#these were really just meant to be color refs to begin with but i got distracted rendering the metal textures again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onceuponaloonatic · 4 years ago

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i feel so bad for not posting much because of school :( engineering really is rough :( anyway to attempt to make up for it, here’s a snippt of a samo draft of mine. keep in mind it’s pretty rough and at least two years old so i’m sorry it’s bad. i just wanted to post something and was like hey let’s post some samo content. also this isn’t nessicarly the beginning of the draft so if the timing and pacing seems weird i’m sorry. enjoy!

The cheers were ringing loudly in Momo’s ringing ears, sweat dripping down her back. Her heart was pounding rapidly and her legs were sore as she ran but she absolutely loved it. There was nothing like the adrenaline of a good game.

She smirked as she got the ball under her control. This was the best part. Make quick work of the left over defenders, line up the shot, and shoot. Her leg moved in a practiced motion as she aimed for the top left corner of the goal. She poured everything in her veins to her foot as it connected with the ball, launching it into the air. She held her breath, following the ball with her eyes. Excitement spiked within her as the ball flew past the goal keeper into the goal. She did it. Again.

A wide grin broke out on her face as her teammates wrapped her up in a huge hug and the crowd went absolutely wild. She lived for these moments.

Before she knew it, the ref was blowing his whistle and everyone was screaming. If she listened closely she could hear her name being chanted. She loved it. She was wrapped up in a huge team hug as the dangerously dark clouds started pouring rain. She didn’t care, she was too excited and too in the moment for anything to ruin it. She received hugs from her teammates and shook hands with the other team and finally she found her second favorite person on the universe waiting for her.

“Saki!” Momo grinned, opening her arms for a the little girl standing next to her coach. “Mama!” Saki ran forward and Momo lifted her, her legs still aching. “Mama Mama you won!” “That’s right princess,” Momo grinned, kissing Saki’s cheek. She could hear the tell tale signs of camera clicks and she knew she was going to be all over the sports news tomorrow but she didn’t care. She had her little girl in her arms and another victory under her belt. She felt invincible. If only her other half was here too.

Momo grinned at the thought of her wife. Victory meant sex and she had missed sex so much. Between her wife’s pregnancy hormones and her practice schedule Momo hadn’t been able to get lucky in weeks. She was craving sex so bad. She and Sana had made a deal a long time ago that every game won meant one round, and tournaments where they were separate were the best case scenario for Momo because when she got home she was allowed to chose whenever she wanted to cash her rounds in.

“Mama your the best,” Saki grinned. “Aren’t I Sak?” Momo kissed her baby’s cheeks again, having to avoid the team colors painted on her daughter’s face.

Momo and her teammates lingered on the field with Saki in her arms until they were all kicked out. Momo giggled with her teammates as they retreated into the locker room and she changed herself and Saki out of their matching soccer jerseys. Momo felt better to be in casual clothes, even if sweat and rain was still clinging to her skin. Saki was wide awake, excited for the team dinner they had planned.

“Have fun baby?” “It was super fun Mama,” Saki grinned, Momo pulling Saki’s shirt over her head.

“Can you go play with Auntie Seulgi while I call Mommy?” “Can you tell her I love her?” “Of course I will baby girl.” Momo grinned, kissing Saki’s cheek before waving over at her teammate who smiled and scooped the five year old up into her embrace. Momo pushed the door to the locker room open and found a secluded spot and quickly dialed her wife.

“Satang,” Momo cooed when the person on the other side picked up.

“Hi Momoring,” Sama muttered, her voice heavy with sleep. “How was the match?” “We won!” Momo smiled widely.

“That’s great! How’s Saki?” “She’s having the time of her life, we are going to dinner later and then resting for the next match.” Momo muttered. “How are things there? Is Mina driving you crazy?” “No, she’s just protective, she hasn’t let me touch anything.” Momo could hear a slight whine in her wife’s voice. “I’m pregnant not dying.” “Well you are seven months along, and we’ve had scares twice now, Mina is just doing what’s best for you.” “You don’t understand, she literally flips her shit whenever I get off the couch like I’m going to go into labor any second.” Momo could tell Sana rolled her eyes after her statement.

“Hm well if you want I can send her a threatening text.” “Mina’s not afraid of you,” Sana giggled. “I know, hey baby?” Momo sighed, changing the topic quickly.

“Hm?” Sana hummed sleep still heavy in her voice.

“I miss you.” “I miss you too.” Sana responded. “But the tournament is only another week, we’ll see each other soon.” “I know… I just… I love you a lot.” “I love you too you big nerd.” Sana muttered enduringly, followed by a low hiss.

“What’s wrong?” Momo asked panicked.

“Nothing, your child just kicked me, again.”

“She’s showing her love.” Momo smiled at the thought. “She can do it in a way that doesn’t involve literally kicking my insides.” Momo heard the sarcasm dripping from her wife’s tone. “Fuck she did it again, you little brat.” “She misses me,” Momo muttered. “You hear that baby girl Mama misses you too.” “Yeah yeah whatever Momo.” “Saki says she loves you.” Sana added.

“Tell her I love her too, and make sure she goes to bed sometime before the sun comes up.” “We’re great parents aren’t we?” “The best,” Sana responded. “Go have dinner with your friends, tomorrow is an off day right? I’ll face time you then okay?” “Okay,” Momo smiled. “I love you Satang.” Momo muttered in Japanese. “I love you too Momoring.” Sana responded in their native tongue. “Talk to you tomorrow?” “Talk to you tomorrow.” Momo grinned and pulled the phone away from her ear.

She practically skipped back to the locker room and collected her child before following the team to a celebratory dinner. She was offered multiple drinks, but she turned them down, instead opting for soda, going as far as letting Saki have her own soda with her kids meal. After dinner Saki basically crashed from being around so many people and sugar high and Momo tucked her into the hotel bed before going over to the bathroom and running a cold bath, getting some ice from the machine down the hall from her room and resting her sore muscles in an ice bath. She cursed herself at first, but once it set in she felt so much better. After drying off she climbed into bed with her five year old, who was cuddled with her favorite dog plushie Mr. Joonie Jr, named after her favorite Aunt’s stuffed dog. Momo nodded at how messy Saki was sleeping before giving her one more kiss and laying next to her, letting a wave of sleep wash over her.

The next morning, Saki woke her up with her dog plushie tucked under her left arm and her head on Momo’s chest. Momo woke up with a smile, her muscles aching, but significantly less than they should. She kissed Saki’s cheek before letting her pick out what she wanted for breakfast and ordering it for room service while her and Saki got ready for the day. After dressing Saki in a nice sundress (the weather was warmer than it should be in October but what did Momo expect from the US) and herself in a simple pair of ripped jeans and a tee shirt, they found their breakfast waiting for them at the door. Saki practically consumed her waffles, smiling at how much spoiling her Mama had been giving her on this trip. They then went to visit some monuments, Momo staying off her feet the most she could, she had a game tomorrow and she wasn’t about to ruin herself sightseeing. Saki had fun, and they had lunch at a nice seafood place before returning to their temporary home so they could call Sana. Their call was surprisingly short, Sana citing that she had some work to do on her laptop after letting the two rant about their trip.

After ending the call, Saki took a long nap while Momo figured out what they were going to do for dinner. She decided to have room service one more time, too lazy to go out again. They ate an early dinner and afterwards they went down to the hotel pool to mess around for a while before going back to their hotel and taking a bubble bath together. Saki fell asleep halfway through watching Moana and Momo fell asleep right after, being sure to set her alarm for the game tomorrow.

As she fell asleep, she had a bad feeling in her gut, but she couldn’t quite place what it was about.

Momo didn’t check her phone between morning practice and her pre game warm up. Saki had been extra tired and she had to take her back to the hotel to nap, leaving her bag in the locker room in their short break. After dressing Saki up in her little cheerleader outfit (adding a touch of zombie makeup because their game was on the day before Halloween and the team had coordinated this thing where Saki could go around asking them for candy because she wasn’t going to have time to go trick or treating tomorrow) she returned to the field to run their pre game warm up. She had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, she hadn’t been able to call or text Sana all day and it made her feel terrible. But she tried to get it out of her head and focus on the game.

Kick off came and the other team was playing extremely aggressive and Momo didn’t like it. Her team was able to hold them off, but the other team didn’t make things easy. She was shoved and had a large bruise forming on her lower back from where she had been “accidentally kicked” and it only served to make her angry. By half time she was practically fuming, and the fact she hadn’t been able to talk to Sana wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Their coach had a rule about checking their phones during half time, he said it was too distracting and they needed to keep focused, but he made an exception just once for Momo, feeling sympathetic to her situation. Saki gave her a message to rely to Sana again, and Momo knew Saki wasn’t having fun watching her Mama get thrown around like a rag doll, at least, more than normal.

Momo jogged to the locked room and noticed she had a lot of missed calls from Sana. She went through them, noting a few from Mina too. It could be nothing, but Momo fear the worst. She called Sana first, and was surprised when Mina answered her wife’s phone.

“Minatozaki Hirai Momo!” Mina screamed once she answered. “What the hell is wrong with you?” “What is wrong with you why are you screaming at me?”

“Have you seen my texts?”

“No I’ve been extremely busy today.”

“So did you like not check your phone this morning?” “I had to get up at six am no.” “Bitch Sana’s water broke last night.” Momo’s heart speed up and it wasn’t because of her exhaustion from running for the past hour.

“Ha ha very funny-”

“I’m not kidding.” “What the fuck she’s not due until January, it’s October.” “I took her to the hospital last night, they said there’s nothing they can try she has to have the baby soon, and since she’s Sana she’s being stubborn and refusing to get a c section. She got an epidural at least, but she’s been in there for like nearly eighteen hours and the baby still hasn’t been born.” Mina sighed.

“Fuck fuck shit okay is she okay did the doctors say the baby is going to be okay?” “They said they can’t know for sure until she’s born, but looking at some preliminary ultrasounds she has a chance of being okay, her brain and heart are pretty much developed.” Mina sighed. “They said their biggest concern is size and her lungs.” “I’m in the middle of a game Mina…” Momo muttered, tears welling up in her eyes. “What do I do?” “Get your ass on the first plane over her Hirai.” Mina hissed. “Soccer is important but not missing the birth of your child important." “Y-Your right, I’ll go tell my coach, I’ll be there as quick as I can, keep me updated.” Momo whispered. “I will.” Mina responded before Momo hung up on her. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and she felt like she was getting crushed with anxiety. She ran as quick as she could to her coach, knowing she looked crazy. “I need to go,” She told the man.

“Why?” “Sana’s in labor, I- fuck I need to go to her." “No Hirai,” Her coach looked her in the eyes. “We need to win this game or we’re out of the tournament, we’re in the semi finals and your our star player you can’t just leave." “I can’t miss the birth of my second child please.” Momo practically begged. “My decision is final Hirai, go drink some water and re tie your cleats and get back on the field.” “Please.” Momo dropped to her knees, tears clinging to the corner of her eyes.

“No,” The man hissed. “Go do your job Momo.” Momo wiped her tears and kicked the dirt hard before being sent onto the field. She put on a tough face, but in her mind she was freaking out.

