#pea gravel drive way

[shinjuutokyo]

Wood Exterior Huge elegant brown two-story wood exterior home photo with a hip roof

[bunnys-kisses]

boxers

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut/pwp, boxing au, boxer!simon, injury/bruises, protective!simon, size difference, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, gentle sex, simon luvs his missus,

you liked strong men. strong however was a broad definition. thought a man could be strong in a lot of ways, not just physical. strong convictions, strong emotionally, there were many examples.

but when you started seeing simon, you were enthralled by his physical strength. he wasn't some eight pack having, dehydrated mess. he was bulky, which was good for what he did.

punch the living daylights out of other boxers.

wide shoulders, a softness in his stomach, strong arms with one lined with tattoos. not to mention those thighs, he could crush a watermelon with them if you asked nicely (no, he wasn't going to crush your head). the facial scars add a scary look as did those dark eyes of his.

despite it, simon was a total sap.

at least to you, no one else. god forbid johnny or any of the others. but when it was just the two of you, he was a big puppy. you once described him as a huge german shepherd who thought he was a lap dog.

simon simply said, "just be glad i don't wanna sit on your lap, love. i'll break ya." then pulled you to him to give you a kiss on the forehead. he'd never hurt you though, he'd rather take his own life than yours.

and you loved him back, even with his loud snoring, you still adored him. you thought that he was the perfect boyfriend. which was why it hurt so much when he came home late at night with bruises on his face.

"si."

he dropped his bag and let you get in his arms. he kissed the top of your head lovingly. and welcomed your embrace. the man had enough fractures and scars. so to see another shiny bruise only left you feeling sad.

you brought him to the kitchen by his hand and sat him down at the kitchen table. he looked so large in the small space, which really highlighted your size difference.

"c'mon, pretty thing." he said as held out his arms to you.

you looked over your shoulder from the freezer, "give me a second, honey. i need to find the frozen peas."

simon groaned. he wanted to touch his woman. he cursed the universe that the frozen peas were in the back of the freezer. you managed to grab the bag before you turned to your boyfriend.

you sat in his lap and pressed the frozen vegetable to his bruised face, "poor baby." you cooed as you gave the bag to him.

he hissed a little at the feeling of it against the heat of the bruise. you rested your head on top of his and held him close to your chest

"do i need to talk to anyone?"

he chuckled, "no, love. i just need you right now. i wanna feel my woman." he nuzzled up against your chest. he even kissed the little gold chain around your neck.

eventually the peas started to melt and you put them back in the freezer. however with your back turned to your lover, you didn't notice his approach towards you.

he cornered you against the fridge with his large, scarred hands on your hips. he let out a shudder, "i need you." his voice sounded a little strained.

you swallowed as you kept your hands on the front of the fridge. you could feel his cock pressed against your ass. the rush was the fight was wearing off, but he needed another release.

"you could've just asked, riley."

he curved his back over you to lean in to kiss your neck. his hands traveled north to your breasts and groped them. the flesh filled his hands, his grip was a little rough. but, you didn't mind that.

"i know, love. but i couldn't find the words. i just needed you." his voice was like driving over gravel. it left you hot all over.

you blushed a bit at his words. you turned so you front was facing him. you took his face in your hands and brought him in to kiss his bruise. you said, "si-"

"please." he said as he curled an arm around you middle and brought you closer to him. your hands were splayed across his broad chest. he pulled you into a kiss and you had to get on your tip-toes to meet his lips.

he held you by your middle, his strong arms draped around your waist. he groaned against the kiss, "mine." his voice was as light as it could be.

you really had no choice. it was either you fucked on the bed or up against the fridge. and you knew the landlord would not want to deal with that. so you got out of your boxer boyfriend's grasp and took him by the hand. then you practically dragged him to your shared bedroom.

his eyes were on you as you walked. he felt his cock stir in his pants. you were just so good to him. you were the perfect girl for him. it made him smirk to himself even if it did hurt a little.

he watched your beautiful body on display for him as you tugged off the oversized shirt (that belonged to simon) and baggy sweatpants (that were yours, because his were two sizes too big!). he put his hands on your hips, feeling the softness under his finger tips.

he leaned in a down at you and kissed your cheek. he squeezed your hips and groaned against you, "pretty girl." you trailed your fingers through his blond hair.

your core throbbed for him, your heart leapt when he got a better grip on you and almost tossed you onto the bed. you bounced a little and laughed. "simon! no need!"

"i need ya love, you were takin' too long." he quickly got his shirt off. he hit his nose in the hustle of it all, but was too wrapped up in his deep lust for you that he didn't even wince at the pain, "c'mon, love. either you get them off, or i'm rippin' em of!"

usually he liked to slowly take off your bra and panties, but tonight was an inferno. a huge fire that burned in his core. his heart thumped as he go the buckle of his belt off and he slid the leather off from his waist. he watched you hastily get your underwear off and laid underneath him.

"i wanna see my girl on top." he said as he leaned in for a searing kiss and grabbed you to put you on top of him while he laid on the bed. you were both naked, two pieces of the same puzzle.

you moved so your pussy brushed up against him. he let out a choked groan as you didn't fully sink down him. he could feel his heart up into his throat.

it should be illegal for you to do that, and punishment for it is to get dicked down for five hours.

"like that, si?"

"if i wasn't so worry about breakin' ya, you'd already be ridin' it." he loved when you were on top. the sight of your eyes on him as you hold onto him for a leverage as you rode him.

"si." you smiled as you splayed your hands on his chest and sank down onto his cock. you could feel your heart in your throat as you sank yourself down on his impressive size. you choked out a moan and felt the pleasure pollute your head.

"that's it, baby girl." he said softly. his voice was a rumble in the back of your head like thunder. he guided your hips. he wanted to see close to his missus.

your big scary boyfriend. close to being the number one fighter in the league. the big shot. the ghost. there he laid under you, his eyes closed and his body melting into the bed. his hands your hips as he slowly guided them up and down. your cunt felt like a comfortable vice around him, he could hear the hitch in your breathing when he hit just the right spot.

what a beauty, the most loveliest woman he had ever laid his eyes on. that's why you were his woman, the only one he wanted. through hell and high water, to the moon and back. he kept his hand steady on your waist as you moved up and down on his cock.

you could hear your heart thumping in your ears from the blood rush of having sex with him. the most handsome man you ever had the privilege of loving. you held onto him for support as you raised and lowered your hips against pelvis.

you felt the curl of pleasure in your gut as his cock prodded at your most intimate parts. he felt so right. that was your man, as you leaned in and kissed him on the lips, you felt the inferno in your gut.

you felt hot and heavy all over, you felt the rush of pleasure echo through your body as you moved against him. he was your simon, the bloodied boxer, the ghost of the ring. he came home to you every night, he kissed you until you fell asleep in his arms, he brought you home flowers on tuesdays and always cooked dinner on sundays.

that was your charming bloke who punched people for a living. with his scars on his cheeks and lips, the crookedness of his nose, those piercing brown eyes and all the love he could give you. while he didn't believe it was much, it was more than you ever wanted.

"si"

"love."

you pulled him in for another hot kiss as you bounced more on his cock. the stabbing of his cock in you made you feel lightheaded, there was so much to fit in you. everything about simon felt big, from the meat on his shoulders to the width of them. his strong arms that were now wrapped around your middle, to of course his cock that was filling any gap in your pussy.

you dug your nails into his tanned skin and you let out a loud moan as simon clutched onto you and continued to push his cock up into you. it made you see stars as he moved.

"that's my woman." he huffed, "bright beauty." his voice drew as he bounced you on his cock. even if the pain in his face was still there, the sight and feeling of you around his cock managed to dull the pain. who thought pussy was a good cure for a bruise.

he pulled you closer to him, until your chest was against his. simon bent his knees and got a different angle to hit the back of your soaked cunt, "been thinkin' about my missus all evening. probably why my game got thrown off. was thinkin' about this sweet treat rather than johnny's punches." he chuckled as he managed to fuck you faster.

you whined, you didn't want to be the cause of simon getting hurt. but he quieted you down with a searing kiss. he didn't need to hear that, he wanted to hear your pussy getting fucked by him.

the angle made your head a little dizzy as you tried to keep some more of control. but it was too late, simon had already dominated your little pussy yet again. it was alright though, the feeling left shivers through your body.

he continued to make out with you, the kisses were sloppy and needy. it made your cunt ache as he rocked into you. the bed shifted under you two as you continued to make love.

simon loved you. he'd never hurt a hair on your head, even a chipped nail was a cause of concern for him. he kissed at you hot face as he felt you grow tense around him.

a few hard thrusts later and you were clamping down on him, orgasm pulled from you and you felt hot all over. the pleasure left your head swimming. you panted wildly as he continued to move against you.

he gave you filthy praise as he felt his own orgasm come over him. with a heavy thrust into you, he slammed his cock all the way into you and finished. spurts of cum hit the inside of your pussy and he left out a harsh grunt.

he dropped his arms down onto the bed and laid fully out. you clung to him and his cum clung to your pussy lips. you both laid there, basking in each other's embrace.

you leaned up and kissed him gently on his bruise, "my boxer." your fingers dragged down his chest, "you have to be careful. i hate when my man gets hurt." you kissed him on the cheek under the bruise, "i need you to come back to me in one piece."

simon's cock soon slipped out of your pussy and you softly kissed him on the lips. he said to you between kisses, "i always come home to my love. i love you so much." his words were like honey that melted to your core.

you laid in each other's hold. he had been a fighter all his life, but now he was simply yours. wrapped up in the comforts of bed, the bruises would heal but your love for him would be eternal. <3

[toxicbrothel]

POV

Joel has to drive somewhere, and Carter is busy. It’s just you and Joel, and you’re taking the smaller van. As Joel gets in the driver’s seat, for the first time he tells you to buckle up. It feels silly, given everything that’s happened in this van while it was moving, but you do it anyway. The road is mostly quiet, and you never see another car. It feels weird having a seat all to yourself, but seeing Joel drive really turns you on. His massive triceps casually flex with every turn. His thick thighs shake a little on the bumpy road. Joel looks over at you and does a double take, allowing himself the hint of a smile. 

“What?” you ask. 

He shakes his head as though to brush it off, then says. “The way you were lookin’ at me.” His nose pulls downward and he bites his lip like he might actually laugh otherwise. It gives you such a burst of joy that you could cry if you dwelled on it too long. 

“How was I looking?” you smile. 

He shakes his head. His nose twitches again. 

“How?” you plead. 

“. . . Like,” he shrugs.  “Like you’re . . .watchin’ a movie, or somethin’.”

You shrink into your dress to hide your smile, embarrassed of how wide it is, and for something so simple to make you so happy. It’s wrong to feel happy when you’re driving by pits full of skeletons and rotted clothes, you think. Looking out the window, looking at anything but Joel, is a reality check, but you can’t keep your eyes away long. 

You bring your left knee up on the seat and turn toward him, resting the upper left side of your head on the headrest as you watch. “I never see you drive, you know.” 

“Guess not,” he agrees. 

“I like how you do it.”

He reaches over and pets the crown of your head, and his eyes travel down your body before he returns his hand to the wheel. “Dress looks good on ya."

“I love it,” you gush. You fiddle with the hem and look down. There's that sting and pressure behind your eyes again. It’s the fact that he picked it up for you, back when he used to leave you at the trailer. And he didn’t give it to you until now. He wasn’t sure you’d like it, he said. Then, on this unseasonably warm day, he finally took it out of the bottom of one of his drawers. Like it was always in the back of his mind--you'd like to know what else is back there.

Unshed tears begin to blur your vision, and when you blink, the tears web your lashes. Joel notices. He watches you for a second and your lip quivers. He looks at the road again. You bring your knee down from the seat and look straight ahead, and when you blink again, one rolls down. Joel draws in a slow breath through his nose and looks at you as he exhales. You wipe your eyes with your fingers, then glance at him, brow furrowed, and quickly shake your head like you don’t wanna talk about it.

He nods in agreement and goes back to watching the road. A few seconds later, he looks at you again and puts his hand on your thigh. His voice takes on a soothing tone. “I know, sweet pea.” After a minute, he opens his mouth to say something, but doesn't. 

He rubs your thigh, then squeezes it. You nod and take a deep breath.

He adjusts his head on the headrest, looking pensively at the road. He's driving with one hand. He makes everything look so easy.

Sitting side by side, with what feels like a massive gap in between, even though he can reach you. . . It suddenly feels wronger than ever. You feel strange and exposed without your bodies together. 

“I feel weird in this seat,” you admit and wish it didn’t come out whiny. 

As soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, he takes his foot off the gas and the white noise of the gravel becomes slower, more soothing as he pulls off the road. He parks on the grass, surveys the area in silence for a few seconds, then turns off the engine. He gets out and gently closes the door. You take off your seatbelt while he’s coming around to your side.

You start to open the passenger door, and he opens it the rest of the way. You scoot to the edge of the seat and he leans into the van. You wrap your arms around his neck and his hands on your back pull you even more toward the edge. “It’s okay, I got ya,” he murmurs. You wrap your legs loosely around him, and he pulls you flush. A moan slips out when you feel him against you. You lift your chin, and when your lips brush his beard, he tilts his head down. His lips quickly find yours, and he moans quietly into your mouth as his embrace tightens.

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Thank you so much for reading! And ty for the photo, Lum! 🌸🫛 💕

I imagine she picks the flower at some point on this trip as well.

[grogusmum]

Hey Lovely Hazel! 🖤

Happy Saturday evening to you and sending lots of love your way!

I'm here to challenge you with Pedro Boy ficlet, let's see now... let's go for Dieter!

He's excited!

Love you! 🖤

Thank you my darling Jett! I hope you are having a good Saturday! 💚

Okay, this is connected to another lil 300-word doodad I wrote soon after The Bubble came out.

I got carried away, I had some of this worked out before, so a 300-500 word thing turned into 1300 oops!

Dieter was excited. He was trying to keep his cool, but it had been weeks since he had seen his sweet pea! But this time, he notices someone else... you.

🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐

“I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Anika looks up expectantly.

“Do you have the number for the therapy animal people?”

In his suite, Dieter looks around at the mess, turning a circle at the center of the room. The paint, the drugs, wine and liquor bottles, his clothes, KitKat wrappers. The only area clean is the space set aside for his fitness mirror, which he looks at sheepishly, then throws a towel over it. 

Pressing his lips together as he makes his decision, he gets to work. He cleans up the most offending messes, then calls housekeeping for new sheets and towels, and a bathroom clean up and vacuuming, before heading back to the lobby to meet with the goat lady.

Dieter had called right away, and asked about Skipper, and if he could book another session with him. The woman he spoke with was very kind. She was the main trainer and creator of the therapy program, she explained it ran out of a larger farm owned by her family. She wished aloud that he could come to the farm, he would get an earlier slot… Dieter told her he would happily pay any fee for expediting his session. She relented, telling him she remembered how he connected with Skipper and she thought he could miss the next group and go to visit Dieter. She would bring him herself.

You drive your jeep since it's just one small animal, Skipper bleats quietly back in his crate. Thinking back to the day at the hotel, Dieter's reaction to the baby goat was not entirely unusual, especially these days. But you felt for him, it seemed like he was releasing a lot. So you weren't surprised to get his call. He had offered an exorbitant amount of money, but you told him you'd gladly accept an additional fee, but that his offer was far too much. You thought, sure it's a business and it has to keep making money but it is for helping people. And he seemed to need it.

Before you know it you are on the grounds, at the gate you show your credentials, get the Covid rapid test, and the safety protocols spiel. You park, pull a large duffle out of the backseat, and put Skipper on a leash. You let him relieve himself, then put a water bowl down so he can have a drink before getting to work.

You look up at the front doors and you see Dieter watching, his body language tells you he is excited but trying to be patient.  

Skipper finishes his water break and you start up the gravel drive toward him.

Dieter has been practicing his spiel to convince you to sell Skipper to him. He doesn't know if he's going to pull the trigger on it, but he wants to be ready. 

You put on your mask and approached the actor. 

"Mr Bravo, nice to see you again."

"Hey, uh, hi," Dieter says looking a little needy. 

You don't usually do this, but since its one on one, you hand him the leash.

Dieter lights up like a Christmas tree, so different from the first time. He starts talking to Skipper as the three of you walk to the side lawn-

"Hey Sweet Pea! I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you." 

He gets ahead of you so you can't quite make out all he says. But it's animated and happy.

Skipper was still determining where he was going but he likes to be with you, so having you on his own was exciting. When he was taken out of the jeep he recognized where he was a little. The smell, the cobblestones. He saw you look toward the big building so he looked to… was that the Fluffy Guy? 

It was. Well, he needs all the help he can get from what Skipper could see. 

The goat looked from you to Dieter as you passed the leash to him. 

Is this wise, mama? he thought. 

"...I've missed you." 

It's okay, guy. I'm here, what are we doing today?

"I really want to adopt you… but I don't know if the therapy woman will let me."

This is nothing new, pal. Everyone wants to adopt me…

Skipper bleats up at Dieter and Dieter is beside himself. He sits down on the grass and starts to pet Skipper's flank. You soon catch up and sit down with him. When you've both settled, Skipper climbs onto Dieter's lap. The man's eyebrows lift and his mouth is a small "o". Then his eyes get wet. As Dieter tries to pull himself together, you put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to go over and sit on the patio. Mr. Bravo, you be you, talk to Skip, and if you want to cry, cry. This is what he is here for."

Dieter gives a grateful nod and hugs Skipper, the goat bleats happily. 

"Would you want to live with me?" Dieter wonders. "No, why would you… fffu- sorry Sweet Pea, I shouldn't curse. I just, it's only-"

Dieter growls in frustration. Skipper bleats and twists his head to see him.

You watch from the patio, Dieter's body language has changed, so you stand. 

“Mr Bravo, is everything alright?”

Dieter lets out a breath, continuing to scratch the kid’s rump.

“I want to buy Swe- ah Skipper. I’ve really never- I don’t know I just- I will pay you anything!”

“Mr Brav-”

“Dieter, please, call me Deiter.”

“Dieter”, you say gently, putting an equally gentle hand on his arm. “I am not going to sell you Skipper, I’m very sorry.” 

His crest-fallen face pulled at your heart. 

“Okay let's do this-” You open your duffle bag and pull out two yoga mats. “Do you do any yoga, Mist- I mean Dieter?”

