She said that?” At Bucky’s nod, she continued. “And you love her?”

Bucky nodded, meeting his mother’s eyes squarely. “I do.”

“Well,” she looked down, studying the oatmeal for a moment before raising her head again. A genuine smile grew on her lips and there might even have been the glitter of sudden tears in her eyes. “You have been floating around on a cloud for the last few days, now I know why. It’s nice to see, Bear; you had to take on a lot when your dad died, and I’ll never be able to make that up to you.”

Bucky cleared his throat, shifting his weight as he rubbed a hand over his mouth. It always hit him low in the chest and made unwanted tears threaten to fall when his mom mentioned his shouldering the burden of keeping the family running while she’d grieved.

“That’s great news, baby.” His mom added. “I’m happy for you, just remember what your father always said.”

Bucky nodded. “I will.” One of his father’s favorite lessons, and one he’d led by example, was to always treat the woman you loved like a queen, for only then could you consider yourself a king.

There had been a twinkle in his mother’s eyes every time she’d looked at him since.

“A pony,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “C’mon, Lev.”

“Just open it!” She squeaked, pounding her fists lightly on his knees as they sat cross-legged in front of each other, not hard enough to hurt but the action making his body itch for her contact again.

Sighing theatrically, Bucky tore the paper off, and, despite his recalcitrance, he couldn’t stop the excited grin that pulled at his lips when he cracked the box open and saw the not-a-surprise gift within. “Lev, I…”

“You deserve it, Bucky. You help so many people; your mom, your sisters, me. I know you say it’s too much, but I wanted to give you this; I know you’d never spoil yourself, so I did.”

Bucky sighed, her words warming his chest, making the pill easier to swallow. “Thank you, baby.” He leaned forwards, capturing the back of Levi’s head with his hand and pulling her close for a kiss. “It’s really sweet of you.” He strapped the watch to his wrist and gazed down at it, grinning widely. It did look amazing. “Here,” he picked up the large box he’d brought with him, passing it to her. “Your turn.” A frisson of excitement shivered up his spine. While he’d never be able to match the monetary level of her gift, he hoped the thought behind it would make up for it.

“What is it?”

“A pony. Just open it.” He teased, laughing when Levi stuck her tongue out and commenced tearing the paper.

Pushing the torn wrapping aside, Levi lifted the lid and stared down at the contents. The lid dropped from suddenly boneless fingers and she gasped, one hand clapping over her mouth while the other reached to brush wonderingly over the gift. Her stunned gaze lifted to Bucky’s, tears filling her eyes and overflowing down her cheeks as her face crumpled.

“Bucky,” she whimpered. “Oh my god… thank you.”

Although he’d hoped for a happy reaction, Levi’s tears were still surprising. “Lev? Are you okay? I remember you mentioned around Halloween how you wanted to find one, I thought you’d be happy-”

“I am. God, Bucky, I am.” Her voice broke as she reached in, pulling out a large leather messenger bag. It was a dark coffee color, faded to a thick caramel at heavy wear points. The leather creaked and flexed under her hands, releasing the wonderful smells of conditioner and saddle soap and Levi pulled it to her face, inhaling deeply even as she started crying harder.

Bucky scooted closer, concerned now and gripped her knee. “Lev?”

Lev set the bag aside and lunged at Bucky, straddling his thighs and wrapping her arms around him, squeezing the breath from his body. Sobs made her shake against his chest and her tears made wet trails on his neck, soaking into his shirt.

“Lev?” He rubbed her back, pulse beginning to speed up in concern, reaching up to cradle her face when she finally pulled far enough away to meet his eyes.

Lev took a deep breath, managing a wet smile as Bucky thumbed away her tears, forehead furrowed, and lips pursed in worry. He tilted his head to regard her. “You said you wanted one of these… I didn’t want to make you cry-”

“No, it’s okay.” Levi sniffled, leaning forwards to kiss him, her tears making it taste salty. She leaned back again and cleared her throat. “I did want one, ever since I was a kid, but I could never find one that was just right.” She took a deep breath, and the smile she gave Bucky was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her hand reached over to caress the bag and draw it closer to herself. “My dad had a bag like this, exactly like this. I loved it when he’d come home at night and let me carry it in the house. Sometimes he’d lift the top flap and there’d be a treat or small gift for Steve and me inside. This smell, good leather, is what I remember my dad smelling like. After he died, Mom went through his stuff and gave everything away, I’ve been trying to find one like it since then. Where did you find it?”

Bucky smiled, teary himself now at Levi’s story. “At a… a junk shop a few years ago. I was going to use it for myself but never did. When you mentioned wanting one, I dug it again and started restoring it. It was dried out and pretty rough, I used a lot of saddle soap and leather conditioner to get it back.”

“A lot of time too.” Levi stated quietly.

“Yeah, you’re worth every hour, every minute I spent on it.”

“Thank you.” She whispered. “This is the best thing I’ve ever been given.” She reached up, trailed along Bucky’s jawline with her fingers, smiling when he leaned into her touch and closed his eyes.

“I knew I’d never be able to get you something expensive-” He began, his voice husky.

Levi clasped his face and his eyes fluttered open. “This is better,” she whispered. “This means you listen to me and you’re willing to spend time on me. You and Steve are the only two people who give a shit about me, you know.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

“My sisters love you, your mom…” he trailed off, because Lev’s mom had married a monster and turned a blind eye to years of abuse for her own selfishness.

Lev smiled wetly, understanding why Bucky stopped. “It’s okay, family is who you choose, nothing else. I choose you.” She cleared her throat, audibly and obviously changing the subject. “I have something else to give you.” She murmured, tracing the cleft in his chin, a special touch that was only theirs.

“Oh?”

Biting her lip, Levi rolled her hips against him, grinning when Bucky choked on a gasp, eyes going wide.

“You haven’t been keeping up with your studies, young man.” She teased, meeting his dumbfounded gaze demurely, tracing the hammer of his pulse in his throat. “I’m the tutor now, remember?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bucky murmured, hissing as Levi ground down again. His hands dropped down to her hips, gripping tightly.

Levi pulled away, pushing off Bucky’s lap and giggling at the pout that instantly came over his expression. Rising onto her knees, Levi pushed deliberately at Bucky’s chest and he let himself be tipped onto his back. She rose above him, his hands instinctively moved to grip her waist, lead her to straddle his hips again and he bit his bottom lip as he gazed up into her face. Levi seemed to consider him a moment before a languidness softened her eyes and she rested her hands on his chest, curling her fingers in his t-shirt for a second before rucking them under the hem, her palms brushing his abs and sending electric shock through his torso.

Bucky inhaled sharply, hips bucking involuntarily beneath her and his lips parted as his breath grew heavy. Levi could feel his heart pounding beneath her palms as she smiled wickedly, pushing the front of his shirt up under his chin to expose his heaving chest.

“I haven’t had a chance to teach you anything yet.” She teased, her fingertip tracing around one of his nipples. Bucky bit back a moan, his jeans growing unbearably tight. He rocked his hips up unconsciously, as much as he could, brushing the evidence of his arousal against Levi’s core and she gasped, eyelids fluttering shut. She rolled back, grinding down and Bucky moaned brokenly; his heart hammered under her hands, blood singing in his veins and he wanted nothing more in that instance than to feel Levi sheathed around him, to drive up into her heat and feel himself come apart inside her.

“Baby, I-” words left him as Levi’s nails scratched lightly across his chest and abs, provoking goosebumps and a full-body shiver.

“Do you want me, Bucky?”

He didn’t miss the uncertainty in her voice, the brief waver of low self-esteem that she usually hid so well. “God, baby. I do,” he pulled her down to grind on his cock again, reaching up with one hand to cup the back of her head and draw her down for a kiss. “You’re so fucking hot.” He whispered.

“What do you want?” Levi murmured.

“I want to taste you.” He breathed. Holding her gaze, he trailed a fingertip along her waistband, popping the button of her jeans. “I want to see if you taste as good as I’ve dreamed.”

“Go ahead and find out.” She whispered huskily.

Gripping her hips, Bucky rolled, trapping Levi beneath him. His experience with girls was laughably weak but, with Lev, that didn’t matter. His body was taking over, Levi’s acceptance and acquiescence giving him the confidence to follow it.

She trusted him.

Pushing her shirt up, Bucky kissed her belly then drew her top the rest of the way off. His fingers fumbled with her bra straps, until Levi giggled and sat up, reaching back to do it herself, gazing boldly into his eyes as she flicked it away.

Bucky swallowed hard, his fantasies regarding this never matching up to the real thing. Wonderingly, tenderly, he caressed her breasts, bending forwards to follow Levi as she lay back beneath him. Her fingers coiled in his hair, tugging gently as he kissed first one breast than its twin, then he drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking it into a peak. His hand cupped the other, marvelling at the softness of her skin and, emboldened by her moans, he switched sides; listening for the rewarding sounds she made in response, giving him wordless instruction of what to do. His fingers traveled down her body as his mouth was occupied and he pulled at her jeans, drawing them down her shapely hips. Reluctantly, he left the bounty of her breasts and trailed downwards, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake until he reached the ribbon edge of her underwear.

Exhaling heavy, panting breaths through parted lips, a tsunami of emotions and sensations crashed through his body. This was real and it was going to happen, the fantasy of Levi made his finally and no doubt it would far and away exceed any of his dreams.

“Lev,” he whispered in reverence, her skin goose bumping under his breath. Looking up at her, he touched the ribbon edge, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation and nerves. Levi’s eyes softened, giving him permission and he exhaled raggedly before focussing on the apex of her thighs, revealed as he pulled her underwear down.

“Brazilian?” he murmured, closing his eyes as he pressed a light, tentative kiss to her lower stomach; the fleeting and completely unexpected thought that that would be where their children would one day grow flitting through his mind and back out again before he could be shocked enough about it to pull back and analyze it too closely.

“I like how it feels.” Levi murmured back, lifting her hips slightly as she curled her fingers into his hair, gently guiding him lower.

Bucky didn’t care how Levi preferred to groom herself, it was entirely her choice and a little body hair would not put him off but he couldn’t deny the way her bare state allowed him to see her arousal glistening on her skin, letting him know that he was on the right track and he gave her another kiss, lower this time before daring an experimental lick.

Her taste exploded on his tongue, a sweet tang, and he couldn’t stop a groan. Fuck, was this what it was like, how did people ever get anything done if this heaven was available? Ecstasy on his taste buds, he hoped distantly that Lev liked this as much as him, because this was definitely something he wanted to do on the regular.

Her moan registered in his ears only belatedly and an instinct newly awakened took over his grasping hands. Pushing her thighs further apart he dove in, licking and laving and kissing, sucking along her folds with hungry little groans and growls of pleasure. To hear Levi above him, to feel her fingers coil tightly in his hair and sense her writhing beneath him was an ultimate high and he wondered dimly if he would even survive driving his cock inside her.

Levi convulsed beneath his mouth, her orgasm crashing over her as her hand yanked roughly at his hair, trying to pull him away from her hypersensitive skin and she gasped, jerking once more when Bucky gave her one last worshiping lav with his tongue, feeling like he’d just ran a race, heart hammering in his chest. His cock was painfully pressed to his zipper, throbbing with desperation and he ground against the blankets beneath him for relief as he met Levi’s eyes, almost laughing out loud at the look on her face.

“Shit Bucky…. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” She panted, dazed.

“Never.” He grinned, riding an amazing high at the thought of pleasing her so thoroughly, nipping at her inner thigh with a snicker, loving the little squeal he earned.

“Oh my god,” she wheezed, still breathless and Bucky crawled up her body, wanting her lips again, lust crashing through him like a tsunami when Levi grabbed him, crushing their mouths together, heedless of her essence still glistening on his face and kissed him with head-spinning desire.

“Ready?” She whispered, pulling her mouth away, panting for breath. Her fingers tickled along his waistband.

Bucky pressed his forehead to hers, chest heaving, balancing on his forearms on either side of Levi’s head.

This was it.

“Yes.” He whispered; eyes locked with hers. He felt her pop his button, pull the zipper down then slide her hand inside. He jolted, hissing through clenched teeth when she cupped him over his boxer briefs, rubbing gently and his eyes squeezed shut, muscles locked as pleasure like he’d never felt before crashed over him. The other two times he’d been with girls, it had been squirming, awkward affairs in the dark, trying to keep from getting his truck’s gear shift rammed in an impolite location and over almost before it had even begun.

“Fuck,” he gasped, not even in control of his mouth right now. “Jesus baby, I need-… Aw fuck.” His hips rolled in Levi’s hand and she hummed low in her throat, a soothing sound for his beast. “I want…. Inside you-”

“I want you too,” Levi breathed. “But I want to taste you first-”

“Fuck baby,” Bucky ground out. “I couldn’t take that right now; I want to feel you… m’sorry.” The only blowjob he’d ever been on the receiving end of was from a girl who’d either been as completely clueless as him as what to do or they were nothing like guys made them out to be. Either way, Levi’s touch would be too much to handle and he wanted his first time with her to be inside her.

“Don’t apologize for enthusiasm,” Levi giggled. “But Bucky-”

Her tone drew his attention and he bit back a groan. Levi’s hand mercifully paused in its ministrations so he could focus on her words.

Faint pink colored her cheeks. “I should have brought this up sooner,” she murmured regretfully. Her eyes met his. “What about condoms?”