Needless to say, she was unfocused for the rest of the match. Her mind was solely on her wife and nowhere near the crowded stadium. They ended up in a 1 to 1 draw, but they lost in the shoot out. It was their coach’s fault for expecting anything from Momo, she concluded. Once the match was over she grabbed Saki and her bag and practically sprinted out of the stadium, hailing a cab before Saki could even ask what was going on. She changed out of her cleats on the ride to the airport and didn’t even bother to change out of her uniform before sprinting to the hotel room and packing at light speed, paying the cab extra to wait downstairs. Saki watched confused as Momo dragged her downstairs, checking out of the hotel as fast as she could and back into the cab and straight to the airport and onto the first flight home she could get. Momo knew she was in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes but she was too panicked at the moment to do anything about it, staring at her phone every five seconds for updates. Once they boarded the place, Saki fell asleep on top of her and Sana begrudgingly turned her phone into airplane mode before take off, she hoped to god she didn’t miss anything during the flight.

Momo was too late. She was too fucking late and she hated herself. By the time she landed and got her and Saki in her car and on their way to the airport Mina had already texted long ago announcing the birth. Her texts stopped after, and Momo assumed the worst as she broke nearly every law getting to the hospital. She terrified the receptionist into telling her her wife’s room number before dragging her tired child to the room. She nearly cried when she found Sana sleeping with a tiny pink bundle beside her. She put Saki on the bed next to her mommy before looking at her new baby. She was asleep and connected to countless machines but she was breathing and Momo felt so relived.

“Momoring?” Momo was startled when she heard Sana’s sleepy voice. Momo turned to Sana with tears on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I tried to leave sooner. My coach was being a jerk. I’m so sorry, I’m here now,” Momo put her hand on Sana’s cheek. “How did it go? Is she okay? Mina stopped texting me after she said she was born.” “Her umbilical cord was wrapped around her throat but the doctors were able to get it off before it caused any permanent damage, sorry for the scare.” Sana muttered sleepily. “She’s way too small and needs to spend time in an incubator, but she’s as healthy as a nine week early baby can be.”

“Oh thank god.” Momo sighed in relief. “I’m so sorry.” “I know you are.” Sana muttered. “And her birthday is today by the way, so where’s her gift huh Mama?” “It’s in my suitcase in the trunk.” Momo giggled at her wife. “I’ll get it later.” “I was joking.” “I know, but I still got her a gift from Seattle.” Momo kissed Sana’s forehead. “She’s beautiful.” “I know she is,” Sana smiled. “She was also a nearly twenty four hour labor.” “I’m sorry baby that sounds so rough.” Momo sighed. “Are you okay?” “I’m sore as hell.” Sana complained. “But besides that I’m fine.” “That’s good,” Momo kissed Sana’s forehead. “I wished I could have been here, I’m sure it was magical." “It was stressful, I hated it. I’m never doing it again.” “I know,” Momo kissed Sana’s forehead once more. “What’s her name?” “Haven’t named her yet. I was waiting for you.” “Sana,” Momo muttered with tears in her eyes. “Thank you.” “Yeah I know, but hurry up with her name you need to go finish her birth certificate.”

“I’m naming her?” “Yes I can’t come up with names.” “Okay, um, Nico?" “After your grandmother? Sounds good, go finish the paperwork before that pushy nurse comes back."

“I’m sorry again baby.” “I know you are, just know that I love you and I know this isn’t your fault.” Sana answered.

“I love you too.” Momo sobbed, looking at their precious angel. “Nico-ya,” Momo whispered to the baby. She felt both happy and a bit sad at the same time.

#drafts #i'm sorry #samo #twice #minatozaki sana #hirai momo

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heartsywritesthethings · 4 years ago

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Karasuno Secret Santa 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Kageyama slurped on the milk carton straw. Last week’s game against Nekoma went relatively well, even without their ace or libero for a good part of it. It was great practice for him and Hinata though. Even when Nekoma thought that they had gained the upper hand, Hinata was always just a few steps ahead of them. It did put a smile on his face to remember how competitive both teams became when it came to the torment of Hinata. Some players from both teams wanted to take Hinata down a couple of pegs, while others were attempting to carry him away to safety. It was unfortunate, but it seemed like so many players on both teams got a chance to give Hinata small little tickles as he was passed around. Well, everyone got a chance except for Kageyama. It would definitely be his time today, after the practice game he would jump on that little half pint.

The practice game…

Kageyama took one last sip of his milk before squishing the carton with one hand. The possibility of having to play against Aoba Johsai made Kageyama’s stomach turn uncomfortably. He took a deep breath before tossing the empty carton away in the nearby trash bin. He had been extremely nervous last week too, just before learning about their surprise opponent. It felt like a breath of fresh air to see those dark uniforms.

“Kageyamaaaaaaa!” Hinata yelled as he raced across the school grounds and over to where Kageyama was standing. The Karasuno school setter smirked, wiggling his fingers at his sides in preparation. Maybe he wouldn’t have to wait for the end of this dumb practice game. It would definitely help with his nerves.

A firm hand settled on his shoulder and Kageyama looked up to see his captain staring down at him. While Daichi was smiling, there was something else behind his eyes that made Kageyama freeze.

“Don’t you dare tire him out before the game,” Daichi said, looking pointedly at Kageyama’s hands. With a small pout, Kageyama crossed his arms over his chest.

“You guys are no fair. He got one on me,” Kageyama said right before Hinata tackled him to the ground in a huge bear hug.

“What’d you get on the test, Kageyama?!” Hinata asked, perched on top of him like an excited dog.

“The…test?” He asked, rubbing the back of his head. He wasn’t hurt from the fall, but it definitely wasn’t comfortable.

“Yeah, dummy.” Hinata laughed.

“Don’t call me dummy….dummy.” Kageyama retorted before shoving Hinata off of him with a grunt. Hinata just laughed. He took out a piece of paper and shoved it in his face. That bastard had gotten a 41 on their last test. Hardly anything to brag about, really, but Kageyama felt a pang of jealousy. He had only gotten a 40.

“Great job, first year.” Daichi said, ruffling the red head’s hair fondly. Hinata began performing a victory dance, waving his test paper around as if it were the winning lottery ticket. Kageyama had to force himself not to smile at him, especially not in front of Daichi.

“Who are we playing today, captain?” Kageyama asked as the captain helped pull him to his feet. Daichi just shrugged.

“Dunno, but–” He began before Hinata jumped in between them and held onto Kageyama’s shoulders.

“But it doesn’t matter, because we are going to win!” He said with a smile so bright and brilliant, that even the stubborn Kageyama had to smile back. The little bastard’s enthusiasm was contagious to put it lightly.

“Alright then, let’s go warm up,” Daichi said with a soft chuckle.

“Last one in the gym is a rotten egg!” Hinata yelled and began sprinting over to the gym. Kageyama was quick to follow.

When Daichi arrived at the gym, Hinata and Kageyama were stuck in the doorframe, each too stubborn to let the other one get ahead. Both insisting that they had won. Daichi put a hand on both of their backs and shoved them both into the gym. It didn’t matter which one of them hit the ground first, they were both losers. The pair landed in a heap on the floor.

“Looks like the other team hasn’t shown up yet,” Sugawara said, popping in the door just a moment after Daichi had.

“Maybe they just got scared and ran away!” Tanaka yelled, leaping over the two first years on the floor and tearing off his own shirt.

“Please put your shirt back on, Tanaka,” Daichi said, his eyebrow twitching.

“Oh my god, who killed the first years?!” came Noya now, kneeling next to Hinata and Kageyama. “Why do the good have to die young?!”

“We could always tickle them and see if they’re still alive,” Sugawara said mischievously, reaching down with wiggling fingers. Both Hinata and Kageyama jumped to their feet, bumping into each other as they did so.

“You’re alive!” Noya announced, pulling the two of them in a group hug.

“Noya, would you leave those two lovebirds alone for two seconds? I need to practice my serves.” Asahi sighed, waving for Nishinoya to follow him to the court.

“The other team is here,” Tsukishima announced as he walked in with their remaining team members and managers. Captain Ukai wasn’t too far behind as well.

“Who are they?” Kageyama asked and though he tried to keep his nerves under control, he felt the anxiety bubble in his stomach again. Hinata looked at him up and down for a moment before resting a reassuring hand on Kageyama’s shoulder.

“Aoba Johsai,” Tsukishima replied, his eyes narrowing at Kageyama. He was trying to read the setter’s reaction.

It wasn’t good. Most of the color drained from Kageyama’s face and he felt a chill run up and down his body. He could still remember that day that he was almost struck by Oikawa. A player that he had looked up to (and maybe…maybe something more) had raised a hand to strike him. The pure hatred in Oikawa’s eyes haunted him to this day. Who knows what would have happened had Iwaizumi not been there to stop it?

“Hey,” Hinata’s voice said, piercing through Kageyama’s spiralling thoughts. Kageyama looked at him. “This isn’t going to be like when they were on your team. I’ll always be here to hit your tosses, no matter where you set it to.”

Of course that’s what Hinata thought it was, which was certainly a part of it even if not the main concern. Kageyama couldn’t help but smile slightly, trying to put their prized decoy at ease. It was a kind gesture on his part to try and make him feel better, even if he could only guess at what the cause was.

It was true, two of Aoba Johsai’s volleyball players used to play with Kageyama, further adding to his nerves. They had dubbed him the “King of the Court”– a nickname that Kageyama was proud of… until he learned the true meaning of it. It meant that no one trusted him, no one even wanted to play with someone with such tyrannical sets.

The combination of Oikawa’s strike against him and his former team leaving him…it had left Tobio Kageyama feeling as if he could never trust anyone again. Though, truthfully, he felt as if he had gotten better with the help of the other Karasuno players–especially Hinata.

“Well, if it isn’t the high and mighty King of the Court.” Came that sickly sweet voice as the Aoba Johsai setter strutted into the crow’s gym. Kageyama immediately tensed up, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Kage–” Hinata began.

“Let’s go, guys. We’re winning tonight,” Kageyama said, pulling away from Hinata’s grasp and walking over to the bench.

“That is some mighty big talk, your majesty. Are you going to be bossing everyone around to get your way again?” Oikawa continued, smiling over at him. Kageyama averted his eyes and picked up a stray volleyball from the court floor. He wanted to scream, to yell, to tell Oikawa to just fuck off already. His focus was solely on Oikawa today, the rest of his world seeming to just warp around him.

The warm up drills, the coach’s talk, all of it seemed like it was happening from far away. Kageyama was just scowling, either at the floor or over at his rival, Toru Oikawa. Honestly, he felt sick just being in the same gym as him. Just knowing that he was there.

Then, before he could even properly register anything, the game was beginning. The net was up, Tekada stood as the ref, and Kiyoko and Yachi stood by the point board. It was Asuhi first up to serve with Daichi and Noya also in the back row with him. Kageyama was up front with Tsukishima and Hinata, ready to block or send over spikes whenever they were able.

“How are you feeling, your majesty? You look a little pale.” Oikawa said from the other side of the net. Kageyama tried to distract himself, watching the ball instead of Oikawa. Suddenly, a hand was flying towards him.

