#night time fat burner

[tips4yourdailyhealth85]

Trimtone

Trimtone is a fat burner for women made with 100% natural ingredients (caffeine, green tea, green coffee, glucomannan & grains of paradise) which helps by burning fat, boosting metabolism and reducing appetite.

click the link to find out

[zhongli-lover-69]

tyyyy for the tag!!

@seafoamwolf @satorustan @theautistichalflinghole @catwyk @unbloodiedmartyr @3584-tropical-fish + anyone else who would like to hop on :-)

i found a cool tag game on twitter and i really wanna import it (o^ ^o)

this picrew + the last song you listened to :]

no pressure tags: @blood-loving-leech @overtaken-boredom @lesbianthatyaps @kameonerd566 @hexedvampire @laczki @anonymous-shxtposter @fleurafae @flovqy + anyone who wants to do it <3

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝘆

𝟭. high quality sleep ( 💤 )

never put your sleep on the back burner, 8 hours are not even enough, the younger you are the more you need sleep, especially if you are a woman. adult women generally need to sleep 9/10 hours a night, obviously the amount of sleep needed for rest depends from person to person, but always try to have a good, consistent sleep at night. if you ever think about sacrificing your sleep to study and/or procrastinate, know that you're only hurting yourself in the long run. without adequate rest, you will not be able to function properly and perform at your best the next day.

𝟮. eat nutritious meals ( 🍜 )

when was the last time you ate a nutritious, warm, homemade meal, honey? you should eat at least (AT LEAST) 3 times a day a real, cooked, warm meal that provide you with the proteins, fats and sugars your body needs to function normally. throw away packaged and over-processed snacks, they don't meet your energy needs and are simply full of empty calories that will make you feel sick and don't help your beautiful brain to function. eat lots of protein, which helps you build the muscle mass that keeps you healthy (i'll post about that) and healthy fats which keep your beautiful brain working – the brain is mostly made up of fats so don't be afraid of them! the important thing is to eat healthy fats that are good for our body.

𝟯. less is more ( 🧩 )

do less to achieve more. if you've ever made an absolutely unrealistic to-do list, raise your hand. overwhelmed by a thousand things to do we will never be able to make consistent progress in an area that interests us. it is not possible to do everything all the time and do it well, inevitably our energy runs out, our level of attention drops and we end up doing a little bit of everything badly. not all tasks can have priority, choose what to focus on and stick with it.

𝟰. be gentle with yourself ( 🌾 )

you're really giving it your all, why be so hard on yourself? the things you have done, the goals you have achieved, you should be proud of yourself and smile about it. demanding too much from your body will not lead to anything except burnout, remember that you are a person and not a machine, that you are not made to make every single hour of your day productive, and that it is okay to rest, because only thanks to rest you can face your day with the necessary energy.

[shookuna]

yuuta okkotsu x gn!reader!! nsf(w) - 18+ only!! cw: masturbation, noncon. reader has no physical traits aside from being shorter than yuuta

uuuuuugh thinking about office worker! yuuta :((( ... you two both work for the same firm, and every day you come in all smiles, wearing those little button up shirts and pencil skirts that hug your curves just perfectly :((( and you're so sweet to everyone in the office (him included !) so he feels absolutely awful for imagining you in all kinds of less than wholesome scenarios....

or at least that's what he likes to tell himself. but the way he comes undone in record time when he imagines you on your knees before him... wearing nothing but that lacy bra and panties he catches glimpses of when you bend down use the printer... that speaks for itself.

he (naively) assumed his at first that his feelings weren't going to be permanent! after all, everyone gets crushes on their coworkers, right? surely it wasn't too strange that he found your personal instagram, and made a burner account just so that he could like all of your posts... surely it wasn't too out of the ordinary that he revisits your account every night, getting off to the pictures of you smiling innocently with your friends... so surely it wasn't wrong of him, then, to get overwhelmed after an office happy hour one night... seeing you, cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol, oblivious as one of your other coworkers flirts so brazenly with you. right in front of him.

yuuta's only so strong. with temptation staring him right in the face, what else is he to do but fold right at your feet?

and that's how he finds himself following you to the bathroom, pressing you between himself and the wall. "shh, shh, pretty, it's okay... it's just me..." he groans out when you start to struggle against him, his breath hot and invasive against the back of your neck. you're caged there by his much taller form, one of his hands holding your wrists behind your back in an unexpected show of strength while the other cards through your hair. "shit, i didn't m-mean to scare you... i-it's just..." yuuta rasps out, his gentle voice a jarring contrast against the painful hold he's got you in. "y-you're so... fuuuuck, you're s-so pretty, baby..."

and by this point he's practically whimpering, a pathetic, half-drunken mess as he needily ruts his hips into the fat of your ass. he moves his free hand from your hair to pull your panties down to your thighs while muttering half-hearted apologies into the back of your hair, saying, "mm, s-sorry, m'sorry baby, jus' need you, been waiting for this for so long..."

just how long was he waiting for an opportunity like this, anyways?

© shookuna !

[luvrboydave]

omg married dave n u where ur wearing js easy access stuff while ur cooking n he slips it in 🧎‍♀️

OOOOH, you actually want me dead sage jesus christ this is so good...

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, creampies, kitchen sex

imagine waking up next to dave, sore from last night’s activities. you watch him sleep fondly, admiring how he looks basked in the morning sun streaming from the window. you notice that he’s hogging the blankets and let out an exasperated chuckle before getting up from the bed. on your way out of the bedroom, you pick up dave’s discarded shirt from the floor and slip it over your head.

when dave wakes up, he immediately notices you’re gone from the bed. he slowly slides out of the heap of blankets and begins to make his way towards the kitchen. the first thing he sees when he walks through the doorway is you standing in front of the stove, scrambling some eggs in a skillet. his eyes rake down your figure, his gaze lingering on your bare thighs for a bit too long. he sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into your neck and pressing kisses against it. you startle slightly at the touch at first, relaxing when you realize that it’s your husband. a smile pulls at your lips, and you lean back into him, “good morning, baby,” you say, turning your head and placing a chaste kiss on his lips before turning back to the stove.

dave rests his head on your shoulder, watching as you prepare breakfast. he knows he shouldn't be getting so turned on at the sight of you doing something so innocent, but he really can’t help it. the way that his shirt falls over your form drives him crazy, and knowing that he could just push it up, slide your panties to the side, and slip a finger or two inside of you drives him even crazier.

you’re just about finished cooking when you feel dave’s hands slide up your shirt and grope at your tits. you moan quietly, turning your head to look at him, “baby, i’m cooking right now…” dave hums, pinching a nipple between his fingers and smirking, “well, keep cooking then, sweetheart.” dave slides a hand down to slip into your panties and begins toying with your clit, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive nub. you try your best to concentrate on the food, but it’s hard when your husband is playing with you like this.