Bucky groaned. He’d packed a small box, teasing himself the whole time for being an overeager dog, but they were safe in his duffel and nowhere near his clenched fists right now.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.” Levi continued. “And I know you are.” She hesitated, and when she continued there was a defensive air to her words, as if she’d been accused in the past of lying. “I react to latex, not all the time but I sometimes get really itchy.” She searched Bucky’s eyes for scorn or disbelief and relaxed slightly when she found none. “If you’re comfortable not using any, I am too.”

Bucky took a moment to process her words. Be bare inside her, when he could hardly hold back from exploding from her mere touch? Fumbling with protection and snapping his tender skin once before had been a definite boner-kill and Bucky didn’t want to relive anything like that again. He’d definitely embarrass himself, but Levi wouldn’t judge him. The thought of making love to Levi, and that’s absolutely what this was, although fumbling and shambolic there was no impersonal fucking here, without any barriers made his blood sing.

“Yes,” he whispered, lowering his head to press a series of gentle kisses along her forehead and down her nose before taking her mouth again. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Levi breathed, lifting her gaze to meet his questioning eyes.

“Don’t judge me,” Bucky grinned, pushing and squirming to fully kick off his jeans before settling back down between Levi’s thighs. “What I’m about to do is no indication of what I’m really capable of.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.” Levi giggled and Bucky relaxed with her words. Although almost wholly inexperienced, even he knew that acceptance and humor in such a compromising and vulnerable position was golden.

Bucky held his breath, fists clenched as Levi gently helped guide him to her. He hissed as she rubbed his swollen head through her folds, collecting her slick then almost whimpered as he pushed past her fingers, the tip suddenly encased in her heat.

“Good boy,” Levi whispered, voice strained. “You’re fucking huge, Bucky. Did you know that?”

“I am?” Bucky panted. He knew he wasn’t little, but huge?

“Biggest I’ve ever had.” Levi murmured, then blushed. “Not that I’ve had that many-”

He cut her off with a kiss. She had more experience than him sure, but Bucky knew that Levi had never sold herself cheap either. His hips surged forwards, completely on instinct, driving into her and Levi arched beneath him, moaning as Bucky gasped a groan, pleasure threatening to completely overwhelm him.

Fuck, this was absolute heaven. He was never leaving. If he’d known the ecstasy waiting for him between a woman’s legs, he would have definitely tried it more often, but at the same time, this was so blissful because it was Levi beneath him and, to experience this with her, he would have waited forever. She tilted her hips and he slid fully inside, bottoming out and he sucked in air like a dying man given salvation, dropping his head to the crook of her neck as his frantic body took over, thrusting into her again and again, a hard rhythm that was going to finish him off all too soon, but Jesus God did she feel good.

Lev murmured to him, one hand curled into the soft stands at the nape of his neck, the other scratching across his back. He tried to obey her gentle commands, tried to slow down but it was near impossible, his body rushing headlong into heavenly release. One hand reached back, gripping Levi’s thigh and drawing it up to his hip and then he hooked his arm around it, spreading her wider for him.

“Touch me, Bucky.” She whispered tenderly. “Help me catch up, baby.”

He groaned an answer, past words and not fully comprehending what she meant.

“Like this.” She took his free hand, the one not hooked around her leg and pressed down into the blankets, supporting his weight, and guided it between them. He felt her wetness, her slippery folds, felt where his cock drove into her, where they were so viscerally connected and understood. His thumb found her clit and began to circle it.

With something else to focus on now, he was able to slow down enough to control himself and he raised his head to gaze into Levi’s eyes, his hair sweat-dampened and hanging in messy waves. She stared back up, her violet eyes boring into his, a window open to her soul. Pleasure darkened her iris’ to amethyst and her lips parted as she moaned his name.

“Right there, oh god…. Right there, Bucky.” Her hands cradled his face as her climax crashed over her, and Bucky watched her greedily, hissing a breath as he felt her walls tighten around him, steadily spasming and then it was too much and he surrendered, giving into his release with a strangled yell, squeezing his eyes shut and slamming one last time inside before letting go, the throbbing of his cock almost painful as he spilled into her.

Levi arched beneath him, crying out with each jet Bucky pulsed inside her, her pleasure infinity looping into Bucky’s, his orgasm triggering another longer, stronger one of hers, which in turn milked him almost to the point of pain.

Finally, it crested and Bucky’s screaming muscles, locked down in the throes of his release, went slack and he couldn’t stop from collapsing on Levi, panting open-mouthed gasps as his body shuddered with aftershocks. Levi trembled beneath him, just as undone, her breath sweet on his temple as she turned her head to kiss him where he had buried his head in the crook of her neck, almost in tears at the emotions and sensations that crashed through him.

He had precious little experience to go on, but Bucky knew this, at the very basement of his soul; what they’d just shared was special, a once in a lifetime connection and he would never, if he lived to be a hundred and slept with thousands of other women, be able to duplicate it with anyone else.

Levi hummed softly, stroking his hair as if she sensed the depth of his thoughts right now, as if she could hear the revelation crashing through his soul and mind and he lifted his head, capturing her mouth in a kiss that held a tinge of desperation, then relief when the passion that had spurred it rushed back in again.

“Thank you.” He whispered, nuzzling back into her nape. What could have been awkward and uncomfortable had instead been sheer beauty.

“I wish,” Levi began, then swallowed and continued. “I wish you’d been my first.”

“Me too.” Bucky breathed. “None of them count anymore, for either of us. It’s just you and me, together.”

“Yes,” Levi replied dreamily, her fingers trailing light magic across his shoulders.

Still inside her, still half-hard, Bucky felt a surge of renewed energy. He wasn’t done, not by a long shot and he hoped Levi wasn’t either. Experimentally, he rolled his hips gently, pushing further into her and lifted his head to search her face.

She grinned lazily up at him, rocking her hips in response, her grin widening when Bucky bit back a strangled groan, hardening instantly, almost painfully inside her again. “You want more?” She teased.

“I want you.”

“Want to try something else?”

“Teacher, teach me.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as Levi laughed out loud then she hooked her leg around him and twisted, in a move that would make any high school wrestling coach proud, pivoting their joined bodies in one fluid motion so Bucky was suddenly on his back beneath her and Levi straddled his hips, him still buried inside her.

“Whoa.” He chuckled, gripping her hips. It devolved into a primal groan as Levi rolled her hips, her hands splayed on his chest. “I like this already.”

Levi rolled her eyes and grabbed his hands, pushing them up above his head so she leaned over him, their faces inches apart and rocked her body sinuously, dancing above him and all coherent thought left him as pure pleasure took its place, jolts of ecstasy skittering through his limbs.

“Lev….” He moaned, rapidly losing himself in sensations, drowning in bliss, eyes rolling shut.

Letting go of his hands, Levi sat back upright and Bucky opened his eyes for a moment; but then Lev pressed her hands to his chest and started to roll her hips and he was lost again, arching his head back into the pillows as he groaned, lids fluttering shut again.

“Fuck, I-” Lifting his hands from above his head, Bucky grabbed Levi’s hips and started to rock them, guided by some animal instinct and his body tensed below hers, ready to explode again.

“Bucky…” Lev’s voice was dreamy and slow, languid with pleasure and he forced through his haze of bliss to see her. His heart, already thundering like a racehorse, damn near exploded as he saw Levi bit her bottom lip seductively then trail a hand down her glistening body to where they joined. His breath caught in his chest as she scratched her nails lightly across his straining lower belly, sweat caught in the fine hairs leading down his cock and a low growl of appreciation and encouragement, really the only sounds he was capable of right now, certainly not words, as she started to rub her clit; hissing when her walls tightened suddenly around him then he was clutching her bruisingly tight and thrusting upwards, holding her down for maximum penetration.

Levi arched above him with a scream, her orgasm hitting like a freight train, walls clamping down on his cock and it was suddenly too much, and Bucky could only surrender, letting the waves of his climax crash over him. The most beautiful pain, raw release and throbbing pleasure, a deep guttural groan as he spilled inside her, feeling each jet of seed until he filled her, and it seeped back out to coat them.

With a whimpering sound, Levi collapsed onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, bowing into her and burying his face in her throat as the last clenches of their shared release faded. Muscles shaking and trembling, weak-limbed with exertion, Bucky felt any residual tension leave him and he lay boneless beneath Levi, still holding her to his chest like the purest treasure. She melted against him, languid and soft, breath feathering over his skin, goose bumping it and Bucky could only manage to mumble a few words before sleep claimed them both.

“I love you.”

*************************************************************

“Did you hear back yet from anywhere?” Bucky asked, looking up from a pile of homework as Levi entered his bedroom, slinging her messenger bag onto her favored beanbag chair.

“Yeah,” Levi answered, but there was a vagueness in her voice that caught his attention.

In the months since Christmas, they had only strengthened together. Study sessions continued but they usually devolved into making love, their bodies familiar to each other now, knowing the special places and touches to make the other shudder in ecstasy. They were inseparable, attached at the hip, Bucky’s arm a permanent fixture around Levi’s waist or shoulders when they weren’t required to be apart during classes. It became a normal sight to see them studying together, Levi in Bucky’s lap or seated directly in front of him, reading from the same book, Bucky wrapped around Levi, his head resting on her shoulder and looking completely at home.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, forgetting the assignment that had had his attention just a few seconds ago. “Lev?”

With a sigh, Lev reluctantly met his gaze. “I got in.”

“Where?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Both.”

Bucky fell silent, his worst nightmare coming true.

Lev snorted, an angry sound. “I only applied to say I could. I never expected to get in without an Athletic scholarship.”

“But that was your dream,” Bucky replied. “You and Steve far away from Brock.”

Lev sighed and raked a hand through her hair. “Yeah, before. I don’t need to leave now; I don’t need that scholarship.”

Lev had quit all her sports teams after Brock’s death. Although naturally talented like her brother, Levi had never enjoyed sports like Steve had, had pursued it only for the scholarship chances it offered.

“But… they have one of the best Architecture programs too. That’s what you want to do now, right?” Bucky was hesitant, the reason for Lev’s distress tickling at the corners of his mind, but he didn’t want to face it anymore than she did right now.

“So?” The petulance was back, hints of the princess she’d once been.

“So… that’s your dream, to be an Architect.”

Levi shook her head. “I want to be with you.”

Bucky fell silent, the elephant in the room finally uncovered. He was attending a local college, had already been accepted. It was necessary, he needed to stay home to help his mom, to watch his sisters; they weren’t ready yet, weren’t stable enough yet after his father’s death for him to go far away. Levi had applied there too, for general studies and, for a lark, never expecting a positive response, to the same university Steve had just received a full boat Athletic scholarship from. Without the promise of her athletic capabilities, she’d not expected good news, it had been more of a ‘I did it to say that I did’ kind of situation and, for a time, while the applications hovered in limbo, Bucky had allowed himself to indulge in fantasies of the two of them together, attending college and perfect in a little bubble of-

“What the fuck am I going to do, Bucky?” Lev’s voice broke into his thoughts and he unconsciously stood and moved to her side, sank down to pull her to him because she was crying, and it rocked the very bedrock of his soul to hear her distressed.

She sniffled, letting out a shaky sigh as Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know, First World Problems, right? If that fucker was still alive, I’d been dancing on the ceiling for the chance to get away from him but now… I don’t need to leave; I don’t want to-”

“You have to.” The words burned, sliced his throat as they passed but he closed his eyes and forced them out, because they needed to be said.

“Bucky-”

“No. Lev, you need to go. It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“What are you talking-”

Bucky forced himself to continue, despite the growing pain in his chest. “This is your dream, Lev. Architecture. With Brock gone you can actually pursue it. You need to go.”

“No.” Levi’s voice held a hard edge. “I’m not leaving you.”

“There’s no architecture programs here, you’d be putting yourself back years-”

“So?!”

“SO, I CAN’T LET YOU THROW THIS CHANCE AWAY!” Tears burned hot in Bucky’s eyes and he gritted his teeth. “I have to stay, you don’t.”

“I love you, Bucky.” There was a crack in her voice now.

“I love you, too baby. So much it hurts… enough to let you go.” Indescribable pain hit him then, so he could barely focus as Levi suddenly leapt to her feet, whirling to face him. Tears flowed down her flushed cheeks and she looked crushed. She tried to speak but could only choke out a sob, pressing the flat of her fist to her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut. Bucky stumbled to his feet, reaching for her. Levi took a step back, eyes opening to glare at him. Betrayal shone in their violet depths. We were supposed to be in this together, they accused. I thought you had my back.

I do, Bucky replied silently, letting the tears fall. That’s why I’m pushing you now. For you.

Levi’s face contorted, but no words came and she whirled suddenly, disappearing out the door; seconds later, he heard the front door slam and he exhaled a tremulous breath, feeling as lost as he had when the Sheriff had knocked on their door almost three years ago, hat in hand, to tell them that George James Barnes was never coming home.

************************************************************************

“Jesus, what the hell did you say to her last night?” Steve asked the next morning.

Bucky’s numerous texts and phone calls had gone unanswered, and only Steve had shown up for school today, zeroing in on Bucky like a Patriot missile; knowing that, where his sister was involved, there was definitely more to the story.

Bucky sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, messing up the waves. “Levi got accepted to both schools.”

“And?” Steve asked, puzzled. “I mean, that’s great, but why does that have her-”

“She wants to stay here, with me… and I told her to go, with you.”