Kageyama flinched.

Hinata stared at him, his hand still up in the air for a pre-game high five. They looked at each other for a moment longer until Kageyama weakly smacked Hinata’s hand in return. Then, Asahi sent over a serve. The rally went on for a while, the ball bouncing from one side of the court to the other. Hinata kept throwing concerned glances over at the setter. That sort of reaction was…concerning to say the least.

Kageyama sent over a set to Hinata, the ball flying higher than usual, but Hinata adjusted and slammed the ball down on the other side of the court. To anyone else, it looked just like their regular quick attack play.

Oikawa frowned, looking through the net to glare daggers at his former apprentice.

“Hey, Kageyama, is everything–?” Hinata tried again, but Kageyama just waved him off. It was Asahi’s turn to serve again since they had won the point.

“Don’t get too comfortable in your throne, King of the Court.” Oikawa said, crouching down in a defensive position again as the ball flew up in the air.

The rally went on for longer this time, Noya saving them more than a few times as Oikawa set up multiple balls for his spikers. Kageyama felt as if he were moving through honey, the world around him going too fast for him to keep up with. Tsukishima tugged him close to block a ball, purposefully grazing his side. Kageyama didn’t even blink. When they jumped, he was face to face with Turo Oikawa. Oikawa smiled as he hit the ball, and Kageyama flinched again. When he touched the ground again, it seemed as if his legs just gave out from under him. He fell on all fours, his palms stinging as they struck the hard gym floor.

“Tobio-chan, you don’t have to bow down to me just yet, I still have a whole set to beat you.” Oikawa laughed, crouching down so as to be on Kageyama’s level.

To beat you.

“You alright?” Daichi asked, kneeling in between Kageyama and Oikawa, blocking their view of the other. Kageyama looked up, feeling dizzy.

I have to win.

“I’m fine. Just landed wrong,” He explained, getting back up to his feet. Daichi looked concerned and Kageyama could tell that if he messed up again, Daichi would insist that Sugawara replace him on the court.

No, I have to prove myself to him.

“Let me know if you need to rest,” Daichi said, patting Kageyama on the head before heading back to his position.

Everyone is staring at me.

One of Aoba Johsai’s players set up for a serve. Oikawa inched closer to the net, close to where Kageyama was.

“Hey, hey, King Tobio.” Oikawa whispered.

Stop it. Stop talking.

“Still want me to teach you how to serve?” Oikawa continued. Kageyama gasped, looking up at Oikawa with wide eyes. All the upperclassman did was smile. An evil smile.

“Kageyama! Net ball!” Noya yelled.

Kageyama looked up to see the ball slowly falling right at the net. Kageyama jumped, reaching to push the ball over the net and gain the crows another point. He glanced over and saw

Oikawa’s hand going straight for him again.

This time, it’s going to land! There is no one here to save you! Duck!

Kageyama brought his arms up to his face to shield himself from the incoming slap. Nothing. Oikawa lightly tapped the ball over and it bounced harmlessly on the floor.

But Kageyama didn’t notice. He was on the floor yet again, but this time, it felt as if he would never move again. He was shaking hard, his breath quickening in his chest.

I can’t breathe. I’m not safe. I can’t breathe. I’m not safe.

Kageyama squeezed his eyes closed as tears began to fall. He couldn’t seem to breathe properly. He could barely hear as Oikawa laughed, taunting him and saying that he had never grown out of his crown. Calling him a sore loser over just one point. Daichi was with him again, kneeling next to him and rubbing a comforting hand on his back. Hinata was yelling at Oikawa, but Kageyama couldn’t make out what. Coach Ukai was yelling now, pointing and waving his arms around. Oikawa was whining about something, arguing back.

Everything is so loud.

Daichi scooped up the crying first year, carrying him over to the nearest safe place that he could–the utility closet.

“Tobio. I need you to breathe, okay?” Daichi said, sitting with his back against the wall and Kageyama cradled in his arms. Honestly, he had no idea what he was doing. All he knew was that Kageyama felt as if he were in danger and that loud environment was not the right place for him. Asahi stepped into the closet and walked right to where Kageyama was. He took Kageyama’s hands and looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Hey, man, I don’t know what Oikawa did to you, but he’s gone now. You’re safe. He’s not gonna hurt ya, okay?” Asahi said calmly. With how often Noya had panic attacks and nightmares, Asahi had plenty of practice calming people down. Even if he didn’t know what exactly the trigger was, he knew that he needed to make the panicking person feel safe.

“He’s gone. You’re okay. We’re here. Kageyama, breathe.” Asahi said, taking deep breaths himself. Without really realizing it, Kageyama began mirroring the breathing. Sugawara was the next one in the closet, with a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He set them both down before stepping out. Daichi saw a glimpse of Hinata, Tanaka, and Noya trying to see what was going on.

“Focus on me, not them,” Asahi said, trying to grab Kageyama’s attention. Apparently he had noticed the three loudmouths of the team trying to get inside. Kageyama used his shirt collar to wipe at his tears hurriedly.

This was a little embarrassing. Not only did his entire team see him break down, but Oikawa had as well.

“You’re okay, man. Really.” Asahi said with a smile. He pat Kageyama on the head lightly and Daichi awkwardly pat his back. Kageyama took a deep breath and took a sip from the nearby water that Suga had dropped off.

“Sorry for tanking the game,” Kageyama grumbled, pulling himself up and off of Diachi. Daichi got up as well and cuffed the back of the setter’s head.

“You know none of us care about that, right?” Daichi said, raising an eyebrow.

“But you all want to stay on the court for as long as possible. And I ruined that after two points.” Kageyama grumbled.

“Kags, are you serious?” Daichi asked, shaking his head. “It was a practice game. We care more about your injury than we do about the game.”

“My…injury?” Kageyama asked. Daichi poked him in the head.

“I think that the captain is trying to say,” Asahi chuckled. “Is that your mental health is just as important as your physical health and you gotta take care of yourself.”

“But…I’m not injured. I’m fine.” Kageyama insisted. The two third years stared at him and Kageyama huffed. “Okay, I get it.”

“Good. Now, I’m gonna tell Kiyoko to get the projector and Yachi needs to spray this closet. It smells so gross.” Daichi said, giving Kageyama’s shoulder one last squeeze before heading out of the closet.

As soon as the door opened, Hinata burst through and lept onto Kageyama. Thankfully, Kageyama was standing right in front of Asahi and the Ace’s strong body stopped him from falling over. Hinata clung to Kageyama like a koala to a tree, arms wrapped around his neck and legs latched around his waist.

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t know! Kageyama! You gotta tell me next time! We were right in front of him too! You’re so brave!” Hinata wailed, being over dramatic as usual. Sugawara grabbed Daichi and whispered something in his ear.

“Oikawa tried to do WHAT?” Daichi yelled “Is that punk blue bastard still here?”

Kageyama watched as the captain of Karasuno stormed out of the gym, yelling about how they would never have Aoba Johsai back in the gym again.

“Uh, what happened?” Kageyama asked, shifting his weight so that he could hold Hinata better.

Wait, why am I holding him again?

Kageyama dropped Hinata and the orange-haired spiker dropped to the ground before immediately springing back up on his feet. It was like he was a ball or something. Always bouncing back.

“Well, after you fell, Oikawa was saying stupid stuff and then a bunch of us started yelling. Oikawa was being a huge dick, and I thought that maybe he was just trying to be competitive and mean, but he was just being mean. And then Coach Ukai came in and he was all like BAM and then Oikawa went ZOOM–” Hinata rambled, waving his arms around for emphasis. Kageyama chuckled, watching the little guy try and retell something fairly simple.

“In proper terms,” Tsukishima said, pushing his glasses up his nose “Oikawa kept calling you names while you were in your panic attack. Hinata, Noya, and Tenaka had to be held back. Iwaizumi told us the…incident that happened in your middle school. Then, Coach Ukai chased Aoba Johsai out.”

“My version was better,” Hinata grumbled.

“Your version didn’t make any sense,” Tsukishima retorted. “Next time, try and use some proper words and maybe breathe in between your sentences.”

“So, what are we doing for practice time?” Kageyama asked, seeing Tanaka along with the other second years putting away the net and the stray volleyballs.

“Kiyoko and Yachi are getting the projector and some blankets so we can have a movie night!” Hinata said excitedly, throwing his arms up in the air. Kageyama looked at how everyone was working together in the gym.

Even after an incident like that…even though everyone here loved the game, loved volleyball…they were all willing to drop everything to make sure that he was feeling better. It really made him think that this team was really something else. It was more than just a volleyball team.

It felt like a family.

(I think 4/25)

Ga!babe

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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years ago

Text

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 6

Requested: No

Word Count: 3922

Warning: Cursing

POV: Reader

Notes: Total fluff piece. Currently finishing part 7.

The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind; to call it a roller coaster of emotions would be too cliché. It was more like that carnival ride, the one called the Zipper; the long-armed ferris wheel type ride that held several free flipping cars, that caged your body in, as it rotated around and around. Spinning constantly, flipping you through the air when you would reach the peak of the arm; the ride left you giddy and nauseous all at the same time. In your teens, it was your favorite ride; now in your late twenties it was a metaphor for your life.

Last night you had no intentions of telling Tyler you were pregnant; in your circle of friends you were known as everyone’s confidant. The fact that you couldn’t keep your own secret wasn’t lost on you. There was no going back now, but what your next move with Tyler was going to be still had you guessing. From the moment you’d found out, you knew Tyler would be a part of the baby’s life; never questioned that. Clearly you hadn’t anticipated the joy he would experience; while not at first, it was quite evident at the end of the night he was excited about being a father.

So, here you were, sitting on your couch in an old pair of Dallas Stars sweats; eating ice cream straight from the container, while you watched your baby daddy play hockey. While said baby, could not be seen yet; you were obviously taking this mom indulging in her favorite foods’ thing seriously. The only thing missing was the pickles, and since they made you nauseous even before you were pregnant; you had an inkling you wouldn’t be running to the store any time soon. It felt good to watch the Stars play again; you’d blocked them out of your life, just as you had Tyler. Oh, you still kept in touch with some of the wives and girlfriends, not so much now; but the first few weeks you did. It felt odd sitting in front of the television, when it was a home game; the norm usually being sitting in the designated wags section. While you didn’t quite belong there anymore now; this didn’t feel quite right either. But really was there anything in between?

“Come on ref, that’s a fucking horrible call?” you yelled at the tv, then spooned another bite in your mouth, as you watched Rads get called on some bullshit high stick. Thankfully Tyler wasn’t on the penalty kill unit; it was added stress neither him or you needed. With about four minutes into the second, a bad turnover by the Kings had Tyler dangling the puck around the goalie. Weaving in and out looking for the perfect shot; you hadn’t realized you were on the edge of your seat. Faking to his left he shifted at the last minute, completely fooling Quick in the process; the puck skidded over the goal line, sounding the horn. “Score,” shouting at the empty living room, you cheered.