“dave…’m gonna burn the food if we don’t stop,” you murmur, reaching down to try and move his hand away.

you can hear him chuckle behind you as he uses the hand that was once playing with your tits to switch off the stove burner and set the skillet aside. dave pulls you away from the stove, not wanting you to get burnt, as he fucks into you and presses you against one of the counters. he pulls your panties to the side and runs two fingers through your soaking cunt, smirking at the wetness covering his hand.

dave carefully slips his cock out from his sweatpants and presses the tip into your hole. you whimper at the feeling, your pussy still sore from last night. dave pushes himself into you further, your cunt stretching to accommodate his size again. he’s got a grip on the fat of your ass, hands grabbing tighter when he finally bottoms out. when dave pulls out and suddenly thrusts back in, you yelp, hands gripping at the edge of the counter. he sets a steady pace, nudging at your cervix with every thrust.

“feel so full, baby,” you moan, reaching back to hold onto one of dave’s forearms. “i know you do, sweetheart, taking me so fuckin’ well,” he grunts out.

dave moves a hand to toy with your clit again, bringing you to the edge even faster than before. he knows you’re close to cumming when he feels your warm cunt start clenching around him. dave continues to fuck into you and rub at your swollen clit, and in no time, you're creaming all over his thick cock. “fuck, sweetheart, m’gonna fill you up so good…” he groans, thrusting into you a few more times before he stops, hips flush with your ass as he pumps you full of his cum.

dave pulls out slowly, and you whimper. you turn your head again to watch him spread you open and push any cum that leaked out of your cunt back inside. he slaps your ass before pulling your panties back over your ruined pussy. dave turns back to the oven and glances at you from over his shoulder, “so…what’s for breakfast, sweetheart?”

[jungle-angel]

The One With Cecelia's Special Brownies (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You and Rhett love your cat, Garfield, to death but he gets into everything

Warnings: Pot, cat getting high off of said pot etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @callmemana @rhettabbotts @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist

"Aw perfect," Cecelia said, inhaling the smell of the fresh brownies that had been pulled from the oven. She set it on the back burner to cool off, grabbing the broom from the kitchen closet to sweep up the small dustings of flour that had gotten on the floor, when a loud meow caught her attention.

"Damnit cat!" she exclaimed. "C'mon get outta here."

She nudged Garfield, the orange tabby cat with the broom but he refused to move, having just plopped himself right on the mess she was about to clean up. No matter how hard she nudged him with the broom, Garfield refused to move and kept meowing at her.

"Rhett!"

"Sup Ma?" he called from the living room.

"Fat ass parked himself in the kitchen again."

Rhett laughed and nudged Garfield with his toe. "Alright dumbass, up.....c'mon, stop botherin Ma when she's gotta clean up."

Garfield gave him a cheeky little meow before he finally moved, slinking off to go and catch whatever house pest was sure to catch his attention.

"Oh he'll listen to you but not me?" Cecelia chuckled. "Thanks I feel so loved."

"You are Ma," Rhett replied, hugging his mother. "Don't worry, (y/n) and I love ya'll and so doesn't Dad."

He made his way back into the living room where you were still laid up on the couch with a bad cold, your nose stuffier than ever and your top lip burning from how much you had been blowing your nose.

"Feelin ok sweetheart?" Rhett asked.

"Still feel like I've got the plague," you croaked. "I think I caught it from one of my fifth graders."

Rhett kissed your forehead and pulled you in so you could rest against him. "Just that time of the year darlin," he said. "Bet ya'll ten to nothin it was......"

"Cody Campbell?"

"Yep," Rhett chuckled. "Came to get your kiddos for the woodworkin class and he was snortin back his snot all the way to the practical arts building."

You cringed at the memory, one hundred percent sure that the ghastly illness would be raging throughout the Amelia County Steiner School like wildfire.

"Um......." you heard Cecelia's voice from the kitchen. "Rhett?"

"Yeah Ma?"

"Who got into the brownies?"

You and Rhett shook your heads. "Wasn't us Ma," he answered. "Why what's wrong?"

"Those weren't supposed to be eaten," she answered, the panic evident in her voice.

"Why?"

"Your father and I were saving those for the Zac Brown concert next week."

You and Rhett gave each other a look, the realization hitting you a split second later. "Uh oh," you squeaked.

"Did Dad eat one?" Rhett asked her.

His question was answered when the door creaked open and Royal came traipsing into the house, wiping his muddy boots on the doormat before sticking them on the boot rack. "Hey what smells good?" he asked.

"So if it wasn't Dad that got into'em then who did?" Rhett wondered aloud.

"What?" Royal asked. "Who got into what?"

Cecelia bit her lower lip, balling her fist as she pressed it to her mouth to keep from speaking another word.

"What'd you do woman?" Royal asked her.

"I didn't do shit Roy."

"Sugar bear, I know that look and it ain't good," he said. "Now what'd ya'll do?"

Garfield came around the corner, stumbling and meowing with the cheekiest grin on his face, his tail swishing in the air as he plopped himself right on the living room rug. Rhett snorted and Royal started laughing.

"Oh my God," Cecelia groaned.

"This remind ya'll of anything?" Royal laughed.

"Yeah reminds me of that time you, me, John and Evelyn went to a Doobie Brothers concert and I had to drive ya'll home because ya'll got blacked out high from the brownies," Cecelia told him.

You and Rhett had a good laugh on the matter, teasing Garfield until his high finally wore off later that night and making a note that should Cecelia ever make her special brownies again, to put them in the back of the fridge.

[spinball-nonethewiser]

Hello!!!! My username is Spinball-nonethewiser, but you can just call me…hmm…how about,

None The Wiser!

…Or anything you can come up with.

————————————————————————

My Pronouns are She/Her, or They/Them.

I like using emoticons a lot, sorry :33

I do have ADHD, and it is still unknown if I have autism, so I won’t say I do.

My hyperfixations come and go, but they’re most likely to come back.

I love drawing art!! And I wanna get into fanfic writing sometimes soon.

I am a minor, but I’m not gonna say how old for privacy reasons. I am okay with interacting with adults, just…Don’t. Be. Weird.

Now…For Fandoms I’m in!!

————————————————————————

These are in no specific order:

Mouthwashing

Wander Over Yonder (WOY)

Cookie run

Bfdi, II, (I have yet to watch other object shows)

Alton Towers (yes. The theme park)

Pokémon

Hilda!!! ^^

Fandoms on the back burner (not super Hyperfixated on, but still looks in the fandom from time to time)

The Outsiders

Epithet Erased

Omori

(Feel free to talk to me about these fandoms as well, I don’t mind.)