Dieter shrugs, his pout makes you smirk, a man who is used to getting what he wants if he throws enough money at it, but he does stand and assume a stance with his legs shoulders width apart. Skipper knows the drill, he did the moment you unfurled the mats- he loves goat yoga!

Soon enough Dieter is giggling as Skipper insinuates himself in all of Dieter's poses. But far from getting in Dieter's way or anything, Skipper finds where he needs to balance, and its not unlike getting a massage at the same time, as Skipper’s hooves dig into knots. But Dieter was starting to be taken by you as well, your quiet praise, and with a completely unnecessary request for permission to touch him, some hands-on adjustments to some of his poses. Soft and warm but also assertive, you touched his hips shoulders, and back with assured purpose. 

After some water and downtime, Dieter paints with Skipper in his lap, and finally, you hand him a stiff bristle brush to groom Skipper with.

Yes, fluffy Guy! My favorite!! Now just let me nibble your fluff and we are golden.

Dieter brushes the little goat and you and he chat idly. 

Dieter feels fantastic, but sad, as you leash Skipper and hoist your bag over your shoulder. You decline when Dieter offers to take it and hand him the lease. His boyish grin gives you a little jolt of something, you aren't quite sure about. He’s handsome, and you truly enjoyed your time with him today, but you’ve seen the articles - he is a walking Hollywood disaster story… but-

He reluctantly hands you the lease as you come to the jeep. 

“Thank you,” his voice is low and quiet, “That was- that was amazing.”

“You and Skip did some great work together.”

“You were great too.”

Why is heat rising in your cheeks? Skipper looks up curiously at you and if goats could smirk, he would.

“Thank you.”

“How much would it cost to convince you to come once a week?” 

🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐

thanks for this ask, Jett! It kind of kicked my butt in gear to get this little thing out of my WIPs, for good or bad. lol 💚

[standardquip]

The New Front yard

See the new back yard

Overview of front yard. In red mulch: lilacs to the left, surrounded by hydrangea and some phlox. baptisia and butterfly bushes line the front, miscellaneous plants lining the drive way (but the big ones are lavender) on the right.

Center left: rock garden with cactus and sedum. Center right, dirt with various ground covers in lieu of grass: speedwell, 2 types of thyme, and (iirc) bell flowers. Small garden around the well house, which is a turtle statue on top of an overturned planter.

There's also 2 weigelia and 2 honey suckle bushes near the red mulch in the center/right area.

I don't have any good "before" photos, but it was all overgrown grass (I am not a good maintainer of things). 98% of the plants were planted last year just in the grass. The past 2 weeks, I:

Rented a rear tine tiller and tilled most of the yard for 5 hours to get rid of most of the grass

plucked out a lot of the other grass by hand with help from my mom

added landscape fabric and then mulch to 3-4 areas (the stone and the red mulch)

added landscape edging (stone garden area and area around the lilac)

used pea gravel to make a stone garden(? dryscape? xeriscape? idk the right word here). I also added the "boulders" (really just large flat rocks from the back yard then propped around cement blocks)

planted a few (but not many) new large plants

planted a ton of new ground cover in the center area that is currently only dirt

I feel it's important to note that I do not intend to keep up with the mulch. The (long-term) goal is to have the groundcover overtake everything. The mulch is, for now, just to keep a lot of the area safe from grass returning. I couldn't till around the plants without damaging them. So this was the compromise (As I said before, almost all the plants were planted last year).

Also, in the very front of the yard - it is mostly moss and sedum (although there is some grass, too). I did spread a lot of clover seed, but I did it directly over what is currently there. The clover seed already started germinating, but we'll see if it takes over the front.

I did not plant anything nice there because the snow plows will tear it up.

[anglophiletraveler]

In My Life

Chapter 25

Our couple finally makes it to Nampara, and it doesn’t take long for tensions to rise.  Coming home isn’t always easy for anyone.  Thank you to Karen Bockius for once again helping me along.   I’ve had this chapter done for a bit, but strep throat has kept me from posting it sooner. My apologies in advance to anyone who likes mushy peas!   Enjoy!

Baby, You Can Drive My Car

As they got closer to Nampara, Ross was pointing out what was their land, who lived where, whose sheep were whose.   Finally, he pulled into a long drive with a stone wall on each side.  There was a gate at the beginning of the drive that was probably a grand thing years ago, but now it was rusty and had wild vines growing all over it from lack of use.  Ross slowed the car down, the gravel under the tires making a familiar sound to his ears.  Soon they came to a part of the drive where trees were lining the stone walls, their taller branches leaning over the drive, the sun peaking through the branches giving it a mystical look like they were entering a secret castle or fortress.  

“Oh Ross this is so magical!”

Ross looked at her smile and that made him smile.  “Magical?  Guess I never thought of it that way.” 

Soon the trees opened up to a semi-circle drive that almost seemed out of place for an ancient home such as this one.  Demelza thought that maybe Joshua had added it in later years for convenience.  Even in winter, Demelza could tell that Grace had a large flower bed in the middle of it.  Ross parked the car in the circle and shut off the engine.  He gave a big sigh and looked at Dem.  He grabbed her hand and kissed it.  “You’ll be alright Ross.  I’m here for you.”  He just shook his head at her in response.  They got out of the car much to Seamus’s relief and happiness.  He happily went to do his business and then checked out the ground and the flower beds to see what animals might be inhabiting the place.  Demelza was checking out the large house. The main house was all stone with ivy growing in different parts.  She could hear the sheep and chickens off in the distance.  Smoke was coming out of the chimney indicating to Ross that his father had a fire going.  The front door was painted green to match the shutters, with a Christmas wreath hanging on it.  There wasn’t a large porch, just a step to the door.  “You know Ross, you painted a picture of this place being a tiny cottage, but this is anything but tiny!  It’s beautiful and huge!!  You could fit the house I grew up in here four times over!”    She looked over at Ross.  “And I have to say Ross, I am a bit disappointed that the servants weren’t lined up to greet us!”  That got a smile out of him and a small laugh.  “Sorry, I’ll have them work on that for next time.”  

Then as if on cue, Prudie came running out of the front door yelling, “Master Ross, Master Ross!!  Oh Lord!  It be that grand to see yer face at last!”  

Ross wrapped his arms around the short, round ball of dough wearing an apron, “Prudie!  It’s so good to see you!  You haven’t changed a bit.”  He looked over Prudie’s head to find Demelza giving him a smirk. He had forgotten how short his second mother was.   

Prudie pulled away from Ross.  “Now let me get a good look at ye.  What ye got, a growth eatin at yer face I see, yer hair’s longer, but no worse for the wear, I can trim that up for ye if ye like.”  She turned to look at Demelza.  “Now this must be the beauty that I’ve ‘erd so much ‘bout.”

Ross made the introductions, “Demelza this is Prudie, Prudie please meet Demelza, the heart of my life.” 

Demelza held out her hand to shake Prudie’s hands, but Prudie was having none of it.  “Oh nay maid, we don’t shake ‘ands here.  Come ‘ere and give ol Prudie a hug.”  Prudie pulled Demelza in for a huge hug.  Demelza’s arms were down at her side, and she was looking at Ross with a look on her face pleading for help.  She finally raised her arms to return the hug to ol Prudie.  

“It’s nice to finally meet you Prudie.  I’ve heard so much about you and your husband.”

“Aye, well you’ll meet the old coot later.  He’s out working on the fence.  Well c’mon Ross bring your bags in and let’s get you all settled.”

“Yes ma’am.”  Ross answered.  Demelza carried the cello while Ross got the bags.

Prudie took a look at the cello case, “Wha be that?  You carryin’ machine guns or somethin?”

That made Demelza and Ross laugh.  “No, Prudie.  Demelza is a classical musician.  She plays the cello in the BBC Orchestra.”

“Oh my, fancy.  I’d help you carry it in but with my back I better not.  But I’ll hold the door open fer ye.”

“No worries, I’m used to carrying it around on my own Prudie.  But the door would be lovely.” Demelza added.

“Ol Prudie will put the ket’le on.  We’ve got biscuits and some cakes for ya after yer long travels.  C’mon on Master Ross don’t dawdle.”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming Prudie!  Oh and we have the groceries that we were told to pick up for you.  Where’s mum?” 

“She’s inside waitin’ for ya!”

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

Demelza had walked into Nampara first, cello in hand, looking for a safe place to put it.  

Grace came walking out from the back of the house, “Demelza!!  It’s so good to see you again!  I’m so sorry that I didn’t meet you at the door.”  She reached up to give Demelza a hug.  Demelza was thinking that she didn’t remember Grace being so small before.  

“Oh no worries.  It’s good to see you Grace!  Where shall I put my cello?”

 “Oh how about Joshua's study.  It should be safe in there.  Prudie, take Demelza back to the study please, and show her around.”

“Yes, Mrs. Grace.  C’mon along maid, I’ll show you where to put your machine guns.”

Demelza laughed at Prudie and Grace just shook her head.

Ross finally brought the last load of groceries into the kitchen, Seamus following him in.  Ross looked around the kitchen.  Nothing had changed.  He was glad that his mother hadn’t renovated the kitchen in any way except for newer appliances, although newer meant five years old.  But they still had the same old black gas stove with two large ovens and six burners.  Plenty of space for cooking large holiday meals.  The same round cookie jar that looked like an Italian chef complete with pencil thin moustache, sat on the counter of the pine cupboards.  An electric tea kettle had replaced the copper one years ago that used to sit on a burner at the ready.   The same wooden kitchen table with one long bench seat on one side and three chairs on the opposite side.  The same curtains hanging on the window.  Ross could smell dinner in the oven and the newly baked biscuits and cakes.  He could feel the comfort from the familiarity.  

“Ross!”  Grace walked up to her son, opening her arms for a hug.  “Oh I’m so glad that you’re finally home.  I’ve missed you.  Just leave those bags, Prudie can put everything away.”  Ross quickly grabbed the bag that held Demelza’s supplies.

“Mama you just saw me last week!”  He looked at her face looking for any sign of change and noticed she looked tired, and pulled her in for another hug.

“Oh but it’s not the same as having ya home, at Nampara, my handsome.  I’ve just missed you so.  I bet it’s been a year since you’ve been here last.”

Ross looked at his mother’s face and noticed the wetness in his mother’s eyes, and it pulled at his heart.  “Mama, I’ve been busy with work, and then I met Demelza, and…”

“Oh, I know, I know.  You’ve got a life up there of your own, but don’t begrudge a mother to miss her son.  Now, take your bags up into our old room upstairs.”  

“Wait, into your room?  Aren’t you and da sleeping in your room?” Ross questioned.

“No, we moved our bedroom down here months ago.  We got tired of using the stairs all the time, so we turned that back room behind the study into a bedroom and en suite.  It’s much nicer not to crawl up those ol stairs at night.”

“Really?  You never mentioned that you did that.  That’s got to be a much smaller bedroom for the two of you?”

“No, that's all we need.  Your dad hired Zacky to do some work back there.  He added a bathroom onto the bedroom, so that’s nice to have close.” Grace noticed Ross staring at her.

“I ran into Zacky at the supermarket.  He acted very strange.  How about you telling me what’s really going on around here?  Please mama?”

Grace motioned for them to sit down at the kitchen table.  She grabbed Ross’s hands in an effort to give him strength, but it really was to give herself the strength she needed to get through the conversation.

She finally looked up at Ross’s eyes. The time had finally come to tell her son the truth about her health.  She took a deep breath.  “Ross, I have breast cancer.  The doctors feel they’ve caught it in time, it’s only stage two.”  Grace could see Ross’s eyes well up with tears.  “Now I don’t want you worrying about me.  I’m going to be just fine.  It’s just, the treatment can be a little rough sometimes.”

Ross couldn’t help himself.  He had to hug her and hold onto her as if that was going to stop the cancer from growing.  “I knew it.  I knew something had been wrong for a while now, and you weren’t telling me.  I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me about something like this!”

Grace tried to settle him down.  She knew he would take it hard.  “I was just waiting for the right time.  The doctor said the best thing for me is not to have any stress, and I didn’t want you and your da fighting over me right now.”

“Was it papa’s idea to keep all of this from me?”  Ross asked.

“What?  No, it was my idea.  I told your father not to tell you until I was ready.  I didn’t want to spoil things for you, especially at Christmas.  I was afraid of this, please don’t blame your father.”

“Well, what do the doctors say?  What about treatment?”  The son asked his mother.

“Like, I said, it’s stage two, so the doctors think that we caught it in time.   I’m getting radiation treatments to shrink the tumour so it’s easier to remove it when they go in.  But, I’ve been thinking about everything, and weighing my options.  The more I think about it,  I’m going to go ahead with a mastectomy, a double mastectomy and have them remove everything.”

Ross looked at her amazed at how calm she was telling him everything, but that was just like her, to be the calm before the storm.  “A double mastectomy?  You mean both…” he gestured to his own chest since he couldn’t dare say the word breasts.

“Yes, both breasts,” Grace said.  “It gives me a better chance of the cancer not returning.  Plus, I’m not a young bird anymore, it’s not like I need them.”

“Mama!” Ross covered his face with his hands in embarrassment at his mother being blunt with him.  This made her smile.

********

While mother and son were talking in the kitchen, Joshua had come in the house through the back door and heard low voices in the kitchen.  He walked quietly so as not to disturb them when he realised that the voices belonged to Ross and Grace.  Demelza and Prudie had walked in the room behind Joshua and he signalled to them to not go any further.  All three went back to Joshua’s study and sat down.

Joshua could tell that Demelza wasn’t sure what was going on, so he explained it to her.  “Grace has breast cancer, and she’s talking to Ross about it right now so I thought it was best to leave the two of them alone.”

Demelza let out a gasp, “Oh Joshua, I’m so sorry.  To be honest, Ross has felt something like this was going on and was getting very upset that nobody would tell him about it.  We ran into Ross’s friend Zacky at the supermarket and he acted strangely with Ross.  It really upset him.  It took me a while, but I was finally able to get him calmed down enough to drive.”

Joshua sighed.  “I was afraid of something like that happening.  I have been trying to get Grace to tell Ross about it for weeks now, but she kept insisting on not telling him.”

“Why?  Why would she do that?” Demelza asked.

“She kept saying that it wasn’t the right time, that Ross was busy with work.  Then he hurt his foot.  She didn’t want to interrupt your new relationship with Ross.  Then Christmas came and I tried to talk her into telling him then, but she used the excuse that she didn’t want to ruin the holiday for everyone.  It was her decision, and she made me promise not to tell him.  I didn’t have the right to break my promise as much as I wanted to.  But the treatment is really starting to have its toll on her and she’s frail right now.  She finally decided that she had to tell him this weekend,”  Joshua explained, his head lowered.  

Demelza could see how much this was affecting Joshua.  She could see the same worry lines on his face that Ross had at times.  

“If I may ask Joshua, how far along is the cancer?”

Joshua cleared his throat, “When they found it, it was stage two which the doctors have said is good.  They’re giving her radiation treatments right now to shrink the tumour before they operate.  But Grace told me that she’s been thinking about the surgery, and wants to have a double mastectomy to give her better odds of remission.  Those treatments are rough, they take a lot out of her.  It… it breaks my heart to see her going through this.”  Demelza could see that he was trying not to cry.  She moved closer to him so that she could rub his back.  Prudie was in the corner wiping tears from her face.  

Joshua continued, “If I could take this pain from her I would.  I wish that it was me that had cancer and not her.  Not my Grace.  She’s my life.  I’m nothing without her.”  Joshua was starting to break down.  For weeks he had kept this to himself and hadn’t let Grace see him cry, but now with Demelza in the room he just couldn’t hold it in any longer.  Demelza was hugging him now to try to give him some comfort.  

“I’m so sorry Joshua.  If there’s anything that Ross and I can do, please let us know.  You’re not alone in this.  And it sounds like she’s getting the best treatment possible, so I’m sure she’ll recover.”

*******    

Grace was wiping the tears from Ross’s face like she did when he was a little boy.  A mother comforting her son.  She did a lot of this after Claude died when Ross would blame himself for his death.

“Now my handsome, take that bag that you’re trying to hide, and the rest of your things upstairs before you embarrass Demelza with it.”  She smiled at her son when he realised that he couldn’t hide anything from her.

“Yes, mama.”  He kissed his mum on the cheek before he headed upstairs.

Grace watched him leave the room and let out a big sigh.  Now the cancer feels real Grace thought to herself.  

********

Demelza found Ross sitting on the bed in the master bedroom.  Ross looked up when he heard the creaking of the old wooden floor.  He stood up so he could hold Demelza and cry for the third time that day.  Demelza was tenderly rubbing her hand over Ross’s back.  He finally pulled away from her so that they could both sit down on the bed.  Demelza found some tissue for him to use.  

Ross let out a big sigh.  His face and eyes were red and swollen from crying.  “Mama has breast cancer.”

Demelza nodded her head, “Your father told me.  I’m so sorry Ross.  Your da said the doctors are hopeful they caught it early enough.”  

“Demelza, I’m sure you think I’m a mama’s boy for crying like this.  I can’t help it, the thought of losing her… I just can’t lose her. I can’t!!  I feel like everything is slipping away from me.”

Demelza got on the floor so she could sit on her knees right in front of Ross.  She put her hands on his face.  “Ross Vennor Poldark you look at me.  You don’t ever have to apologise to me for crying about the illness of a loved one, particularly your mother.  You are so lucky to have her in your life.  I miss my mum so much, but she wasn’t happy on this earth so I had to let her go.  But you and I are going to help your mum fight this, you hear me!  Your mum is a tough woman and she’s strong, and we have to be there to help her when she’s not strong and pick her up and carry her.  She’s going to beat this.  I know she is.”

Ross looked at his love with those puppy dog eyes, “Do you really think she can?”

“I know it, Ross.  We just have to be strong for her and have faith.  Can you do that?”

Ross shook his head, “I’ll try my best.  I’m so grateful that I have you by my side.  Dwight can help explain the medical jargon to me, but I’ll need you for strength, my love.”  His voice cracked, and tears weren’t threatening to fall again.  

Demelza looked him in the eyes, “I’m not going anywhere Ross.”  Ross grabbed her and pulled her up onto the bed for an intense hug, grabbing her like she was his life jacket.

They pulled apart briefly but were still touching forehead to forehead.  “I love you so much Demelza.”  