��Finishing the game, and the container of ice cream, you turned off the tv and headed to bed. Weeks of sleeping, still hadn’t prepared you for this tired feeling pregnancy brought with it; your body was exhausted. Mentally however, you couldn’t make your mind stop spinning; thoughts of Tyler occupying them. When you met him, he’d been your Prince Charming; sweeping you off your feet into a love so grand there was no other possible ending then happily ever after. That Cinderella wasn’t knocked up at the end of movie, after the prince had cheated on her; was something Disney must have omitted. Being the heroine of this fairy tale was going to take more than a pair of glass slippers that was for sure; hopefully, in sleep you’d find a godmother, that brought you sage advice and wisdom instead of a dress.

When morning came however, you were no further ahead than you’d been the night before; so, getting up, you headed to work. The day went blessed easy in the morning; it was the afternoon that turned into a cluster fuck. First, Andrea brought you in a beautiful bouquet of red roses, long stemmed placed in an exquisite vase; they were the classic, something every woman dreams of receiving. It was who they were from that had you frowning. The card read simply, Hope you are feeling better, Always, Robert. Somehow you had pushed thoughts of him to the recesses of your brain. Despite his possessive nature, Robert deep down was a good person. He deserved to be told face to face, that things between the two of you weren’t going to happen.

The second time she walked in, Andrea wasn’t carrying anything; which didn’t disturb you; that was not until she held your office door open for not one, not two, not even three; but ten gorgeous arrangements of flowers; all in hues of lilac. That the color was a melding of both blues and pinks wasn’t lost on you; though it surprised you Tyler would come up with it. Delicate blooms of roses, hydrangea dotted with small sprigs of baby’s breath adorn most of the vases. However, one stood out, while it still contained roses, this one had a unique flower interlaced in it; star shaped little blossoms ran up and down the stem. What stood out was the fragrance, sweet smells of springtime filled the air; giving off an aroma of new beginnings.

Apparently, the florist had come along to deliver the massive number of flowers; she saw you take interest in the bloom. “It’s a hyacinth, the flower of forgiveness. In the world of magic, it is said to symbolize love and happiness as well as protect it’s recipient from harm.” Handing you the card that went with the arrangements, she turned to leave. It read simply, I’m sorry. I’ll never fuck up again. Love For All Eternity, Tyler. That’s when you noticed that damn single tear was back.

“Thank you, so much. They’re all so extraordinary.”

“Your welcome my dear. You must be very special and he must be extremely sorry. It’s not every day I get a call with such specific requests. Most men think the rose covers it all. But yours, he knew what he wanted before I could even make suggestions. Trust me they weren’t easy to find at this time of year either, or I would’ve done more than one bouquet.” She walked out the door, and that’s when you lost it. Dropping down into your chair, you sat there and sobbed. Sure, Tyler had sent you flowers after he cheated; now that you thought about it, they’d all been roses. Always in various shades and color, but always just vase after vase of roses. That he had specifically requested these for you this time, meant more to you than every rose he had ever bought you. Your heart melted a little more, the ice thawing so that even you weren’t sure if it existed. He’d said he was sorry, practically begged for your forgiveness, swore it wouldn’t happen again; you weren’t sure it was possible, but this, this was telling you that perhaps you should at least try. It wouldn’t be easy but maybe, just maybe if you did you both could find peace and be able to move forward together.

The hour you took to collect yourself, put you behind with work and had you staying later than you anticipated; which meant you were running late when Tyler showed up. The small apartment was something you rented on a month to month basis as you tried to determine what the best living arrangement for you and the baby would be; it was nowhere near the house you’d lived in with Ty. Running to the door to answer it; you were still in your work clothes. “Hi Ty! Sorry I got caught up at work and ran late. I just need to change.” He stepped into the apartment, taking in all the surroundings. It had been furnished when you rented it, everything very clinical and clean, nothing that spoke to the person that lived there. All your belongings still in storage. “Have a seat, do you want a drink or anything? God, I think I have some wine or something here, not that I’ll be joining you.”

“I’m good babe. I’m not drinking anymore either.”

You were halfway back the hall to your bedroom, when what he said actually registered in your brain. Sliding your heels off, you had to know more “What? Why aren’t you drinking?”

“I just…I don’t know. You can’t drink, I kind of feel like it’s something I can do with you; at least until the baby’s born.” No wonder you loved this man; that he wanted to do even something this tiny meant more than words could ever say. Entering the bedroom, you quickly grabbed a pair of jeans and a loose flowy top; thank god jeans were made with spandex in them nowadays, not knowing how many more times you’d be able to put them on this easily. Grabbing a pair of chunky wedged sandals, you headed back out to the living room; back to Tyler.

“So where are we headed?”

“I already told you, that’s a secret. You ready to go.” Excitement was radiating off of him; it was contagious.

“Yeah, I just want to grab a quick protein bar. I think someone’s feeling a little snackish.”

Chuckling he responded back, “Would that be you or the baby? Because I distinctly remember you used to always have snacks in that suitcase you call a purse.”

Playfully, you swatted his arm. “So, I like my snacks, nothing wrong with that. Besides I also remember a particular someone, who would dig in that so-called suitcase, for something to eat on a regular basis.”

“You got me there, babe. You did pack two didn’t you,” this while winking at you.

“Of course.” With that, the two of you strode out the door, to the car. Being ever the gentleman, Tyler came over and opened the door for you; that he took the seatbelt and proceed to buckle you in was new. “What are you doing? You know; I can buckle the seatbelt.”

“Just making sure you’re both safe and snug in here.” This over-protective thing was going to take some getting used to; though it did tear down yet another wall that you had built up against him.

The drive was silent; soft music playing in the background; nothing like the drives you used to take. When his hand would be in yours or on your thigh; music as loud as it could be, you both singing the whole way, Tyler mainly off key. Reaching your hand over you began to scan for a station you both enjoyed. “What, you didn’t like what I had on?”

“Ummm, no, not really. I thought we were in a freaking elevator,” chuckling you added “in a museum, run by dead people.”

“It’s supposed to be soothing and create a loving environment for the baby.” Raising an eyebrow, you looked at him, like he had just grown three heads.

“Where did you come up with that?”

“I read it in one of my daddy baby books.”

“Oh!,” it was the only response you could think of; your mind still grasping at the fact that he was reading a book for expecting fathers. That wall you thought about earlier was definitely crumbling now. “So, did you learn anything else,” this said while you worked your way back to the station with the elevator music on it.

“Hmm, that you should start to show soon. That the kid is the size of an apple, pear or orange; that seems to vary depending on what book I read. Oh, and that we should be able to find out the sex at that next ultrasound you mentioned.” He seemed to really be doing his homework. “Do you want to find out the sex?”

“Ummm, I hadn’t given it much thought. What do you want to do? I think it’s a decision we both have to make. Like I don’t think I could stand it, if you knew and I didn’t. It would drive me insane.” People always said that life was full of surprises; you kind of felt that statement contradictory. There truly weren’t many really authentic surprises left in life, but the miracle of life itself. However, knowing would make things so much easier, you’d be able to pick out the color of the baby’s room, buy all his or her clothes in appropriate colors, even have his or her name all ready. You really could go either way, and maybe this decision could be up to Tyler.

“Hmmm, I think it would be fun to know. I kind of remember one of the guys talking about doing a baby reveal or something; which sounds like a lot of fun.” Well that decision was made; we’d be finding out at the next ultrasound it seemed. “But you know, when are we ever gonna get a surprise like this. Maybe when we have the second one, we can find out the sex, but I think this first one I don’t want to know. If that’s ok with you?” Woah, and here you thought that there were no real surprises in life, that statement right there was one; first that he didn’t want to know, second, that he was already planning your next child, together.

Your stunned silence, had Tyler looking over at you wondering if you’d heard him. “Yeah, I agree, I don’t want to know. Unless it’s like super obvious or something.” Staring out the window, you tried not to focus on images his words evoked; a happy loving family, Tyler playing with your toddler on the floor of the living room, while you fed child number two. It was something you hadn’t let yourself think about; hadn’t seen this as your future after everything that had happened. But here, now, hearing his words; the picture was so real, you felt you could reach out and touch it. Shaking yourself, you brought yourself back to the present; seeing familiar homes pass by. “Are we going to the house?” While you’d made headway today; you weren’t completely sure you were ready to walk back into the home you once shared.

“Umm, no.” His short answer was all you received. A few more turns had you slowing down to the apparent destination. The large house loomed in front of you; recognition dawning on your face as the vehicle made its way through the gate. You’d been here before, probably driven past it over a hundred or more times; always with this same man by your side, but never up the drive to the house itself. To say that the look you gave him was questioning was an understatement. “Surprise!” That, that was the only word he said, it really didn’t give you any answers.

He seemed so pleased with himself; yet you had no clue as to why. “Ok, I’m gonna need a little more than that Ty. Surprise, what?”

“It’s the house, the one we always talked about raising our family in.”

“I can see that. Why are we here?”

“I bought it, for us.” He stated it that simply; smiling brilliantly at you. That you needed a deep cleansing breath before you even thought about replying back to him should have made him at least sense your mood; instead the lovable idiot just continued to smile.

Massaging your temple, from the headache you could feel forming; you spoke as calmly as possible. “You did what? Tyler, what the hell are you thinking?”

The smile that lit up his face dropped instantaneously. “I thought this could be a fresh start for us. Plus, we’ve always wanted this house. It came up on the market a few weeks ago; obviously I didn’t buy it then, we weren’t together. But I called yesterday and it was still for sale, so I had the realtor start working on everything, it’s practically ours.”

“We’re not together now Ty. Why would you have him start the whole process? What the hell were you thinking?” That wall, which had been crumbling before, was now being rebuilt by a dozen stonemasons; their incessant pounding making your brain hurt. “Is this some grand gesture to get me to forgive you?”

“Yes…no. God I can’t do anything fucking right with you; can I?” His head crashed against the back of the seat and he blew out a frustrated breath; hands clenching the steering wheel in front of him. “I’m trying here. I really am. Can you just go inside and look at the place? Not for me, hell not even for you; but for the baby?” The pleading sound in his voice had you halting progress on the barrier around your heart.

“Ok,” you relented; it wouldn’t hurt to just look at the place. The door to the house opened then and Tyler’s realtor stepped out; suit and tie all business like, ready to make the sale of the year. Opening the car door, you got out walking around, matching strides with Tyler. Greeting the realtor, you tried to keep an open mind; you’d dreamed about what the interior would look like, this was finally your chance to see it. The massive double doors opened to an understated entry way; an elegant dining room off to your right. The place was tastefully decorated; not ornate or too elaborate, more relaxed as if the people who lived here truly made this a home and not some decorated show piece. The office on the left, was light and airy, not heavy with wall to wall bookshelves; a family portrait hung above the fireplace. You couldn’t help but imagine your own family’s photo hanging there.

Continuing the tour, next you saw the kitchen; flashes of you baking and preparing meals for Tyler and your children popped into your head. It opened up to a family room; where you saw the kids playing with the dogs. Walking down the hall, you entered the master suite, enormous in size it looked out onto the pool; a king size bed fit easily into the room. Images of you and Tyler rolling around on the bed took control of your brain, arms entangled, bodies sweaty, moans filling the air; you looked away needing to shake the thoughts from your head. A sitting area off in the corner offered an opportunity to enjoy your coffee in the morning light. French doors leading outside to a private alcove overlooking the pool; a lounger large enough for two people covered most of the area. It was intimate, shielding its inhabitants from small prying eyes; a place the two of you could make love for hours on end. It was too much; you were standing outside and yet you needed air. Falling back on the sunbed you’d just sexually fantasied about being on with Tyler; you sat, taking deep breaths.