————————————————————————

Other things you might want to know:

I LOVE being grammatically correct. If I’m not, I’m sorry. I have fat fingers or it’s autocorrect.

I am white, and American.

I am part of the lgbtq community. This space is a safe one!!!

No nsfw here. Don’t send it to me, don’t be weird.

If you wanna be mutuals, feel free to!! I won’t bite. (Unless you’re weird. Have I not elaborated on that enough?)

I do ship, and I like making fanchildren for my favorite ships, so if have a problem with that, then I’m sorry.

————————————————————————

DNI if:

You’re homophobic, transphobic, racist, sexist, or anything else like that.

————————————————————————

That should be it! Have a good day/night and goodbye!!!! :DDDD

[marcomarconii]

How To Lose Belly Fat Without Doing Crunches 📝

📌 Are you tired of endless crunches and not seeing results? Here’s the truth: You don’t need crunches to lose belly fat. Let’s break it down and talk about what really works.

1️⃣ Focus On Nutrition, Not Just Workouts

➡️ Belly fat is mainly a result of diet, not a lack of crunches. You can’t out-train a poor diet! What you eat plays the biggest role in fat loss.

💡Cut back on processed foods and sugary drinks. Focus on whole, nutrient-dense meals like veggies, lean protein, and healthy fats.

2️⃣ Prioritize Strength Training

➡️ Building muscle helps boost your metabolism, meaning you burn more calories even at rest. The more muscle you have, the easier it is to shed fat, even belly fat.

💡Incorporate full-body strength training 3 times a week. Focus on compound movements like squats, deadlifts, and push-ups.

3️⃣ Don’t Skip Cardio, But Mix It Up

➡️ Cardio helps burn calories, but the key is variety. High-intensity interval Training (HIIT) is especially effective for burning fat without long, boring cardio sessions.

💡Add 2-3 HIIT sessions to your routine each week. Think of short bursts of intense exercise followed by rest. It’s a time-saver and a fat burner!

4️⃣ Get Enough Sleep (Seriously)

➡️ Lack of sleep leads to increased cortisol levels, which encourages your body to hold onto fat, especially around the belly. Sleep is just as important as exercise.

💡Aim for 7-8 hours of sleep per night. Your body recovers and burns fat more effectively when well-rested.

5️⃣ Manage Stress To Manage Fat

➡️ High-stress levels can lead to belly fat through cortisol production. Finding ways to reduce stress will help reduce fat accumulation in your midsection.

💡Try stress-relieving activities like walking, meditation, or even yoga. Just 10 minutes a day can make a big difference.

➡️ Losing belly fat isn’t about crunches. It’s about the right balance of nutrition, strength training, cardio, and recovery. Focus on the bigger picture, and you’ll see the results you want.

📌 P.S. Know someone who’s frustrated with belly fat? Repost this to help them out ♻️ For more effective fitness tips and fat-loss strategies, consider joining my weekly newsletter: https://marcomarconii.ck.page/eac0f41c6a 📬

[worldoffitness]

Trimtone

Trimtone is a fat burner for women made with 100% natural ingredients (caffeine, green tea, green coffee, glucomannan & grains of paradise) which helps by burning fat, boosting metabolism and reducing appetite.

[weightlossmiss]

How to Lose Body Fat

Losing body fat is an essential part of a healthy lifestyle. A healthy body fat percentage can help reduce the risk of various diseases, such as heart disease, diabetes, and stroke. Here are some effective ways to lose body fat:

1. Consume Fewer Calories. The first step towards losing body fat is to consume fewer calories than your body needs. This can be achieved by reducing portion sizes, avoiding high-calorie foods like fried foods and sugary drinks, and increasing the intake of vegetables and fruits.

2. Increase Physical Activity. Regular physical activity can help you burn calories and lose body fat. Aim for at least 30 minutes of moderate-intensity exercise, such as brisk walking or cycling, every day.

3. Strength Training . Strength training exercises, such as weightlifting or bodyweight exercises, can help you build muscle and lose body fat. Muscle tissue burns more calories than fat tissue, so increasing muscle mass can help you burn more calories, even at rest.

4. Reduce Stress Levels .High levels of stress can lead to the production of the hormone cortisol, which can cause the body to store fat. Practicing stress-reducing techniques, such as meditation or yoga, can help reduce cortisol levels and promote fat loss.

5. Get Enough Sleep .Lack of sleep can disrupt hormones that regulate appetite and metabolism, leading to increased hunger and decreased metabolism. Aim for at least seven hours of sleep per night to promote healthy weight loss.

Remember that losing body fat takes time, and it's essential to make sustainable lifestyle changes. Follow these tips consistently, and you'll see significant improvements in your body composition and overall health.

Share your favorite strategies for losing body fat in the comments section below!

[balancednutritionks]

The Ultimate Guide to Losing Belly Fat: Strategies for a Trim and Toned Midsection

Dreaming of a flat and toned stomach? You're not alone. Belly fat is a common concern for many people, but with the right approach, you can achieve your goals and reveal those sculpted abs. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore the best strategies for losing belly fat, including the use of belly fat burners, effective dietary and exercise practices, and lifestyle adjustments to support your journey to a slimmer midsection.

Understanding Belly Fat

Before diving into the strategies for losing belly fat, it's essential to understand the different types of fat and why belly fat can be particularly stubborn. There are two main types of belly fat:

Subcutaneous Fat: This type of fat lies just beneath the skin and is often referred to as "pinchable" fat. While subcutaneous fat can contribute to a protruding belly, it is less harmful to health compared to visceral fat.

Visceral Fat: Located deep within the abdominal cavity, visceral fat surrounds vital organs such as the liver, pancreas, and intestines. Excess visceral fat is associated with an increased risk of various health conditions, including heart disease, type 2 diabetes, and certain cancers.

Best Strategies for Losing Belly Fat

1. Incorporate Cardiovascular Exercise:

Cardiovascular exercise, such as running, cycling, swimming, or brisk walking, can help burn calories and reduce overall body fat, including belly fat. Aim for at least 150 minutes of moderate-intensity cardio or 75 minutes of vigorous-intensity cardio per week, supplemented with strength training exercises to build lean muscle mass.

2. Focus on High-Intensity Interval Training (HIIT):

HIIT workouts involve alternating between short bursts of high-intensity exercise and periods of rest or low-intensity activity. HIIT has been shown to be particularly effective for reducing abdominal fat and improving overall fitness levels in a shorter amount of time compared to traditional steady-state cardio.