“Oh Ross, I love you.”

 “Listen Ross, I’ve been thinking.  Why don’t we stay home tonight?  Caroline will understand. We can go over tomorrow and see her and Dwight for lunch or something.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind missing the party?  I don’t really feel up to it, but if you still wanted to go, I would take you.” Ross replied.

“No Ross, I don’t need to go.  It’s more important to be here with your parents.”

Just then they heard loud thudding steps on the stairs coming upstairs.  Ross smiled, “That has to be Jud.”

Just then Jud stuck his head in the door, “Master Ross, ol Prudie says fer the two o’ yuh to get yourselves downstairs fer lunch before it gets cold.”

“Thanks Jud.  Jud have you met Demelza?  Demelza, this is Jud, Prudie’s husband.”

Demelza smiled and stood up to walk over to shake hands with Jud.  “It’s nice to meet you Jud.”

“Yes ma’am nice to meet you as well.  So come get yer lunch the two of yuh.”  Jud turned around to head back down the stairs.  

“Thanks Jud.  Well, I guess we need to head downstairs for lunch before Prudie scalps us.”  Ross said.

“Alright, I just want to go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face.  Um, where’s the bathroom?”  Demelza was looking around the large master bedroom that she hadn’t really gotten a chance to take in yet.  She hadn’t been able to take in the whole house actually, everything had just happened so quickly from the time they walked in the door.

“Oh, the bathroom is back over here.  Oh and here’s your bag from the grocery store.  I was trying to hide it from mama but she had figured it out.  Sorry about that.”  Ross explained.  

Demelza smiled, “It’s fine Ross, I think your mum knows what it’s for.  I’ll be right back.”

***********

Ross and Demelza walked down the stairs, the old steps creaking along the way.  Demelza started laughing as they stepped on the first couple of steps.

Ross looked at her, “What’s so funny?”

“These stairs, the way they creak and moan.  I bet there was no way you were able to sneak in after curfew when you were younger.”

“Oh but that didn’t stop him from trying!” Joshua interjected at the bottom of the stairs.  

Ross got this shocked look on his face, “I don’t know what you’re on about father!”

Demelza laughed at him even harder, “Oh I’m sure you were all innocent as a lad growing up, never did a thing wrong!” Demelza joked.

“Oh aye, this one was real innocent growin’ up.” Prudie said as she was walking in front of them carrying dishes to the dining room table.

Ross was watching Prudie and now his mum carry dishes to the dining room table, “What’s this? Are we eating in the dining room?”

Prudie crossed in front of him, “Well there t’aint enough room in the kitchen now is there.”

Demelza pulled Ross with her to follow Prudie into the kitchen to help carry food into the dining room.  “It smells delicious Prudie!” Demelza said.  

“Aye, Miss Grace did most of the cooking herself.”  Demelza looked at Ross puzzled at that news.

***********

The six of them were set down for a lunch of Grace’s steak and kidney pie that she was famous around the village for, mashed potatoes, peas, a plate of Yorkshire pudding, and some extra gravy on the side.  Joshua and Grace sat on the ends of the table, Prudie and Jud sat on one side of the table, and Ross and Demelza sat on the other side facing the window.  Demelza was finally getting a good look at the dining room.  There was a large rug underneath the table.  Above the table was a large wagon wheel chandelier.  It was obviously old but still elegant.  In the corners of one end of the room were two corner hutches that held China and crystal settings. But it was the large window that grabbed Demelza’s attention.  The window had several square panes in it. As a little girl she had always dreamed of having a window like that.  She thought only wealthy families had windows like that.   There were grey wooden shutters for the bottom half of the windows to be pulled together for whenever privacy was needed.   Ross’s voice brought her back to the present.

“Mama you didn’t cook all of this did you?”  Dishes were being passed around for people to fill their plates.

Grace smiled, “Oh just a bit.  Prudie helped me with the pie and Yorkshire pudding, but I wanted to have a hand in your first meal at home. It’s been so long since you’ve been back.  Demelza help yourself now, love.  There’s plenty to go around.  Oh Joshua, we forgot the drinks, can you take care of that, love?”

Joshua got up and headed for the kitchen and came back with a pitcher of water and a pitcher of lemonade and filled up the tumblers on the table.  Ross couldn’t help but notice his dad pitching in.  

Prudie spoke up, “I did notice that Master Ross picked up frozen peas instead of the mushy peas I asked for.”  She gave Ross a stink eye across the table.

Ross defended himself, “Sorry Prudie, but I can’t stand mushy peas.”

“I can’t either!  I hate the bloody things!” Joshua said.

Prudie had a shocked look on her face, “What you two be going on about!  I’ve been serving ye both mushy peas for close to 30 years!”

Ross and Joshua both said at the same time, “We know!” which caused everyone else except for Prudie to start laughing.

“Aye, and I’ve always hated them!  So I guess from now on you can pick up a bag of frozen peas instead!  Sorry Prudie!” Joshua didn’t mind telling Prudie what he thought.  

Ross and Joshua chuckled together.  “Sorry Prudie, I just never wanted to hurt your feelings,” Ross said.  

Demelza thought to jump in and change the subject.  “Oh Grace, it all looks delicious.  It’s been years since I’ve had a pie like this,” Demelza said.  She looked at Ross loading up his plate and grinned.  “It looks like it’s been awhile since you’ve had one as well, Ross!”

Ross grinned back at Demelza, “I have missed mama’s cooking.”  He looked at Grace,   “Although I am surprised that you feel well enough to cook.  I would think that you would be taking it easy these days.”

“Oh I can’t just lay in bed all the time.  I have to get up and move around when I can.  If I’m feeling good, I take short walks with your father.  The doctor said I should try to keep my strength up as much as possible on my good days,” Grace explained. 

Demelza spoke up, “Well, Ross and I can pitch in and help with the cooking and anything else while we’re here.”  Ross smiled at Demelza for her support.

Ross looked at Joshua, “Papa, do you need any help with the barn or the animals?  I brought some old clothes with me.”

“Aye, Jud and I could use your help mending some fence.  With three of us it will go quicker.  Thank you for asking.” Joshua said.  Jud grunted at this.

The talk around the table soon fell quiet as everyone tucked into their plates.  The sound of cutlery rubbing against plates, Yorkshire pudding sopping up extra gravy, serving dishes being passed, the moans of a good, home cooked meal eliciting memories.  Grace sat back and smiled as she watched the faces around the table enjoying the meal, particularly Ross and Demelza.  She was hoping that he would soon propose to the wonderful girl sitting next to him.  That would be wonderful!  Then grandkids to spoil!  

“Best save room for pudding later!” Grace announced.

Ross’s head dropped back on his shoulders, hands rubbing over his face, “Ohhhh mama, I don’t think I could eat another bite, let alone pudding.”  He looked at his mother, “But what is it?” and everyone laughed at him!!

“Blackberry cobbler!” Grace sung to her son!

Ross gave a side eye to his mother, “With ice cream?”

“Of course!” Grace laughed.  “It’s been keeping warm in the oven, but we can save it for later if you’re full.  Prudie will you go turn the oven off please.  What time are you going to Caroline’s party?”

“Oh we aren’t going to the party,” Demelza said.

Joshua looked at Grace.  He could tell what she was thinking.  “Why aren’t you going?  Won’t Caroline be disappointed that you’re not there?” Joshua asked.

Ross spoke up, “We both decided to stay home with you tonight.  You know, ring in the New Year together.”

Grace was giving Ross the stink eye, “Oh you two don’t need to stay at home with us.  Go on and enjoy your friends.  Dwight’s going to be there isn’t he?”

“Yes, but he and Caroline will understand.  We both want to stay home with you and papa.  It’s okay, really.  You know I’m not big on parties anyway.” Ross was trying to explain himself without actually coming out and saying it.

“Ross, you and Demelza do not need to stay home and babysit me.  I’m fine.  I’m not going to die in the next few hours.”  

Ross dropped his fork, “Mama don’t even joke like that.  It’s not funny!”

Demelza grabbed Ross’s hand, “It’s really alright.  We see Caroline and Dwight in London all of the time.  We came here to spend time with you all.  Neither one of us are into parties.  I don’t think we’ve been to a party once since we’ve been together.  We’re both so busy all of the time, it’s nice just to kick back and relax.  I do need to practise my cello at some point this weekend, but other than that, we don’t have any plans.”

Joshua was watching Demelza, “Well, you can practise anytime you need to young lady.  We will definitely enjoy that.”  He looked at Grace, “Oh Gracie let them do what they want.  Maybe we can play a mean game of scrabble later on.” He winked at Ross.

“Oh you are so on!  And when it comes to backgammon watch out for Demelza, she’s a shark at that game.” Ross answered back to his father.  They all laughed at that.  

Demelza got up and helped Prudie start clearing the table.  

“Well, if the two of you are going to be here tonight to bring the New Year in, we had better get some Champagne in.  Ross, how about you and Demelza go pick some up before the stores close,” Joshua asked.

“We can do that as long as we can take your car.  Your car is an automatic, and I want to start teaching Demelza how to drive.” Ross said.

Demelza stopped dead in her tracks, “Judas Ross!  You never mentioned that!”

“I know, that’s because I didn’t want to give you time to think up an excuse to not do it.  It will be a lot easier to learn on an automatic than on my car.” Ross explained to her.

“Well, I don’t need to learn to drive.  I don’t have a car anyway.  I don’t mind riding the tube.  That’s what it’s there for.”  Demelza’s face was turning red.  Grace and Joshua were watching the exchange go on.  Ross got up to help clear the dishes.

“Love, you need to learn to drive.  What if I got hurt and you needed to take me to A&E?”

“I’d call the ambulance.”

Ross kissed her on the cheek, “You should at least know the basics.  It’ll be okay, I’ll help you.  It’s really not a big deal in an automatic, is it papa.” Ross was hoping to get some help from his father on the subject.

“It is a lot easier to learn in an automatic.  You’ll be fine Demelza, you’re a smart girl.” Joshua encouraged.

Demelza threw a dish towel at Ross’s face, “You’re washin, mate!”

Grace and Joshua both raised their eyebrows and smiled at the steam coming out of the redhead!

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

Ross finally got Demelza in the driver’s side of Joshua’s car.  He had pulled the car into the field a bit so that she wouldn’t drive into anything.  He explained everything to her.  Her eyebrows were furrowed in a frown much like Ross’s did at times. Of course he thought she looked adorable.

 “So where’s that other pedal?” She asked.  

“What other pedal, love?” 

 “That third one that you have in your car.”

“Demelza darlin, remember this is an automatic, there isn’t a clutch pedal.  It’s just the gas and the brake.  Just don’t get them mixed up.  And only use one foot for the both of them, keep your left foot out of the way.  And here in the middle is the gear shift.  All you do is move it back and forth for park, reverse and drive. There’s no shifting like in my car.  You will rarely ever use neutral.” 

“Where do the bloody keys go?” Demelza was looking around the steering wheel.  Ross noticed that her voice was starting to sound strained.

“Love, in this car, you start the car with the button.  Put your foot lightly on the brake and push the button.”

“Push the button?” She grimaced at Ross.

“Yes!  It’s how I start my car too, remember?”

“Oh yeah.  It just seems weird.  I think Caroline uses keys for her car to start.” Demelza thought outloud.

“Well, her car must be older.  Okay so start the car.”

Demelza pushed the button and looked at Ross.  “Now what?”

“So the gear shift is in park, so grab it, move it into drive and put your foot lightly on the gas.” Ross explained.

She put the gear shift into drive, and put her foot on the gas pedal, but it wasn’t lightly!  The car raced up a couple feet before Demelza got scared and screamed and took her foot off the gas pedal.  She remembered the brake pedal and slammed on it, causing the car along with Ross and Demelza to lurch forward!  

Ross had thrown his arm in front of Demelza as a precaution like a parent throwing their arm in front of a child.  His eyes were wide and he looked at Demelza in tears.  “Are you alright, love?”

Crying even louder, she shook her head yes.  Ross was trying his best not to laugh, but it really was a sight.  

“Caalm down love.  It was just your first try.  It’s alright.  That’s why we’re in the field.  Calm down and we’ll try it again.”  Ross said.  What they both didn’t realise was that Joshua, Grace, Judy and Prudie were all watching the scene take place from the kitchen window, laughing their arses off!

“Again!  Ross no!!!  Not again!” Demelza was pleading with him.

“Yes again.  You have to get back on the horse, love.  Just don’t press so hard on the gas pedal.  Lightly, gently.”

“Well it wasn’t my idea to get on the fucking horse in the first place!!” Demelza yelled at him and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Ouch!  That hurt!  Demelza, love.  Please, just try it again and gently this time.  I promise you it will be fine.”  Ross was trying his best to convince her.  

Demelza narrowed her eyes and was trying to look mean.  Ross smiled thinking she couldn’t look mean if she tried.  The car was still running, so she put the gear shift in drive again, and barely touched the gas pedal this time.  She realised that she had to push a little harder on it.  She was watching her foot to see how much farther she had to press.  Ross smiled, “Now love, you can’t look at the pedals while driving.”

“I know Ross!  I’m just trying to see what I’m doing for a minute.”  She pushed a little harder and soon the car was barely rolling forward, but that was just fine with Demelza.  

Ross was smiling, “See you’re doing it!  When you get comfortable you can go a little faster.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Demelza yelled at him.

“Okay, okay, bloody hell!   Christ woman you got a mouth like a sailor when you’re driving!” Ross joked.

Demelza gave the car a little more gas and was creeping along.  “Where am I supposed to go!” Demelza yelled.

“Wherever you want babe, you’ve got all this land to drive around in.  You can just make a big circle back to the house if you want.”

“So I have to turn the steering wheel then.” Demelza mumbled to herself.

Ross was afraid to answer her back that she might yell his head off again so he just let her go!

It took her awhile, but Demelza finally got the car back to the house in one piece, and with their relationship still intact.  She put the car in park and turned it off.  She leaned her head against the steering wheel in exasperation.  “I need a drink,” is all she said.

Ross chuckled, “I’m with you on that one.  How about we switch seats and I’ll drive us into town to get the champagne.  We’ll have another driving lesson tomorrow.”

“Oh Ross, I don’t know if my nerves can handle that,” Demelza said.

“Ah, you’ll be fine, love.  It’ll be easier the second time.”  Ross leaned over and gave her a reassuring kiss.

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

Ross and Demelza walked into the house after buying the champagne. Ross joined Joshua  in  the parlour while Demelza put the champagne in the fridge.  Seamus had made himself at home next to Joshua’s chair.   Ross chuckled at the dog, “Seamus have you switched camps on me?”  Demelaza came into the room and sat next to Ross, prompting Seamus to get up and go sit next to her.  Ross looked at the dog again, “Traitor!”   Joshua had been reading the newspaper and put it down when the couple entered the room.  His reading glasses had been resting on the tip of his nose and he removed them from his face.  “Well, how did the driving lesson go?  Everyone survive? Or better yet, did my car survive?”

Demelza spoke up, “Barely.  I just about killed Ross.”

“Oh it wasn’t that bad, Demelza.  Once you got the hang of it you did fine, love.”

“No, I meant that I wanted to kill you!  Bloody hell!” Demelza said.

Joshua was chuckling at the two of them.

“Ah, there ya go cursing like a sailor again!  Papa she was effing and jeffing all over the place!  I hardly recognized her!” Ross teased.

Demelza attempted another swat at Ross, but this time he was quick enough to move out of her path of destruction!

Ross looked around, “Where’s mama?”

“Oh, she’s having a lie down.  She usually does this time of day.  So, are you two really not going to Caroline’s party?  Your mother wants you to go and have a good time.  No need to hang around here.”  Joshua said.

“But I, we, want to spend time here at home, with mama and you.  Caroline will understand.” Ross answered back.  

“Ross, it’s only a couple of hours.  Your mother will be here when you …”

Ross interrupted his father, “I know she will be dad!  That’s not the point!” Ross’s voice raised in volume.  Demelza put her hand on his arm in hopes to steady him.  

Joshua sat forward in his chair and quietly but sternly said, “Don’t you dare raise your voice to me under my roof!  You’ll wake your mama!  Look, I don’t give a fuck if you go to that party or not!  But it would make your mother happy if you went!”  Then he got up and walked outside.  

Demelza watched Joshua storm out of the door.  She looked at Ross, rubbing his face again.  “Bloody hell Ross!  What the hell was that?”

“It irritates the hell out of me how he acts like it’s no big deal that mama has cancer.  I know that she’s not going to die in the next couple of hours, but Jesus Christ give me some time to, to process everything!  We’ve only been here a couple of hours and just found out.  They’ve had months, months to get used to the idea!!”  Ross was trying his best not to raise his voice but it wasn’t easy.  

Demelza agreed with Ross’s point.  He had just found out a few hours ago that his mum has cancer.  She understood why his mum had kept it from Ross for a little bit, but they should’ve told him sooner.  Demelza’s phone dinged.  She took it out of her pocket and looked at it.  “Oh no.”

Ross looked at her, “Now what’s wrong?”

“Caroline just texted me.  I had messaged her earlier telling her that we weren’t going to come to the party.  She just texted back to let us know that a couple of the partners from your firm are going to be there.  Apparently her uncle had invited them.”

“Shit!  Did she say which ones are going?”

“I’ll ask her.”  Demelza texted Caroline back.  Soon her phone dinged again, “She said it’s Harris Pascoe and Richard Tonkin.”

“Christ on a bike!  Fucking hell.  Well, I guess we’re going to have to go now.  I didn’t know that they were in Cornwall for the holiday.  If you want, you can stay here, you don’t have to go.”  Ross was clearly agitated.

“No, no I’m not going to do that.  I’ll go with you.  Besides, we don’t have to stay for the whole night.  It might be good to clear the air here anyway.  I’ll let Caroline know that we’re going.  Why don’t we go upstairs and try to relax for a bit before we have to get ready to go.” Demelza was looking at Ross’s eyes trying to decipher what he was thinking.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right.”  He stood up from the sofa and held out a hand for Demelza, which she took as she stood up and they headed upstairs.  

************* 

Ross and Demelza had taken a shower, and Ross had laid down for a nap before getting ready for the party.  Demelza had quietly slipped downstairs while Ross was sleeping to get some tea.  She crept down the noisy stairs trying to be quiet so that she didn’t interrupt anything or anyone, and headed for the kitchen. She put the kettle on and was looking in the cupboards for the  mugs, when Joshua walked in the kitchen behind her, causing Demelza to jump.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Joshua said.