Steve went pale as the realization set in. Bucky could hear the gears turning in his head and he waited silently, waiting for Steve to say what hurt too badly for him to say himself.

“She won’t become an Architect if she stays…. I mean, she would, eventually but-”

“She’d essentially be giving up her dream, when she actually has a chance to achieve it. If she stays here, its General Studies and then what? She needs to go, Steve, you know it too. They’re one of the best programs, it’s not even a question.”

“But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You love her, she loves you-”

Jesus, was this a Roger’s thing? A purposeful blindness to practicality? “That isn’t the point!” Bucky bit his lip, fighting sudden tears, thankful that he’d seen the big blond hulk coming and moved to a quiet corner of the quad, where no one would hopefully see his breakdown. “The point is her dream. She has the opportunity now to go for it. I don’t have the right to hold her back, I don’t want to hold her back.”

“Is it though?” Steve asked quietly.

“Is it what?”

“Holding her back?”

“What? Me?”

“Love.” Steve replied. “She’s alive again Bucky, since she met you. Brock nearly killed her and there was only so much I could do to help. She needs you.”

“I’ll still be here, when she gets back.”

Steve sighed, shoulders sagging.

“This isn’t a fairy-tale, man. You know same as me, shit happens. Sometimes you need to do things because it’s right, not because it’s what you want. I don’t want Levi to go but it’s her dream and I can’t stand in her way.”

Steve was silent for so long Bucky began to wonder if he was even going to say anything, but then he sighed again, like the weight of the world was on him, and Bucky knew exactly what that felt like.

“I see where you’re coming from.” He muttered.

“And you know I’m right.” Bucky said curtly.

“Doesn’t make it easy.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“You really love her, huh?”

“More than anything else.”

“More than your own happiness.”

“Yes.” The confession hung heavy in the air, collecting the torment in Bucky’s voice and growing heavier still.

Steve exhaled hard, scrubbing at his crew cut and looked around for inspiration, or maybe just to avoid the sorrow in Bucky’s eyes. “I’ll explain this to her but man, you know as well as I do, Lev does her own thing.”

“I do. But she listens to you, Steve. If you tell her to go, she’ll do it.”

Steve fixed Bucky with a piercing look, enough that Bucky felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny and shifted his feet, wanting to look away. “I’ll talk to her tonight.”

“Thank you.”

Steve nodded, then slapped Bucky’s shoulder and strode away.

**************************************************************************

“You’re too damn practical, you know that, Barnes?” Levi snarked, stepping through the bedroom door.

Bucky stood and all but launched himself at her, her scowl not deterring him in the slightest. She stood rigidly in his embrace for a moment, then sighed and relaxed against him, clinging with a sudden desperation.

“I don’t want to leave you.” She whispered.

“You aren’t.” Bucky murmured back, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We’ll call each other night, Skype whenever we can… and you’ll be back on holidays and breaks.”

“It won’t be the same.” She sniffled, rubbing her nose on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he breathed. Lifting his head, he cradled her face and tipped it back to meet his eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks but there was new resolve in her amethyst gaze. “I’ll be here, this isn’t the end.” Holding her gaze, fighting his own tears, Bucky brushed hers away with his thumbs and forced a smile.

He did the same a few months later in the airport terminal, just as the final boarding call sounded and Steve stood a few feet away, waiting for Levi to join him.

“Go,” Bucky whispered, thumbs soft on her cheeks. She gripped his wrists with heartbreaking desperation. “I’ll be here. Remember… I love you, always.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, gazed steadily at her as Levi pulled reluctantly away, moved to join her brother, shouldering her messenger bag and turned, disappearing through the doors to the jetway.

Only then did Bucky let the tears fall.

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fratresdei · 5 years ago

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Exvangelical Thoughts on New Year’s Eve

When I was a good youth group kid, I was rip-roaring ready to convert my friends to Evangelical Protestantism (or “Christianity,” as I called it). The Cosmic Narrative™ made so much sense to me: Creation, Fall, Redemption, Restoration. I was ready to do my part in bringing as many people into the fold as possible as my duty between the Redemption (sacrifice and resurrection of Christ) and the Restoration (eternity with God).

“Duty.” Singular.

I had a lot of energy and willingness behind this calling, but I repeatedly ran into 2 major hangups:

1. Abject Misery. While I was allegedly chomping on the fruit of the Spirit, I found myself utterly lacking in one particular area: Joy. I remember thinking to myself, Maybe not everybody gets to experience joy in the Christian life. Maybe a lack of joy is simply my cross to bear, and I just need to accept that. I could theologically state that through Christ my guilt was lifted and that he was my antidepressant and that my life had totally made a 180, etc. However, more often then not my mood was just a notch below neutral, and the “Joy of the Lord” seemed to be something that was simply not part of God’s Plan for My Life. (I also just straight up had depression but that’s a story for another time.)

2. Apathy. Living into the Cosmic Narrative meant I could enjoy a relatively detached high school existence, as the present day was simply the foretaste of the world to come. Once all the nonsense of the pre-Restored world wrapped up, then we could finally truly live and enjoy the fruits of our proselytizing efforts. However, even as a deeply evangelically-minded fifteen-year-old, I was routinely visited by the question, Yeah, but what do we do in the meantime? Just make converts? … Okay. We’re just gonna…make converts then…

As I grew older, the question of “What do we do in the meantime?” Never fully left my side, and as the question grew stronger, my evangelicalism grew weaker.

Growing up a short drive from the Atlantic Ocean, I spent a lot of time at the beach staring out at the horizon, squinting to see West Africa. One summer day in my early 20s, as I gazed out at the infinity of restless water, I felt a heavy sense of gratitude.

I didn’t sense some kind of “foretaste of glory divine.” I felt as though I had received something profoundly divine at that precise moment.

My response? Sincere, joyful engagement with God.

This holiday season has got me thinking about joy, and this Christmas season has got me thinking about Ultimate Cosmic Stuff. When Christians get caught up in hyper-evangelicalism, we miss the point of the Cosmic Narrative—to live in Spirit-saturated union with God forever. The different milestones of the narrative provide helpful structure for understanding the basics of Christian belief, but when it becomes the primary thing we hang our hats on, it becomes, if we’re honest, pretty unfulfilling.

And produces a lot of depressed teenagers.

As such, I would like to propose a new Cosmic Narrative:

Formerly “Creation”: God creates a way in which we can exist and enjoy Spirit-saturated union with them forever.

Formerly “Fall”: Humanity takes steps backward from this idea of Spirit-saturated union with God forever. God remains present and is ready at all times to continue living in Spirit-saturated union with humanity forever.

Formerly “Redemption”: Jesus communicates that Spirit-saturated union with God forever remains an option to all people groups.

Formerly “Restoration”: We continue enjoying Spirit-saturated union with God forever.

As I sit in my office on New Year’s Eve watching snowflakes swirl in waves out the window, the prospect that God created this moment as a gift to my neighbors and me to enjoy with her me as wildly more compelling than something to immediately log in my apologetics notes. The possibility that God wove together hydrated crystals in the sky to softly send down to earth means a lot more to me than the eradication of my guilt. This blessed union, to me, is a theology worth spreading.

See what joy we’re cooking up at Fratres Dei. A link can be found in the comments.

#exvangelical #evangelical #christianity #devotional #religion #new year #new years #new years eve #theology #bible #ministry #blog #writing #blogger #blog post

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lostbutterflyutau · 5 years ago

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The Second Navidad

Feliz Navidad, Gui! How weirdly convienent is it that I’M your secret santa?! So those headcanons I was asking for? Yeah. Ulterior motives.

Note: Several elements here are purposefully canon divergent. Because he is my friend and I know all about @ograndebatata’s AU and the way he has chosen to build certain characters, this story is based off of that AU. That means it includes HIS version of Ash Delgado, who not only left for a longer amount of time, but had a more concrete reason for doing so. His version of her is a far better person than in canon and still holds a lot of love for her husband and daughter, even if it took a few months to really restore those relationships. If you want to know more, check out his posts about it.

That being said, I really, really hope nobody minds! And that I did it alright for you! I really did try!

******

Ash sighed as she turned over the dress again, turning it to the front and then the back and around again before looking up at her and the garment’s reflection in the mirror. Every detail she had sketched out was before her, perfectly sewn in and secured. Even the candlelight reflecting off of the silver beading was perfect and confirmed her thought that it would look amazing in the sunlight against the backdrop of the snow of their white Navidad – Or, Christmas, as they called it in Norberg. And yet, she still wasn’t satisfied.

She thought about adding even more beads, but then wondered if that would be overkill. Then she considered adding another ruffle or two to the bottom.

“No. That would make it childish…” She muttered to herself, following the statement up with a low groan as she turned and carefully draped the dress over a chair. Carla wasn’t a child. Not anymore. Though it was hard to remember that at times, particularly in those moments when she was snuggled up to her mother on the sofa or curled up with a blanket just like she was now. Except, instead of her own, she’d fallen asleep in her parents’ bed after helping her mother wrap up the gifts for her father. They weren’t anything big and in truth, Ash didn’t really need the help, but it gave her a chance to spend time with Carla in private.

Ever since they reunited the previous Navidad and she realised just how little she actually knew about her daughter, Ash had made it a point to take the time to get to know her, what she liked and how she liked them done, which is how she had picked the base dress for her Navidad gift. Not that she had many choices. With Carla being so petite, the second-hand shops they visited were very hit-or-miss and she couldn’t pick something that had to be tried on, not when it was supposed to be a gift.

‘There has to be something I can do…’ Ash mused, pushing a stray piece of hair from her eyes as she sat to rifle through the small box of embellishments on the floor, only looking up when a soft knock came at the door before it cracked open.

“Am I allowed to come in now?” Victor asked even as he pushed the door open, frowning when he got no response from either woman, the expression only deepening at both the sight of his wife on the floor surrounded by stray pieces of wrapping paper and a handful of sewing tools and the dismissive way she waved him off before turning back to the materials. He raised a curious eyebrow, asked as he crossed over to the bed, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine,” Ash replied, rolled her eyes. She didn’t need or want his help. She had made it a point to keep him out of the process. This was her gift to Carla. The first Navidad gift she’d given her since she was two. As petty as it was, she wanted to have all the credit for being the one the put such a smile on her daughter’s face. At least, that’s what she had hoped to do before that evening.

“It doesn’t look fine,” Victor retorted, adjusting Carla’s blanket and then smiling at the soft noise she made before snuggling back into it. He knew he’d have to move her eventually but was content to let her stay for the time being – even if she was taking up the whole bed.

She ignored him, muttered as she continued to shuffle things around, “It will be.”

Victor paused, considered his choices for a moment before opting for a different tactic once his eyes fell on the dress. “That dress looks beautiful, Mi Amor. Certainly, better than the things I used to come up with.”

“You’re just saying that,” Ash huffed, held in a frustrated groan when, even after two through searches, she hadn’t found anything useful.

“Why would I lie to you? Especially about something so small?”

She gave another huff and closed the tin, only looking up when she felt a hand come down on her shoulder.

“So…” He started, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are you just going to be in a mood all night?”

“What part of ‘everything’s fine’ don’t you understand?”

Victor only sighed as he shifted, moved to sit next to her. Even after a year of being back together and working to repair their relationship, she was still a bit rough around the edges. He supposed she’d always been a little hardened, but it hadn’t been this tough all those years ago.

“Pluma…” He finally said.

Her eyes flicked up briefly before turning back down to the container in her hands which were idly playing with the decorative ribbon on the top while she contemplated her options, tried to decide if she wanted to tell him or not. After all, it was pathetic. Finally, she gave a defeated sigh, quietly asked, “What if it’s not enough?”

“And what is it?” He replied, running his hand gently up and down her back.

“The dress!” She finally admitted. “You saw the way she was looking at the one in the market. This isn’t even close.”

He didn’t respond at first, only gave her a sympathetic smile before turning to the garment draped over the desk chair. While he thought it looked beautiful, he also completely understood where the insecurity came from. More than once over the years he wondered if his own efforts were enough for his daughter and felt terrible that they had to skip formal events and festivals due to a lack of proper clothing. Carla loved dressing up. Always had. And not being able to let her indulge in something she loved so much often made him feel like he wasn’t doing enough. For all her strength and stubbornness, he wondered now if his wife felt the same way.

“What if she hates it?” Ash suddenly said, her voice cutting through his thoughts.

“She won’t,” Victor reassured.

“How do you know? I don’t even know if it’ll fit properly.”

“It will. There’s a reason you picked one that laces up,” He pointed out, resisting the instinct to frown again when she merely continued playing with the ribbon. He gave another small sigh, gently reach for and removed the tin from her hands, saying when he set it down by his side, “Pluma, look at me.”

She bit her lip, unsure if she could actually do what he asked. If she did, then she really wouldn’t be able to hide. He’d see it in her eyes. The fear. The worry. The insecurities she kept hidden deep down. She knew in the back of her mind that she shouldn’t have to hide those things from him, but there was also a part of her that just couldn’t sacrifice her pride when it came to this project.

He saw her hesitation, gave a reassuring smile as he slipped his hand under her chin, tilted her head up. “She’s going to love it. Trust me.”