3. Incorporate Strength Training:

Strength training exercises, such as squats, lunges, deadlifts, and planks, can help build lean muscle mass and boost metabolism, leading to increased calorie burning and fat loss. Aim to include strength training workouts targeting the major muscle groups at least two to three times per week.

4. Adopt a Balanced Diet:

Focus on consuming a balanced diet rich in whole, nutrient-dense foods such as fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, whole grains, and healthy fats. Minimize intake of processed foods, sugary snacks, and refined carbohydrates, which can contribute to belly fat accumulation and overall weight gain.

5. Monitor Portion Sizes:

Practice portion control to avoid overeating and excess calorie consumption, which can lead to weight gain and belly fat accumulation. Use smaller plates, measure serving sizes, and pay attention to hunger and fullness cues to help regulate food intake.

The Role of Belly Fat Burners

Belly fat burners are supplements or compounds designed to enhance fat burning, particularly in the abdominal region. These products often contain ingredients such as caffeine, green tea extract, and forskolin, which are believed to increase metabolism, promote fat oxidation, and support weight loss. While belly fat burners may offer some benefits, they are not a magic solution for losing belly fat and should be used in conjunction with a balanced diet and regular exercise for best results.

Lifestyle Adjustments for Belly Fat Loss

In addition to diet and exercise, making lifestyle adjustments can help support your efforts to lose belly fat:

Get Adequate Sleep: Aim for seven to nine hours of quality sleep per night to support hormone balance, metabolism, and overall health.

Manage Stress: Chronic stress can lead to increased cortisol levels, which may contribute to belly fat accumulation. Practice stress-reducing techniques such as meditation, deep breathing exercises, or spending time in nature.

Stay Hydrated: Drink plenty of water throughout the day to stay hydrated and support digestion, metabolism, and overall health.

Conclusion

Losing belly fat requires a multifaceted approach that includes regular exercise, a balanced diet, lifestyle adjustments, and potentially the use of belly fat burner supplements. By incorporating cardiovascular exercise, strength training, and HIIT workouts into your routine, adopting a balanced diet rich in whole foods, and making lifestyle adjustments to support overall health and well-being, you can achieve your goals and reveal a trim and toned midsection. Remember to be patient and consistent, as losing belly fat takes time and dedication. With the right approach and mindset, you can say goodbye to belly fat and hello to a healthier, happier you.

[dustedmagazine]

Dave Rempis Percussion Quartet — Harvesters (Aerophonic)

Harvesters by Rempis Percussion Quartet

Saxophonist Dave Rempis is joined on Harvesters by bassist Ingebrigt Håker Flaten and two drummers, Tim Daisy and Frank Rosaly. The group last recorded in 2013, and the double CD is from their first tour of France in March 2023, a live evening at Le Petit Faucheux in Tours (The English translation of the venue’s name is “Little Daddy Long Legs”—Harvester is another name for the spider). Rempis and company spent a week visiting five venues in France. The set from Tours, their first night in the country, is extraordinary music-making.

Two pieces are on the first CD. “Everything Happens to You” is a half-hour long piece that presents an interesting reversal. It begins with trills and shrieks, out of which, after considerable free improv, a tune emerges. This setup is the opposite of traditional jazz performances, where the tune begins the proceedings to be followed by solos. The drummers create a welter of polyrhythms, rather than interlocking, complementing and responding to each other. Listening again, one can find scraps of the melody that eventually appears: Crafty construction and passionate execution.

Trumpeter Jean-Luc Cappozzo guests on “The Exuberant Aubergine,” playing high, breathy, glissandos while Rempis once again plays fleet trills. It is a slow tempo piece that is also a slow burner. The percussionists, for the most part, keep their powder and the dynamic level low. Cappozzo unfurls a wide-ranging solo and Rempis responds with bent notes and high glissandos of his own. Håker Flaten contextualizes the harmony with scalar passages and chromatic passagework. Cappozzo and Rempis trade riffs, sometimes imitating one another and at others doing their own thing. Duet becomes a trio with bass notes double-timing, moving through all the registers of the instrument. Solos are exchanged in the next section, with the percussionists pressing the action with muscular playing. Midway through, the surface calms, bass notes repeated instead of the previous scalar movement, misterioso melodies from trumpet and saxophone, and a general slowing down. Pops, clicks and slurps from the winds are responded to by accentuations in the percussion. A gradual accelerando and the return of Rempis’ trills signal a return to the demeanor of the opening volleys. The intensity ratchets up, with the drummers becoming more prominent than the winds, despite their altissimo held notes. Once again, riffs are traded, with a call and response between Rempis and Cappozzo responded to by intense playing from the rhythm section. The conclusion sees the drums move back to a simmer, the bass playing repeated notes against a decrescendo by the winds. Exuberant indeed.

CD 2 chronicles the second set. “Spooky Action” begins with a drum duet that introduces a syncopated rhythmic pattern. Rempis is buoyed by the drumming to soaring solos. Håker Flaten adds yet another layer of metric ambiguity. The rhythm section maintains its energetic performance, Rempis exploring and melding various melodic cells of material, creating flurries of ostinatos. Once again, a soulful melody is saved for late in the piece. At the last, the drums drop out, the bass plays repeated pitches, and Rempis builds the repeating patterns into a caterwauling climax, with the percussionists only then edging back in. Rempis concludes with a bluesy cadenza, punctuated by aphoristic gestures from the other players.

“Little Fascists” begins with Cagean percussion improv. Rempis enters similarly, with disjunct riffs and rasping, sustained pitches. He then builds overtones with perfectly tuned harmonics. Håker Flaten contributes a long high register arco trill, adding to the sense of experimentation. Rempis adds keening wails at the end of the piece. While the free jazz blowing on other tunes is exciting, “Little Fascists” has a distinctive sound world that is fascinating.

The final tune, “Fat Lip” opens with a bass solo in which harmonics are juxtaposed against a pizzicato solo that ranges the whole instrument. Håker Flaten has been a keen collaborator throughout the concert, and his solo brings this style to the fore. Rempis joins him with an undulating melody that begins brawny and slow and proceeds to mercurial runs. The drummers alternate between pulsation and freely constructed fills. Rempis returns to his mid-register melody, embellished with quick scales. The saxophonist savors an intervallic sequence, tweaking it here and there with half step variations. His solo quickens and takes up a stentorian tone. The rest of the group recognizes his intentions, pressing forward and creating a sweltering density. With raucous howls and undulating lines, Rempis fragments “Fat Lip’s” melodic contours. He eventually settles on two short riffs, that he repeats as the drummers add still more fills and Håker Flaten plays a modal ostinato. The conclusion is a decrescendo with a sizzle of cymbal at the end.