“That’s alright, I didn’t know anyone was around.”  Demelza found the mugs and took one out, then looked at Joshua, “Would you like a cuppa?”

“Um sure, I’ll join you.”

The thought of Joshua joining her for a cuppa made her a little nervous.  She cleared her throat.  “How do you take your tea?”   Demelza found the tea bags and started getting the mugs ready.  

“Oh just plain, thank you.”  Joshua reached for a plate and opened the cookie jar and put some biscuits on the plate and set it on the table.  “Can’t have tea without biscuits, can we?”

Demelza gave him a weak smile as she set the mugs on the table and sat down.   She felt a shiver run through her body and wrapped her hands around her mug to try to warm herself up.  There was an awkward silence between the two.  Joshua was dunking a biscuit in his mug.  He pushed the plate to Demelza.  “Have some.”

“Oh, no thank you.  I’ll just have the tea.”  Demelza said.  “I’m sure there will be plenty to eat at the party.”

Joshua looked up at her, “Oh, so you’re going after all?”

“Um, yeah.  Caroline texted to let us know that a couple of the partners from Ross’s firm are going to be there, so Ross thought we had better go since they were going to be there.”  Demelza offered.

Joshua shook his head in agreement.  “Are those Ross’s pyjamas that you’re wearing, or are you also a Star Wars fan?”

Demelza looked down at what she was wearing.  “Oh, yeah they’re Ross’s.  I kind of nicked them from him.”

Joshua smiled at her.  

More. Awkward. Silence.

Demelza looked up at the ceiling in the kitchen.  There were beams in almost every room of the house.  Here in the kitchen there were a few pots and pans hanging from them.  “You have a beautiful home.  My mum would’ve loved to cook in a kitchen like this.”

“Thank you.  We enjoy it, especially the kitchen.  We sit in here a lot. In the morning, the sun is beautiful coming through the windows here.”  Joshua cleared his throat.  “I’m sorry that you had to witness Ross and I arguing earlier.  I was hoping that Ross would behave better with you here.”

“With all due respect sir, Ross just found out a few hours ago that his mum is possibly dying from cancer. You’ve known for a lot longer than he has.  I don’t like the idea of the two of you arguing, but you could cut him some slack.  He’s just trying to process everything.”

Joshua sat back in his chair a little stunned at Demelza’s bluntness.  He was shaking his head again.  “I’ve been consumed with taking care of Grace for a while now, making things easier for her, making sure that she takes her medicine, and the rest that she needs.  But you’re right. I’ve had more time to take things in, and Ross hasn’t.  I just don’t want Grace getting upset.”

“I’m sure that Ross doesn’t want to upset her either.  He just wants to be with her.”  She looked at the time on her watch.  “I guess I better get back upstairs and start getting ready for the party.”  She got up and filled up her cup and fixed Ross a cuppa as well.  

“Oh Demelza, take the rest of the biscuits up to Ross.  They used to be his favourites.” Joshua said.

Demelza smiled, and said “Cheers.”

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

Ross was looking at himself in the mirror while he put his cuff links on his sleeves.  His bow tie was hanging around his neck, waiting to be tied.  “Love, are you about ready to go?” 

Demelza was in the restroom in front of the mirror, putting her red lipstick on.  She had straightened her hair and pulled it up in a high pony so that her sparkly chandelier earrings could be seen.  “Almost” she yelled out.  She heard Ross yell, “Dammit!  I hate tying a bow tie!  Bloody hell!”  It made her giggle.  She knew that he was going to look so good in the tux, but she also knew how much he hated wearing one.  She looked at herself one more time in the mirror.  She always wore makeup for the concerts but for something like this she liked to kick it up a notch with her red lips.  A few wisps of hair carefully falling in the right spots.  She grabbed her purse and headed back out into the bedroom.

“Wow!!  Holy shit Demelza!!  You look incredible!!”  Ross exclaimed.

She laughed at him, “You like?”

“Oh baby I love it!  I love the red lips!  You are so sexy, I’m going to be beating the rest of the lads off with a stick all night!!  Do a little twirl!”

Demelza was loving the extra compliments and did a twirl around for her man.  She was wearing a long sleeved, white, silk blouse with a deep V-neck that showed just the right amount of cleavage; and a pair of wide-legged, white sequined pants that swayed gracefully when she walked.  A wide belt separated the two pieces. 

She walked over to Ross to help him with his tie.  “Here, let me help you before you rip the material.  You know you’re the first man outside of the orchestra that I’ve ever known to own not one tuxedo, but two!  There, that’s better my love.”

“Well, I used to rent them when I first joined the firm, but then I realised that for the price of a couple of rentals, I might as well buy the bloody thing.”

“I really didn’t want to wear a gown tonight.  Do you think this will be alright?  Since it’s a black tie event and all?” Demelza asked.

Ross was slipping his tux jacket on, “Oh yes, it’s perfect!  Plus when you stand still it looks like a long skirt.  You’re going to be more comfortable than I’m going to be, that’s for damn sure.”

Demelza was smoothing out his shoulders and dusting off the little bits of fuzz.  “My goodness, you’ve cursed more in the few hours that we’ve been here, than the whole time that we’ve been together!   There… you look pretty sexy yourself!”

“Me!?  I wasn’t the one that was effing and jeffing in the car earlier milady!” Ross was smiling at her.

“Well that was different!”

That made him chuckle, “Different, eh?”  He went to kiss her.

“No! Not on the lips you’ll ruin my lipstick!”  Demelza scolded him.  

“Judas!” Ross said back to her! 

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

Ross and Demelza descended the staircase of Nampara hand in hand dressed to the nines for their evening out.  Joshua and Grace were sitting in the parlour watching their entrance like parents watching their children go to the prom.  Grace gave a loud gasp, “Oh my goodness look at the two of you!!  Demelza, you look absolutely stunning!”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Ross questioned his mother.

Grace got up to go over to the couple, and pinched Ross’s cheeks.  Demelza started laughing at Ross’s mum’s actions.  “Oh, my handsome, you’re not so bad either!  Oh Joshua get your phone, we need to take pictures of them!  Hurry now!” Grace was commanding Joshua.

“Mama, we’re not going to the school prom, it’s just a party!  You don’t need to take pictures!” Ross said.

Demelza pulled on his arm, “Oh now you hush and let your mum take pictures.  Besides, I never went to a prom so I’m enjoying this!”

Ross looked at Demelza lovingly and kissed her forehead.  Of course she never went to a prom, Ross thought.  

Grace spoke up, “Besides Demelza is a much better date than that bitch you took to the prom!”

Ross’s eyes widened, “Mama!  Language please!  My mother is not allowed to curse!”  Grace and Demelza were laughing at Ross.  

“Alright, the two of you stand still so I can take the bloody pictures.  Say pilchards!!” Joshua yelled out.

“Oh, Joshua, take a couple more now, with different poses.  We’ll have to put these on Facepage tonight!  Can you get one of the four of us?” Grace was instructing her husband.

After about five pictures, Ross had had enough, “Alright, enough with the pictures.  Demelza,  I’m going to get our coats out of the car.  I’ll be right back.”  Ross walked out the front door.

“Demelza, you do look stunning.  Ross is lucky to have you on his arm tonight.” Joshua added.

“Oh I don’t know about that.  I think we’re both lucky, but thank you.” Demelza replied.

Grace was going on about Demelza’s hair and outfit, “You look very chic.  And I love the way you fixed your hair in that ponytail!  Ross will have to keep an eye out for you so the other lads at the party don’t try to steal you away!”

“That’s what I was telling her earlier, “ Ross came back through the door, and helped Demelza with the coat that he gave her for Christmas.  “Right then, the car is warming up.  We best get going.  The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave and I can get out of this monkey suit.”

“Now Ross, there’s no need to hurry home.  You and Demelza have a wonderful time and make sure you dance! Treat her like a princess.”  Grace was so excited to see her son and his girlfriend head out for the evening.  

Ross bent over and gave his mother a kiss.  “Happy New Year mama!”  His eyes shiny with a trace of tears.  Grace gave him a big hug, “Happy New Year my handsome!”  Then she gave Demelza a big hug and kiss.  Demelza wanted to say something but she wasn’t sure just what to say.  She wasn’t used to being around a mother figure anymore.  Ross grabbed her hand and then they left for the party.

Grace turned around after the door closed and looked at Joshua, “She’s good for him.”

Joshua smiled and walked over to give his wife a hug, “Yes, I believe she is, love.”

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

I had this song going through my head while writing this chapter, not really because of the lyrics, but just because of Ross trying to teach Demelza how to drive!

Baby You Can Drive My Car

Written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney

Asked a girl what she wanted to be

She said, “Baby, can’t you see?

I wanna be famous, a star of the screen”

But you can do something in between

Baby, you can drive my car

Yes, I’m gonna be a star

Baby, you can drive my car

And maybe I’ll love you

I told that girl that my prospects were good

And she said, “Baby, it’s understood

Working for peanuts is all very fine

But I can show you a better time”

Baby, you can drive my car

Yes, I’m gonna be a star

Baby, you can drive my car

And maybe I’ll love you.

Beep-beep, beep-beep yeah!

[garden-with-squid]

10/9/23

Call me Mr. DIY cause I made so many new things in the garden these past 2 days 😎

First, the arch trellis!! It’s made from 4 T-posts, a roll of 14-gauge welded wire fencing, and zip ties. It’s about 6 ft tall and pretty sturdy on the sides; not sure how much weight it can handle on the top though. I couldn’t drive the posts very deep because of the gravel floor, so I plan to top off the beds with a few inches of compost to weight it down. Posts were ~$30 and it used ~$20 worth of wire; could have been cheaper but bad!

Today, I finally finished the dragon fruit pot. It’s been a hassle finding something that will fit this trellis thing I repurposed from my parent’s yard because the base is 24” across, including the feet. It also needed a base to sit on the pavement.

Here is the final build: I built a wire cage around the trellis and zip tied the sides/bottom together, then laid felt and shade cloth along the bottom. The galvanized ring is mostly for decoration to hide how shitty it looks. ~$8 worth of wire, ~$2 worth of clearance felt, $20 for the galvanized ring, and way too many hours of figuring out how to make it work. But it looks quite nice with the decorative metal trellis, and I’m excited to see if the dragon fruit like their new home. They had some circling, but decent root formation.

And I also redesigned this part of the patio by replacing the daybed frame with a small table/chair set we already had. I cleaned the pavement and moved some plants over. It’s much more inviting with the greenery, and cleaner than the mattress/fabrics we had on the daybed before. I had my morning tea there while overlooking the garden.

Also also, I’m trying these paper pots with tender rooted plants like peas and nasturtium. If they survive, I’ll bury them pot and all.

Very proud of myself! Everything’s looking great!

[oglegoggle]

There’s a super strange way that folks whom have always lived in cities interact with wilderness. It’s like the expect a wilderness park to work like a zoo

“Where can I go to see pika?” They’re rare, endangered, these regions of the park are where they live, they are most likely to be seen at dawn and dusk. “So will I see one here??” You may, keep your eyes open, but they are a bit shy. “You don’t have any on display???” …..no? This is a wilderness park? Where you go to watch animals living their lives unrestricted in their natural habitat?

“Can I swim in this lake?” Yeah. “Can I bring my pool donut?” No. Regulations limit inflatable watercraft on that lake because the river otters have been known to pop them and bite people. “Why don’t you relocate, or better yet terminate, all the otters in that lake if they’re so dangerous? My kids can’t swim very well!” This is a wilderness park. We are trying to preserve this region in as close to its natural state as possible for the enjoyment of future generations. “Well my kids can’t enjoy this park with killer otters in it!” Sir. People want to come here to view wildlife in its natural habitat. The YMCA has pools with exactly 0 otters your kids can swim poorly in with their donuts.

“Are there bears here?” Yes. “What trails are they on?” All of them. “But I don’t want to see a bear!” You’re not likely to, they’re pretty rare, and the species that lives here is pretty shy. “Do you know their exact locations, can I see on my phone?” No. We don’t GPS the bears. “That’s scary you should get rid of the bears!” This… is… a… wilderness park.

“Are all of these trails paved?” No. None of them are. “That’s not wheelchair accessible!” Do…. Do you want to wheel 2,000ft straight up the mountain? “Where can my mother go in her scooter?” These two trails have pea gravel and will be the easiest to tread via wheelchair or scooter. “That’s it???” Yeah. “What if we want to go to this location?” There’s uneven stone stairs carved into a cliff face beside a waterfall you must climb to access that location. “Can I drive to it?” To the trailhead. Where you park. Then hike 4 miles. And climb an uneven and often wet stone staircase. Twice. “This is a waste of my time!” Mine too.

“What is camping?” Please. If you don’t know what camping is go to Disneyland. Just don’t even come here. What the fuck kind of person goes to a national park and doesn’t know what camping is??? It would make sense if that question were coming from an international traveler who may not know what the word is, but knows what the idea is, but no it was some moron American LA type with a $3,000 purse who looked completely lost and terrified.

Holy shit my dudes. Americans are stupid. Like oh my god Americans are stupid stupid.

[radioactivecallista]

Probably the first post on Tumblr with this combination of tags.

I went on a long rambling rant and it was dumb so I didn’t post it, but I did discover something and I still don’t know what to think about it. I compared Elon Musk buying me a $50 salmon dinner (no, I don’t want to go out with him, it’s a long story and the gist of it was I like free food) to me throwing a piece of pea gravel into a well, because obviously $50 to him is worth way less than a penny is to me, but it seems in line with a chunk of pea gravel.

And I was wrong. I did the math. A $50 salmon dinner is about two orders of magnitude LESS valuable to Elon Musk (net worth: 189B) than a single piece of pea gravel is to me (net worth: about 10K) by roughly two orders of magnitude. We could literally go to the most expensive restaurant in the whole world and the gravel is still more valuable unless I found a good bargain on gravel. And to be fair, I probably could. At that point the numbers are close enough that it’s fuzzy and depends on what kind of gravel you get and who the supplier is.

I don’t know what this says about society. It says something about me, specifically that despite good mental health overall I still have ADHD. But I’m still over here boggling at the fact that 100 fancy-ish salmon dinners to him are a piece of gravel to me, and I’m not even poor. I mean, kind of, I’m definitely not wealthy, but it’s the “I live in a small apartment, my car is almost old enough to get its own license and drive itself around, and salmon and steak are special occasion treats, not everyday food” type of poor, not actual poverty.

[verse50]

Heat

It was the first weekend over 80F and we took full advantage of it on our six acres. Friday night we let the kids loose on the rock pile, loading up the trailer for the dump, then packed them off early Saturday for soccer camp. All morning he bush-hogged the treeline while I wrestled the sunken raised beds into shape. This house had been so neglected when we bought it two years ago. Finally we had the time and money to make it nice again.

I was pulling weeds when he tromped out in chaps and ear protection. Chainsaw hanging from his belt. That and the sweaty dirt on his face made me look a bit longer.

“I’m gonna saw up that alder and then get to the stairs,” he half shouted. Bush hogging will do that to you. He grinned and took out his ear plugs. “The beds are coming along, maybe-” I was on my knees and gazed up at him quizzically.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said, at the perfect angle to peer down my shirt.

“Nope!” I agreed, and swung myself back and forth. It looked and felt like two water balloons bumping in a pillowcase. Then stuck out my tongue.

His mouth set. “I gotta get the stairs done today.” Then he was gone into the brush, chainsaw revving. I bent down again to the weeds, trying to drown my frustration with deep breaths. 

He was so hard to read. I was a free spirit, a spitfire, and he was a calm, methodical engineer with a heart of gold. There was no better man on the planet, I was convinced, but gosh sex was tough with him! It took him so long to adjust to change. A toe ring. The tiniest gold nose ring. A tattoo on my ankle. Introducing him to my vibrator. I had to pace everything at six month intervals or it was too much.

 But once he got used to it...holy fucking shit. He basically dissected that vibrator and and studied the user manual. Found similar ones, tested them on me like I was a guinea pig. Even took me to a toy store in Dallas then fucked the daylights out of me until 3am. And then...it all petered out like a spent firework. I would try to keep the energy going, keep him interested, but I could never tell what worked. He was pretty shy about sex, almost embarrassed. He wasn’t comfortable with dirty talk. We couldn’t really sext because his job required cellphones be lockered except at lunch. We could go months on once a week then he would surprise me with a two day fuckfest, like a volcano erupting. I lived for those times but could never figure out how to make them happen more often. All it did was make me ramp up with excitement, feel more free, then try to cram myself in a box again. He was such a good man, though. I just needed to be more patient, less wild. I ripped up the weeds angrily.

The sun was high when he came in for lunch. I had sandwiches, chips, and his favorite tea ready. There was even more dirt on his face and I sat there awkwardly, trying to equate my silent chip-crunching husband with the dirty woodsman I wanted to pounce on.

“I think I’ll build out the landing a bit from the stairs, maybe put in a new handrail,” he said. I sipped my tea and nodded. “The driveway could use some gravel.”

“The trailer has all the rocks in it still,” I pointed out.

“Mmm. I’ll go to the dump first, then hit Home Depot and Brother’s Fieldstone.” He looked at me as if I had just appeared at the table. “You’re wearing a bra now.”

“Uh-huh.” I cut off a smart-ass retort and became very busy fishing pickles from their jar. “I’m gonna work on the petunia baskets.”

After the peck on my cheek he would be gone for at least two hours. I ripped off my bra, blasted Slayer on my bluetooth speaker, and delved into the hanging baskets. By the time I had repotted everything and cleaned up the cobwebby  lounge chairs I was a filthy mess. Shower time.

You couldn’t see our house from the road. I went out on the deck in just a towel, then threw it off and lay naked on a chair, basking like a lizard. Big fluffy clouds blocked the sun momentarily, then shooed away when I spread my legs wide. Everything needed to dry. My hair would need a serious flatiron session. Idly I thought of him coming out of the forest...rushing home...making a beeline for me...a naked woman tanning herself alone...so easy to take advantage...helpless...but there was a shotgun behind the door...

Damn it, I thought. Can’t even have a fantasy and it gets all practical. He’s wearing off on me. I looked at my phone. About 30 minutes of naked freedom left- I should water the baskets again. I picked up the hose and my phone rang.