Tyler whispered something to the realtor, who strode back inside the house; leaving the two of you alone. Sitting beside you, he quietly asked, “you ok?”

It was a loaded question, physically you were fine; mentally you thought you were going to explode. “I don’t know Ty.” The look of concern that crossed his face, had you quickly following that up. “It’s not the baby, we’re ok. It’s just this…” waving your hand at the beautifully manicured landscape in front of you. “This is supposed to be our dream home and we’re just not in that place right now. I won’t lie to you; I wish we were.”

Taking his hand, he made soothing circles up and down your back; the movement evoking all those images from just moments ago. “Babe, we’re going to get there. I know it’ll be hard, but just try to have some faith in me.” Turning your head, you stared into his eyes, searching for the trust he spoke of; wanting so much more. There was hope there, hope for a future the two of you could build. Love, so much love it made you ache; even a tinge of sadness for what had been lost. Finally, you saw it, that small glimpse of faith; that it came from the reflection of your eyes in his, is what surprised you. His hand stopped; simultaneously your breathing sped up. Even though the small voice in the back of your brain told you not to surrender; you pressed forward anyway. Taking his face in the palm of your hands, you brought his lips to yours; it was a sweet caress, filled with promises. Slow and gentle, the kiss left you dizzy; neither one of you fighting for control, just relishing the touch of each other. Mouths fussed together as one; you could’ve stayed like this for hours, but softly you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

His eyes were closed, lids hooded so you couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. Why you thought you’d be able to know what he was thinking, when you didn’t even know where your mind was; you couldn’t comprehend. All you knew was that it was a start; a tiny move in hopefully the right direction. Taking a second waiting for him to look at you; when he didn’t, finally you said, “I’m still not sure you should buy this place.”

Eyes flying open, he looked at you; grabbing your hands, he helped you to your feet. He drew you to the edge of the water by the pool. Standing behind you, he turned you to look at the expansive lawns. His hands encircled your waist, caressing your stomach, where your child grew. Resting his chin on your shoulder; he spoke, his voice low, “Can you see it? Right over where the water’s real shallow. The kids are splashing around with the dogs. I’m over there by the grill, cooking up some burgers for dinner. And right there,” pointing to edge of the pool. “You have our newest little one in your arms, rocking back and forth near the kids in case they need you.” That you could almost smell the burgers, bespoke of how vivid the image became in your head. You wanted, no needed it all; could only pray for it to become reality.

That’s when it happened, you weren’t entirely sure what it was at first; but then it fluttered again. “Did you feel that?”

“Was that the baby?”

Tears sprang to your eyes; only this time they were tears of joy. “Yeah, I really think it was.”

“Think he’ll do it again?”

“I don’t know, maybe? Wait did you say, him?”

“Did I? Hmmm, maybe I did.” Then as if the little one knew we were discussing him or her; it happened again. “I think he or she likes their new house.”

“Tyler, don’t you think we should talk about this?”

“Mmmm, too late, I already told the realtor to have the papers ready, for when we go back inside.” With that he took off running before you could smack him; playfully of course. Shaking your head at what had transpired in the last thirty minutes or so; you wandered around the property. Tyler, had gone inside, you assumed to sign said papers. Maybe, just maybe, he was right and this could be the new beginning you were searching for.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nervous regrets

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kfawkes · 7 years ago

Note

Maybe Eggsy take a shot for a reader? :) love your blog, luv! 😍

[Hi there! Thanks so much, man!!! Means a lot

Note: I sort of start this mostly Eggsy PoV and then put it to yours a bit, but I think I did it pretty fluidly so let me know if not hahah

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader (Merlin, Rox and Harry ref/cameo)

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: blood, cursing.

—Read on Ao3!]

It was hard for Eggsy to stay focused around you. For some reason no matter how hard he tried; he just couldn’t… He found himself glancing over to you far more often than he should– staring at you even, and it seemed he wasn’t the only one to have noticed.

But this was your first time out on the field… He had to watch out for you, didn’t he? It was his job.

Eggsy’d been the one to train you… Told you to pull that trigger. He literally was the reason you become the agent you are today, and it was his duty to keep you safe.

Okay maybe it wasn’t his job or duty so much as a promise he made to himself, but the bottom line was that’s how he felt. It’s how he’d felt from the very beginning.

Eggsy didn’t tell you this but he’d liked you for months now. It was hard for him to admit but he liked pretty much everything about you. The way your hair fell when you ran, and the sound of your footsteps down the hall of HQ. Your laugh, the way you smiled and the flicker in your eye every time you saw him.

It was all of these things that made him so protective, and he knew it. He also knew that his crush was a whole lot more than that… he was pretty sure he loved you actually.

But he didn’t tell you and he probably never would…

He didn’t tell you any of his feelings because it was severely inappropriate… Eggsy did know that part too. He couldn’t act on his feelings, but he could keep them hidden; so hidden they were.

Secret or not he could still make sure you were safe though, and he would no matter what. There was no way he would lose you like he’d lost Harry. Yeah, he was back now… but there was a good chuck of time where he wasn’t and that pain was fuckin unbearable.

Something told him that losing you would be worse… much, much worse.

“Galahad… Stay focused. Just because you’ve wrapped things up in there doesn’t mean the mission is finished.” Merlin chimed in through Eggsy’s private comm, pulling his gaze from you abruptly.

“Fuckin’ hell, Merlin… Ain’t you gotta job t’do?” he replied back quietly, turning from you a bit as he eye the sea of bodies around him.

“I’m doing it now… For example: You seem to be staring again, Eggsy.” this time Merlin’s voice was lined playfully, and Eggsy could tell he was suppressing a laugh.

“Shut up.” Eggsy pressed his tongue between his teeth, biting it lightly before a forced exhale suppressed his own. He turned further from you, taking a few steps away before starting again even quieter than before. “Someone’s gotta watch, yeah? This is Tristan’s first mission– I’m jus bein’ carefu–”

He could feel you creeping up behind him though and stopped speaking immediately. It wasn’t like you were being particularly stealthy or anything, but you were sort of trying to conceal your footsteps that much was obvious.

But before you could hear a word of what was said, Eggsy turned around abruptly facing you once more. “Nosey, ain’t ya?” he asked crossing his arms and tilting his head as he close the line.

You just narrowed your eyes on him suspiciously, wondering why he always whispering into a private channel… What could he possibly have to talk with Merlin about that couldn’t wait until you two got back?

Alright… maybe you didn’t really have any right to know, but like Eggsy had said; you were nosey and you really didn’t like being out of the loop.

“Maybe I am.” You answered honestly crossing your arms to match his own, leaning your chin out towards him as you raise a brow. “But something tells me I have a right to be.”

The smallest smile slipped the corners of his lips as he eyed you softly. “Really now… an why’s that?”

“Really? I heard you saying my codename, Eggsy. Just tell me what you two were talking about…” You threatened playfully, pushing the limits between friend and something more like you always did; but truthfully you did want to know what they were saying… No, you needed to know.

He could tell you were growing a little annoyed, but honestly it was too cute to just surrender now; so he squinted his eyes at you shaking his head softly back and forth denying your request in full.

“Spill, Unwin!” You threw a finger into his chest softly as you took a step closer.

“We was just sayin’ how good you was doin’, luv.” Eggsy smiled wider, his azure gaze flickering between your own as he enjoyed your display.

You let out a small sigh, suppressing your own smile that begged for release. Damn he’s cute… too cute, and the smirk her wore now was doing its job: Making you weak and distracting you from his shitty answer.

“Fine. Whatever you say, Eggy.” You accentuated the name, sporting a cocky smile knowing he wasn’t a fan of being called that. Only the look he returned wasn’t bothered at all, it was… well, you weren’t sure what it was exactly, but it made your even weaker than before.

Eggsy however did know what that look meant, and he was almost angry at himself for allowing it to show. That was until he started getting lost in the color of yours eyes… In how close you were now standing to him.

He could have stood there all day just getting lost in you; but his thoughts were stopped suddenly.

Suddenly he just knew that something wasn’t right, and in a flash his cool demeanor was shut off like a switch by the dark shape coming into focus behind you.

What the fuck…

“Fuck me– Tristan, get down!” he yelled realizing just what was happening…

And in that moment everything around him slowed.

It was almost completely still, but somehow he was still moving at normal speed. He could see your face shifting from the sweet smile you wore, to one of confusion. Eggsy could even see as the fear spread when he pushed you forward and out of harms way.

A loud pop spun everything in the room back to normal; and Eggsy kicked the gun from the mans hands as he punched him in the throat. After a few more kicks and jabs, Eggsy slid down to the ground, shooting his leg out tripping the man.

“What the hell…” You started quietly, pulling your fingers from your forehead. When you looked at them again, they were decorated with a crimson drop of blood; your blood, and as it slid down your finger the room grew fuzzy around you.

When you looked back to Eggsy he was wrestling about on the ground– fighting someone, and you remembered the sound of a gun… only when you looked at your body, you saw nothing.

You’d definitely heard a shot go off. So… where the hell did it go?

You slid your hands anxiously over every surface of your body as the room steadied its uneasy shaking. Once it was still you pulled yourself to your feet, eyeing the space around you cautiously in fear it would quake again.

Eggsy was on the ground beside the man… What was he…

There was a large red blot coming from his right shoulder and as stupid as it was you wondered where it came from… When you stepped closer the denial had fully left though, and you didn’t have to wonder where that bullet had landed. You watched wide eyed as he pushed a hand to his chest; pressing the hole as bright blood spilled between his fingers…

“Merlin! Eggsy’s been hit, we need help– please!” You yelled into your comm, and Merlin had replied but you couldn’t even hear him.

It was something along the lines of ‘Yeah, I already know.’ or ‘On our way.’ but it didn’t really matter because it all meant the same; they were coming.

You dropped to the ground beside him, not even feeling the throb of pain ringing against your knees. “What the fuck, Eggsy?”

He laughed a bit, which was dumb as hell but also very much like Eggsy, wasn’t it?

“You was bout t’get yourself shot… can’t let that happen, can I?” he laughed out softly, closing his eyes as he winced in pain; feeling your hands pressed atop his. “It’s jus a scratch, luv… I’ll be alright.”

You knew he was right… as far as gunshot wounds go– this one was in a pretty decent place. But still, he’d literally just taken a fucking bullet for you and then joked about it.

“So you got yourself shot instead? I’m sorry, but I don’t see your logic he–”

“I gotta keep you safe, don’I?” he was quieter this time, looking at you with eyes light and full of affection; seeming to not even notice the hole in his chest anymore.

“Eggsy… It’s– If you die because of this, I won’t be able to forgive myself.” You confessed looking at your blooded hands.

You reminded yourself that the wound didn’t look serious… that he’d be fine.

But still it was scary… terrifying even and as you scanned his face, you let those warm tears slide down your cheeks gently.