One hopes that more of the France tour might be committed to disc. This is Aerophonic’s tenth anniversary, and there are few better ways to celebrate than more of Rempis’s Percussion Quartet.

Christian Carey

[mdzs-is-rotting-my-brain]

for @gwyndal

😣😴😌

comfort, fluff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wei Wuxian never thought he would willingly rise before ten in the morning.

When the talismen he set the night before vibrated against his breastbone, he nearly scrunched the thing in his hand and went back to sleep.

Then he remembered what today was and all the practice and preperation he’d done for it.

Blinking sleep from his eyes, he gave it a mintue for them to adjust to the dark Jingshi.

His beautiful, etheral, incredibly-light-sleeper, lay on his side, arms wrapped tight around Wei Wuxian.

Reaching into his sleeve he pulled out his second talisman, putting it on Lan Zhan’s arm, feeding it a bit of qi so it activated quietly. He hated using talismans to keep his husband asleep, it felt.. dishonest, like he was breaking his trust. But the image of coming back to the Jingshi after early morning tea and stroll with Lan Xichan to see his husband…broken down, not crying, but not looking far from it, stuck in his mind. Since then he swore he’d never let Lan Zhan wake up without him there to soothe nightmares or to remind him that their confession, their marriage, their life, was not a dream.

Slipping out of Lan Zhan’s arms, he replaced

his body with a pillow, before easing out of the bed, tiptoeing from their bedroom to the outer rooms.

Since he had gone to bed last, everything he needed was set up, the hearth still burning, warming the room, their robes were laid out, along with thick socks, gloves and a cloak for Wei Wuxian.

He dressed quickly, in his rush he put his boots on the wrong feet, had to stop and switch them around before he was out the door, not quite running down the path, but definitely breaking the ‘walk orderly’ rule.

The Cloud Recesses kitchens were bright and warm when he arrived, the cooks greeting him kindly as he took his prepared food from the night before and laid it all out.

He didn’t bother trying too cook it, despite trying to learn, the only thing he’d manged to get good at in a few months was brewing tea and folding dumplings. He did both, making two whole trays of extra fat ones for Jingyi and Yuan-er, to be delivered to their room with a note inviting them to come by in the afternoon. He knew they had gone down to Caiyi last week in preperation.

The food was ready and packed for him before he realized how much time had passed, but when he heard the cooks getting ready to serve congee he gathered his things and scurried from the kitchens.

In the middle of winter, the sky wouldn’t be light for another few hours, so Wei Wuxian was extra careful on his way back, picking his way around the ornamental gardens, and large stones until he returned to the Jingshi, breakfast secured.

He kicked off his boots, toeing them out of the way so no one tripped on them, threw more wood onto the fire. He light more incense in the burner and spread out the food just as he heard Lan Zhan turning over in his sleep.

Wei Wuxian gathered the robes and ribbon.

Going into their room, he paused at the door for a moment. Admiring the view of his husband, Prestine and beautiful as if he was carved from jade, sure. Yes, he was. But Wei Wuxian had seem him hurt, and angry, and sad, he had seen the way his face got when he was unsure, when he was drunk, or how his ears burned when he was aroused.

The world may have their Jade, so long as Wei Wuxian got the man underneath.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian called to him before he approached. Years away from it they may be, they were both war veterens and one never knew what the other dreamed of, nor how it cling in the first moments in the morning,

He trailed his fingers up Lan Zhan’s leg, feeling him shift under the blankets. Sliding his hand into Lan Zhan’s, he kissed the smooth skin.

“Wei Ying.”

He never got tired of hearing his husbands voice first thing in the morning. Gravely and sleep thick, confused like a child until he blinked it clear, looking at him like he hung the moon.

“Good morning A-Zhan.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes darted to the windows, then back, “Is it?”

Wei Wuxian laughed, leaning down to nip at his husbands ear, “Slander, from my own husband on this special day I have planned.”

Lan Zhan hummed, his free hand finding Wei Wuxian’s hair, sliding his fingers through it as Wei Wuxian sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at him.

Lan Zhan was so…soft in the mornings, his face puffy from where he’d lain, he was not yet alert like he was during all hours of the day or night.

Wei Wuxian breathed in the sleep of their room, the thickness of their marriage bed, he was glad he was the only one that got to see Lan Zhan this soft and gentle in the mornings.

He kissed his husband, laughing when teeth sank into his bottom lip, gently grinding before he let Wei Wuxian go.

“There will be time for that later.” He promised, pulling Lan Zhan up by his arms, “Up, up, I want to dress you.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes roamed over Wei Wuxian’s body, darkening at the sight of his exposed wrists and collarbones, “We don’t have too.”

Wei Wuxian was a weak man. Weak of heart and weak of will. No one knew that better than Lan Zhan, and no one knew how to manipulate his weakness better than his husband.

He wrestled with himself for a moment, before shaking his head,

“No, no. I have breakfast, and the ducklings are coming by, and your uncle and Xichen.”

Lan Zhan frowned, pulling Wei Wuxian closer, “So many. Why?”

Wei Wuxian let himself be pulled, struck dumb. Aghast that his husband of all people could forget a day like today.

“Lan Zhan, A-Zhan, my Lan-er-gege.” His cloak slid to the floor, large hands spread across his back, lips descended onto his exposed collarbone, a hum told him Lan Zhan was hearing him, but not listening.

His hands found Lan Zhan’s hair by habit, his breath quicking.

“It’s…it’s your birthday…people are coming…I got breakfast.”

Lan Zhan’s hands were under his outer robe, warm against his chilled skin.

“Did you cook?”

Wei Wuxian laughed, “Slander, maligned! By my own husband.” He caught Lan Zhan’s face tipping it up. His eyes were dark and wide, his lips red and wet. Wei Wuxian slid his thumb across his bottom lip, watching Lan Zhan tremble under his touch.

“No. I just asked the kitchens to make your favorites.”

Lan Zhan smiled at him, sleep-soft and warm, another thing only Wei Wuxian got to see.

With little effort, he tipped Wei Wuxian onto the bed, pinning him there.

“Then it will still be good later.”

Later, in the golden glow of later afternoon, as Yuan-er sat praying for many more years, and refilling his father’s teacup, Wei Wuxian smiled, warm in the comfort of a home, a family, and love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pro tip: don't tease your husband with cute pet names if you want your day to go according to plan.

[sjsmith56]

The Knock on the Front Door - Part 6, From There to Here - Bucky Barnes One Shots.