“Hey baby,” I said, working up the cheerful wife tone. He really was wonderful. I just needed to...not need so much.

“Baby, guess how much the lumber cost for the deck, right now?”

I thought for a minute. It has been awhile since we did a major project. “Um, I think we did the brown house for under $600?”

“Yeah, well, I priced it all out. It’s gonna be over $2000! We can’t swing that now. It’s insane, the prices. Never seen anything like it. And Brother’s is out of pea gravel!” He was worked up. This man stuck to budgets religiously.

“O my God! No, you’re right. We can’t do that now. The deck will be fine for awhile, definitely. It’s sturdy at least.” The sun was so hot on my back. I stared at my shadow, waving the limp hose to and fro.

“So I emptied the trailer and uh, checked everything out. Since we can’t do anything more on that today I, um....” he coughed. I waited, cautiously easing on the water. “I went to that new little toy store in the strip mall.”

Water spurted out onto my shadow. “I see. What kind of toys?”

“The only kind!” His voice rose. The hose engorged and gurgled. “I found one like your pink one, you know that does the swirly thing, too? But this seems to be a softer material, a better grade of silicone, I think this company merged with a big distributor and, uh...”

My mouth twisted. It was just like him to get carried away on technical aspects. “That’s so sweet, baby. What are you wanting to do with that?”

“I want to use it on you.” He was almost whispering, as if there were seven other people in his F-250. “Like Dallas.” It was such a distant memory. I couldn’t work myself all up again, it was too exhausting. But he went to the store, my dear husband...he wants something.

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” I said sincerely. “Just come home and we can hang out the rest of the day.”

“I don’t want to hang out. I want- I want you to not wear a bra again. I don’t want you to feel, uh, like you have to put it back on? Around me?”

I aimed the water where my shadow’s pussy would be. Cool drops sprayed up onto my flushed skin.

“I’m not wearing a bra right now.”

“What?”

“I’m naked out on the deck. Been tanning after I took a shower.”

Silence. He was gunning the truck, I could hear the roar.

“I hope you’re bringing some wood home for me.” VVVBBBBRBbbbbRRRRrr.

“Baby, if you can just let me plan stuff. It’s easier for me. I’m sorry I’m slow and I disappoint you. I wanted to tear your shirt off there but I’m just never sure...I don’t want to do anything you don’t like, I don’t want to hurt you- really- just let me plan sometimes and maybe try to go along? I promise I’ll do better, you are so sexy-” sfhkhfffffppp. His phone cut out. I stood there, dumb, watching the water drip my shadow off the edge of the deck. He had never talked to me so much at one time. “-if I can plan and know in advance that you like it we can do more, you drive me crazy you know that, right?”

I took a deep breath. My legs were shaking into the damp, hot wood. “How do you want me to be, when you get home?”

Pause. More gunning. “On the deck chair, doggy. Ass in the air. Wait- I need to shower first.”

“No, you don’t. You’re sexy with the dirt on you. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I love my sexy, dirty husband.”

“Ok.” He was firm. The blinker was on, he was at the intersection ten minutes away. “Ass up, doggy. Hands by your side. Face turned away from the stairs. I don’t want you to see me. I have-have- a special delivery.”

I turned off the water. The whole deck was soaked. Not one basket had gotten a drop. “Ass up ready to receive. I’ll be waiting for you, baby.” I was so excited my words came out slowly, bouncing through a lump in my throat. The sun was cold and hot at the same time.

“If you respond well there will be future appointments.” His voice was full of confidence before the phone shut off.

I almost tripped on my way over to the lounge chair. Fortunately my towel was there in case things got really wet.

Thank you to @daily-esprit-descalier for sharing the photo that inspired this story.

Linktree

[angeli-marco-writes]

Tom Felton - Risk

A/N - Despite writing this 8 months ago, it hasn’t been uploaded anywhere. I forgot about it until a few days ago, redrafted it, and here we go. With the (not so) recent blow up of Draco-tok and Tom’s increased following, I thought it would be a good time to upload as well, and it has a summer feel to escape the disgracefully bitter winter here in Britain. I do not own the song lyrics used. I do not know Tom, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction and entirely my own. 

Warnings - cursing, legal alcohol consumption, mutual pining, 3.4k words of fluff and angst. Nothing further.

Summary - After your break up, one that pained you to the bone, you try to escape and you find yourself taking that one risk you always thought you should, travelling. A simple day out, and the one person you don’t want to see is the one person who can help you with your car troubles. Could he help with your heart troubles too, over a reminiscent dinner perhaps?

RISK, that’s what this is. You’re taking a risk for once in your life, living a new experience and stepping outside of your comfort zone. That's what you’re supposed to do to get over a particularly brutal break up, isn’t it? So here you are, finding yourself again, exploring places you’ve always wanted to go. Current destination: Cape Town, South Africa. A haven.

You came here on a whim. Looking up some cheap prices from when you were in Barcelona, and surprisingly, you got a good direct flight and hotel deal for more than a reasonable price. 

Before your break up, you’d never have dreamt of this. You were content with your life of luxury in LA with your boyfriend after dating for a while, but with his insane work schedule and travelling, you just couldn’t reasonably keep up with the relationship. You felt neglected, work and Willow always coming above you, and you couldn’t just be solely financially reliable on him, even if he was a millionaire. So after a long few days of gruelling arguments, you packed your bags and did what he told you to do.

“Live your life the way you couldn’t do with me holding you back.”

He was sorry, so sorry, heartbroken. I can still see his face when he let me go. Too darling to forget or stay mad at. You’ve just got to find the part of yourself that stayed with him, and maybe you’ll find it half way across the globe in between gorgeous beaches and scenic mountains while staying in a luxurious five star hotel.

Your days have been filled with hiking and swimming, spa days and sunbathing, fancy meals and getting drunk under the stars. But even though you’re living the dream, you haven’t quite found yourself yet. Maybe you will with your sightseeing plans for later on.

This afternoon, after you’ve spent the morning hiking, you’re ready for a calm afternoon back at your hotel, a leisurely swim in the pool to cool down and maybe some sunning on the adjoining beach.

You make your way back to the car you hired, a beat up jeep, but it’s a pleasure to drive around the mountains. But as you walk back there, you see someone. No, it can’t be him. It was just someone with the same hairstyle as him. Wearing the same shirt that he used to wear all the time. And wearing the same glasses. It has to be a coincidence, he can’t be here, it’s just your mind playing tricks. 

Part of you even wants him to be here, but the correct part of your brain knows that your longing thought us nothing more than wantonly cohorted, made up from missing him and being away from the last place you could call home. So without another thought, you open the door to the car and climb into the driver's seat. You’re suddenly conscious of the way you’re dressed: canvas shorts with a sun top and billowy button down, but even if it is more of a practical outfit, you still look damn good in it, so calm yourself down.

Starting the car is easier said than done, because as soon as you slot the key in and turn it, the engine vibrates for a few seconds and lets out a low grumble, and then it dies. Internally you curse yourself, and you hit the steering wheel a few times to release some steam. This was always Tom’s area of expertise, you never had to deal with car mechanics, but instead of making it a big deal, you give it a go again, only for the engine to crash again.

Footsteps sound outside the car on the gravel and sand, and then a head appears at your rolled down window, followed by a voice you never thought you’d hear again.

“Need some help, Miss?”

You turn your head so quickly that you feel something pull. No no no, he cannot be here on your get away trip. 

He smiles at you lopsidedly until realisation dawns on his face. In that moment, his cheeks fall and his red eyes droop. He is definitely high, but high tom is the best tom, all slow and cuddly.

“W-what are you doing here, Y/N?” he asks incredulously, his enunciated British tone raspy and soothing all at once, grounding you.

“Vacation. Um, you?” 

You fumble over your words, scrutinised under the piercing blue of his eyes behind his glasses.

“Filming.” he says.

Even after you split up, you’d never expected it to get this awkward if you ever met again. You’re definitely not over him yet, you can tell by the way butterflies flitter inside your stomach just at the sight of his day-old stubble and the tufts of sun kissed hair that poke out from his cap.

“That’s, um, nice,” you respond and offer him a shy smile, “Would you mind, um?”

He nods and moves around to the hood of the car. You watch as he turns his cap around and rolls up his sleeves, revealing his gorgeously tanned and toned forearms. You lose yourself and all inhibitions as he works to find out the problem, his seamless movements and his cute thinking face that crinkles his forehead and scrunches his nose. How he’s always so willing to help in any circumstance and the undying love that he revels in day after day, it’s like basking in eternal joy whenever you’re around Tom because not a single moment is dull. You can’t help but remember the way it felt when he kissed you, the fire that his touch left in its wake, the gentle way he held you through countless nights.

“Sorted, sweet pea.” he says, leaning against your car door with his head against the window frame. 

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “No one’s called me that since you.” 

The words are out before you can stop them, your sad smile unmoving from your face despite being filled with longing, and it just so happens to match his expression exactly.

“I have to film this afternoon, but how about I take you out for dinner? We can just, I don’t know, catch up? It can’t be a coincidence that we’ve bumped into each other.”

You don’t even have to think before the answer is spilling from your lips rather enthusiastically, a definite yes with a vigorous nod. He chuckles, slipping his hand through the window to clasp yours.

“I still have your number, so I’ll text you a time and place, yeah sweet pea? I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, “bye tom.”

You watch as he walks away before starting the car, your thoughts the whole way back to the hotel filled with nothing but Tom and thoughts for the night. Dinner with your ex really is a risk, but maybe, just maybe if he reciprocated your lingering feelings, it’ll pay off.

No matter how much you want to spend the afternoon carelessly swimming and enjoying yourself, taking in the views all around you and revelling in the South African sunlight, you simply can’t. Every moment you close your eyes, Tom’s smile illuminates your thoughts and fills your body with a prickling longing. It’s a bitter feeling that scares you, unnerving you and forcing you to lose all hope for the night ahead. Your phone buzzes on your way to the spa, thinking maybe a hot stone massage will clear your mind, but you quit when you see what he’s written. You haven’t deleted his number from your phone either.

PAPI ♡ : What hotel are you at? I’ll grab you for dinner at 7. Dress fancy, preferably in that nice black dress I love, but you look perfect in everything. T x

That black dress. The same one you haven’t worn since your last night out before the break up. Maybe you will wear it, maybe you won’t. You tap out a reply, signing with a smiley face and no kisses no matter how much you want to press that x like there’s a gravitational pull, but it just doesn’t feel right in the circumstances. 

PAPI ♡ : I’ll be there, sweet pea. T x

That might be Tom’s worst habit of them all. Constantly signing his texts with ‘T’ when you obviously know that it’s him. It used to gnaw at you, especially when he’d send particularly needy texts, multiple in a row, and sign them all the same way, but often, it was rather cute. He always was crap with technology. 

All the memories come flying back at a terrifying pace, the different texts calling to you from your phone, begging for you to relive the good old days. No, you can’t. You won’t give in to such an insane impulse. It’s bad enough that you agreed to go to dinner with your ex, you can’t let anything cloud your mind to make you more malleable for the night. So to resist temptation, you throw your belongings down on a sun lounger and grasp a cocktail over a nearby bar, downing it briefly before diving head first and breaking the surface of the water. Maybe a swim will distract you until you have to get ready.

Tom spent his whole afternoon messing up lines. Not for a minute could he focus. His lunchtime beer ended up being drunk faster than he’d wanted to, and he hardly ate a thing, for his stomach was filled with butterflies. Whenever anything was said in the script or on set that linked his mind back to you, he went hazy for a solid minute. Every time he’d try to pull himself together, and would fail, remembering how your hands felt when you tied his hair back or undressed him. 

Eventually, it was too much.

“CUT!” the director screamed an hour early. “Stop, just stop. Go home, sleep, come back tomorrow. We haven’t got a single decent shot in hours, Felton.”

Tom gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down beneath a feathering of stubble that had made its way down there. Faintly, he nodded and ran a trembling hand through his hair before pulling a cap on. He rolled his sleeves up briefly, wandered to his dressing room, and fell into a chair, his thoughts whirring around his head too fast for him to form a sensical sentence. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? So, he grabbed his belongings and ran to his car, driving to his hotel to play his sorrows away while awaiting your date.

Once coming in from the pool, you spend a few hours prepping yourself, primping and dressing for the date. You want to look good for Tom, but also for yourself. You always dressed up to feel good about yourself and it was just a bonus that Tom worshipped you, even more when he knew you’d made an extra effort. Curling your hair, dabbing on lipstick, even buckling the straps on your sandals fills your stomach with butterflies and gives you goose bumps all over your skin, already prickling with the blush you received from looking in the mirror. It’s time.

Your walk out to the front of the hotel feels foreign, your ankles wobbling in the heels you decided on, and even as the humid air hits you, you feel a little exposed and chilled. However, any anxiety dissipates when you see Tom walking towards you, a dopey and ever loving smirk on his sun kissed face, crisp chinos with loafers and a billowy button down, loose around the neck. The evening breeze blows the short sleeves up and gives you a peek at the curls of ink that hug his arm in the shape of a dog, the same as how you see the contrast on his ankle between the dark palm trees and his white skin.

You don’t realise you’ve been standing still and tearing apart his every exquisite feature until he’s an inch away from you and his fingers have slipped around your own, holding your hand loosely and keeping you close.

“Hi.” he says, his mouth pulling to a grin.

“Hi.” you return, pacing your fingers with his own more intricately to distract yourself from how crimson your cheeks are.

“Come on,” he picks up his pace back to where he’s parked, “I’ve got a surprise.”

He plays show tunes the whole journey, silly show tunes that put a smile on your face and ones you can’t help but sing along to. He keeps his calloused palm on your knee, brushing some hair behind your ears or sneaking a kiss on your cheeks whenever possible, but the journey isn’t long enough for anything major, nor long enough for you to take apart every piece of hospitality he’s offered you so far. It’s just dinner with an ex, right? Yeah, that is until he pulls up outside a five-star luxury restaurant, complete with a mini ballroom floor and a stage where stands a woman in an evening gown, warbling out in a different language.

“We’re around the back, I have connections.”

His smile is as luminous as the twinkling lights that he’s had arranged in the trees on the back terrace of the restaurant. One table sits with a bottle of wine balanced precariously atop, a single rose in a fluted vase, two wine glasses and sets of cutlery, and with the sun setting and the fairy lights, it’s perfectly ambient. You want to speak, but you can’t find the words. Maybe, if he pulled out all the stops this way, he feels the same as you do.

He pulls your chair out before sitting down himself, pours your glass of rose wine first, and even orders your favourite meal. The amount of times you’ve ordered that very same thing though, it must be ingrained in his mind. Neither of you say a word except for meek thank you’s, and tension fills the air, not ceasing until the waiter delivers a bread platter.

“Oh,” Tom says to the waiter, a little startled, “do you have any crackers? She doesn’t eat bread before meals, or, well, at all.”

The waiter nods and scurries away, but you’re left with a burning blush on your cheeks, anxiously tucking your hair behind your ears.

“You remembered,” you chuckle softly, feeling a little giddy even though its one of your more stupid habits.

“Of course I did, I remember everything about you.”

He reaches over the table and leaves his palm open. You give it a moment of thought before wrapping your fingers around his own, tracing the lines and sun spots. He’s so familiar yet so different, your time apart somehow meeting your shared experiences, the cons outweighing the pros, something causing a barrier.

You engage in small talk while you eat, simple conversations of how you’ve been and what you’ve been up to, only very few anecdotes shared from your past relationship. It feels so natural between the two of you, just the sight of his wispy dark blonde curls is still enough to make your heart flutter, but both of you are holding something back. Nothing changes until you’re half-way through your second bottle of wine, liquid courage making you buzz.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, holding nothing back, taking just one more risk before you close off the Tom chapter of your life for good. “Do you miss us? The way we were? Who we were with each other?”

He doesn’t say a word, only looks at you with heavy blue eyes, pleading.

“Do you miss the way I used to kiss you good morning? The way you’d kiss me goodnight? The good times we had, even the bad. Do you not miss me at all?”

He swallows thickly and takes a heavy swig of wine. He signals to a waiter who clears your dishes, and then he leans on his bare forearms over the table, both of his hands holding yours as he stares into your soul, those mystical ocean eyes boring into your pained soul.

“I miss it all,” he says in his hoarse tone, “I miss you and our life more than you can imagine. If it was up to me, I’d never have let you go, but I couldn’t keep you tied down. So before you leave forever, can we have one nice night and pretend like we aren’t completely fucking broken?”

You see tears in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks at any given moment. You hold his hands tighter, letting your soft fingers dance up his arms, anything to feel the warmth of his skin against you once more.

“I wish I hadn’t left.” you whisper, Hoping that the sound is blown away with the wind, or disguised by the melodious singing from just inside the restaurant, but no. He hears your words as clear as day.

“Then don’t go. Don’t leave me again. Come back and we’ll make it better, I won’t work, we don’t need to, and you can live out all of your goals too. It’s high time that you come back where you belong, by my side. Don’t leave again, Sweet pea. Please.”

You’ve never heard him sound so desperate. He clings to you, kisses your hands, and when you’re too dumbfounded to respond, he gently pulls you up and brings you upright to a flat area of the terrace.

A sweet and familiar melody flows with the wind and the bird song, softly filling your ears from the restaurant, seeping into your own little circle with Tom. He cradles his forearm around your waist, his hand splayed on the small of your back. His other cups the palm of your hand gracefully as you rest your head on his cloth covered shoulder. He still smells the same, that same mix of smoke and beer and firewood as always, the musk of his aftershave lingering on the expanse of his neck, a faint sweat from the sun clinging to his freckles.

As soon as the lyrics start, you bury your head further into Tom’s neck, chest to chest, keeping him close.

‘Come on skinny love just last a year,

Pour a little salt we were never here,’

“Come home with me and let's pretend you never left.” Tom suggests, swaying in time with the music, your body moving in time with his even if you aren’t particularly responsive to what he’s saying. “It’ll be better now. We can make it better.”