“Why you cryin’? It’s me that got shot, innit?”

You laughed weakly, pulling the hand you held to your lips with a nod; kissing the back of his palm long and hard behind closed eyes. You weren’t sure what came over you, but you started full on crying now… the thought of losing him was too fucking much, and before you knew what you were doing you leaned down.

You had every intention of just holding him, being close to him– but Eggsy slid a hand to your neck, pressing his mouth to yours effortlessly.

In those moments you could have forgot about the mission… You could have forgot about the blood that now decorated your neck and chest. You could even even forgot about the big fucking hole in his chest…

You could have forgot it all, because nothing in your entire life had ever felt so goddamn perfect; and for being so fucking wrong, nothing had ever felt so right.

The footsteps were growing louder as you pulled your mouth from his; hovering only a few inch away… wanting so desperately to be feel them again.

Eggsy smiled at you, running his stained hand through your hair; basking in the feeling you gave him. “All it took was gettin’ shot for you kiss me… who woulda thought?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Mighta done it sooner…” Eggsy looked up and over his head as Roxy and Harry entered the room.

You kissed him again, not caring who saw. As they rushed to his side, you pulled yourself to your feet, but not before catching the knowing smile Roxy sent you, and the oh so obvious pat Harry offered him…

“Oh… shut up.”

#Eggsy Imagine #Eggsy Unwin x Reader #Eggsy x Reader #Kingsman #Kingsman fic #fan fic #prompt #ENJOY! <3 #Eggsy Unwin #Eggsystential Crisis

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kennethstepp · 5 years ago

Text

Preparation and Restoration

Preparation And Restoration

The Kindness of a Loving God

By Kenneth Stepp

Becoming Benjamin:

At 16 years old, he was coming into his own. He was a shy kid, just trying to be a man, Skinny Benny was his name most of his childhood. He found himself at a dirty gym in the inner city. The sport was boxing. He wasn’t known for his physical prowess, yet he mustered the courage to be there. He awkwardly pushed one rope down and pulled one up and stepped into the ring. The mat felt strange. Bouncy even. He wasn’t expecting that. The ring favorite came up. His name was Jabber, no doubt a nickname. Just another kid, no doubt from the neighborhood, stepped into the ring and stared at Benny. He had been here many times and they called him Champ, Benny was new at this. He thought he’d be trained before this. Evidently, training is what he was doing here. The ref made his way to the center of the ring. Fighters waved to the middle. Fair and clean fight, he said. Ding! It was a massacre. Benny found himself on the mat, bloody, ears ringing, and yet, alive in a way he’d never been. What just happened?

The next day Benny hurt in places he didn’t know he had. Sporting a black eye and a very fat lip. All he could say was two things. At least he did it. And he could do better. It was hot out that day. Benny’s family had no idea about the sport he was interested in. Something about it just sucked him in. He felt compelled to know what it was and to master it. Looking back, it was all a plan for his life. To him, it was something that called him. He trained, He ran every day, he studied the great fighters, he watched videos, went to matches, lifted weights, he trained. Some days, it was mindless actions, some days it was obsession. And to Benny, it was something he had to do. Some of the guys at the gym, seeing he was so committed to training, asked, why not be a bodybuilder? Fighters get hurt, bodybuilders get the girls. All he knew was that he was a warrior. It may be deep inside him, but he knew what he was.

Three months had passed and Baby Leroy, the trainer at the gym said, you’ll be gloving up tomorrow night, I’m out of fighters. Benny was a little intimidated by his last humiliating loss, but reluctantly agreed. He moved across the gym to the powerbag. It was a leather bag hanging from the ceiling by a chain. It was hard as a rock and weighed about 200 pounds. Baby Leroy, Benny yelled across the room. What! Can I do this? This is your domain, the last time I fought, I embarrassed myself and hurt for days. Son, God has a plan for all of us. You are no better or worse than any of us. Tomorrow night you will take all the time and investments I poured into you into the ring. If I didn’t think you were ready, I wouldn’t tell you to glove up. Hit the showers and get some rest, you’re going to need it.

Sleep was illusive that night. He tossed and turned. There wasn’t anyone to talk to about it. His family was in disarray, no one would understand. Benny was the youngest of three boys, they called me kid. To them this fighting stuff was their business, not the runt of the family. He finally began to doze off. As he fell into a deep sleep, he dreamed. He dreamed of being a warrior. Facing the battle as a knight on the battlefield. Covered in armor, sword in hand, rushing up the next hill. With his life on the line, his next move could be his last, every step he took was important, every breath he took meant his life could end. He was sure he was in a battle with other warriors, his dream was vivid and so complete. The colors, sounds, and smell of the bloody field were so real. How, How did he get there, when would this be over? Startled by his oldest brother entering his room and shaking him. Are you ok kid? You were screaming and moving around in your bed so loud I could hear you across the hall. I’m ok. Sorry I woke you. He sank back into a deep sleep.

Benny woke up naturally the next day. Coffee and cereal. Not exactly the breakfast of champions. He looked at the clock, 9:30 am. His fight seemed so far away. He had to check in at the gym at 5:00. Feeling this anxious, how would he fill this day? Having finished breakfast, he pondered the day ahead. Companionship on this journey would be helpful. His family had no idea and he was a loner. He made no real friends at the gym, some even made fun of him for being so quiet. Most stayed away from him because of the seriousness he took with workouts. Baby Leroy always said to take it easy before a fight. He took it easy the first time and found himself on the floor covered in his own blood. He decided to go for a run. Five miles on the street would be a great way to start the day.

Inner city gyms are dirty and dark for the most part. And fight night had one thing that always happened. Gamblers. The amount of cash being bet was amazing to Benny. Two men get into the ring, everyone gets a good look at them, most are there every week and know who the fighters are, their records, previous fights, and their style of fighting. Benny walked the aisle to the ring, grabbed the rope and climbed in. He walked around for a moment waiting to see who his opponent would be. A train of guys and a man in a hooded robe began making a theatrical beeline for the ring. One rope up, one held down, he entered the ring. As he danced around, arms in the air, hood falling off, his worst fears came to life. It was Jabber again. No doubt, here to make a fool of him again. Baby Leroy looked over with the most wise look I had ever seen. “You got this.”

As the fighters met the ref in the center of the ring, Benny listened to his instructions, moved away, the bell rang, and they moved into the middle of the ring. Jabber began with a right hook catching Benny on the chin, he staggered back, caught himself on the ropes, Jabber, sensing the end was near, shot two more punches quickly. Benny knew he was in trouble and pushed Jabber back like he was in a street fight. Shaking his head “no”, he came back at Jabber, left, left, left, right hook, Jabber was rattled. The bell rang. No idea if anyone was saved by the bell, but this was a very different fight than before. This was two warriors, not one warrior and a lost boy. Baby Leroy told Benny while he was in his corner, you had him. The next round, take him out.

The bell rang again, Jabber came in fast, he tried the same combination, Benny stepped back, and then back in, Jabber didn’t know what hit him. He was out, completely out. Benny had never seen a man just drop. It was as if he was an outsider watching a fight. He had beaten their best. As Jabber was helped up, Baby Leroy said, I told you you had this. I will never lie to you son. If I tell you a mouse can pull a wagon, hook him up. Still on a high that only a winner can know, he wanted to shower up and go somewhere to celebrate. But where does a 16 year old loner go? He goes home and hopes his parents don’t see he’s been in a fight, then off to his room. Today was a great day. The warrior child had his first victory. Life has a way of reminding us that not every experience will be a win. And Benny’s life was no different. Loss would always be his faithful companion.

The Professional:

Today was the day. Going pro as they call it. After almost three years of bloodsport and pain. Benny would hold the title of a professional boxer. Oh happy day. He was excited. Now 19 years old, in the shape of his life, and eager to become whatever he was becoming. Having made a name for himself in Golden Gloves, the new Benny was emerging as a pro fighter and that was exciting to him. Pride and a feeling of superiority would not serve him well in the future. But that is a lesson to be learned. There would be many lessons to come. Today was his day. Being licensed by the state to fight professionally. That’s what today was about. Not the future, not the money, not even what people thought. The only thing that mattered was how he felt today. And that was amazing…

Literally across the ring. That is how far he was knocked in his first professional fight. He’d never been hit so hard and so often. His knockout may have been merciful. It was also telling. He stood toe to toe with another professional boxer and lost magnificently. Not how he wanted to begin his historic rise to fame. And certainly not the record he wanted, 0 and 1. What on earth went wrong? Every thought imaginable went through his mind. If he was going to lose, why lose so easily? Why was he not able to even defend himself? Too many why’s and not enough answers. Boxing had so many rules. Was he meant to go back to civilian life, he thought. He was about as down as he’d ever been.

Four years later, as he stepped into the ring again, he was weary. With a record of 8 and 19, he had little to no chance to make it big in boxing. All he could do was stand tall to the guy in front of him. Just another road bump in a less that average boxing career. As they stood staring at one another before the bell rang, Benny wondered, has this guy found winning to be much harder than he’d expected like he had? What is winning really? At the end of the night we will both be in the hospital. If his stay is shorter, did he win? Philosophy is a terrible thing when one is bleeding. And by the end of the fight, they both were.

The Offer:

Gladiator sports… Benny had never heard that phrase before. Yet here he was, standing in front of a guy making him an offer. You hit like a mule kicks. You would be amazing without gloves, refs, and rules. Imagine hearing this after spending the majority of your adult life following rules and the ref’s orders. The day after the fight, a very suspicious man showed up at my door. How would you like to make some real money? Really? I make money now, Benny thought to himself. The stranger looked at him with very confident eyes. He knew what he wanted to say before he said it. Boxers like you flame out quickly. You were good enough to go pro, but not good enough to beat a lot of other professional boxers. It happens more often than not. Benny was intrigued, so he agreed to meet him in the morning at a local coffee shop for a serious conversation.

Benny woke up late. It seems injuries drain the life out of the body and sleep is something the body requires to move on. He noticed the time and dragged himself out of bed and began to move with purpose. They say time waits for no one, and the opportunity this guy was talking about came once in a lifetime. Maybe never in a lifetime. The money he said he would make per fight, should he qualify, was more than he’d ever hoped for as a boxer. It was life altering money. Fame? He never mentioned that… He’d find out why in the future.

He was kind of a weasel. His name was Jimmy, there was something very sleazy about Jimmy, but he spoke of a future in fighting that Benny knew he did not have in boxing. He was funny, but he knew he was there just following orders. Who gave him those orders, he had no idea. How would you like to make the big bucks? $10k per night. Looking back, Benny wished he had asked about the “per night” thing. He only knew per fight. That would be huge in his life. He asked for details. You will have to be trained, but we think you will be perfect. Intrigued, Benny said yes. The offer was just too good given the direction his boxing career was heading.

Training Day:

Benny showed up expecting trainers. What he found was Jimmy and another guy. Training will be intense, they said. You will go through several stages of training. The first will be with a master. Benny was asked to follow them. Three hours later, he was in the parking lot of a very seedy looking hotel. It was horrible. A clarifying picture of things to come. They entered an ally. There was a door that was very dark, They entered it and there it was. A dojo like none Benny had seen before. This would be his home for several months. He wasn’t excited about it, but he needed a career change and this held promise. That day was a turning point in his life and up till then was the most significant day yet.