Summary: many families received the knock on the front door from Western Union during World War II, advising them of the capture or death of a loved one. This is George and Winnifred Barnes’ experience.

Length: 4.25K

Characters: George, Winnifred and Rebecca Barnes, minister, Peggy Carter

Warnings: Bucky’s capture, Bucky’s death, grief, anger at God

Author's note:  Many thanks to the user Fictitious on AO3 who suggested a one shot of George and Winnifred Barnes' reaction to the capture of Bucky, his rescue, then his final fall.  Certainly, it was something that many families experienced and I hope I did it justice. Told from Winnifred Barnes’ POV. The formatting of the telegrams came from actual copies of real telegrams that I found on the internet.

<<Part 5

🗞️

October 1943

The alarm clock went off and George reached over to turn it off before turning back to me.  I knew I had to get up to see to his breakfast and make his lunch for work, but I had such a headache the night before that I was sure I was coming down with something.  He stroked my arm.

"How do you feel Winnie?" he asked.  "Still have the headache?"

"Worse," I mumbled.  "Must be a cold coming on.  Give me a few minutes and I'll get up to get your breakfast going."

"No, you stay in bed," he said, patting my arm.  "I can get my own.  Goodness knows I can fry up a couple of eggs, some bacon and toast.  I'm not that useless."

"George, you're not useless at all," I smiled.  "I'm awake anyways and have to get Rebecca up for school.  I'll go back to bed after I get her seen to, I promise."

"You're a good woman," he said, as he sat up and stretched.  "I hope we get a letter from Bucky soon.  The fighting in Italy has been hard but they must get some time away from the fighting."

He headed for the bathroom to wash up and shave while I put my robe on and headed down to the kitchen.  It was cold down there and I went down to the cellar to put some coal in the furnace.  I made a note to order some more coal soon.  Back in the kitchen I put the coffee on and turned on the gas burner on the stove, placing the cast iron frying pan on it with half a dozen slices of bacon in it.  While those began to cook I cut half a dozen slices of bread from the loaf, and pulled a couple of eggs out of the ice box.  Four of the bread slices were buttered then I layered some delicatessen meat and cheeses on them, before slicing them in half and wrapping them in waxed paper.  The other two slices were put into the toaster for George's breakfast.  Along with a piece of apple pie, an apple, and several cookies which were put with the sandwiches into George's lunch box I poured most of the coffee into his flask, adding some cream and sugar.  I put his lunch box and flask on the side table next to the front door.  Opening the front door I took the morning newspaper out of the mailbox and brought it inside so George could read it while he ate breakfast.

The bacon was done and I lifted the pieces out, then drained some of the fat out, collecting it in a jar that I kept just for that as bacon grease was good for cooking.  I broke the two eggs into the pan and noticed the bread was toasted so I buttered the slices.  As I splashed the bacon grease onto the eggs to cook the top George came down, dressed for work at the shipyards.  He gave me a kiss on the side of the head and poured himself some of the coffee from the coffee pot, even though it was the stuff at the bottom and likely very strong.  He always said he liked it that way as it was the best way to start the day.  With the spatula I put the eggs on a plate, along with the bacon and toast, placing it in front of him, along with the bottle of ketchup, salt and pepper. 

While he began eating I began making oatmeal for Rebecca's breakfast, bringing water to a boil, adding the oats, stirring them then lowering the temperature so they cooked slowly.  They took longer, sometimes as long as 30 minutes plus I had to keep my eye on them to keep them from burning. 

"Oh dear," said George, suddenly as he read the paper.  "Winnie, look at this."  He pointed to a newspaper article of recent battles.  "The 107th was in a battle at Azzano in Italy a few days ago.  Out of 200 men less than 50 returned.  The rest are either dead or captured."

"You think Bucky is alright?" I asked, my fear threatening to choke me.  "They send telegrams if they're killed or captured, don't they?"

"Yes, they do," he said.  "We should have received something by now, I would hope."  He stood up and held me, stroking my back.  "No news is good news, right?  He's okay.  I feel it in my bones."

Nodding my head, I let him comfort me.  He returned to eating his breakfast while I stirred the oats.  The 23rd Psalm entered my head and I tried to take comfort in the words.  Bucky had to be okay, he just had to be.  George finished his breakfast and stood up, checking the clock.  Once more he hugged me, then kissed me on the cheek.

"I'll phone at lunch," he said.  "It will be alright, Winnie.  I have to go."

He put his work jacket on, tucked his lunchbox and flask under his arm and took the car keys to drive to the shipyard.  While I washed his breakfast dishes, I continued to watch the oatmeal, then hurried upstairs to wake up Rebecca.  She was already awake, bless her, and was just finishing up in the bathroom. 

Back down in the kitchen I took out the milk, brown sugar and a banana.  School lunch programs started the year before so I didn't have to worry about making Rebecca a lunch.  While I watched the oatmeal I read the news article about the 107th, hoping there was more information I could glean from it but it was pretty cut and dried.  Folding the paper back up I put it aside and checked the oatmeal texture, deciding it was ready.  I spooned out enough for each of us and sat down waiting for my daughter to come down for breakfast.  We ate without talking ... rather, I ate without talking as Rebecca spoke enough for both of us, telling me about an activity that was planned for school later in the week.  I must have not been listening because she put her hand on my arm.

"Ma, what's wrong?" she asked.  "I asked you about the bake sale three times."

"Sorry, sweetheart," I replied.  "My mind is elsewhere.  I had such a headache last night and I feel it coming on again."

"Do you want me to get you some aspirin?" she asked, and I smiled at her, nodding my assent.

She returned with a couple of aspirin a few minutes later and I took them with some water.  After kissing Rebecca goodbye, I cleaned up the rest of the breakfast dishes and headed upstairs to make the beds and get dressed.  There were some of George's work shirts that needed washing, so I got the wash tub out and put the kettle on for hot water.  After dissolving some detergent in the water, I put his shirts in to soak for a while in the hot water.  Once it had cooled down a bit, I could scrub them on the washboard.  While they soaked, I dusted and phoned the coal man to get more coal delivered soon.  Just as I got the washboard out there was a knock on the door and I wiped my hands on my apron to see who it was.  As soon as I opened the door, I felt a rush of fear in my stomach as it was a telegraph delivery boy.

"Mrs. George Barnes?" he asked.  I nodded and he gave me an envelope, smiling sympathetically.  "Would you please sign here?"

I signed the form and he tipped his cap, then headed back down to his bicycle, off to deliver another telegram.  Holding it in my hand I stared at it for the longest time then brought it to the kitchen and placed it on the table, wanting desperately to know what it said, but at the same time fearing what it could say.  I opened the envelope and pulled the telegram out.