You hum against his neck noncommittal, the vibrations sending warmth through his chest. His hands roam your body, the snug fitting of his favourite dress hugging your body all too familiar to him. It’s muscle memory to trace the contours of your body beneath the black poplin, the gaps of lace giving him a peek to your dappled skin, and the slightly lower neckline still driving him crazy. His chinos hold his legs and give the silhouette of his muscles, tensing as he dances meek waltz steps, his body naturally leading the way for yours to follow, his shirt blowing open more as you hold him closer. His warmth is what you need, his body, his heart, all of him.

“I want to come back, we’ll make it work,” you whisper, toppling between your heels in what somehow resembles a slow dance to the music still coursing through your veins and making you alive.

‘In the morning I'll be with you

But it will be a different kind

'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets

And you'll be owning all the fines’

“Let's take the risk, sweet pea.”

His voice is no more than a hoarse whisper, illuminating your mind in places that you forgot, his words making your heart flutter. This is it, you love him and you have to go back with him.

‘Come on skinny love…’

“Maybe, “ you start, “Just maybe, this isn’t skinny love anymore.”

Reaching up on your tiptoes and cupping the back of his neck, gently tugging the hair at the nape, you bring his lips down to yours, finally meeting in a kiss, one that’s been months coming. He brings his palms up to your cheeks, holding and caressing while your eyes are squeezed shut, focussing on the deepening massage of his lips against yours. It’s so welcoming, so warming, so homely. This was definitely a risk worth taking.

[biggest-stupidhead]

Turning Point (Levi x reader)

Summary: After graduating college, you are presented with the opportunity of becoming a “counselor” at a small rehab facility located in the vast Montana wilderness. You didn’t know much about it, just that it was for troubled teens, ran by a privately funded staff. You are eager to meet the “campers” and your fellow counselors, but you know that it won’t be easy. You’ll have to build a strong relationship with both your coworkers and the campers, who aren’t exactly happy to be there. 

Warnings: vomiting, lice, rehabilitation mentions, allusions to ED, mentally ill teens. 

Word Count: 4.6K

The bus bounced over the dirt road, making the vehicle feel like a metal death trap.The scenery was stunning, the mountainous road was not well traveled and only the occasional car whizzed by the bus. You had known that the camp would be remote, but not this isolated. Located deep in the heart of Montana, it could be reached by bush planes or the lone bus that dared traverse the mountains. A wet nose pressed against your knee and you nearly jumped out of your skin. Looking down into Aspen’s wide blue eyes you chuckled quietly and scratched behind her floppy ear. 

She was one of the few possessions that you had been allowed to bring along. The bus wasn’t the most spacious, only allowing each rider two bags. Aspen let out a huff and rested her head onto your thigh, ears drooping as she relaxed into you. You felt bad about the long drive, but she was always good on long car rides between the campus and your hometown. You absently stroked her as you allowed your eyes to wander around the bus for the millionth time. 

You look up front to see the larger lady who drove the bus with little concentration. She hummed along to an older song that didn’t seem familiar to you. Her eyes met yours in the large mirror up front. Giving you a toothy smile that showed her yellow teeth. You look away quickly, her gaze making you uneasy. The boy to your right twitches in his sleep. You hadn’t noticed him much before, he was young, his long blonde hair tangled and ratty. His old grey sneakers held small holes that showed his patterned socks. 

You wondered why he was going to the farm, seeing that it was for troubled kids in general there could be many reasons for his enrollment. On the spotty website that the rehab had provided, it had listed anger management, depression, group therapy, and a bunch of other mental resources. You turned as subtly as possible to glance at the pair in the back of the bus, two girls who shared a seat, as well as a pair of earbuds. 

Both of them had ash blonde hair, one was taller than the other maybe standing at 5’7 while the other stood at about 5’4. The one on the left kept her hair in a messy ponytail as her steel grey eyes met yours. Her lip busted, her cheek bruised as she glared at you. You could tell she didn’t like your staring. The girl beside her looked younger. Her eyes were closed as she slept calmly on the other's shoulder. Her eyes held dark circles under them, her skin was pale, and her hair was choppily cut to fall just above her shoulders. From what you could tell, she had cut it herself, but it looked good.

You see the boy from up front stretch his arms and yawn loudly. He looked at the bus driver and you could see a large smile stretch across his face. 

“Lavern, my girl.” The boy said loudly, his voice still scratchy with sleep. The older woman gave him a sly smile and turned the wheel in her moment of distraction. The bus jerked to the side, causing you to slightly swing out of your seat. Aspen yelped as her claws scratched against the floor trying to regain her balance. You blindly reached out and snagged her by her harness, barely catching her before she slipped into the seat across the aisle. 

“Connie you rascal!” Lavern let out a bark of laughter as she righted the wheel. The boy, Connie shrugged and grinned impishly back at her as she pushed a wispy lock of her bright blue hair behind her ear. 

“How much longer?” The taller girl yelled from the back, her hand wrapped around the other girl’s shoulders as she glared daggers up at the front of the bus. 

“Ten minutes sweetie.” Lavern hollered back as she pulled on a pair of dramatic red cat eyed reading glasses that had been dangling around her neck. The girl nodded, but still seemed displeased with the news. The boy turned his sly gaze onto you and you swallowed a bit nervously. His eyes widened, and yours mirrored his, he leaned forward and his stare intensified. The air that was flowing through the cracked window quickly dried out your eyeball and you blinked, tears forming. A loud clap made you jump, forcing you to open your eyes and see that Connie had clapped his hands together and rocked backwards with a victorious smirk. 

“I won!” He jeered as he hopped a seat closer to you, long locks swaying in the breeze. From the closer proximity you could make out the logo on his shirt, a lone cabin with an oak tree and fancy cursive lettering that read: “Turning Point Farms”. A dead giveaway that Connie was a returning camper. 

“What?” You said a bit nervously as Connie jumped yet another seat closer to you, his eyes now trained on Aspen, who you were still gripping. From this distance you could now smell the prominent scent of weed that hung in the air around him. He raised a brow at you and dug into his pocket, producing a dab pen, which he dangled between his index and thumb. 

“Care for a hit before a year of sobriety?” Connie asked, ignoring your befuddlement. Your mouth twisted into a frown at the sight, but you still took the pen. Pocketing the device as he stared at you in shock. You smirked at how quickly the tables had turned. 

“I’ve been sober.” You said a bit cheekily as his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

“No need to be a hard ass.” Connie grumbled as he switched his focus to your dog, who was pulling at the harness, eager to greet him. 

“Sorry.” You said weakly as you loosened your grip and allowed Aspen to sniff Connie’s offered fist. 

“Who is this?” He asked as he scratched behind her ears, much to her pleasure. 

“This is Aspen, my Australian Shepherd.” You introduced her proudly, and her stumpy tail wagged at the mention of her name. 

“Cool, how old?” Connid asked as he slipped his hands beneath her harness and scratched her sides. 

“Three years, do you have pets?” You asked, trying to find a common ground. 

“Used to have a hamster, but I flushed it down the toilet when I was six.” Connie commented nonchalantly as he pressed a kiss to Aspen’s forehead. 

“Oh...I’m sorry?” You said awkwardly as you grimaced. 

“Don’t be, he was an annoying little fucker.” Connie chuckled as he leaned back and looked out the window and immediately perked up. 

“Hey look you can see the house from here!” He said enthusiastically, pointing towards the front of the bus, which was turning down a long winding road framed by tall trees on either side. Sure enough, at the end of the long dirt drive, a massive white farmhouse sat perched on a small hill in the middle of a clearing, to the right a huge red barn sat, and even further right, a massive stable with sprawling paddocks. To the left, there was another barn, this one looked like it was more like a space for people then animals, with nice rocking chairs set up under the overhanging roof that wrapped around the barn. Behind the whole scene was the mountains and uninterrupted wilderness. 

“Been here before?” Connie called to the girls in the back, but when they showed zero interest in talking to him, he turned back to you and raised a brow. 

“Uh no.” You said with a nervous smile and he nodded before pointing out towards the stables. 

“Out that way is the lake, opposite direction is the trails.” He said with a proud nod and then pointed to the space between the barn and the house. 

“Over yonder is the chicken coop, one of my personal favorites.” He said with a wink before standing up, gripping the seat in front of him as he rocked excitedly on his heels. 

The bus came to a screeching halt and Lavern leaned forward to dig out a cigarette and lit it, blowing out a puff of smoke. She grappled with the lever for the door for a moment before cursing loudly. 

“Damn it all! Connie, come kick this piece of shit open for me sweet pea!” Connie was quick to comply, even going as far as saluting her before jogging to the doors and lifting his leg. With one swift kick the door flew open and the cool fall breeze swept in. You swept up your bags as well as Aspen’s leash before carefully picking your way down the aisle. Lavern nodded at you and pulled the cigarette out of her mouth, blowing a puff of smoke out to the side. 

“Take it easy sweet heart.” She said, voice raspy and eyes twinkling behind her dramatic glasses. 

“Thanks for the ride.” You smiled and guided Aspen down the steps and out onto the gravel drive. She panted anxiously as Connie adjusted the straps on his lone bag and pushed his long hair off of his face. 

“First thoughts?” Connie asked, looking back at you as he rested his hands on his hips. 

“It’s beautiful.” You smiled brightly at him, but you were distracted by the squeaks of the suspension as the two girls climbed down the steps. They also only carried one bag each, they looked as if they had seen better days. Or at least, you hoped that they had. The taller girl was keeping the other girl upright as she struggled to stand on her own. 

“Someone looks like they partied.” Connie said before impulsively scratching his head, hazel eyes squinting as he hit the itchy spot. You looked back once more at the girls before your attention was turned to a chipper woman who ambled down the old porch stairs. Your eyes widened as she booked it down the hill at record speed, her arms swinging to keep her balance. Once she reached the bus, she took a few steadying breaths before swinging her arm toward the arch that the bus was parked under. You followed her hand and smiled, the bold letters spelled out- 

“Welcome to Turning Point.” The brunette smirked and straightened up, pushing her bangs out of her face. 

“Hange!” Connie opened his arms and jogged up to her, but the brunette caught him by his forehead, her eyes narrowed at him as she used her other hand to hold him at bay by his shoulder. 

“Hold it right there Shaggy, I know how you operate.” Connie sulked and pushed his bottom lip out and went limp in her grasp. 

“Gotta watch out for this one, he has surprisingly soft hands.” Hange said with a wink and you raised a brow, suddenly as she scanned over the other two girls. 

“But enough about that!” Hange said, suddenly shoving Connie away, he swung his arms as he tried to fight for his balance. You had been so interested in the exchange before you that you almost missed the two nurses jogging up after Hange. 

“Alright ladies, let’s get you all settled!” She said with a softer tone as she stooped to pick up their bags. The two nurses had finally caught up and both offered you smiles. 

“Hi, I’m Moblit, the head nurse here.” The dirty blonde man said, extending his hand to the smallest girl, who flinched at the motion, despite her reluctance he seemed to take it in stride. As Hange marched back up the hill you followed, feeling a bit lost and useless. 

“My name is Nifa.” the other nurse introduced herself as she blew some of her strawberry blonde hair out of her face. 

“I’m (Y/n), I’m the new counselor here.” You said with a slightly forced smile as Nifa nodded as the group of people slowly began migrating up the hill. 

“Excellent! I’ll be showing you ladies around this afternoon!” Hange said enthusiastically as she heaved one of the bags over her shoulder. 

“Hey what about me!” Connie whined as he readjusted his bag and pushed his tangled hair out of his face. 

“He’ll be out soon Connie!” Hange called over her shoulder as she pushed onwards, Nifa excused herself and went to help the other girl who seemed a bit jittery. You tailed the group, Aspen eagerly pulling at the leash, trying to take in all of the new surroundings, you glanced back at the bus one final time. Lavern must have managed to close the doors, because Connie was now banging on the bus door, his palm slapping loudly against the glass as Lavern cackled in the driver’s seat. You smiled and turned forward once more, focusing on keeping Aspen from chasing a small gaggle of geese that was crossing the dirt path in front of you. 

“I’ll have Mike show you the kennels.” Hange shouted over her shoulder, you nodded in understanding, you felt bad for Aspen, but you knew that it would be best for her to sleep in the kennel. 

“Okay thank you.” You said appreciatively as you managed to regain Aspen’s attention, the two of you still trailing behind the group. 

“Hange, Nifa and I can handle getting these two settled in if you would like to show (Y/n) around.” Moblit said with a soft smile as he adjusted his grip on the small girl. 

“Alright, only if you’re sure.” Hange sighed as she set the bags down by the top of the stairs. 

“We’ve got them.” Nifa said reassuringly as the pair continued on into the house while you and Hange remained out on the porch. 

The screen door slammed loudly behind them as they ascended the stairs, where you assumed the rooms were. You could hear a commotion going on somewhere in the house, the sound of pots banging followed by some colorful curse words. 

“Ah our lovely chef Niccolo, you’ll meet him tonight.” Hange informed you as she steered you in the direction of the pole barn to the left of the house. 

“Oh wow, what kind of meals do you guys usually have?” You asked, leaning down to pet Aspen, who was panting loudly. 

“You know, the balanced ones.” Hange said coyly, waving her wrist around dismissively. 

“Oh I almost forgot!” Hange slammed her fist against the door a few times, the flimsy screen door rattling at the impact. 

“Levi! Connie is at the base of the hill waiting for you!” She called into the house. The far off sound of a toilet flushing and then one of the doors that lined the front hallway swung open. A man wearing a bandanna over his mouth and hair emerged, bright yellow gloves covering the majority of his arms. He wore a jean jacket that looked well worn, a cream colored turtleneck  underneath, and a pair of black jeans as well as old brown work boots. He sighed and peeled the gloves off of his hands as he stalked out of the house, pushing past the door he spared you a fleeting glance before shoving his yellow gloves into your chest. Aspen sniffed at his pants leg as he glared at Hange. He pulled the bandannas off of his head to reveal his inky black undercut, which was surprisingly well kept. 

“And you left him unattended?” He growled as you struggled to catch the rubber gloves. 

“He’s fine, look he’s waiting patiently for you!” Hange held her arm out towards where the bus was pulling off towards the pole barn, Connie was giving chase, his long hair flowing behind him as he booked it after the bus. Levi groaned and shot a chilling glare at Hange who shrugged. 

“I’ll be back.” Levi grumbled as he walked down the stairs with a little bit of a hustle in his step. 

“Oh I almost forgot! He’s got a bad case this time!” Hange called after Levi as he marched across the large lawn. Levi turned and glared as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a pair of blue latex gloves which he snapped on over his hands. Hange cackled as she watched him ball his hands into fists and you let the rubber gloves in your hands fall to your sides as you stared after him. You then turned to look at them and frowned, what were you, his mom? You stalked over to one of the small tables that were by the rocking chairs and set them down with a scoff. 

“Right then, back on task!” Hange chirped as she turned to head in the opposite direction that Levi had gone in. Hange led you through the large yard, all the way out to the barn, where she showed you the facilities’s therapy animals, that also doubled as a source of income, the cows were used for milk, goats as well, sheep for wool. It was rather efficient, the space was clean and you could tell that Aspen was already falling in love with the sheep. 

Behind the barn was the chicken coop and the duck pen, both of which were butchered and used for eggs respectively. Hange showed you the storage room where the feed and other tools were kept. 

“But you won’t have to worry too much about the animals, that’s Mike’s job.” Hange explained as she steered you towards the stables. The large building was filled with beautiful horses, which were already fed and watered for the evening. She explained that they were used mostly for the cattle that free roamed the acres that the farm owned. She also assured you that you would get to learn how to corral the cattle, something about: “Erwin made that a team effort.” you had smiled and nodded. Even though you had never ridden a horse in your damn life. 

Next you trekked across to the pole barn, which had a large basketball court, as well as a few rooms for crafts and other group activities. Hange even showed you the living space that was on the upper level. 

“This is where Mike and Nanaba sleep.” She said, showing you the makeshift apartment that they had renovated to fit in the upper level of the barn. 

“Wow, this is so nice.” You complimented as Aspen sniffed at the table leg. 

“Ah she probably smells Buck, Mike’s red heeler.” Hange said with a chuckle, stooping down to scratch Aspen’s back. 

“She loves playing with other dogs.” you assured her as the two of you made your way out of the barn and back towards the house in the fading light. 

“Good, we got plenty of ‘em around here.” Hange huffed and you smiled, excited to meet all of the animals that the facility had to offer. 

“I’ll show you to the kennels and then to your room.” She did just that, helping you settle Aspen into her new home for the next year, where four other dogs were already chowing down on their dinner. A massive man with blonde hair and a scraggly beard was finishing up watering the dogs as the two of you entered. 

“Mike! This is our newbie (Y/n) and her dog Aspen.” Hange introduced you and you nodded politely at him as he grunted and stooped to greet your dog before you, which you only took minorly offensive. 

“Pleased to meet you.” He said in a gruff voice as he rose to his full height once more. 

“Likewise.” You said as you reached down to undo Aspen’s harness and put her away in the spacious kennel that was attached to the barn. Mike assured you that he would feed her for you and waved you and Hange off, mumbling about how you were disturbing his routine. 

Finally you and Hange wandered into the huge house. It had a porch that wrapped around the entire house, a front door and back door. The front door opened up into a hallway that went straight into the living room, which was very homey, on the right there was a bunch of doors that Hange explained were rooms that the staff used to sleep in whenever they had campers who tended to wander during the night. She then led you back towards the front of the house, going left where the dining room was, a series of mismatched tables that were currently being set by a brunette girl, her hands shaking as she worked. You could see how thin she was and your heart ached for her. Hange steered you towards the kitchen, where a blonde man was slaving away over the stove, along with two boys, one brunette and the other a dirty blonde. 

“Jean and Eren are on kitchen duty tonight, helping Niccolo.” Hange explained as you took a moment to watch the boys work. They were doing the dishes, Eren washing while Jean dried. The two of you then continued on with the tour, up the stairs to the second floor. Here was the rooms, none of them had doors, inside each was a simple bed and some minor personal flares. One of the most notable was a picture wall, neatly measured out to be a perfect square. From the distance you could make out at least three distinguishable faces, Eren, as well as two other kids, a girl with black hair and a blonde boy. A sudden crash made both you and Hange go rigid, the two of you marched down the hall to see the girl from earlier, the tallest one in a blinding rage. Nifa was trying her best to help the girl get unpacked but no matter how many times she put the clothes away, the girl just threw them out onto the floor. 

“Give me a moment please.” Hange excused herself as she stalked into the room and began speaking in a hushed tone to the girl who in turn screamed back. 