Push, push, push. The training was brutal. It pushed Benny’s human limits. Strength training, endurance racing, diet, carbing up. They had found ways of adding weight to his body and dissolving fat. Injections and more injections, 1000 pushups before bed, he was becoming something unfamiliar. But it felt great. He could run, I mean run, forever, up and down streets too. He could strike a power bag so hard that the sound echoed all across the gym. He felt amazing, and felt so strong, he felt like a god. He was becoming invincible.

The Farm:

Four months of the most brutal yet amazing training he had ever had. He was becoming something he didn't know he could be. He was awakened at 4:00 AM. Get up, we are moving. The hole in the wall Benny called home was both a dump and had become home to him. It seemed disgusting when he arrived but he made it work. The drive was long, Jimmy had very little to say, he was usually talkative to the point of bothering him. So where is my new home? They call it The Farm. That sounded like a needed break to Benny, the inner city has its own charm, but hearing a rooster in the morning sounds great too. They drove for several hours, only stopping every little while for bathroom breaks. We were in the country now and it was beautiful. The air smelled so clean. On these country roads Benny began to imagine what this farm would be like. Nothing could have prepared me for the truth.

Anatomy 101:

The main house was big and beautiful. Off to the right was a huge barn with a small cabin beside it. They pulled up at the cabin, Benny grabbed the few items that belonged to him and took them in. Welcome home! He turned and there was a very large man in gym shorts on the porch standing at the door. No time to unpack, orientation is in ten minutes. Benny learned early on in this adventure to just go along, ask few questions, and do what he needed to to prepare him for what needed to be done. He walked over to the barn. It really was huge. Made of metal, red with a large sliding door to walk through. As he walked in, he was impressed by how neat it was kept. It had different sections for different uses. To the right was the ring, he supposed he could box there. To the left were rooms. Rooms without ceilings, the ceiling on the barn was very high, maybe 40 feet, they built these rooms to make him feel he was in classrooms, or that was the only thing he could think of.

They walked into the first room, there was a thin pale guy in a lab coat. Benny, this is Doc. He will be spending the next month or so with you. They shook hands. Doc’s hands were soft and weak, Benny’s had become large and muscular. He winced when he tried to give him a firm handshake. Benny realized he had changed to the point that he needed to keep his hand strength in check. Time for your first class Benny. Let’s learn something, he replied. For the next month we will be studying human anatomy. More importantly, how to destroy it. Benny smiled and said, well alrighty then. Classes were 5 hours a day, seven days a week. Physical training was even harder at the farm. Benny sparred with guys that were not his equal. There were moments when he felt he had no equal. His confidence was higher than ever. He was being taught the science of devastating other human beings. It fascinated him.

Well, They Called it a Farm:

Noticing no crops or animals, Benny was left to wonder why they named this, The Farm. They say curiosity killed the cat. He was about to find out why. After a month he was in the best shape of his life. He knew he was becoming something amazing and maybe a little scary, He knew he was being prepared for something amazing too. He followed Doc to another room, it was new to him. They walked in, it was cold and dark, it was refrigerated and had a ceiling. He flipped the lights on. Ten dead bodies lay on their own tables. The Farm was a body farm. And in retrospect, he was the cash crop. Himself and others like him. He’d find out later, there were very few. Today we will learn how to maximize damage to real humans. If he had not come so far, he’d leave right now. Looking back, this also desensitized him and taught him how to bring pain, lots of pain. They had to prepare his body to hurt other peoples bodies. They were definitely on track. Bone breaking, mastoid strikes, liver strikes, anything that could win a fight was what he learned. It was brute force meeting science. He had to admit, it felt great.

Fight Day:

They drove for over 12 hours. It was beautiful. They were in Connecticut, he thought. The state signs were a blur. What day is this Jimmy? Friday, we’ll be staying in a nice hotel tonight, you’ll love it. It was all that. This was the finest hotel Benny had ever seen. Benny had his own room, Jimmy said to enjoy it. Tomorrow night is your first fight. Benny still had no idea the type of fighting or the person he’d fight. He knew one thing. He would not want to be that guy. Benny felt like Superman. And that is who his opponent would be fighting. He actually couldn’t wait.

The Contestants:

The warehouse they were holding this fight in was large and in town. Benny was in an office inside of the warehouse. Put this on, Jimmy said. It was a baggy tee shirt. There was no ring, he was puzzled how they were going to have a fight without one. As he sat in a chair, it was a business chair behind a desk actually. Benny asked Jimmy who he would be fighting tonight. Just a few locals. A few? Jimmy, I am unsure I can take on a “few” guys at once, he said. Relax, you fight one at a time. Your job is to make it look close each time before you put them down. Make it look good. Benny knew what that meant. This entire journey had always been on the job training. As he walked out of the room he noticed the energy first, then the gambling, everyone made a human circle and he was walking towards the center of it. The names of the men they threw at him that night meant nothing to him. In all, one at a time, seven men entered the circle to fight Benny. Seven men were carried out. The hardest part of the night was making it look close, and not slipping on all the blood. He had become superhuman.

Payday:

They stayed an extra day at the hotel. Benny had to admit, it was a welcome break. He woke up and called Jimmy’s room. Let’s do something today Jimmy. Sounds great, I’ll be over in 30 minutes or so. Jimmy and Benny had never spent any time together other than work. Their drives were quiet. He never seemed to want to be there. They took a taxi to the city, it was refreshing. Choosing a cafe with outdoor seating, they relaxed. Jimmy handed him a check. It was made out to a company, B Power Inc. It was for $10,000.00. What’s this and who is B Power Inc? That’s what you made last night and B Power is a company they set up for you. Tomorrow I’ll take you to open a bank account. He’d never seen so many zeros. Growing up in the inner city in abstract poverty, this was shocking. We will be moving to Atlanta Georgia this week. Why Atlanta? Why not was all he got from Jimmy. Let’s get going.

Atlanta Georgia:

Growing up in Kentucky, made the North Georgia mountains look amazing. He’d never seen such green mountains. They were majestic in a way. Beautiful and clean. He pictured living in a cabin on a mountain top overlooking a river or lake. Maybe one day… They drove through Kennesaw Georgia and headed west, Kennesaw was a quaint little town north of Atlanta. The fact they have a law requiring every citizen to own a gun intrigued Benny. The south. A bastion of civil war history and beautiful small towns everywhere. Down a country road again. Where are we going Jimmy? Home, our home. He’d be sharing a home with Jimmy. He did not see that coming. Another farm. Horses, goats, ducks, and chickens, he loved it. The house was nice. He counted 4 bedrooms as he walked through it. Two masters, one was mine. I hope I’m here a while, Benny said in a cheerful voice.

The Life of a Gladiator:

Over the next few days, Jimmy and Benny were becoming friends. One night they decided to grill some steaks and have a few beers. Dinner on the back deck watching the horses play together was wonderful. How did I get to this place Jimmy? What have I walked into? You were chosen. You have a high IQ, hard to find in the boxing game. You pushed yourself physically. My job is to spot guys like you. Then manage them. What have you walked into? A machine, and you are a small cog in a huge wheel. They run a gambling machine. You my friend are a gladiator for the machine. You’re a ringer. What we call, a “fightist”. From what I can tell, we have 6 to 10 people like you at any given time. Your first fight made them over $19 million dollars. You received ten thousand, I get a little less. Every place you’ve been, including this place, belongs to them. They promote the fights to very wealthy people, some as far away as Dubai and Saudi Arabia. Some fights take in over $100 million dollars. They created you to win every fight, but make you wear a baggy tee shirt to make it look like you're not “all that”.

Every Two Weeks:

Benny’s employers had an interesting business model. He remained curious as he studied it. He trained everyday, He knew no other life now. Training was a habit, routine is his constant companion. His mind worked differently than most. He’d find out years later why. Today was a travel day. Where are we off to? Jimmy smiled and said, New Orleans. You’ll love it. Benny had healed up nicely from his last fight, he felt great. Honestly, looking back, he always felt great. It’s been about two weeks Jimmy. Is that going to be a thing? Every other Saturday night we fight. Some are bigger than others. This fight will be a big one. We are hosting some very wealthy people from the other side of the planet. Should be fun. Benny smiled. For whom will this be fun for? Jimmy laughed and said, you on payday. Remember to save your money. Shelf life in this business is brief.

Shelf Life:

Two years. They told Benny, that was longer than most made it as a gladiator. What does a warrior do when there are no more wars to fight, no battle to be won or lost? No contests to stand up to? He had money, he had a great mind and an amiable personality. He moved back to Kentucky and bought a small home on some land. Privacy mattered to him. His home sat far enough from the country road it was on that people didn’t notice he was there. He trained outside most days. Chopping wood for hours. His mind would drift to business. He decided he should open a business of some kind. The search for his passion was on. History, training, and art were what he found gave him energy. Art and history would be his chosen career. He began going to antique auctions in the mountains. He started storing the gems he bought and looking for where to market them and how.

Atlanta Calls Him:

Atlanta never left Benny’s heart and mind. After a lot of preparation and study, he settled on Atlanta again. He took a trip down south and began visiting areas that would make not only a great home, but a place that would be good for an antique and art store. Most days were spent just visiting these lovely little towns. He combed through ads daily until the print became blurry. He wanted to find a place that would not only be a great spot for retail, but would also have some history to it. The search was daily and obsessive. He knew when I saw it, he’d know.

Madison Georgia:

Morning coffee and a real estate magazine. This had become his reality of late. As he looked through the colorful ads and hoped something would catch his eye, there it was. A house in Madison Georgia. It looked perfect. Built in 1886, it was everything he’d been looking for. He called the agent immediately. It was a typical sunny day in the south, it was Spring, everything was blooming, He arrived in Madison anticipating something good was happening today. He drove through the prettiest little town he’d ever seen. Madison was a wealthy small town, south east of Atlanta. Founded by James Madison before he became our president. Antebellum homes were everywhere. And he was going to be looking at one of them. He pulled up to the house. Wow! That was the only word he could say at the moment.

Home:

The agent was filling him in on the history of this house. Her words fell on deaf ears. Benny was lost in the old architecture, the gingerbread on the three sided front porch. He was home. He was also going to have his business here. He would live upstairs and have his antiques and art downstairs. When can I move in? Well, we have to see when we can close. I’m writing a check. I’ll be ready to move tomorrow. Happy but confused, she said, let me see what I can arrange, her smile never left her face. In three weeks Benny was open for business. Marketing came naturally for him. Business began booming. You would think he’d be happy. He missed being a warrior. But that life was behind him. What to do now?

Benny Sees Bad Guys:

Benny had a BMW that he’d bought when he first retired from fighting. He ran an ad in a local publication. He received a call from a man who wanted to come and buy it. The car was over $20,000.00 and he wanted to pay cash. Of course I’ll accept cash, Benny answered. Why not? He came with his tribe. Africa somewhere was where his accent came from. He paid Benny for the car and left. A week later he received a call from a federal agent about the BMW. The car had been involved in a plot to scam a bank in Michigan for millions. The only thing the agent had to identify anyone was that Benny’s card was inside the glove box of his old car. It was a real estate deal that involved money laundering. Benny was instantly fascinated. The agent said he’d be in town soon and wanted to see Benny while he was there. He was intrigued. He began investigating this Stranger who bought his car. Turned out, it was a skill he had. And a passion.