Ash glanced from him to the dress and back again, tried to convince herself that he was right. Of course Carla would love it. Her mother made it. And she’d never had any complaints about the things made for her before, in fact, she always complimented the pieces and seemed thrilled with both the fact that her mother was back and willing to make her clothing and that the things she made were just as good as those she saw in the high-end shops she was always staring into. Maybe they weren’t designer evening gown quality, but Carla liked them. Then again, this was her first “real” Navidad with her mother in years.

Finally, she spoke, “And if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” He reassured and then stopped for a moment, considered his words before admitting, “I know it’s hard. I often wondered if I was doing enough for her myself.” He paused, stole another look at his daughter, who muttered something in her sleep and shifted over. “Still do, actually.”

There had been several holidays and birthdays where Carla only got the smallest gifts. Things like little trinkets he’d stolen in their travels and cheap jewellery from market stands. There had even been those where he wasn’t able to afford anything extra. She said she never minded, but he always felt terrible about it, particularly during those few months he had attempted to settle down in Parasio and she was targeted at school due to her status as “the poor girl.” He looked down; his thoughts being broken when his wife sighed again before forcing herself up and stalking back over to the chair to pick the dress up again.

Victor was right, it was pretty. In fact, she thought it was some of her best work. And, while she couldn’t completely shake off her doubts, she knew that there was nothing more she could add to it. Not without it becoming a complete mess or having to redesign the whole thing, which would take far longer than the few hours she had.

‘I guess there’s nothing else I can do,’ She thought to herself, startling when she felt a hand on her back and realised she hadn’t even heard Victor move, something that was extremely rare for her given that she’d been taught for years how to always be aware of her surroundings even when distracted.

“Why don’t you get that wrapped and I’ll take her to bed?” He suggested and she nodded. He then waited until she had transferred the dress into a nondescript box before heading over to the bed and carefully coaxing their daughter awake.

“Carla…” He whispered, delicately caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. He knew he had to be gentle. Carla was often in a mood whenever she was woken up, especially if it was rough. She had always preferred to be awoken with soft touches and gentle whispers.

Despite his consideration, she still made a discontented noise, curled further into herself, getting a small smile and a laugh in response as her father moved to run his hand along her back.

“I know, Mi Hija. But you can’t stay here. You have your own bed,” He coaxed, watched as she stirred, rolling over one direction and then the other before moving onto her back and sleepily blinking her eyes open.

“Papa?” She murmured.

He smiled, reached over to brush a piece of hair from her eyes. Even though she was about two months shy of eighteen at this point, there were times he couldn’t help but see her as an adorable little girl who still needed him, and this was no exception.

Carla gave a soft groan and she forced herself up, said after she looked around and processed what had happened, “Where’s Mami?”

“She’s still here,” Victor reassured, ran a gentle hand over her hair. “Now, come on. You need to go to bed.”

“But I’m…”

“Your own bed,”

She pouted, took a minute to weigh her options. She could keep arguing until he agreed to let her stay, but she knew that would make her look more childish then she was already being. But there was a part of her that just couldn’t help it. With it being her first proper Navidad with both parents that she could remember, she’d become clingier than usual. She wanted to do everything she could with them, even if she was well past the age where activities such as cookie decorating at the marketplace and wrapping presents with her Mami was supposed to be fun. She bit her lip as she again thought about how to respond.

“Carla…” He pushed, interrupting her before she could fully gather her thoughts and receiving a huff in response before she held out her arms in surrender. He chuckled as he scooped her and the blanket up, his expression immediately softening when she snuggled into him, her head settling just so in the crook of his shoulder.

“You’re spoiled. You know that?” He teased.

She didn’t respond, only nestled even further into her spot, the motion drawing a smile out of her mother as she approached and moved a piece of hair out of her eyes, her smile widening slightly when Carla turned her head.

“Mami?” She said sleepily, almost as if she couldn’t believe her mother was still there.

“Goodnight, Mi Hija,” Ash whispered and gently kissed her daughter’s head, giving a light laugh when she smiled back and curled back into her father. There was a time where she had been jealous of the affection Carla had for Victor and the bond that they’d developed in her absence. The logical part of her knew that it made sense. For fifteen years all they had was each other. But the emotional part – the part that she hid so well – couldn’t help but feel slighted. She knew now though that Carla did in fact want her around, even if she made mistakes and didn’t always know the right thing to say and could only hope that her gift wasn’t one of those mistakes.

‘Stop it, Ash!’ She scolded herself as Victor made his way out of the room and she crossed it, heading back over to grab the gift box and deciding as she wrapped it that she was going to stop fretting over it. The dress was done, simple as that.

***** Once she finished off and cut the decorative ribbon, Ash gathered up the two small packages containing her and Carla’s gifts for Victor and carried them out to the tree. It was the nicest one they’d ever had. At least, that’s what Carla claimed when they had brought it back to their small, refurbished cabin. They’d never been able to afford anything larger than a tabletop tree and honestly, still couldn’t afford to actually buy a tree. So, they’d cut one down instead. It wasn’t the big, fancy storybook tree that Carla admitted to always having dreamed of, but they didn’t have room for such a thing.

They’d had the best time making ornaments together to go along with the few little things they’d picked up at the market on the cheap, most of which had started as half-finished craft projects the merchants were trying to clear out that became beautiful, sparkling pieces of art with just a few creative touches.

She smiled at the memory, at the thought of her daughter smiling and laughing while she followed her mother’s careful instructions, her eyes full of nothing but pure happiness as she delicately layered glitter on snowflakes and perfected the small details on their previously blank glass ornaments that now reflected the magical sparks beautifully. The tradition was to light the tress with candles, but the idea had never sat well with any of them. And since they had the ability to use magic, they did.

‘There. Perfect,’ Ash decided, taking a few steps back to admire their – okay, mostly her – handiwork. Even if it wasn’t exactly like those storybooks Carla mentioned, it still looked perfect.

“It’s beautiful,” Victor cut in, his voice and touch interrupting her thoughts.

She let out an uncharacteristically dreamy sigh at the feeling of his hand on her back, leaned her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, appreciated the warmth and feel of his touch as that hand slid down to settle on her hip. After everything they had been through over the past year, she was grateful to have some peace and time to just be a family. It had been a long road since that first Navidad. She’d never meant for them to be separated for so long -- or at all, for that matter. But in the fifteen years she was forced into hiding and training, she thought about her husband and daughter often, wondered how they were fairing. The day they reunited had been one of the happiest days of her life. But the feeling quickly faded when reality set in and she realised that she knew nothing about her daughter.

Carla was far from the two-year-old she left behind. She didn’t play with plush blocks and toy tamboritas anymore. She liked makeup and theatre and art. Ash felt like she had to start from square one. She had to learn everything all over again -- from her daughter’s favourite foods to how she liked her hair brushed. It took some time, but they got there. Together. And now they were getting the change to have a real Navidad. One with a tree and snow and all the little, cheesy activities in between.

She gave a soft laugh at the thought, glanced up just as Victor glanced down, bright blue meeting dull green as he asked,

“What?”

“Nothing,” Ash replied, laid her head back down.

Despite his curiosity, Victor decided against pressing her. By the look on her face, he gathered that it wasn’t a particularly important matter. Instead, he said as he tightened his hold on her, “I meant it when I said it was beautiful.”

She smirked, said coyly, “Not as beautiful as me though, right?”

He laughed, smoothly slid around from his position at her side to take her hand in his free one. “Of course not, Mi Amor,” He declared, drawing her towards him.

“What are you – ?” She started even as her own hands inactively found their proper places.

“What do you think?” He interrupted as he started to move, carefully guiding her along until they fell into step. It’d been a long time since they had danced together, but they found their rhythm easily and, for a moment, were brought back to that second Sunflower Festival. The one where they had meticulously planned their meeting and spent the whole night dancing and laughing and talking the same way they were doing now as they made their way across the room, weaving their way around the various pieces of furniture and décor until they stopped where they had started, the glow from the magic illuminating the adoration they saw in each other’s eyes. Something that had been denied and then hidden for so long. Too long.

Ash took a step forward, slid her hands up and around his neck, whispering as she started to carefully, slowly, toy with his hair in the way she knew would drive him crazy, “So…” She started, drawing out the word. “Any plans for the night?”

He chuckled, pulled her in just an inch closer, “Why? Do you have an idea?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She teased back as she leaned up, ending the question with a tentative kiss that quickly melted into a soft, renewed passion as they embraced the spirit of the holiday together. ***** The following morning was far less quiet as the couple bustled about the kitchen and dining area, alternating between cooking and place setting, moving the decorations and dishes one way and then another and back again before deciding that it looked just right. Well… almost. There was still an important piece missing.

“Is she really still asleep?” Ash thought aloud as she glanced towards the clock, setting the breakfast platter on the table with a frown.

“You know she’s a late sleeper,” Victor pointed out with a shrug. It was true. Carla had never been a morning person. She had a bad habit of staying up late and sleeping late that he admitted was partly his fault. Being on the run was much easier at night.

“Even on Navidad?”

Victor thought for a moment. “I have an idea,” He declared as he moved to set up one of the plates, motioning for his wife to follow when he finished.

Together, their made their way down the hall and into Carla’s room, both smiling at the sight of their daughter still curled up in her bed like a kitten. Just the way her father had left her the night before.

“Carla?” Ash called softly and made her way over to the bed to sit. She carefully jostled her, startled at the noise she made as she shifted over. “Come on, Mi Luz,” She coaxed. “You don’t want to sleep through Navidad, do you?”

Sensing the familiar touch, Carla shifted again, softly groaned as she finally stirred and blinked her eyes open.

“Feliz Navidad, Mi Hija!” Both parents said as Carla forced herself up and rubbed her eyes with another groan, earning soft laughs as they were again confronted with the fact that she definitely did not do mornings well.

“We brought your breakfast,” Victor informed her, carefully handing over a plate with two, small pieces of Pan Dulce as he set a glass down on her nightstand, smiling at the way her eyes immediately lit up once she realised what was in front of her.

“Pan Dulce? For breakfast?” She asked, her gaze a mix of joy and confusion.

“It used to be our Navidad tradition,” Ash said.

“Do you remember her first Navidad?” Victor asked, moving to join his wife on the edge of the bed.

“Of course I do. I think it was only the second or third time she had it.”

“And she just couldn’t get enough of it,” He turned towards Carla. “Then there was the second one where you – ”

Ash cut in, “Knocked the plate over because you weren’t tall enough to actually reach the table.” She laughed, both at the memory and the faint blush that appeared on Carla’s cheeks when she turned her head away. She wasn’t sure if her daughter actually remembered or if it was simply second-hand embarrassment, but, either way, it was adorable and though she rarely ever said it out loud for fear of being perceived as too soft, she had missed those kind of moments during her time away. There was so much she had missed. So many birthdays, holidays and milestones that she was doing her best to make up for. It didn’t matter that her daughter was so much older now. All that mattered was that she was happy as she eagerly cut in and out of the conversation, switching between talking and eating and then handing back her plate when she finished.

“We’ll worry about it later,” Victor said, set the dish down on the nightstand with the empty glass. “Right now, you have presents to open,” He reminded his daughter, who brightened even more at the statement. With the memories of those few, tough Navidads where he hadn’t been able to afford even a small gift for her still playing in his mind, he relished in the way she practically bounced into their small living room. Of course, it still wasn’t much. But he knew she was grateful. How could she not be? She had her mother back. Her parents had reconciled. And, now she was getting her dream holiday. It was even snowing! Something that they’d never had on Navidad due to staying in mostly warmer areas.

“Slow down, Carla,” Victor said as he settled himself on the couch, holding back another laugh at the sight of his daughter impatiently pawing through the boxes underneath the tree, trying to figure out what was real and what was decoration.

“But Papa…” Carla half-whined, the effect ruined by the eagerness in her voice.

“No ‘buts,’” Ash teased before ordering, “Go sit with your father.”

Carla gave a small pout but did as she was told and moved to join her father on the sofa, her smile returning when her mother picked and handed over one of the boxes before joining them.

Though she was smiling, part of Ash was still a touch nervous about her gift, which is why she had chosen it first. Better to simply get the moment done with, if only to save herself from the worry she still felt. After all, what if Carla really did hate the dress? Or, at the very least, was disappointed despite her efforts? She had been so entranced with the display in the marketplace. The flowing red fabric, the sheer layering, the intricate beading… All things that Ash was sure she could have done if she had more time and didn’t have to keep the project a secret, but she didn’t have the time or the money for the expensive fabrics needed for such a piece. This would be the moment of truth then.

Would Carla be happy with blue instead of red? With a second-hand piece that was only brought back to life by her mother’s touch? Or would she completely reject it and –

Ash startled, her through cut off by an audible gasp as Carla lifted the garment from its box. She quickly stood up so she could hold it up and see the full length of it -- from the white fuzzy trim lining the top and ends of the sleeves to the carefully-sewn beading that gave the bodice a shiny but elegant touch and ended at a sash set with a snowflake shaped charm on the left side and gave way to a long, flowing skirt with the cutest transparent ruffle on the hemline.

Seeing the look on her daughter’s face as she turned the dress over once, twice, three times before holding it against her body was enough to finally dispel all of Ash’s fears.

Carla giggled, revelling in the way the dress brushed against her feet as she twirled with it. It was beautiful and perfect and… she stopped, took a moment to study the beading again and then gasped when she recognised the familiar stitching patterns. The same one that was on her one and only ballgown.