“I don’t care! I just want to be with her. Why is that so hard to understand!” She wailed before collapsing onto the bed, Hange sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her bicep soothingly. You watched with a worried expression as the girl tried to feebly push Hange off, her hand slapping pathetically against her chest. Hange looked on with a patient expression as she waited for her to calm down. Once the girl had tired herself out Nifa took over, finishing up the cleaning and then thanking Hange who slipped away from the slumped girl. 

“Okay, I think that’s enough for one day don’t you?” Hange sounded tired, as she led you back down the stairs and into one of the staff rooms. 

“Yes I agree.” You said with a slightly forced smile as you dropped your bag onto the bed. Hange reached into her jean pocket and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper. 

“Here’s the weekly schedule. Tonight I have you helping with detox for Connie, it’s gunna be a rough one.” Hange said with a sympathetic smile.

“Normally I wouldn’t give a rookie this responsibility but we’re shorthanded right now so…” 

“It’s fine I can manage.” You smiled and swept some hair out of your face. 

“Yeah and Zeke shouldn’t be in until tomorrow afternoon with the restock for the meds, so we’ll be roughing it tonight, it’ll be all hands on deck.” Hange mumbled with her hand on her chin as she thought. You nodded in understanding and shuffled a bit nervously. 

“But don’t worry, I won’t leave you completely alone, Levi will be with you. I’m sure the two of you will get along just fine.” Hange assured you. 

“Okay well do you want something to eat?” Hange offered with an apologetic smile. 

“Ah actually I think that I’ll handle this better on an empty stomach.” You grimaced and she nodded in understanding. 

“Well then, I better go help out Alice, she’s going to have a rough night.” Hange excused herself and you stared down at the crumpled paper in your hands, the list taking up the entirety of the page. You decided that you didn’t want to get into it at the moment, instead pushing the paper into your back pocket. You marched down the hall towards the basement door, where Hange had told you the detox room was. Basically it was a room with a toilet, shower, and a small cot. Once you reached the foot of the stairs you heard the gags, and the sound of heavy breathing. 

“-That’s it.” Levi’s baritone voice seemed to echo off of the empty basements walls from the crack in the door of the detox room. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Connie moaned and you heard Levi chuckle darkly. 

“I’m just trying to help you.” Levi said, voice surprisingly soft. 

“Yeah like you haven’t done enough already, cut my damn dreads, scrubbed me raw, threw out my shoes and took away my phone!” Connie sounded like he wasn’t too upset, which you admired briefly before you heard the sound of him purging again. 

“You know the rules, besides I couldn’t let you walk around looking like a hot mess.” You could hear the sound of a hand patting someone’s back and you assumed Levi was soothing Connie. You approached the door and rapped on the frame gently. 

“Who is it?” Levi’s voice seemed to harden with each syllable and you winced. 

“It’s me, Hange sent me to help you guys out.” You said, even though to you it seemed that Levi had things covered. 

“Come on in.” He welcomed and pushed inside the room, it was painted a soothing grey, with an open shower and toilet as well as a sink but no mirror. The bed was pressed against the corner and had only a thin blanket and a limp pillow. Levi and Connie were both crouched by the toilet, your eyes widened at Connie’s fresh haircut. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said that Levi had cut off his dreads. Connie now had a buzzcut, his peach fuzz exposed the skin on his scalp and on the back of his neck, which was littered with tiny red bites. You realized that it must have been lice, and you frowned but went to crouch on his other side. 

“Hey man.” You greeted with a weak smile. 

“Hey sexy.” Connie rested his cheek on his forearm as he turned his head to greet you. Levi scoffed and stood up to wet a washcloth. 

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, reaching behind him to run your fingertips gently over his scapula, he shivered and smiled a watery smile at you, sniffling slightly before composing himself. 

“Like fucking shit.” He laughed, but it held little to no humor. 

“I’m sure.” You sympathized and continued rubbing his back as he turned to look back into the bowl of the toilet as he dry heaved. Levi came back with the warm washcloth and draped it over the back of Connie’s neck and the boy shivered at the sensation. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Levi rest a heavy hand on your shoulder. 

“Hope you aren’t wearing anything too nice.” He said a bit wryly before releasing you and returning to his place next to Connie. 

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Love Story (Part 5) The Truth of Black Swan

The following Scene takes elements and themes from the novel scenes and game quests surrounding Akira and Kogure Sakurai and weaves them into the MCs journey in a way that is meaningful. This scene does not appear in the Novel or the Game.

Please Enjoy

You’re riding in the passenger side of Chance’s Audi R8, the city lights flashing across the pale makeup on your face. Caesar might have turned up his nose at the car, but you found it very stylish and unpretentious. It was a sports car you could drive to work. You stare out the window at the many people walking down the streets. Tokyo’s nightlife was just as vibrant as the daytime. Only, instead of being locked in the offices for work, people spilled into the streets to visit karaoke bars and eat street food. There were also plenty of couples holding hands and laughing. Girls in skirts and women in tight dresses walking with friends. Men in sports jackets and a few in suits and ties. The people your age were casual in t-shirts and jeans.

When you imagined going to the big city, it was something like this. Having lots of friends, going out on the town, enjoying food and walking under lights.

Chance’s phone vibrated. “Yes, she’s with me, we’re on our way to the safe spot, notify me of the all clear.”

His expression was grim and he spoke like a soldier reporting to his commander. You’d only seen him as a carefree guy but now he was acting as a member of the Devil Clan, a Yakuza organization. Looking up at this, you notice that he’s no less muscled than Caesar, but he was a bit more wiry and lithe.

“We’ll give it a couple of hours to let things calm down before taking you back.” He said, stuffing the phone in his pocket.

“Thanks,” you say. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did Izanami really love Izanagi?” You rest your head against the window.

“That’s a matter of philosophical debate, even among White King Descendents. Her motives were selfish. She fooled him and lied to him. But when he betrayed her, no one can deny her emotional reaction had to be rooted in some genuine attachment.” He maneuvered the car as he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road. “The common consensus is, for dragons, love is never the goal. It’s a means to an end. Once that end is fulfilled, love fades or dies completely. If the object of the dragon’s love refuses to cooperate with the end goal, that love can quickly turn to hatred. Humans pursue love for the sake of it. But Dragons do not. The emotions are real, but they’re not the goal.”

“That seems manipulative.” You say.

“It can be. Keep in mind that Izanagi wasn’t exactly the best example of human love either. Bottom line, it’s not good for humans and dragons to fall in love. They both will end up hurt somehow. But it does happen.”

He keeps driving until the city spires flatten to more residential spaces. You pull into a small park with rolling terraformed hills and tiled roof shelters. Chance killed the lights on his car and opened the door, getting out with a briefcase. “We can hide out here for a while.”

At the center of the park is a large dark lake. The stars couldn’t be seen over the lights of the city and the moon was shrouded by dense clouds. He leads you by the hand through a pea gravel path. You could feel your cheeks grow warm. The idea of running away to hide from the world with a man was depicted in TV shows you watched and in magazines you read, but now it was happening to you.

“It’s going to rain tonight, so let's stay under the shelter until we get the all clear.” He said.

He settled you down on a bench and sat next to you. He was handsome, with his red hair in his ponytail and his green eyes in the dark. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Now comes the hard part.” He opened the briefcase and took out a thin yellow folder.

“Ruri Kazama wanted me to give this to you.”

You accept the folder and open it. Much to your shock, you immediately recognize the title. Black Swan Harbor Initiative! 

“You’re from Siberia right?” He looks at you. Those eyes glittered like jewels.

“Where did you get this?” You ask, anxiously flipping through the pages. There were photos of Black Swan Bay, just as you remembered it. There were even photos of orphans that you remembered, ghosts of the past. Vera, Khorkina, Anton… you pause. A knife of pain piercing your heart.

Renata’s picture stared at you, smiling from the yellowing paper, her eyes sparkled too, even in black and white.

“Ruri Kazama had it. I don’t know what it all means or where he got it from.” He reaches over and flips the pages back to the beginning. “He wants you to understand your situation. The reason why Black Swan Harbor was created. Black Swan Bay was like a dragon graveyard. Even though Cassell holds a lot of ancient artifacts, Black Swan Bay had the actual specimens for direct study of the creatures. You were created there as part of a study on making perfect, super hybrids.”

“What?” You whisper.

“I’m only telling you what I read. None of this makes sense to me either. You’re an 18 year old girl from 20 years ago. I…” He shook his head. “It must have to do with your bloodline, that you can rest so long and retain your youth. Anyway, because you’re not perfect, you will eventually become a deadpool. You’re a ghost. There’s no changing this.” 

He flipped over a page in the folder leading to Anton’s file. “This is from one of the research papers. The average lifespan of the Black Swan Bay children is 20 years before they lose their grip on humanity. This orphan was eliminated because he’d reached the end of his life.”

You stare blankly at the page. You remembered Dr. Herzog tested hybrid children thoroughly and then, around age 20, some were selected to go to school in Moscow. Back then, you had excitedly chatted with Z about how one year you might be selected. But instead of feeling excited for you, he led you to a lab. There, you saw Anton, who had been selected to go to the capital, sitting in a wheelchair. Despite his power to stop a bullet, he couldn’t stand.

Dr. Herzog was like your father. So your mind rejected his words when he said that going to Moscow was a lie. And when he shot and killed Anton, it was something your mind couldn’t fully process. This all happened 20 years ago but for you it was only a few weeks ago, and you realized you still couldn’t process it. It was like a missing puzzle piece, floating on the side table, waiting for its place in the picture. And now it snapped into place. 

Anton wasn’t ever going to Moscow. None of you were. Khorkina, Vera, Renata… You were all going to die by euthanasia. As deadpool.

Chance reached over and massaged your shoulder silently. You closed your eyes. No wonder Ruri Kazama told you that you were a perishing flower. No wonder he sang that happiness was fleeting. Ruri Kazama knew that you were going to turn into Deadpool. That you were going to die.

“So I only have a year and a half left?” You ask after a moment.

“I’m afraid that’s the maximum. You might have even less. I’m sorry.” Chance says. He drops his hand in his lap.

You take a deep breath, absorbing this terrible blow in still silence. “Thank you for telling me. I will show this to Caesar.” You close the folder and sigh again. Your hands are pinching each other hard to stem your roiling emotions.

Chance marvels at your reaction. “You’re a really strong woman. A lot of people would scream and cry in denial at this news.”

“I’m strong because my friends are strong.” You look out over the water, expressionless. The reflection of the moon peeked from its cloudy veil. It rippled but when it stilled, you could see the shadow of the moon, shaped like a rabbit. You weren’t sure what you could do to stop this eventual demise. Caesar promised he wouldn’t let you die. No… it wasn’t a promise, he just wouldn’t let it happen.

“Hm.” He chuckled, elbowing you. “Do I still have a chance to get a star-heart ticket?” He was attempting to lighten the mood.

You allow yourself the distraction. “Maybe.” You smirk and swing your legs under the bench. The wind was starting to blow, bringing the smell of rain, pulling leaves and cherry blossoms down from the trees to land on the water and make little ripples. The gusts disturbed the glassy water. It wasn’t the time for cherry blossoms, but odd weather had caused them to bloom twice this year. “Let me ask you something to test you. Do you seek death?”

Chance gave it some thought. “It’s not a matter of seeking it. I know it's coming. I just try not to think about the future. Live my life one day at a time, appreciate every moment.”

You nod and your eyebrows lift. It was a good answer. “I’ll ask you something else. Given the circumstances, if you knew you had to give up your life so I could live, would you do it?”

He laughed. “In a heartbeat!”

You turn to him and frown.

“What? Don't tell me you don’t like that answer. What do you expect me to say? It’s an honor for a man to give up his life for a lovely woman.” The stiff breeze had teased some hair out of your comb. He brushes your hair  from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The wind stirs the flowers in your hair while he watched you.

You shake your head. “Well, in that case, you’re not getting a star heart ticket.” You cross your arms and look away

“Oh come on, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” He leaned forward, trying to catch your gaze when you turned away from him. “What am I supposed to do? Just let you die? Look at you! You’re beautiful and smart and … and… you’re so strong!” Chance was shaking his head in confusion. “If that’s not the right thing to do, please tell me the answer.”

You turn to him again, your eyes blazing. “And you’re not beautiful and resourceful and strong? Why is my life, somehow, worth more than yours?”

Chance’s good humor suddenly fades and he lowers his eyes, damping his mood like a lantern lowering its wick. He turned back to face the lake, looking down on the ground, but his mind was somewhere far away. When he speaks again, it’s with a lump in his throat. He swallows hard. “You have people. I don’t have anyone any more.”

You knew that look. You had that look. It was the look of someone who had nothing else to lose, so why not give up his life for you? You reach out and put your hand over his and look him in the eye, even as the fires of grief ignite in your chest.

“The Hydra came for my family last week. We all lived in the same apartment block, but we’d never done anything. We were just an extended family buying out condos and dealing in real estate. But they were merciless. All my brothers and their wives were killed and f…” His voice caught and his eyes sparkled with tears. “My five nieces and nephews were taken prisoner.”

“Prisoner?”

“Yes!” His voice turned hoarse in distress. “Back in World War II, Hydra had these black prisons to lock up unstable hybrids. When the government found out about them, they ordered them closed. But twenty years ago, they started operating them again. If you resist and fight, they kill you. If you give yourself up… they lock you away in those prisons forever. I had been working when the raid happened. When I turned the corner on my way home, the whole apartment block was on fire! There was nothing I could do, so I ran away. That’s how I ended up at Club Takamagahara. That’s where Ruri Kazama found me.”

He turns back to you, his green eyes as dark as an endless forest. “It’s either death or prison and then death for me. So if I can make my death mean you get to go free and shine under the sun like you did tonight… I will absolutely take that.”

Your heartaches in sympathy. You scoot closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder and he wraps his strong arm around you and holds you close. “You’re not going to accept my next words, Chance. Because I didn’t want to accept them either. But I will say them because they’re the truth. Chance… you have to live.”

He let out a single bitter laugh, but he turned away and blinked away tears. “Didn’t you listen? Life isn’t in the cards.”

“You think it isn’t. I didn’t think so either.” You reach up and turn his face back to you. The tears wet your fingertips and sink into our nails. You’re willing him to listen but you understand that it might just be too difficult to accept. “But… you will be shocked at how long you can live if you really try.”

“What? Really try? Are you saying my whole family didn’t try hard enough?” His voice breaks with grief and anger.

“That’s not what I’m saying. If death comes then it does, but what I’m saying is, you shouldn't just… give up your life. Not for me. Not for anyone. Make death fight you for it.” You whisper. Your throat hurts. Your eyes burned..

“And then if I don't give up my life for you… what will happen to you?” Tears were slipping down his face and he trembled against you.

“I will fight too.” You reach out and twine your fingers in his hair. “We will both fight death.” You look up at him, determination filling your dark eyes, defying reality. You knew he probably thought you were a fool, that you were just fantasizing that you could both fight the fate you were given, hit the ball out of the park, and live happily ever after. “What’s the point of love if you both don’t make it out? If Izanami taught me anything, it’s better to end up in the Yomi-No-Kuni together.”

He sighed softly and he leaned forward until your noses touched, your faces wrapped in night shadow. “You already gave me permission.” He whispered.

“I know…” You rise up to meet him halfway. This kiss was nothing like Z’s. Z took you like something that belonged to him. In this case, your kiss was a gift, a bow to tie your words in an oath upon his heart. 

Chance was overcome. He rested his head against your neck, crying. He held you so tightly your ribs resisted against his arms to breathe. You held him like that until his sobs subsided. But you were in no hurry to part, instead you leaned against each other, watching the wind play against the water until your emotions calmed. Every few minutes, he would sigh deeply and kiss your cheek.

In the distance, thunder rolled. Chance’s phone buzzed. He reached down and looked down at it. “That's all clear. Let’s go.” He gave you one more kiss. “Here, you keep this.” He tucked the folder into your dress. “Thank you. I..” He paused for a moment and then just stood up.

He doesn’t remove his hand from yours as you make your way back to the car, but as you’re turning the corner on the path to the parking lot, he yanks you back! “Damn it!” He hisses.

The car was surrounded by men in black trench coats armed with swords and powerful guns. The way out of the park was blocked by a huge van. The park was so small, it would only take a minute to penetrate the entire space and there was nowhere to hide. Chance urgently whispers. “Quick! Let’s go to the other side!” 

How could they have found you? Kaguya?

There was no way to hurry and stay silent. The pea gravel made too much noise. If you stepped off the path the surrounding vegetation rustled against your clothing. You can only use your method of stepping in his foot prints to hide your own sound and it was hard in your ornate gown. Your heart was screaming with adrenaline as you started to hear voices behind you. In the back of the park, behind the trees and fountains, there was a high eight foot stone wall that enclosed it from the rest of the neighborhood. You hurry to it.

“I’ll lift you over the wall!” He said. “If you jump, you can make it over!”

“No, I’m not leaving you. We need to find a way out together.” You say, planting your feet.

“You’re serious? There’s no way! We can’t fight all those guys!” He hissed.

More voices are coming. You must have been heard! Bright beaming flashlights are sweeping the park. The men from Hydra are bounding up the hill behind you! The group fanned out. One member was sweeping up against the wall you were next to and heading straight for you. More voices are coming from the opposite direction up the path ahead of you. Apparently, the Hydra following you had alerted more men on the other side of the park who were coming around the other side to encircle you and cut off your escape.

Chance pulled you along the wall and together you crawled carefully against it, staying away from the ones approaching from behind and getting to the other side of this dragnet. As you came close to those approaching from the front, you noticed that there was no one sweeping the wall! If you could sneak past through this gap, you could make it past them!

You hurry through the gap and crouch still. The Hydra were only a few feet from you. You could see the shine of their leather shoes and hear them talking, but you couldn’t understand their Japanese. One of them laughed.  All they had to do was sweep their flashlights to their right to find you. You both hold your breath even though you felt breathless from running and staying low to the ground. You tremble there until their shoes turn away. Their footsteps finally started to fade, but you couldn’t wait for them to fade completely. 

“There’s a backgate this way.” Chance whispered as quietly as he could.

You could see it. It was covered in vines and looked like a maintenance entrance. It didn’t look locked but even if it was, it was less than four feet high  and you can both make it over. Your heart beams with hope. He returns your smile. You couldn’t wait to tell Caesar. He was right. His justice was right. You don't have to leave friends behind.