WA 4446 GOVT=WASHINGTON OC 21 843A

MR AND MRS GEORGE BARNES=

140 68 ST BROOKLYN NY=

THE SECRETARY OF WAR DESIRES ME TO EXPRESS HIS DEEP REGRET THAT YOUR SON SGT JAMES B BARNES HAS BEEN REPORTED MISSING IN ACTION SINCE 10 OCTOBER IN EUROPEAN AREA PERIOD IF FURTHER DETAILS OR OTHER INFORMATION ARE RECEIVED YOU WILL BE PROMPTLY NOTIFIED PERIOD=

ULIO THE ADJUTANT GENERAL

A sob escaped from my throat.  My boy, my beautiful boy, was missing in action.  Giving in to the emotions I had a long cry at the kitchen table then slowly pulled myself together, placing the telegram back into the envelope and putting it in my apron pocket.  The water that George's shirts were soaking in was cooler and I began rubbing them against the washboard, working through my grief and fear by scrubbing the stains on the fabric.  When I was satisfied with their cleanliness I wrung them out and used a pot to empty out the dirty water down the drain.  Then I picked it up and tipped the rest out, rinsing the tub so I could fill it with clean water again to rinse the shirts.  Once that was done I wrung them out again then took them out to the line and pinned them up to dry. 

I could see Mrs. Webster in the yard across doing the same and we waved at each other.  A part of me desperately wanted to tell her about Bucky but I wanted to tell George first before anyone else.  Plastering a smile on my face I wished her a good morning and turned back into the house, desperate to find something, anything that would keep my mind off that awful piece of paper in my apron pocket.  As the clock neared to lunch time at the docks I stayed in the kitchen, not wanting to be far from the phone.  When it did finally ring, and I heard George's voice he knew by the sound of mine that something was wrong.

"Winnie, please, tell me straight," he whispered. 

I could hear him choke up a little.  Pulling the telegram out I read it out to him and and heard the sudden intake of breath on his end, then the muttered swear.

"Damn, damn them all to hell," he said.  "I'm going to try to get the afternoon off.  Stay strong.  It says missing in action, that's not the same as killed.  He could be a prisoner and if they follow the Geneva Convention they have to notify the Red Cross that they have him."

He hung up but it was well over an hour before he showed up at the door.  As soon as he came in he held me, both of us crying.  Then he kissed my forehead and asked to see the telegram, poring over it, hoping to decipher something more from it than what was on the paper.  When Rebecca arrived home from school she knew as soon as she saw her father there that something was wrong.  George broke the news to her about her brother and she immediately began to cry, as he enveloped her in his arms and let her cry her eyes out. 

For almost two weeks we lived in limbo, not knowing anything.  George still went to work, Rebecca still went to school, and I existed in a state between grief and denial, refusing to accept that the God I believed in would take my only son so soon from us.  George still had some acquaintances in the service, and he asked them to let him know if there was any word of POWs taken at Azzano.  On November 4, a Thursday, he came home early from work.  When he opened the door and called my name my first thought was that he had received the dreaded telegram at work but when he came in with a joyous look on his face, holding that day's copy of Stars and Stripes, the services newspaper, I began to hope.  The headline read 400 Prisoners Liberated, and the story told of a new hero ... Captain America ... who had gone single-handedly behind enemy lines to get to the 107th POWs, all 163 of them who survived the battle at Azzano, plus others from other units also being held. 

"It says that?" I asked, quickly scanning the article.

"It says he deliberately went looking for the 107th because his childhood friend was one of the prisoners," replied George.  "Winnie, Steve Rogers is Captain America."

"No, that can't be right," I replied.  "He was 4F.  Although, he did get accepted for basic training after Bucky shipped out.  How could he become strong enough to go by himself and rescue 400 POWs?"

We both read the article and although Captain America wasn't identified by name it described him as a handsome, tall, muscular man of 25 with blond hair and blue eyes, who came from Brooklyn.   Even if the height and weight description was wrong, everything else fit.  Who else could it be?  Later that evening we received another telegram and this time it was from the Army to say that Bucky had been returned to military control.  There were no other details but that apparently meant he was safe. 

It was another couple of days before we received another telegram and this one was from Bucky himself.

AM SAFE AND SOUND THANKS TO STEVE PERIOD WILL WRITE SOON PERIOD LOVE YOU ALL=

BUCKY=

It was as if everything was right again in our lives; the sun seemed brighter, the air seemed warmer and all three of us awakened in the morning full of hope for the day.  Even better was the day we received an actual letter from Bucky.  In it he confirmed that Steve was in fact, Captain America, the new hero of the war.  Bucky couldn't say what happened to Steve as it was secret but the sickly boy of their childhood and youth was no more, replaced by a strong man with incredible abilities but still containing the good heart of the boy we loved as much as our son.  A picture taken of the two showed two handsome young men, both now working on a special unit called the Howling Commandos.  It was as if they were always meant to be together, side by side, fighting evil for real, instead of pretending like when they were boys. 

Over the following months Bucky wrote regularly, and we read the exploits of the unit in the newspapers and heard about them on the radio through on air war correspondents.  There was even a Life magazine photoshoot for the February 1945 issue that was done and already on the newsstands in early January.  We bought two copies as soon as we saw it, which was smart because it sold out in the neighbourhood just because of the prominence of the two local boys who were in it.  It wasn't long after the magazine came out that the knock on our front door happened for the last time.  It was Saturday, during dinner when we heard the sound.  George got up to answer the knock, wondering if it was another local reporter wanting our take on the Life magazine cover.  I heard the door close and no sound after that, wondering what was going on.

"George?" I called out.  "Is everything alright?"

He slowly returned to the kitchen holding the telegram open in his hand, his face suddenly looking a hundred years old.  His mouth was open and then a cry came out of it that frightened me, and Rebecca.  Stepping towards me he began shaking his head in denial.

"There has to be a mistake," he said.  "This can't be true."

"George, dearest, what is it?" I asked, now afraid to know the answer. 

That's when he handed the telegram to me, and I read for myself.