“You did this,” She said, her thoughts carrying over into her words as she looked towards her mother.

“I know it’s not as elegant as the one in the market but – oh!” Ash startled when Carla threw her arms around her, squeezing tight.

“You’re right. It’s not like the one in the market,” Carla said when she pulled back, her smile widening as she continued, “It’s better.”

“Carla – ”

“I think I have a ribbon that matches,” Carla interrupted. “Can you do my hair before we go out later?”

Ash pulled her back in, replied as she ran a gentle hand over her daughter’s hair, “Of course, Mi Luz.” She turned to Victor, added, “As long as Papa doesn’t mind.”

“Hey, I’m just the one that does the brushing,” He said. Brushing, he could do. Sometimes even a decent ponytail or braid, but that was about it. Since he just never quite got the hang of styling her hair, he was more than willing to let her mother do it. Besides, it made them both so happy.

Carla smiled at them both before finally pulling away to place the dress back in its box, impatiently awaiting the moment when she would get to pull it out again and finally put it on. ***** When the time came that afternoon, Carla stood admiring her reflection in the mirror as her mother carefully tied the back of her new dress. It was a perfect fit and fell in exactly the right places, the dark blue looking great against her skin tone and eye colour. Her hair was only partially pulled back and tied with a large ribbon in the same shade of blue. She would have preferred to put it up but knew that changing her appearance made it harder for her to be recognised when they were out and about, though she wasn’t sure if anyone would really go as far as Norberg to look.

“You look great,” Ash complimented, settling her hands over her daughter’s shoulders when she finished.

“I know,” Carla joked with an exaggerated twirl.

Her mother shook her head, moved to grab both of the cloaks lying on the bed. “Come on,” She said once they were in hand.

They headed out together and found Victor -- who had been flipping through the book Carla had gifted him -- waiting in the living room. He stopped, immediately closed the book once he heard the familiar footfalls.

“Papa!” Carla exclaimed, asking as she repeated her twirl for him, “What do you think?

“I think you look beautiful,” He said, carefully taking her hand and twirling her again as she laughed, something her parents noticed her doing a lot of lately.

Maybe it wasn’t always easy -- especially being on the run from both the Avaloran Guard and trying to avoid the Evergrowing Forest – and maybe sneaking around wasn’t always fun, but they made it work the best that they could, both parents determined to give their daughter some semblance of the normal life she’d barely gotten to experience over the past fifteen years.

Even if it was just one day, it was a day filled with love, lights and the smell of freshly baked cookies waiting to be decorated.

#Elena of Avalor #My fanfiction #eoa secret santa 2019 #Carla Delgado #Victor Delgado #Ash Delgado #Delgado fam #Family Feels #canon divergent !u #My friend's AU!

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dailyaudiobible · 5 years ago

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12/25/2019 DAB Transcript

Zechariah 8:1-23, Revelation 16:1-21, Psalms 144:1-15, Proverbs 30:29-31

Today is the 25th day of December. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian. It is great to be here with you today. Obviously, today is Christmas Day. So, Merry Christmas. What a day of celebration. Joy to the world, the Lord has come.

Song:

Joy to the World

Alright. So, even though it's Christmas day and there’s a lot going on such, it is such a joy and an honor to be here on Christmas around this Global Campfire, maintaining this rhythm of allowing God's word to speak into our lives every day, no matter what day it is. It is a joy to be here with you on Christmas day, taking the next step forward in the Scriptures. And we’ve the reading from the Good News Translation this week. So, we’ll continue with that. And today we’ll read from Zechariah, chapter 8.

Commentary:

Okay. So, this…this marks my 14th Christmas of reading the Daily Audio Bible. So, this is my 14th Christmas day reading this portion of Scripture. And it's…it's really interesting. I mean…in years gone by, I can read this portion of Scripture and go like, “man…could there be any other portion of Scripture that we could read on Christmas day because this is…this is just a lot of judgment and a lot of really horrible, horrible things happening on the earth in the book of Revelation. And I, you know, my…I mean…my temperament…I've been a creative my entire…I mean…I’ve made my way in the world by creating things. And, so, that kind of gives me a natural kind of melancholy temperament. And, so, when the rhythms of my life change, like if I’m finishing a lengthy project and finally that it’s done and there’s that lull or there's the disruption of the patterns of life like Christmas and there's kind of sort of this pause, this lull, this different thing. Even though it may be incredibly joyous, just underneath it all is like the blues, I guess, is the best way to describe it. Sort of this unsettledness, this…this I don't think I would go as far as to say depression or anything just kind of like, why, why isn't everything right today. Everything. Everything around me, like friends, family, gifts, joy, festivities, feasting all…all of the things that we should do to commemorate and celebrate the arrival of the Savior. Like it's all here, it's…it's all good, why does it feel like something's missing? And I usually…like I can feel it even as I'm talking about it. And, you know, being an introvert with a lot of festivity and a lot of people around, at some point during the day I will sneak away for a few minutes somewhere and just, you know, kind of breathe and then it just kind of bubbles up and I can…I can feel that, that kind of melancholy, that kind of, “what is missing from an otherwise perfect day that would make me feel this way? What am I missing? What is it that I can't name? What is it that I can't find that’s causing this?” And I don't think I'm alone. I’ve talked to a lot of people in my life. I don’t think I’m alone. I think more of us than not experience this at some point during this season. And over the years, I've even taken that, the questioned God, “what is this? Like, what am I missing? I am tuned in. Like, I am so thankful and so grateful that you would come and rescue I…I can't even believe the story that I'm celebrating today because it changes everything in the world. And, so, I am rejoicing and it is joy to the world and I am happy and what is going on here? And I’ve even…even read the stories from Revelation, read this passage of Scripture on Christmas day and thought, “man…what is going on here because this just kinda feeds into it.” But I've realized, at least with this particular portion of Scripture over the years, something…something pretty important for us to remember and maybe even some words to touch the empty place inside that…that many of us feel at some point today. Yesterday in Revelation we were standing in a very, very interesting place that's very hard to imagine. We were standing on the shores of sea of glass on fire and next to that sea were the remaining brothers and sisters who had endured until the end and God had given them harps and they were singing a song of worship, an ancient song of Moses, but also the fact that this is a prophetic vision and this is in the future. So, we’re like standing there with our brothers and sisters who endured until the end watching them worship God. And, so, we turn the page and we get to today and there is these bowls of God's wrath being poured out upon the earth, and it just seems completely merciless because it pretty much is because what we’re seeing today is our little baby Jesus, born helpless, lying in a manger. We’re seeing him all grown up. And what’s happening in the book of Revelation today isn't just God being mad and foretelling some kind of judgment with the invitation to return to Him. Everyone that is going to return to Him has. What we’re seeing today is a merciless outpouring of God's wrath upon evil itself. Unfortunately, as the story goes, there are people that are swept up into that and those are the ones who refused…refused in the face of utter destruction to turn to God and live. But nevertheless this is an all out attack by the God of Angel armies, the Savior, on evil on the things that have been destroying the planet and destroying the people. And isn’t that what we’re praying for when we pray come Lord Jesus? Isn't that what we’re asking for when we ask God to make all things new again? Isn't this our hope, that one day evil itself will be eradicated and annihilated from existence? Wow. That is a Christmas story because Christmas carried the story of God's redemptive power and plan forward. So, for me, as I've snuck away to have private moments on Christmas and just kind of sit with the feeling that something's missing, or something's not right I’ve thought to myself, that's…that's how it is. Like what I’m feeling is deep, I can't name it because it's cheaper than my words. It's my soul, longing to be restored. It is my soul longing for things to be as they are supposed to be. When we read this passage in Revelation, we have a prophetic vision that God fully intends to restore all things. But in order for that to happen the deception that has been deceiving the human race since the Garden of Eden must be eradicated and annihilated. Before all things become new all things that are old need to pass away. And what a metaphor for us on this day. What a metaphor for us as we move into the final week of the year. The old has to pass away for the new to come. And even in our own lives when we face struggles we might fight so hard just to return to the status quo when God may be inserting obstacles in our way that are intended to rid us of the old so that the new can come, so that this longing that just never really goes away inside of us, this longing for restoration so that it can actually happen.

So, I'm not sure how festive the Christmas message this is for me to give to you today. I am quite certain there is no shortage of wonderful, magnificent Christmas retellings and Christmas messages for today. This is just what Christmas kind of shapes up like for me and I know I'm not alone. And if you feel that and maybe you experience it is loneliness or maybe, you know, you experience it as an any number of disruptive emotions. But probably if you sit with that, maybe loneliness would be the thing because maybe your alone today or maybe that…maybe somebody's missing…like my mom…and my mom is missing from the world and I hate that at this time of year, that my father is gone from this world, I hate that at this time of year. So, it's easy for us like to identify like a loneliness or loss or grief or any of these things, but I believe that if we actually can get still for a few minutes that what this boils down to is a deep ancient longing. We are groaning along with all of creation for restoration, and it is so good. It is so good to find that place because Christmas represents the fact that we are headed in that direction if we are in Christ

Prayer:

And, so, I pray a blessed Christmas over You. Holy Spirit we invite You. We realize that there is no where we can go from Your presence. And, so, You are in and among us as a community all over the world. As we celebrate Your arrival, You're coming for us and we invite Your Holy Spirit into these places that…that feel out of…out of sync with the holiday. We invite You into those places of deep longing and we ask that You whisper into our souls, the truth that all things are being made new, that we are going somewhere and that that somewhere is good. And we thank You Jesus, for coming for us and modeling life for us. And we ask as the spirit of Christmas, as all of these festivities are at their height today, that we embrace them fully, that we drink deeply…deeply of joy today. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Merry Christmas everyone. I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Song:

Joy to the World

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wonderfreakingwoman · 6 years ago

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So this is my @wondertrevnet secret Santa gift for @let-zygons-be-bygones. I hope you had an amazing Christmas/holiday, and wishing you a very happy and healthy 2019!

18:03. The last work email has been sent and the holidays can officially begin.

She packs away her laptop, puts her coat on, and turns the lights off in her office for the last time this year. The keys rattle against each other as she locks up, and the undisturbed sound of her heels hitting the marble floor as she makes her way through the tall hallway is an indication that she is one of the last to leave the museum.

The warm glow from the Louvre welcomes her as she steps out into the cold Parisian air. Traffic is normal for the city, but it’s quiet out. The courtyard is without crowds of tourists, with the exception of the occasional passer-by, and it’s not until she rounds the corner onto a main street that she begins to pass the last-minute shoppers and those heading home for the night.

Before she joins the rush-hour crowd, she makes her way to one of her favourite patisseries. Each couple she spots makes her walk that little bit faster, reminding her of what waits for her at home.

She picks up a box of macarons and a raspberry tartelette from the owner’s daughter who always makes sure to leave one aside for her every Friday. She asks how the girl’s mother and sister are doing, and how her course is going, quickly learning about a class Christmas party that’s happening in one of the local bars tonight to celebrate the end of her exams.

“And is the Paul I hear so much about going to be there?”

“Incroyable,” she hears the girl swear under her breath as a small blush covers her cheeks, “my mother and her loose lips.” They both laugh.

“She means well.”

“I know. She keeps asking me when she’ll get to meet him, as if we’re together or something,” she tells her as she rings her up on the till. “Although, he’s not the only man she keeps asking about.”

“Oh?”

“She’s starting to miss that charming Captain of yours. Told me to stop selling you his favourite dessert so that he’d have to come in himself to get it.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.” She can’t help but laugh at the idea.

They say goodnight and it’s not long before she’s stepping into the elevator to the apartment with the bag of delicious pastries in hand.

As she clears the entrance to her- their- apartment, she has to remind herself, her eyes find him in the kitchen, his back to her as he wipes his fingers on the towel hanging over his shoulder. He mustn’t have heard her come in over the music playing through the speakers, and it makes her smile at the image of him humming along as he prepared dinner for them, taking a sip of red while he worked.

“Smells delicious in here.” She says as she walks to the open kitchen, setting the desserts from the bakery on the counter and greets him with a kiss.

“Let’s hope it tastes just as good.”

Ever since their trip to Italy towards the end of summer he’s been trying to recreate their favourite meals, and by the looks of it it’s one of his tonight, the fettuccine al pomodoro. The only reason she knows that’s it is because he near damn fell in love with it when they did a cooking class in Bologna and ordered it two nights in a row afterwards.

He grabs her a wine glass from the cabinet and pours her one to join him, handing it to her.

“Thank you.” She lifts the glass to her lips and takes a sip.

“May I?” she asks, grabbing a hold of the spoon with her free hand to taste the tomato sauce simmering in the pot. She must admit that she took quite the liking to pasta herself after travelling the country, and at this stage he’s done an impressive job at making the recipes from scratch.

She turns around to ask him if any of the league members had gotten back to him about getting together over the holidays when she finds him holding the tart and a bite taken out of it.

“Mmmm,” he moans around a mouthful of raspberry and filling.

“How you can eat that before dinner, I’ll never understand.”

“There’s fruit on it. Think of it as an appetiser.” He takes another giant bite, practically devouring the tart.

She sets her wine glass down on the kitchen counter next to her, smiling at the small mess left on his face and steps closer to him. “That’s not how it works.”