A sudden sharp hiss and a burst of wind rushes by your head! A silver projectile blade cut through the air and embedded itself into Chance's calf! Chance gasped and howled in agony! He fell to the ground, clutching his leg. You scurry towards the gate and dive behind a statue of a praying Buddha.

Chance is writhing on the ground, and moving away from something looming in the dark. Someone is approaching him as he scoots frantically away, begging. “No… No!  No! Please!”

Out of the shadows steps a young dark haired man. His silver-blue long sword glowed in the dark like a shattered piece of moonlight. His trenchcoat caught the air and it waved like the hem of the Grim Reaper’s cloak. He stood over Chance like a towering god, gazing at him with frigid black eyes.

Chisei Gen!

[criticalbread]

no one’s ever eaten love

My dad was born with two names, his and his father’s, in a brick house near the graveyard that’s got a cedar at its heart. My dad was born in the heart of a hundred lakes where winter never thinks to rest and burn the guava leaves but maybe once a decade. My granny his mother’s family had been in this small, central Florida town since at least the 1910s. His pa had come down from Doerun, Georgia in a Model-T with his brothers. His parents met on the bus to the orange packing plant; pa drove it. Did he? Or was he riding, too? I haven’t heard this story since I was a kid made mostly of knees. But I know my dad grew up out in the boonies. Where you have to drive through the back roads past doublewides and brick houses each with their own acres stretched out like a lady’s skirts, if only they were nicer and not filled with ATVs and old tires and older trucks, junk sheds, holey boats. Past orange groves, cow fields, pine scrubs, the drained swamps. Down the old road, over the railroad tracks like a humped back, down a street with only four or five houses and Granny and Pa’s converted doublewide right near the end. The road past that was dirt and gravel, down past more cow grazing belonging to my uncle snap and towards the power plant. Pa used to stick us in the back of his old truck and drive us down with the gravel rasping and barking up under the chassis, cows on one side and pines n palmettos whizzing past on the other, then back down the road so we could lean over the fences and pick the oranges that hung over. They’re public property when they grow over the fence. Everyone knows that. I know my dad grew up there, with pine scrubs on one side of the road and their house and the swamp on the other. I know they kept pigs when he was growing up- hogs- and that he and his sisters would run around the scrubs barefoot playing their games with the other kids. Hide and seek in the orange grove before it was fenced and before there were laws to keep the trees below a certain height, so that they’d grow up so tall and bushy with limbs and leaves that a small boy could slide down from the top like down a snowy hill and land at the bottom just fine. They used to poke holes in the oranges with their pocket knives and stick a straw in to drink em. They’d run into the scrubs and down the left into the treed hollow near the train tracks where they’d fish for bass and swim in the pond, regardless of gators. They’d pick whole buckets of huckleberries in the scrubs even though they’re so small it’d take hours, then Granny would make pies and cobblers. They had a whole huge garden in the black peat soil off the edge of the swamp, the kind of good dirt that’s gotta be tilled up barefoot. Rows sixty feet long of green beans and corn and maybe crooknecks, maybe onions, and when the kids would get home from school they’d do their homework then do their gardenwork, and that’s the only way any of them got to eat vegetables was growing them cause they were too poor otherwise to buy em. Every night before bed dad would eat two Moon Pies and a glass of chocolate milk. He found an arrowhead and a spearhead in the soil and kept them to give to me like treasures, like he knew I’d dream of being an archaeologist all my life. That’s what I know about my dad growing up there. I know Granny would make what she called dirty rice and other people call stick-of-butter rice because that’s what went into it and made it so tasty: rice, canned beef consomme, canned french onion soup, canned mushrooms, and a whole stick of butter, baked in a dish. It’s cheap, and delicious, and like he did I ate it growing up, too. Just like I also grew up eating her pea salad which no one but us likes because it’s just canned peas, mayo, ranch, garlic powder, and (once my french canadian scot of a mum got her hands on the recipe) vinegar. I didn’t eat these until I was a teen, less picky, and growing up I know my Granny fretted about how all I wanted was peanut butter and french fries, cranberry sauce and the syrup out of the canned cherries. Won’t you try the dumplings, Leecey? Won’t you have some cornbread? Do you want some of these green beans, Leecey? The chicken and yellow rice? I’ll even pick the chicken out for you.  I never ate em, and instead she made me peanut butter sandwiches, whole piles of french fries from the freezer, oil in the pot, just for me. All the milk I could drink, just for me. Chocolate milk but no moon pies. I eat all those things, now. I’m sorry I never ate the ones you made, Granny. I sometimes make her recipes like an apology, now, or like a thumbed nose when people act like our poverty food is anything less than ingenious. The dirty rice is rich and savory and filling; the pea salad makes even the little kids wanna eat the green stuff. “’Bout make your tongue slap your brains out.” My dad’s favorite descriptor. Or mine of his. I know I can’t eat memories. I can’t eat guilt. And my dad knows nobody, not him, his sisters, his family-- none of us can live off shame, or even pride, and no one’s ever eaten love. If we could eat it, we’d live a thousand years. Things are different, to live with your cheek pressed up against the memory of poverty and with its shape in your mouth like a sore tooth. Things are different when the orange trees are kept short, and the huckleberries don’t produce the same anymore when the rains have changed. There’s no more bobcats or panthers crossing the road in the mornings out at the farm. No more barefoot kids. There’s a red hawk that screamed every morning in our neighborhood on the edges of suburbia-- more drained swamps, more unbought plots of oak and pine woods in between every dozenth house. He remembered the swamps better and worse than I can.  My dad with his two names remembers best of us all. He’s caught all his sore teeth down on love, and I know his feet are still bare in the good dirt.

[tacosaysroar]

5

1) If I fill my front garden bed with pea gravel instead of mulch, will it allow bulbs to poke through in the spring? Or will it be too heavy? (Is this a stupid question?)

2) I screened Enola Holmes to see if it was ok for Adelaide and look forward to watching it again with her. One of my non-feminism-centered takeaways? Henry Cavill should always ALWAYS wear his hair that length. Those beautiful curls. Wow.

3) If I had my choice of any wild animal on Earth to tame, I’d pick a wolf. I had this thought the other day while driving and can’t seem to stop mulling it over.

4) A coworker asked me today if I thought I was done having children. I’m 41 with no current partner. My feelings on this are very complicated. I don’t think this is a discussion you want to have with me at 10:00 am . . . Or, you know . . . ever.

5) I lift my hair up away from my neck when I sleep, spreading it across the pillow to one side or around my head like a corona. (2020 has really ruined that word.) I like the way it feels against my cheek when I turn my head toward it.

[the-deeds-to-shibden]

Sunday 15 September 1839

[Sadly, the bugs did bite Ann the previous night. But she is rewarded by the finest view she has ever seen, the bay of Vyborg, and sketches its fortress. Meanwhile, Anne is appreciative of the local costumes and food, and as usual entranced by the botany and geology.  She even tastes the local seawater! Anne’s trusty parasol comes handy in scientific enquiry, not for the first or the last time. Her own sketch, of a bridge, is, uh, not very accomplished, but the engineering detail is recognisable. As ever on this overland trip to St. Petersburg, which is nearing its end, Anne writes and writes and writes, and this day’s entry is *very* full of researchable detail, including a stately home they pass by, which is perfectly identifiable from her notes, and which has a slightly tenuous lesbian connection...]

[up at] 4 3/4

[to bed at] 10 1/4

Damp morning Fahrenheit 60 1/2º at 5 a.m. I am all ready now at 5 35/”  no coach house therefore paid for man watching the carriage last night -/50 and paid Gross this morning for paid yesterday for ditto ditto –  -/50 – with all the exertion I have made it is  6 3/” when we get off – 3 minutes later than the time –  damp hazy morning – forest immediately on leaving the station neither of us slept well last night – Ann much bit –  we had nothing but plates and cups and saucers and knives and forks and table linen and our one double bedded room and servants room and paid 4/20 – Scotch fir this morning barked all round for a yard or 2 from the ground     at 6 20/” little distant left fjord or lake – road red coarse as yesterday sandy but good tho’ much rain in the night – forest and little breaks all the way to Säcjarvi at 7 1/2 a lone house in the forest – small but goodish – as the gentleman said yesterday at Högfors one might sleep at

 Nisalak 15 1/6 v[ersts]              Helsingfors 237 v[ersts]

Urpala    16 4/6 v[ersts]              Wiborg 44 1/2 v[ersts]

                                                  St. Petersburg 181 v[ersts]

Säcjarvi but Urpala seems a good deal the better of the two –  same sort of forest and road as yesterday but less population and boulders not so strikingly large –  the soil here a fine red gravel as yesterday and many examples of gravel-conglomerate boulders –  more cattle this morning than ever before since Åbo – no sheep today as yet – so few in those northern countries can only be just enough to supply the inhabitants with wool and a little cheese and mutton – they salt the legs (the hams) for winter – the Russian male costume this morning very pretty and picturesque a white frock coat and red belt – or blue or dark and often bound with the same – the women wear a strong linen? dark with narrow red stripes for petticoats and a boddice a jacket           .             .              .         and a white handkerchief on the head – they all weave the red striped stuff – and I have seen many men wear it for jackets and trowsers 

8 25/” several baggage little waggons and 1 horse and some soldiers on foot now at 8 25/” just crossed little bridge over little stream and crossed a broader stream some time ago the only two streams this stage so far – the forest too less swampy than the forests yesterday at 8 3/4 considerable break in the forest – unpainted hamlet (we pass thro’) – one of the largest flocks of sheep we have seen (recently shorn) – log houses the trees not flattened big boulders all among the cottages – peasants wear black leather gloves like our hedging mittens – hardly out of the hamlet before the young forest begins again (Scotch fir and birch, alder bushes everywhere in the swampy places) – but more break, and fields another hamlet (scattered) at 8 55/” and at 9 over neat little ochre-yellow and white-seamed station house at Nisalaks the older portion of the house under the same room unpainted flattened log-house – breakfast boiled milk and Wiborg (criks?)

Wiburg 29 2/6                Helsingfors 252 1/2

Säcjarvi 15 1/6               St. Petersburg 165 5/6

Kiskila 14 1/6

  bread tied up in a  sort of rose – and made tea, and took my pint bottle full away with us – all  ready at 10 – off at 10 20/” from Nisalax we should have lived better here than we did at Urpala, I suspect –  nice little station – a little meat on the fire boiling when we came in, and our milk ready in 10 minutes or 1/6 hour – In 5 minutes pass thro’ the little hamlet – and then rocky forest and big boulders again road coarse red sandy as before but good – forest, till 11 1/4  good river – 2 or 3 good wood yellow painted houses scattered about and little unpainted scattered hamlet – nice bit of open cultivated country – then road red sand (but good) and the soil red sand – still damp and rather hazy – (Reading Handbook article Moscow) – soon forest again – at 11 3/4 look down upon beyond us (left) the handsomest gentleman’s house we have seen in Finland, surrounded with park-like grounds – little hamlet scattered hereabouts –  house and 2 wings – white with pea green roof – at 11 51/”  our neat good yellow and white pilastered station at Kaskilä and broad sheet of water at a little distance –  front – another pavillion-like gentleman’s house almost in front (to the right) from our station yellow with pea green roof and white corners and a white hexastyle portico (with pediment – the gable end) fancifully painted coach houses and stabling and unpainted barns and cottages scattered about the fine sheet of water coming close to the house – very pretty

Wiborg                    15 1/6                            Niserlax        14 1/6

St. Petersburg 153 2/3                                 Helsingfors  266 ½

 hue – our stage last night to Urpala very picturesque – and ditto this morning – big boulders again conglomerate red granite as yesterday picturesque foresty stage to here – corn (rye) out in cocks here – soon Scotch fir forest again – the cranberry and moss and heather dispute as usual possession of the rock and boulder –  12 7/” a little farm and 2 little stacks of corn thatched with straw and then spruce branches laid on the tops – here and everywhere about they lay Spruce fir branches at the doors to keep one clean instead of mats when it is dirty as it always must be in wet weather was this custom of strewing branches in this way (as palm branches as our Saviour rode along etc.) originally to keep one out of the dirt? now at 12 50/” sandy and heavy road up hill in the forest – at 1 from the top of hill Wiborg in sight, and its fine islandy fjord, immense expanse of water and 10 arch wood bridge over arm of the fjord on left to which we wind down and cross (deals and big boulders) now a 1 7/” – beautiful wooded islandy expanse of water on each side – very fine drive from here –  at 1 10/” cross another 10 arch wooden bridge – the large square tower and 3 small pointed towers of Wiborg full in view left from the bridge – fine wooded drive from here – the water right – damp very small drizzling rain – bouldery common just before entering Wiborg – at 1 20/” the 1st barrier and archway –  then a 2nd archway and water and wood bridge 13 arches to cross a steamer lying at the quai – very fine view of fjord and tower, the old, brick castle close (right) on a little island – this was the large square tower I saw at the top of hill at 1 –  enter the town at 1 25/” – at the Society’s house good Inn at 1 1/2 –   sent Gross with my passport to the police – asleep –  could not be seen till 3 – had my hair done and Ann and I out at 2 40/”  took Gross to shew us the police – close to the gate by which we entered the town – recrossed the bridge on 20 wood pillars piers each formed of 5 –  then up the fort-hill – near the bridge right on entering the town – beautiful view of the fjord and suburb to the westward – returned by the water side – observed the big pieces of red felspar in the porphyritic (conglomerate?) of the rocks – then on passing the bridge again and reentering the town turned left along the rampart – Ann stood sketching the old brick castle on a little island fjord or round moat all round – Ann sketched the old castle – its tower octagon that looked square in the distance – the 3 upper stories of the tower seem roofless –  the fjord on this side (towards the sea) very beautiful islandy and wooded as far as one can see – the water on the opposite side the tower very picturesque but more like a pretty islandy lake –  Deal sheds – a large raff yard near left (looking northwards) and little unpainted hamlet scattered a long way along the water’s edge – hamlets, too, right, and nearer, sweeping round to the town, a large handsome suburb with good church yellow with red roof and tower cupola pea green – Viborg a large town taking in its suburbs – a large handsome church in the large square opposite our Inn – 2/3 the men one sees are soldiers in their long, plaited-in-behind fawn-grey great coats – they look like monks or women? then along the rampart to a little postern gate – went out came in at 5 1/4 dinner at 6 to 6 3/4  out at 7 for a  minute or 2 to see the church en face  by it about 1/2 way or more towards the good suburb –  then turned (right) towards the sea, along the outside rampart breast-work, of the fortress –  went to the water’s edge – tasted the water – merely a little brackish – not at all salt – beautiful  view from a round knoll of bare granite rock of  each pier formed of five uprights with a spur from each side of the foot of each upright

on the top of the rock (right, on entering the town – and close to the bridge – some sort of fortification there) on the top of the rock large where bare, observed the same ochre-yellow moss I saw on the large old oaks in the park at Stockholm – and in returning by the water side a little of the blood-red moss I first observed north of Upsala – scraped a little off with the point of my parasol stick – it was pulpy and vegetable-like – tho’ the water trickling down it, made it look shining and so like recent blood, I almost thought at 1st (there being but a little patch of it) that it might be blood –   the wide-expanded, lovely, wooded amphitheatric islandy fjord – the light at 4 3/4, beautiful – the dark distant boundary of pine forest backing the smooth light water very fine – Ann thought she had never admired a scene more –  2 brigs on the stocks here (little trading vessels) returned by the gate nearest the sea, the road winding within the outworks – then sauntered along the rampart within the walls – very fine view, nearly the same as before, of the fjord, but saw rather more of it – good town – a  regular fortress – reminded me in this respect of Rocroi where we slept last year –  came in at 5 1/4 – wrote a little dinner at 6 –  very good fried Sprax a fish tasting a little like carp? excellent veal cutlet with currants on the top and lemon and I ate it with excellent preserved raspberry, and we very good preserved green gooseberries looking like olives and preserved candied lemon, and sago pudding, and good coffee afterwards –   after dinner the opposite church door open, went in for a minute or 2 – a sort of priest or man about the church came to see what we should do – 2 candles burning at 2 silvery shrines –  but nobody in the church – too dark to see much – back at 7 1/4  and had Grotza, but so long about getting and paying for Podoroshna and changing money and paying the bills that it was after 9 before all this was done –  the small damp rain and haze cleared off between 2 and 3 p.m. and afterwards fine afternoon and evening Fahrenheit 58º now at 9 10/” p.m. our bill 16/20 – could get no copper money – pretended they had difficulty in giving me 2 five kopek pieces change against the bill – and in charging my money they gave me two 25 kopeck bills and one 5 kopek – 55 Rubles for my Finnish rubel notes some kopek notes 75s and a few 50s  

Anne’s marginal notes:

Russian costume

men black beavers with buckles

+

=

strewing Spruce branches instead of mats

WYAS pages:  SH:7/ML/TR/14/0005     SH:7/ML/TR/14/0006    SH:7/ML/TR/14/0007     SH:7/ML/TR/14/0008

“Wiborg bread tied up in a sort of rose” that Anne and Ann had at Nisalahti (today’s Chulkovo) station during this leg (click here for a recipe):

“another pavillion-like gentleman’s house almost in front (to the right) from our station yellow with pea green roof and white corners and a white hexastyle portico (with pediment – the gable end)” - the house Anne saw on the way and described thus is the main building of Kiiskilä Manor, where members of an important family of 19th-century Finnish intellectuals grew up, including Helmi Krohn, the first biographer of “the Sappho of Finland”, Isa Asp (image source):

A view of Vyborg in 1837, by Pehr Adolf Kruskopf (image source): 

The Vyborg Society House (left), the inn where Anne and Ann stayed in Vyborg (image source). The building was destroyed during the Continuation War.

Vyborg around 1938, including the castle and the Fortress Bridge (image source), an earlier (but similar) incarnation of which Anne sketched in her journal in 1839:

The Fortres Bridge in the early 18th century (image source):

and in Anne’s sketch:

A view of Vyborg Castle, by Torsten Wilhelm Forstén,  from 1840, a year after Anne and Ann saw it - and Ann sketched it (image source):

A view of Vyborg bay - “ Ann thought she had never admired a scene more“ (image source):