WA 1715 GOVT=WASHINGTON JAN 20 615P

MR AND MRS GEORGE BARNES=

140 68 ST BROOKLYN NY=

THE SECRETARY OF WAR DESIRES ME TO EXPRESS HIS DEEPEST REGRET THAT YOUR SON SGT JAMES B BARNES HAS BEEN REPORTED KILLED IN ACTION 16 JANUARY IN EUROPEAN AREA PERIOD FURTHER DETAILS OR OTHER INFORMATION ARE MARKED CLASSIFIED PERIOD A LETTER FROM HIS COMMANDING OFFICER WILL BE SENT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE PERIOD=

ULIO THE ADJUTANT GENERAL

I slumped to the floor, still holding that telegram in my hand.  Like George, I couldn't believe it.  Bucky, dead?  How could this happen?  Rebecca sat at the table, tears pouring out of her eyes, not needing to read the telegram to know that it was the worst news possible.  There was another sound in the room, a terrible keening wail and it was coming from my throat.  George kneeled down on the floor with me, gathering me into his arms, adding his sobs to my wails.  Dinner was forgotten as our family bled our pain out as surely as if we had taken a knife to our wrists. 

When we didn't sleep that night we didn't go to church the next day and the minister came to the door, knocking hesitantly.  George answered it and Reverend Martin knew as soon as he saw our faces what had happened.  He read the telegram, then grasped my hand as we sat in the parlour.

"He is with our Lord now," he said in a gentle voice.  "His struggle is over and he is in a better place."

"Don't," I breathed through a clenched mouth.  "I can't believe God took him for real this time.  It was bad enough he made him a prisoner before.  Wasn't that enough?  What did Bucky ever do to deserve this?  He stood up for people, never lied, never cheated anyone, worked hard.  Tell me why he has to die while someone less deserving gets to live."

Of course, he just spouted some more platitudes that I didn't want to hear.  Abruptly I stood up and went to our room, just to get away from the droning and completely inadequate words that were meant to comfort me.  George came upstairs after he saw the Reverend out.

"He's bringing us a gold star flag," he said.  We had a blue star flag in our front window indicating we had a family member fighting overseas.  "He truly is sorry, Winnie.  Remember he has two boys in Europe as well."

"When one of them dies I'll listen to him again, but not until then," I replied angrily.

George kneeled down in front of me, grasping my hands in his.  "Winnie, your anger won't bring him back."  His voice cracked as he spoke and I could see he was on the verge of crying again.  "Take comfort where we can, even if we don't believe it yet.  Bucky wouldn't want you to be angry because that's not how you raised him."  I looked at my husband dully, surprised that he said I raised our son.  "You did raise him because I was busy in the army then at the shipyards trying to make a living after I lost my eye.  He's my son but he's your boy, through and through.  Everything good about him is from you."

He bent his head into my lap and began to weep for Bucky, truly weep like I had never heard him before.  Pulling one of my hands out of his I stroked his grey hair and cried again for my beautiful son; so handsome, so confident, so good a man.  By mid-afternoon there was a steady stream of visitors bringing food, baking, and just themselves to sit with us in the parlour.  I accepted their condolences with as much grace as I could muster.  The gold star flag replaced the blue star flag in the window, to show the world we had lost a son. 

Two weeks later we received a letter from Steve.  He tried to tell us as much as he could about Bucky's death but even what he did say was too much for the censors as someone had blackened over whole sentences.  Included was the last picture taken of the two of them before it happened. All we knew for sure is that he fell into a mountain ravine that was several hundred feet deep.  There was no possibility that he survived the fall and no chance that they could get down to the bottom to retrieve his body for burial as the area was still under enemy control.  In a way, it was worse knowing that Bucky died alone.  Guilt was eating away at Steve's soul; that much was evident in his letter.  For all of his abilities he felt like he had failed to keep his best friend safe, and he blamed himself for Bucky's death.

Together we wrote Steve, as much to thank him for being witness to the event, as well as for writing us what he could about it.  We spoke of the end of the war coming sooner, rather than later, and told him we loved him like a son.  George posted it on his way to work.  A week later it was all over the newspapers that Steve had gone missing, and was presumed dead himself, in a heroic act of self-sacrifice.  The letter we sent him was returned, enclosed in a box that contained Bucky's possessions as well as Steve's as he had designated us his next of kin. 

We received both of their life insurance payouts, not that we wanted it.  Part of the money went to a memorial for both of them in Green-wood Cemetery and we visited there every Memorial and Veterans Day.  When Rebecca went to nursing college in 1948 her tuition was paid from that life insurance.  So was her wedding to Harvey Proctor in 1954.  When George passed away in 1965, I was able to purchase a plot for both of us near the boy's memorial.  I continued to live in our brownstone as it was all paid for.

Over the years I received the occasional visit from a British woman, Peggy Carter, who was friends with both Steve and Bucky.  She was a lovely lady and told me that both men were pivotal in fighting against a division of the Nazis that were even more evil than those villains.  In the summer of 1971, I called her when I found something inside the screen door at the entrance to my back stoop.  It was a beautiful day and I wanted to open the window on the door to let in some fresh air.  At the bottom of the doorway, stuck in between the inner and outer door was a copy of The Hobbit, a used paperback copy.  Inside it was cash, over a hundred dollars.  There were also a pair of hand knit socks.  Out on the stoop was a handmade cloth bag, like the type hippies used.  The truly puzzling thing that I called Peggy about was an inscription inside the book.

"To James, May you be free to find your own Eden.  Seth and Summer."

She looked at it, a small frown on her brow.  "What do you think it means, Mrs. Barnes?" she asked.

"Well, Bucky loved The Hobbit," I said.  "He must have read it many times over the years, and I know he took it with him to Europe because it was in the possessions returned to us.  James was Bucky's Christian name.  It means "the one who follows."  What if ... what if Bucky survived but he lost his memories and somehow found his way home finally.  Perhaps this is his way to say he's still alive but he's not free to make it known yet, not until he finds peace."

"Does that give you comfort?" asked Peggy kindly, looking into my eyes.

I sighed and gave a sad smile.  "I found comfort many years ago, when I accepted Bucky and Steve's death, and began to believe in God again.  But this, it makes me wonder and question if Bucky really did die.  If he didn't then where has he been and why leave this here now?  Why didn't he knock on the door and come home?"

"Perhaps it's as you said," replied Peggy.  "He needs to find peace first.  Maybe he just wanted to know that you were alright and not in any danger."  I picked up on that and looked sharply at Carter.  "Keep the book, the bag and the money.  Don't tell anyone else about it, not even your daughter.  Thank you for letting me know about it."

She wouldn't say anything more about it and took her leave.  I had the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on, but it seemed like she didn't want to give me false hope or something.  Whoever left it, even if it was a lost hippie that maybe took refuge in my yard one night, would have been welcome in my home.  They wouldn't even have had to pay me as I believed in helping people who needed help, period.  If it was Bucky, I hoped he was alright and wished that he had let me look on his face, even if it was for just an instance.  To see his eyes and smile again would have gladdened my heart considerably.

Part 7>>

Series Masterlist

Please reblog if you liked this.