He wraps an arm around her waist as she does, “People have fruit salads sometimes before dinner. Who’s to say these things aren’t just a fancier, more delicious version of that.” He says as she gently wipes away the bit of powdered sugar on his nose and cheek with her thumb.

“Nice try.” She kisses the corner of his mouth, getting a taste of the sweet cream filling and a hint of raspberry. He wasn’t wrong about it tasting delicious.

He quickly chases her lips before she pulls away, kissing her twice before he straightens, a small smile on his face as his eyes meet hers. “I don’t think I’d forgive myself if I ate two desserts after dinner, so by spreading it out it doesn’t feel so bad.”

“Bold of you to assume I was going to share.”

“I’m sure I could convince you somehow.” He wiggles his hips against hers playfully when he sees her begin to smile at him.

He was right in saying that she couldn’t say no to him. After dinner they moved over to the couch, setting their glasses on the small table in front of them and the box of macarons between them. They half-paid attention to whatever was on tv as they nibbled on the pastries, talking about making plans to return to the States to celebrate Arthur’s birthday at the end of January, and an upcoming fundraising ball for her work in Paris before that, to less extravagant things like what they were going to do tomorrow.

As they’re cleaning up their small mess, readying to call it a night, the empty macaron box reminds her to tell Steve what the baker’s daughter had said to her earlier on her way home.

“I found out I have some competition this evening.” She lifts her brow as her eyes light up with humour, the corners of her mouth beginning to turn up when she meets his gaze.

“Oh really? What for?”

“Mrs Barteau’s daughter, Pauline, told me she’s not allowed to sell me anymore tarts until they see you in the flesh. Seems her mother misses a certain charming American.” She tells him as she walks over to the bin, the sound of his laughter loud enough to be heard across the room.

“Maybe I need to start going someplace else,” her head tilts to the side, smiling at him as she turns back and leans against the edge of the counter to wait for him.

“Maybe.”

She watches his free hand scratch at the stubble along his jawline as he walks over, while the other holds the two empty glasses. She likes the scruff on him, missed it on him. It suits him well. He’s been talking about growing it out, so it’ll be interesting to see what that feels like when he’s-.

“Call me crazy but I don’t think Amandine’s sudden interest in art restoration is to impress me.”

He’s caught Pauline’s older sister throwing in an extra few macarons for Diana whenever they’ve stopped by the shop, or the quick up and down glances when she thinks no one’s watching. He’s pretty confident Diana knows this, but he can’t be sure since she doesn’t act any different towards her than that of her sister.

“I’ve no idea what you’re referring to.” She tries to act indifferent, but her eyes give her away. He doesn’t need to borrow the lasso of Hestia to know she’s lying. She knows exactly what he means, and that makes him smile even more.

Neither say anything more about the matter, but left feeling awake from the light-heartedness of their conversation. She watches him quickly rinse the glasses in the sink across from her, how the muscles in his back move through the thin shirt material as he works.

It amazes her how often her mind wanders to him. She thinks about him when she’s at work, particularly when those meetings go on far longer than they should. She thinks about him at night when she can’t get to sleep, when the bed feels too big because he’s had to go away for work and the smell of him surrounds her when she wears one of his shirts. But it’s not just when they’re separated. He could be doing the most mundane thing in the world and she’d find herself thinking about all the different ways she loves this man.

Two days ago, they were brushing their teeth, his hair was wild from sleep, making him look almost boyish in his navy blue plaid pyjama pants and white t-shirt. It wasn’t hard to imagine what Steve was like a child once upon a time.

Before that she found him asleep on the couch with a book in his lap, his head resting on the top of the couch cushion. He had tried waiting up for her that night when the world called for Wonder Woman’s help, and when she returned she found the tv on one of the news stations, muted.

“Let’s go to bed, Love.” She whispered as she leaned over him from behind the couch, pushing his hair back from his face as he woke.

Before she could straighten, he pulled her down to him so he could press his lips against hers quickly, “Glad you’re home.”

“Me too.”

She pushes herself away from the kitchen counter, suddenly wanting to be close to him.

“Thank you for dinner, by the way. You’re too good to me.”

When he turns, she raises her hand to his cheek, the facial hair tickling her skin as she follows the strong line of his jaw with her fingers, just as he had moments ago. She feels his hand on her waist, his thumb playing with the bit of exposed skin on the same side her arm lifted.

“It’s my pleasure.” He says as he tucks a strand of hair that had escaped her loose bun behind her ear.

“Tomorrow, I want to cook for you. I’m also thinking we sleep-in in the morning.” It’s been a while since they’ve spent the day in bed, and she knows it’s one of his favourite things to do. He tries his best to convince her to stay a little longer every morning before work, but she rarely gives in, and because she wakes so early it doesn’t take much negotiating before he’s hugging her pillow to his chest and falling back asleep.

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

“I don’t doubt you will.”

A moment passes, and he glances at her lips. Before she knows what’s happening she can feel his hands slide down behind her legs through her leather pants and is she’s being lifted.

“Come on, let’s get to bed.” He tells her as he heads in the direction of their bedroom, and she can feel his breath on her neck from the sudden closeness. His stubble tickles her skin when he places a trail of kisses along the side of her neck, and it instantly reminds her of the other night.

He trailed his mouth down her chest, kissing every inch of skin as his hands roamed her body. He soon continued the same attention along her navel, over her hip, until his mouth is closing around her, working her up slowly and deliberately until she’s clutching the sheets and her body is arching off the mattress. The insides of her thighs were left feeling slightly sensitive the following morning but it was so damn worth it.

Desire licks her blood, warmth instantly spreading throughout her body at the memory. She trails a hand up through the ends of his hair at the base of his neck, unable to resist touching him more, and shifts against him to hug his waist with her legs for better leverage.

“Steve,” she says, her voice sounding low and breathless when his teeth graze over her pulse point and sucks on her skin.

She turns her face in search of his mouth and he kisses her. Her lips part against his and Steve wastes no time in deepening the kiss.

He pushes her back against the wall in the hallway that leads to their room, pausing momentarily to adjust his grip as he sets her down near the edge of the wooden table, and she can’t help but gasp against his mouth. She feels his hips push into her, and she digs her fingers into his shoulders.

The table could work, but maybe for another time, she thinks. Right now she wants to feel every inch of him against her.

“Bed,” she breathes against his mouth, and he immediately bends slightly to slide his hands back down her thighs and picks her up, wrapping her long legs around his waist once again.

Once they’re in their room, he lays her gently on the mattress and continues to kiss her. His hands slide underneath her jumper, caressing the soft skin until he makes his way around her sides, and up her back where he unclasps her bra. While he does that, she begins to work on his belt’s buckle and pulls it from around his waist where it eventually ends up on the floor.

He wants to take his time with her, to love her. For the next two weeks they will not be disturbed, they have no real obligations for the next few days, and the thought of having her all to himself reminds him to slow down.

Their kisses become less hungry and more tender, their touches turn softer and slower. Time is on their side, and unlike the first night they shared in Veld, they have plenty of it.

For one night, they could only enjoy the snow and each other before the war reared its ugly head at them and destroyed everything in its path. Now, a century later, they have everything to look forward to and can hide from the world as they get lost in each other.

#wondertrevsecretsanta #wondertrev #fanfiction #wtss18

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yukithesnowman314 · 6 years ago

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“Be your true mind.” -Revelations: Persona Japanese tagline.

Starring into the screen of the gaming P.C. I brought off my friend during the 2018 Holiday season, I noticed that there was something missing: A wallpaper – a good one. I was using fanart of Yugiri from Zombieland Saga as a placeholder until I could find wallpaper that I wouldn’t mind always seeing. Don’t get me wrong: Zombieland Saga is an awesome anime and Yugiri is best undead girl, but I needed something better. A wallpaper to serve as a reminder to do whatever the fuck I want to do throughout the year 2019

I hooked up an old external hard drive containing over ten years’ worth of anime and manga fanart, screenshots, manga panels, and memes; most of them were perfect to use as wallpaper, but I desire one that would be my mantra for 2019. As I browsed through the drive, there was a certain image with a manga panel snapshot that spoke to my soul. It was of Kyoko from Puella Magi Madoka Magica with a pocky stick in her mouth offering a box full of them to somebody off-screen. As she chew on the snack, she says the following:

“Who cares what anyone else thinks? It’s your life – do whatever you want to do. That’s the right way to live.”

There was no hesitation. Instantly, that became my wallpaper; vowing to never change it until January 1st, 2020. Throughout my life (until I got into my 20s), I was concern about what others thought about me. Wanting to not offend my friends, family members, and bosses (surprising, right?); I followed their suggestions, putting my own thoughts to the side.

I believed that if I put myself first, it would paint me as a hard-headed selfish asshole. I should had been an asshole.

“To be quiet and do as you’re told, that’s the cowardly choice.”

-Gearless Joe, Megalo Box

Go to church because the rest of the family were going; despite the fact I’m secretly don’t follow religion. Enroll in a community college my parents wanted me to go; regardless if I wanted to go to one outside the Midwest (my home region). Hang out with friends even though I actually wanted to stay and relax at home. Go into work on my off day when I knew I wanted to tell my boss to fuck off.

Deep within my soul, my “easy-going” public persona was clashing with my true feelings. I truly didn’t want to do what people told me to do, but I didn’t have the balls to admit it.

This went on until I turned 23.

I dropped out of college. Smartest move of my life. I stopped going to church. I don’t need Jesus to be a good person. I ignored my boss’s phone calls for me to come into work. He got the point soon after. I cut off friends who didn’t respect the fact I didn’t feel like hanging out with them when I was tired. They were fake friends – I didn’t need them around.

It was liberating.

Soon after I selected the image of Kyoko as my wallpaper, I got a reminder from My Anime List that Mob Pyscho 100 Season 2 was starting soon. Fitting. Mob (the hero of the Mob Pyscho 100 series) is a kid who decided to follow his own path in life; as opposed to listen to others people’s suggestions for his life. For example: when the supernatural club at his school tried to get him to join (because of his psychic powers), he rejected their offer. He joined the athletic club instead to build muscle.

The anime is one of the ultimate showcases of being your true self. But, Mob may have appeared to have forgotten about this.

Wanting to impress his crush Tsubomi, Ichi (who catches Mob sneaking a peek at Tsubomi) comes up with a plan for Mob to court her attention: Have him run for the recently vacant student council president position (it was a ploy for Ichi to have Mob gain popularity so she could have him as the new leader of the recently dismantled (LOL) cult). She even went as far as writing a speech for Mob, in her own words. Despite not caring for school politics and social structure, Mob agrees to Ichi’s self-centered plot – reluctantly.

And by reluctantly, I mean that Mob completely froze during his speech. On stage. In front of the entire student body – his crush in the crowd included.

It’s goofy that a guy like Mob, who was always dead set on doing his own thing, decided to follow the path of another person. Sure, it was to impress his crush, but the plot wasn’t from his own driven nature and ideas. Despite the public embarrassment, Mob “won” the heart of a female classmate: Emi. She was “impressed” by his courage to stand on stage in front of the school, which spurred her into confessing her “feelings” to him. The two started dating soon after.

Obviously, their relationship is rooted in compete bullshit.

Emi

When Emi asks what type of work he does, Mob is about to tell her about his supernatural works and adventures but feared that she’d be creep out. He comes up with a bold-face lie; claiming he works for a bookstore. This excites Emi as she’s an active and avid reader and is writing her own novel. She even offers Mob to read it, which he agrees to.

Later on, as Mob reads Emi’s novel, she confronts him. She asks why he still walks her home from school after he rejected her. Furthermore, she reveals that she knew Mob was going back to his club after he had walked her back home; thinking that Mob was afraid that he would upset her if he stop.

She also makes the connection that Mob only ran for class president because somebody told him to do it, since it was clear that he didn’t write his own speech. Then she bluntly asks if he has trouble making up his own mind and following his own feelings, which Mob confirms.

Finally, she reveals a secret about herself: She too struggles with being her own person – like Mob himself. She only asked Mob out on a dare and was pressured by her “friends” to do so (based on Mob’s pitiful performance during the elections). She was scared of being rejected and seen as a laughing stock by her “friends”, so she followed through with their cruel prank.

They agree to end their “relationship and part ways soon after – only to meet up again.

The “friends” Emi worked hard to impress and not offend? They weren’t truly her friends.

Emi regroups with her friends after receiving a text message from them. She decides to show her “friends” the novel that she was working on. One girl snatches it from her hands and started to laugh and belittle her work along with the rest. Another girl, while trying to hold in her laughter, ask Emi if she was being serious about it. Emi (clearly upset and defensive), gives off a weak chuckle and replies she was only doing it for fun. The girls starts to laugh cruelly as they destroy her novel.

Emi became the thing she feared the most: a laughing stock among her friends. Not because she didn’t “date” Mob, but because she had a passion for writing. If they were truly her friends, not only would they not pressured her into dating Mob (something she never wanted to do), they would have encouraged her to keep writing.

As Mob walks back home, he sees the girls destroying Emi’s novel. He confronts them, telling them how wrong they were to do that to her and her hard work. He starts collecting the pieces off the ground. Confused, yet feeling appreciated, Emi helps Mob out and her fake friends leave the duo to be. The two try their best to recover the novel but the reminding pieces are blown into the wind. Emi gets discourage and decides that they should call the novel a total lost.

At this point, Mob decides to be honest with Emi (as she did with him) and reveal his true self: The fact that he’s a gifted esper. He uses his powers to completely restore the torn novel; which impresses Emi (as well as Tsubomi – who was watching the events from afar). Perhaps it was because that Emi was honest with Mob about her feelings, fears, and insecurities that led Mob into helping her. Maybe Mob was happy that he knew somebody who too was scared to be their true self and wanted to help them.

Regardless, at the end of the episode, both Mob and Emi was able to embrace who they truly are without fear.

***

I believe there’s a lesson to be learned from the first episode of season two of Mob Pyscho 100 2.

The lesson? Put yourself first, be honest with who you are, and never fear about what others may think about you. Once you can do all that, you have truly become free. People may call you selfish or self-centered for being you, but in reality, humans are selfish by nature. Some humans are braver with their selfish nature than others. If somebody complains about your egocentric nature , don’t take it personal. They more than likely are projecting their anger of not having the courage to be selfish.

Right now, there are people who are completely unhappy with their lives. Why? Because they were controlled into following somebody else’s path. They never had the courage to stray off the path that wasn’t design for them. There are doctors, lawyers, and dentists in those positions who are completely miserable because they decided to listen to their parents’ wishes. They feared to bring “shame” to their family and enter a career field they hate. If only they would have follow their heart instead, perhaps they wouldn’t be miserable.

Remember this: You have the freedom to be your own person. It’s your life. Who cares if anyone gets upset?

“Your life is your own, ok? It’s OK to run away! If you’re capable of it, it won’t be a mistake.” -The Mob Choir

“Who cares what anyone else thinks? It’s your life – do whatever you want to do. That’s the right way to live.” -Kyoko, Puella Magi Madoka Magica “Be your true mind.” -Revelations: Persona Japanese tagline. Starring into the screen of the gaming P.C. I brought off my friend during the 2018 Holiday season, I noticed that there was something missing: A wallpaper – a good one.

#2019 anime #anime #manga #mob pyscho 100 #Mob Pyscho 100 S2 #Mob Pyscho 100 Season 2 #Pyscho Mob 100 #winter 2019 anime

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ourcollectivefantasy · 6 years ago

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Resignation: A Love Story

((I’m sorry this is so late, it takes place back in August when the stuff in Darkshore and Teldrassil happened!))

I should be in on the front, in Darkshore. Or, rather, if I were were still an officer of the Silvermoon military, I should be at the front, in Darkshore. As of yesterday, when I resigned my commission, I am no longer an officer or any other rank. My earlier misgivings about the Warchief's plans became reality when I saw the orange glow of Teldrassil burning in the distance like a second sunset from where I stood at the camp infirmary. They were similar to the misgivings I had since we've started mining the blood of our bleeding planet immediately after destroying the titanic enemy that has loomed over this world and all races of elves for over 10,000 years. As soon as we stepped off the broken planet of Argus, and the Warchief 's response was to weaponize the injury to our world against the Alliance we had just finished fighting alongside, I knew this would end in tears. There was a small hope that, maybe, Sylvanas would tread a different path than her predecessors, but that hope died along with countless kaldorei citizens. In a way, I suppose it was the logical progression for the Banshee Queen; she has displayed complete apathy for the living since the destruction of Southshore. Why would she suddenly spare a thought for any other living thing, be it our planet or unarmed civilians.

There were a hundred thoughts swimming through my brain, and those thoughts kept me quiet as I stepped out of the castle's double doors and walked towards the carriage house. It was a lovely day; one nice thing about living on the shoreline cliffs of Western Tirisfal was that, even during the hottest part of summer, it was never unbearably hot and the wind was constant. In a moment of nostalgia I recalled how the wind used to screech and wail through the castle hallways before Iloam and I repaired the ruined stone structure and patched the holes in walls and windows. He gifted this castle to me, and for years it was our project - rebuilding and restoring the seaside ruins into something more like a home. Now, it was definitely a home to me, and to my children. I also hoped it was a home to Iloam, but my Prince of Flaws is a traveller to his bones. Home for him will always be people more than places. If there was any part of the castle in particular that Iloam would claim as his home it would be the garage. The doors to the old carriage house were wide open, allowing Iloam’s music to escape and catch on the ocean breeze that also cooled the inside. Walking up to the doorway, I rapped my knuckles on the wood so he heard my approach and could ask me to leave if he was so inclined. That is how you give someone a place of their own; you respect their space and abide by their authority in that space. I like to think he appreciated the small show of respect; indeed, even as I lifted my hand to knock Iloam lifted his head from his motorbike to look towards me and offer a faint smile of greeting. I felt an answering smile tease my lips as I made my way inside towards speakers and amps against one wall. Carefully I climbed up atop one nearest to his workspace and made myself comfortable sitting with criss-crossed legs as the treble and bass of the music thrummed rhythmically under my backside. It brought on a small grin, and I wiggled idly in place, appreciating Iloam setting it up there for me to sit on and enjoy while I came to hang out with him. He knew how I liked the feel of the vibrations on my butt. It was just one of a million little things Iloam did to show me his love. From there I simply sat in my own silence, my gaze following Iloam as he returned to his tinkering. Music filled the empty space more comfortably than idle chatter would. Once I used to feel an almost desperate need to fill that silence with words. For the first couple years of our relationship I had hundreds of questions for him, gently and carefully probing and uncovering him little by little; not just for conversation, but also to still the doubts and anxieties that would threaten to drown me when it grew too quiet. He is not the kind of person who opens up or trusts easily, but neither of us are, really. However, I did enjoy learning about him, and all that same time he too was watching and listening. And now, 8 years later, although I still freely chattered Iloam's ear off often enough, I was quite content with our comfortable silence and just being close to him. Truthfully, I enjoyed just being silent and close to him more that I enjoyed talking and doing anything with anyone else. It was a soothing atmosphere to let my thoughts sink back into current events with the war, the slaughtered of Teldrassil, and my resignation. The music vibrated through me as I thought back to the march through those ancient forests. Rank and privaledge allowed me the option to leave the military at all; many did not have that choice. They would have to continue fighting this Warchief's battles as they have through the years, no matter who that Warchief was. There was a time I was eager to face the Alliance and fight against them. Just a couple years ago really, though it seems ages ago, when my fury over the treatment of our people at the hands of the humans - coupled with thier easy acceptance of the kaldorei who once exiled us - drove me to turn my hand against the enemies of the Horde. Then, Theramore happened. For the past few days I've been trying to avoid thinking of Theramore, but now my mind shifted fully to it. We'd been fighting in the muggy swamp for weeks, and I was at the edge of Dustwallow when I watched the horrifying dome of the mana bomb grow and consume the city. I knew exactly what it was; I'd been to the Outlands and seen while Kael'thas went mad and attacked so many settlements with that same power. I knew then who had facilitated the destruction of Theramore - Hellscream may have ordered it, but sin'dorei gave him the weapon to do so. The realization filled me with terrible guilt and helpless rage at the position we'd put ourselves. No matter how angry I had been with the Alliance, our grievances did not warrent THIS response. Then, I had lingered in despair for days, and Iloam gave me those few days as space before taking me away for a short holiday to Nagrand. We slept outside and watched the stars and worlds move across the sky, and he held me and quietly comforted me. Iloam didn't naturally empathize with people, and he usually didn't really get why people felt one way or another. But he knew I was in pain, and he immediately decided upon a plan of action to address it. He didn’t get why I cared, I why I despaired, but still he held me as I cried and murmured comforting words to bring my thoughts from drowning in that deep lake of grief. When that happened, I had been close to leaving the Horde army. I ended up staying because I felt our people needed to redeem ourselves. So I was eager to fight alongside Silvermoon forces when we finally rose up against Hellscream and the Korkron. As we defeated them, I felt better about fighting for the Horde, especially when the Legion finally came. There was an enemy that threatened all of life on Azeroth, whether Horde, Alliance, or others. It was the first war since Northrend against the Scourge where I felt our cause was right, and I eagerly coordinated House Akh’Argar's forces and Jericho with the greater Horde army. And then... when the Horde army invaded Darkshore, I was called upon as I've been called for every battle the Horde fights since the Sin'dorei joined it. So many lives lost against the Burning Legion, so many homes destroyed from when thier ships attacked, and instead of healing and rebuilding, we were again being called to war? And not even meaningful war, but an attack on Alliance lands as if we hadn't spent the last year and a half fighting and bleeding at thier sides. I knew the Dark Lady maintained her own grievances against some Alliance leaders, and many of them still blamed us for the death of thier King, but this sudden agression seemed absolute folly. I know my House’s soldiers were exhausted from the war against the Legion. I would not be calling them to fight in these battles in Kalimdor. They would be sent to keep watch on the borders of Quel'thalas for when the Alliance gathered thier completely understandable retaliation. But I was a Silvermoon Officer, and when the Horde armies called, I was duty bound to obey. But even then... I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to see another Theramore. And now Teldrassil burned, and I resigned. What would the nobility of Silvermoon think of me now? What would they think of my House? That was the thing that weighed on me the most. What have my actions done to the reputation of Akh'Argar? Would my own soldiers, the people of my House, have any respect for me now? Or would they see me as a dishonorable coward for leaving just as things began to get really messy on the front. A deep sigh escaped me, lost in the thrum of the bass mechguitar playing through the speakers. My eyes returned to the present, and the sweaty, freckled shoulders hunched and flexing as eight nimble fingers worked at the dirty bike engine. I had no idea what Iloam was doing, what tiny adjustment was required for the machine. As a surgeon, I generally don't futz with things until they actually break, and then I fixed them with the hope of that fix being permanent. I'd learned that tinkering is not exactly the same; sure there were broken things you fixed, but there seemed to be continual adjustments and improvements that you could impliment if you were so inclined. And seeing as Iloam had about four bikes, he had a lot to work with. There was something about being able to observe Iloam like this. He enjoyed having me there with him too, even if we didn't speak or touch. His back was turned on me almost completely, and that was a huge thing in and of itself. Although his own thoughts wandered elsewhere, he was comfortable enough to have his back on me - no, not just comfortable. More than comfortable. He trusted me to watch his back. Another tiny thing; another huge expression of intense love. When I burst into his office at Blacksong Records and announced I was quitting the military, his only response was "Alright." He didn’t ask why, he didn't look at me like a coward ot traitor, he just instantly respected my decision with no change in his regard for me. Today he still was willing to let me watch his back. I thought back to the day he tried to "distract" me when I was still so distant and melancholy weeks after Theramore fell. I was fully overcome with worry and grief, so Iloam decided a fun way to entertain me would be to play hide and seek somewhere in the Azeroth. The twist was that he'd drunk some kind of poison so there was a time limit: I would have to find him before he died. I was so furious with him. After I found him and treated him, I brought him back here to the castle, back before it was fully restored, with the intention of carving my rage into his flesh so he would never again doubt his importance to me. However, Iloam managed to stop me before I even started when he insisted he was never in any real danger, because he had faith in me, that I would find him. It was such a shocking claim, from him of all people, that he believed in me - Iloam, who learned long ago never to believe in anyone. That very thing stayed constantly on my mind, that no matter what was going on, Iloam believed in me and had faith in us. He backed those words up time and again with his actions, with the way he fought his own inclinations and tried in so many ways, large and small, on the basis of that belief. No matter what society and nobility thought of me, no matter what my own House thought, Iloam would always stand with me. He wouldn't disparage me or doubt me. He had faith in me, in us. It was enough - it was everything. As the current song ended and the next song began with its bassy opener, I slid off the amp and walked over to my Prince of Flaws at his sweaty, grungy work. He heard and felt my movement, and paused hid own, one long ear quirked up as he listened for my approach. I leaned down to press my lips against his sweaty, freckled shoulder, and leaned in to speak in his ear so he would hear over the music, "I love you. Thank you for always believing in me." Then I nipped his earlobe a bit. You know. Just because.

#rp blog #love #iloam x aelberyn #darkshore #horde army

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black-halla · 7 years ago

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EVGENIA MEDVEDEVA: I cried because something I worked for all my life has happen

some highlights from an interview for Russian magazine (march’18)

Why you did not compete in Milano?

I had no choice. Doctors urged to take at least month’s rest and restore the health. Because of injury I missed a lot of important events, but I knew that I will compete in Korea, even I’ve been absolutely broken.

And you came back from Korea with two silver medals!

Actually, there are three medals already. Last week fans gave me golden ‘olympic’ medal. It is less small than original ones but looks pretty similar. Instead of Olympic rings there are five hearts on it. It is a real piece of jewelry made of silver and covered by gold. It was a very pleasant surprise. I was at home when I had a call; someone asked me to go downstairs, out back. When I did, I saw nearly 50 fans of various ages, from 14 to 40.

There was a granny that came out of the front door with me. She worried seeing so many people near our house. She tried to fight them off, but I said that they came to me, and she immediately calmed down. When fans gave me that medal I couldn’t resist crying. It’s very hard to make me cry, to be honest, I have no habit to show my tears in public. Once I watched Hatiko with my best friend, Katya Bobrova [Russian ice dancer]. She really cried her eyes out, but I stayed calm. Yes, it’s a movie, the dog waited for his owner and she never did – so what?

But on Olympics you cried after free skate. Were you so upset?

No, not at all! I cried because something I worked for all my live has happen. My dream came true - I skated on Olympic Games. When I was nearly 8, I started think about it and count years like “well, I can’t go in Sochi because of age. So, I should be on the next ones.” For many years since I’ve been a little girl I imagined how it feels to perform on Olympics. I quaked from excitement just imagining it. But in Korea, I wasn’t worried during competition, I skated for pleasure. Emotions came at the very end. It wasn’t because of the 2nd place. Let’s imagine I won the gold, so what’s next? In 18 years old I’d have everything skater could wish to win. Now I have a clear purpose and incentive to continue competing until the next Games, pleasing my fans.

It's good to have a mom near to you. She’d been supporting you, is it? Did you live with you mother in Korea?

No, I saw mom just once, it seems. I was practicing for gala. I lived with Katya Bobrova, we always try to accomodate together on competitions. I don’t have many close friends, but I consider her my sister.

Wait, why 2-time world champion can’t request a separate room? And why don’t have Evgenia Medvedeva a private hour on rink?

It is okay everywhere when athletes live in one room. What's the problem? At least, we are the team. No one drives us on the luxury cars, we don’t fly business class. To Korea we flied economy class, as always. We had there the Space+ where we could stretch our legs. It wasn’t comfortable for me, I prefer to find a free place in the very end of a salon and lie down on the 3 seats at once. Turning to rink: I train with my group in our normal training regime. Sometimes we have dangerous situations, when you’re flying on ice on the big speed, doing elements and someone is staying on your way without noticing you. For that case we have a special word “UP!” When you’re realizing that he or she just can’t see you and you can have a terrible crash, you’re starting to scream “Up! Go away or it’ll be very bad!”. This is not uncommon to get bad injuries on practice rink.

So, Evgenia, you’re a girl that had no normal childhood?

And here it is, the most common misconception about athletes! I had a wonderful childhood. I played ball, catch-up, hide-and-seek with my friends as all kids do – but we did it in gym, not in the court of school. I had much more competitive and traveling experience, that’s true. In 8, I already had visited many different towns and cities of Russia and in 14 I had my first competition abroad. It was in Riga [Latvia], my first Junior GP event.This was very cool! I and Maria Sotskova were in the foreign country for first time. We lived with Masha in one room and consistently messed around on the playground in front of hotel.

Is it hard to resist café and pastry shops when you’re abroad, is t? Do you need to limit candy yourself? Maybe you can allow yourself a little cake at your birthday?

You know, I don’t like to celebrate my birthday. Heart just isn’t in it. Because it’ll come next day, and I’ll be already 19, not 18. What should I celebrate in this case? My favorite holiday is a New Year [In Russia, New Year is much more popular than Christmas]. And I never liked cakes and cupcakes. This is not delicious for me. But I’m always a sucker for a chocolate and marmalade. Now I’m trying to eat more dark chocolate instead of milk chocolate, because it’s healthier though more nutritious.

In other hand, every performance of yours seems to be a birthday for you: you receive many gifts and flowers. Do you take everything home?

I often bring flowers home. I love when all my room is in flowers. Mom and grand-mother, to be honest, shut the door to their rooms to avoid a strong flavor, but I adore it. And the most part of plush toys I donate to orphanages and hospitals. I love that I, mom, and grand-mother are very practical in that regard. We’re always trying not to spend the money without a reason, and we don’t do surprises to each other, like, never. What for, if you always can ask directly “What do you want?” instead of bringing home useless stuff? For example, before the New Year I asked mom and she said that she needs a wallet. We came to the mall and choose a wallet together, packed it in wrapping paper, and then I just offered her this wallet for New Year. Mom acted like she was very surprised: “Wow, this is exactly that I wanted!” And before Olympics I ordered for myself a little ring with a brilliant, as a gift. I choose the frame and the stone by myself, and mom then offered it to me. I wear only real jewelry, not costume jewelry – it’s better to wear the same jewelry for a long time, main thing is that they are quality and well-made. For a 4 years I wear these rings and a little bracelet with a gold four-leaf clover. I sleep, I practice, I skate wearing them.

I know that your favorite actors are Benedict Cumberbatch and David Tennant. Did you thought to have a benefit from your popularity and ask someone to introduce you to them?

If I’ll perform in Great Britain, why not?

Recently you went to university for the specialization of trainer. You think to bind your life with sport forever?

I believe that someday I’ll pursue the second higher education in other field of activity. It’s too early to discuss. I have no Olympic gold yet, so I have a goal. A month for a rest and back on the rink, for practice. I hope I’ll jump a quad in 4 years. I fall on practice doing this so far, but people say that I fall beautifully. *laughs* via

Translator’s note: I heard rumors that Zhenya falls from well-rotated quad salchow :”) so good to know that she already tries it having a good feeling about this.

#evgenia medvedeva #interview #olympics #2018 #figure skating

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thedivinefish · 4 years ago

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TGIWednesday and a clearing for family members

TGIWednesday News

It was strange not being able to don the E Bunny costume that has become an annual tradition for me at our local neighborhood Easter party. Well hopefully when we reach “herd immunity!” It brought up longings and remembrances of my brother, father and now mother who are no longer here but in spirit and I feel their presence in one form or another every day! My brother tends to show up whenever I deal with a client who’s main challenge is addiction. My dad shows up whenever I make best efforts with a client who may be a little too adventurous/think daredevil cliff hanging/survival shows! And of course when I think about or see butterflies, something of beauty or merely when my girlfriend bakes cookies, I am reminded of the tenderness and unconditional love of my mom. There were times throughout the holy week when I felt sadness or loneliness which is not uncommon, but it has now washed past me and turned into a feeling of being grounded, safe and peaceful. We all experience ranges of emotions dealing with family members alive or in Spirit and so we’ll dedicate this month of TGIW newsletters to family.

Get excited because we’re putting the finishing touches on our next MyBeliefWorks addition to the catalog entitled Discovering Your Destiny and Fulfilling Your Life’s Purpose MP3/PDF. Most definitely one of the frequently asked questions and topics I hear from clients. This Audio MP3 could be a game-changer if you’re still uncertain of your ultimate destiny or life’s purpose. It was designed as a download from Spirit to create more confidence for you, take out any blocks preventing you from success and to reveal to you in a gentle yet profound way, what this incarnation could be all about!!! Look for it to come out soon!!

More good news - we are running a 20% OFF Discount ALL THIS MONTH on 2 special MyBeliefWorks Audios. Our Healing Family Relationships Audio MP3 as well as our Easing IRS Stress at Tax Time . Code SAVE20 - automatically shows up on Check Out page.

TGIWednesday Download

~ CLEARING FOR FAMILY MEMBERS ~ I believe, think, know and feel that as I pray for family members that I benefit as well. I am ready, willing and able to put any past family disagreements where they belong, in the past. I know, when, where, how and why to just let go and let God and allow my family members to be themselves. And instead of trying to change them, I am changing my attitude and how I look at them so that I can obtain and maintain more peace. I am asking in all languages and throughout all time lines and so it is.

Live Show Appearances

PRACTICAL MAGIC - Season 2 hosted by Michele Lee and Megan Camille Season Begins on Monday April 12th thru 19th My interview will air on TUESDAY APRIL 13th Many leading spiritual teachers, including myself, are featured on the Practical Magic Online Interactive Training Season 2! In season 2 we’re going deep into quantum physics, galactic beings, accelerated manifestation, spontaneous healing and The New Earth! I’m excited and honored to be featured once again. This is the place where woo-woo isn’t a hobby it’s a WAY OF LIFE! GET YOUR FREE TICKET HERE

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FREE TO REGISTER and Grab Your Gift ($67 Value) The incredible new Soul Spa 2.0™ and 741 Hz download which works to cleanse your aura and release toxic stress, worry and old anchors. My LIVE Interview is Thurs. MAY 13th & we'll be taking LIVE callers!

As you know by now, I will not be returning to our weekly Jimmy Mack Healing Radio show in 2021. We will of course be guest or co-hosting on other shows on occasion. So stay tuned to this section of TGIW as a variety of future show line ups will be posted!

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Monthly MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

Our next end of the month Zoom event will be on Wed. April 28th and this month's theme will be FAMILY Some say FAMILY is an acronym for F'd And Mainly Interested In Limiting You :) What was growing up like for you? Were Mom, Dad, Siblings horrible then and nice now or vice- versa? We’ll clear any family issues that may be limiting or blocking you. Browse the full catalog of past events here.

From the Fish Box

"I have been listening to Jimmy's last Wednesday's call each day. So tonight I got a bug in my bonnet and I decided to do some de-cluttering. So on one shelf I had this small Chinese wishing pot with a lid that I bought from a spiritual catalog. So I said, ya know, maybe I ought to toss it out since I have not bothered with it for maybe 20 years or more. Well it's a darn good thing I looked into it. I found short grain rice which is prosperity I think, but I found a bunch of coins I placed there, small papers with beautifully stated phrases and a hundred dollar bill & a twenty! Where the heck did that come from?? LOL" - Janet G.

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions The next opportunity to see Jimmy at Charla's Tampa office is: FRIDAY APRIL 30th from 10-4pm

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack APRIL 7th "Today I will let loose of all control. I will enter into an agreement with my Guides, Angels & God as I know it and ask for something different, unusual and exciting to show up. I will relinquish control and while remaining free, I will realize that what I had been searching for was there all along. Keep the faith and all things moving forward.. this is a part of life...you are not powerless, you are powerful, you are not frail, you are strong and you can access unlimited power."

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

Nightly prayers include COVID-19. Each night we work on scrambling the frequency for everyone on the prayer list. Your name will be added to a special VIP Prayer list where Jimmy will use his intelligent computer software, src4you which runs 24/7, to delete the negative and increase the strength of the positive creating a higher probability of favorable outcomes for you.

In addition, throughout the full 30-days, Jimmy will be dialing into your energetic signature each day upon rising and make certain that you are a clear yes, unclear to no and running forward before you start your day. He is doing the heavy lifting for you around 3am NY time while most of you are asleep in order to smooth out your way and increase your most favorable life outcomes.

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

Upon written email request, for each new order we offer a one-time email analysis via the intelligent healing software that Jimmy uses on your behalf. Most clients have had amazing results and outcomes!

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

You can run this monthly and stop at any time after the 30 days is up, you will have the opportunity to renew and update your list each month but are under no obligation. I believe you will experience magical transformations and make progress every day!

For those who aren't familiar, below is a list of the 30+ audios in the MyBeliefWorks series.... Find a topic that addresses your issue(s), click on the link to read more. We had a lot of help downloading & channeling these over the years & they keep getting better. Don't forget... you can share these with your immediate friends and family.

Receiving Abundance Freedom from Abuse Overcoming Addiction Body Scan: Head to Toe Healing Experiencing Bountiful Harvest Igniting Creative Spark Daily GPS Reset Releasing Dark Energies/Fears Crossroads -Decision Making Diet & Exercise Support Education & Learning Support 20%OFF Healing Family Relationships Attracting a Financial Windfall Gold Coin: More Money in All Forms Healing Body Disorders Healing Mental Stress

Relieving Holiday Stress Increasing Intuition 20%OFF Easing IRS Stress & Taxes Finding Love & Romance Positive Money Mindset Moving Forward from Past Chronic Pain Relief Pet Healing Support Improving Sales & Success Improving Sex Improving Sleep Traveling with Ease Work & Career Success Weight Loss Support Restoring Youth & Vitality

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Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

The Certificate of Mastery Program includes 2 best-selling ebooks and 2 clearing audios plus written & video instructions, AND one-on-one time with Jimmy ALL for about the cost of a single 1-hr session! This online course is for anyone who is familiar with OR new to "fishing" and is ready to dive into the deep end & get results that are beyond the ordinary! It includes The Tackle Box & The Dowser's Handbook ebooks PLUS 2 MP3s "Clearing Dark Energies" & "Increasing Your Intuition" to help clear, strengthen and prepare your energy field for optimal “fishing” results. This is a work-at-your-own-pace curriculum that will TEACH & CLEAR you at the same time! In under 2wks you will be finished with the program and ready to fish on your own with greater results! Level II offers Practitioner Certification for those who qualify.

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

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divinefishingtips · 4 years ago

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TGIWednesday and a clearing for family members

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

Live Show Appearances

YOU WEALTH REVOLUTION hosted by Darius

New Energy, New You™! New Season Happening Now! It's the biggest energy healing event of the year - best of all it’s FREE from your home!

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Monthly MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

From the Fish Box

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions The next opportunity to see Jimmy at Charla's Tampa office is: FRIDAY APRIL 30th from 10-4pm

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

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365dailyaffirmations · 4 years ago

Text

TGIWednesday and a clearing for family members

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

Live Show Appearances

YOU WEALTH REVOLUTION hosted by Darius

New Energy, New You™! New Season Happening Now! It's the biggest energy healing event of the year - best of all it’s FREE from your home!

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Monthly MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

From the Fish Box

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions The next opportunity to see Jimmy at Charla's Tampa office is: FRIDAY APRIL 30th from 10-4pm

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

advancedthetapractitioner · 4 years ago

Text

TGIWednesday and a clearing for family members

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

Live Show Appearances

YOU WEALTH REVOLUTION hosted by Darius

New Energy, New You™! New Season Happening Now! It's the biggest energy healing event of the year - best of all it’s FREE from your home!

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

Monthly MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

From the Fish Box

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions The next opportunity to see Jimmy at Charla's Tampa office is: FRIDAY APRIL 30th from 10-4pm

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

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