Another Beginning:

Benny dug in, he began looking into everything about the guy that bought his car. He had about an hour long conversation. He was relaxed with him, like most are. He remembered every word. One thing he remembered was the area he lived in Atlanta and a bar he and his friends frequented. He went online and studied surveillance techniques. Figuring they were night owls, He watched. The next night was the payoff. There he was, with all his tribe in tow. It was a little after 2:00 am, they came out and headed home. Benny followed from a distance. They pulled into a townhome complex. He hung back, waited a few minutes and drove in. He knew they were here somewhere and only had to find the van they were in. There it was in the driveway. He went by, took a snapshot of the tag and wrote down the address. He had created an entire file on his foreign friends. Where they went during the day, places they liked to eat, their lives in a nutshell. It was exciting and fun for him.

The Offer:

The agent finally arrived in town and called. Can you meet me today? Of course. Benny gave him the address of a restaurant in downtown Madison with outdoor seating. They met at 1:00 pm. Sitting at a table outside, the sidewalk was made of brick. Quaint and something Benny particularly enjoyed. They shook hands and went right at his case. He said he needed to find out who this man was, he has hurt so many over the last 24 months. Benny handed him the file he compiled on them. Have you ever been a cop? No, just have a knack for finding people. I enjoyed it, he said. Three nights later they raided the townhome and took down what turned out to be a bank fraud network. Benny was pleased to get a bad guy off the street. He thought that was the end of it till a couple weeks later he received a call from a man he would forever know, as Rocky. I represent the American government and would like to buy your lunch. Benny had no idea how his life would change after that day.

Meeting The Handler:

Rocky was Italian and funny. Too much energy, but very likable. Looking back, he was a recruiter. I represent federal law enforcement. I’d like to know if you would consider working with us from time to time? I looked your tax records up, I know you do not need the money. It’s cash and we are generous. You are right. I am ok financially, Benny answered. But before I accept or reject your offer, what would I be doing? Investigations, building cases, making arrests. Pretty simple really. Benny’s imagination was piqued. I think I would like that, he said. We’ll set you up with everything you will need. I’ll call you soon. Wait. What agency do you work for? He smiled that broad smile, “all of them”. Again, Benny was intrigued. He really looked forward to his call.

My First Case:

Two weeks later Rocky called. Meet us at FBI headquarters, ask for Rocky at the front desk. He already had their address. It was north of Atlanta. Benny was uneasy, but excited to see a new chapter opening in his life. The antique business was great, art moved him, but something was missing. Maybe it was taking risks, maybe it was excitement. Or perhaps he’s just addicted to fear. The idea of doing something that might end in him dying was invigorating. The idea of thinking that confused him a little. Am I normal, he asked? The jury was still out on that one. All he knew was he had something exciting to look forward to and nothing was going to stop him from doing it.

Agent In Charge:

Rocky introduced him to Senior Field Agent Michaels. I’ve been assigned this case, I’ll be the agent in charge. I will be the agent you work with. You will not work with anyone but me. Rocky cannot know anything about my case. With that, Rocky excused himself. It was just the agent and Benny. The case was about an elusive con man named John. He left a trail of victims for over 10 years. He’d never been caught, he was good at taking things that weren’t his. He briefed Benny and handed him a copy of his file. Benny suddenly found himself so thankful for his two employees. He could take a case any time and they had his back. People like that are so hard to find. The case was impossible for the FBI to end because this guy moved every two weeks. He had two armed bodyguards, so it really made Benny’s head tingle with excitement. Time to dig in.

The Take Down And Arrest:

His first case took him 45 days. It turns out, that would be the longest one he’d have for the next twenty years. He set up a sting and he fell for it. He made the arrest himself at Aaron Rents in Buckhead, near downtown Atlanta. It will forever be burned into his memory. He thought the federal Marshals were meeting him there. They were stuck in traffic, it was on him to bring this to a conclusion. He walked into the store, it’s him, he told the two employees that Benny had prepared earlier. He began moving towards the door. Benny stepped in front of the door and locked it before he could leave. He pulled his weapon and ordered him on the floor. He had no cuffs, he yelled at the guy behind the counter to throw him a roll of tape. He taped his hands behind his back and took him to the back room. He stood him up by the back door. He began asking questions about where his gang was and the address of their operation. He just said, “I want an attorney”, and smirked. Benny grabbed his throat pinning him against the wall. Do you think I’m a cop *&X$#@, his eyes looked as big as dinner plates. He saw fear like he’d never seen before that day. He gave Benny the information. He would have told him anything really. He gave up his entire crew out of fear. He was now a rat. The marshals arrived minutes later and were amused to see a broken man sitting in a chair with his hands taped behind his back. Benny was surprised to learn he only served 3 years.

She Touched Me:

Benny was minding his store one day and in walked a girl. She was a vision. She began looking around, if you don’t find anything you want just ask, smiled Benny. There is more in the back. I’m Pam, she stuck her hand out, Benny, or Benjamin, if you were family. She bought a couple of small pieces and left. She also took a piece of his heart with her. That had never happened before. Their conversation sat directly into his heart. Women buy antiques all the time. Benny met so many of them and didn't feel a thing. This girl got his attention the second she walked into his shop. His hope was that she saw something else here she liked. He busied himself the rest of the day, but Pam stayed on his mind the rest of that evening.

He woke up before the sun the next morning. Something he felt was residual effects of his years of training. He still worked out. The intensity wasn’t the same. His friends considered me freakishly in shape. For him, he knew what being in shape was. He remembered, he always remembered how strong he became. And being able to run all day and never tire. He remembered when no other man had a chance against him. His confidence had not waned in the least. He was still becoming something. His entire life had felt like preparation for something. What? That remains to be seen.

Hunting Humans:

Rocky kept him busy. His spare time did not exist. His skill set seemed to be hunting. Bounty hunting for the feds. He doubted anyone saw that coming. I know Benny didn't. Hunting became a way of life for him. It served up the excitement he needed and locking up bad guys couldn’t be a bad thing. He spent most weekends hunting. The FBI gave him access to all of their databases. Had he wanted to do domestic work, that would have been a handy tool. But chasing wayward spouses seemed repulsive to him. Not needing the money helped make decisions about what he spent his time doing easier. His antique and art business was growing and he had plenty of time to pursue other passions.

Expert Witness:

Rocky called last night. Calling at night was odd for him. He always felt he was put on his agenda most days and he was at the top of his call list. Benny usually heard from him before 6:00 am. I want to introduce you to someone in the morning, Rocky stated. So that morning, Benny stood at the federal building in Macon Georgia. Hello Benny, Rocky called and apologized, he won’t be joining us. In Benny’s mind, everything happens for a reason. Rocky was an operative. If he wasn’t here, it was because being here would hurt the outcome of the op. The man who greeted Benny was a federal prosecutor. He needed help with a money laundering case. He led Benny into his office and handed him a case file. As he read through it he saw an easy case in his opinion. Why do you need me? This case is a no brainer. He sat back in his chair and looked at Benny. I’ve had him here before. I had a first hand witness just like I do now. In that case, my witness died before trial. I have another first hand witness this time too. They do not know his identity. I’m asking you to be him. I need someone who can stay alive till this guy is behind bars. Rocky said you might be perfect for this. Benny’s new friend was asking him to follow a script on the stand. Lie under oath. You will be Ben Stone while the trial goes on. Benny smiled, I’m in. The trial begins next week. Here’s your script. Rocky wasn’t here so that there would be no witness to him asking me to lie under oath.

The Trial:

The following week came quickly. Benny arrived at the courthouse prepared for his role as an expert witness. As the proceedings began, he studied the courtroom and everyone in it. People interested him. He guessed that everyone says that, but his fascination with them is borderline obsessive. He wanted to know about everyone he met. The defendant looked very sociable. Like a nice guy. Unlike the jury, Benny had an opportunity to browse his file. He was a dangerous man and capable of great evil. They wrapped up the first day, Benny was told he did a great job. Evidently it was good enough to cause his defense attorney to ask for a plea deal. The first day was the last. They wrapped up. The guy received a sentence of 6 years in the federal penitentiary. There would be more courts, more scripts, more bad guys seeing Ben Stone on the stand. Benny would remember every last one of them.

She’s Back:

Minding the store that day was boring. He was alone most of the day, few customers, and very little to do. He toyed with the idea of closing early. At that moment he heard the ding of the bell on the front door. Pam, hello, you came back. Yes I did. I was in the area and thought I’d see if anything interesting came in. I went to an auction in Tennessee last week. I picked up a few paintings you may like, come this way. As they walked towards the back of the store she asked, is there a good place to eat in town? Yes, several. A few are stand alone restaurants, owned by locals. That’s the best kind, she said. It’s after 5, what time do you eat? Pam, I was just thinking of closing early and going to dinner. How about I show you around my beautiful town? I’d love that, she said with a grin. Closing up quickly, they jumped in his truck and headed out for a night he would remember the rest of his life.

Love Happens:

Pam and Benny saw one another every chance they could. He’d never been in love before. This was new territory for him, did he know how to love? Would she love him back? Days, weeks, months, they turned into years. They loved one another. Marriage was the inevitable end to this journey. The end. They were married at her home. A small wedding and a wonderful honeymoon. They decided on Charleston South Carolina for five days. It was one of the happiest times of their lives. He was so in love. He knew she would be his soulmate forever. Love is a powerful thing, many never find it. He felt he was the luckiest man alive. Other moments to be thankful for were on the way. He had just begun his most interesting adventure.

Having My Baby:

Three years passed like three weeks, business was booming, they had grown so much as a couple. Benny didn’t know he could be so happy or love so much as today. It was so busy at work and his bride had asked him to come home early. Dinner at home and a movie, cuddling with his girl. Who wouldn’t want to come home early for that? The drive home seemed long that day, they had been talking about selling the house and moving closer to his store. It’s a conversation that is getting ready to move to the front of the line. He pulled into the garage and walked in, Pam had a way of always having something awesome cooking, the smell is always wonderful. She made their house a home…

Thank you for dinner baby, thank you she said. I have news she said with excitement. What’s the news sweetie? I'm pregnant! Not even for a nanosecond did he think about it. That’s awesome Pam. They had been trying to have a baby for over a year. His previous life led to injuries to his baby making parts and we were having difficulties conceiving. This was amazing news for their family. He was on another adventure, but this time he had a partner in crime. The love of his life will take this one with him. Happiness was magnified that night.

Family Matters:

Her name is Madison Elizabeth, they will call her Madi. She is the most beautiful person he had ever seen. This might be the best day of his life. This was the most impressive achievement in his life. Did he really achieve something here? Ha, who cares, he was so happy. This little girl would be his life, the reason he did anything important, she will be one of his main purposes in life. He was a father now. He had a great dad. He only hoped he could be as good as he was. He remembered that he couldn’t wait to call him and give him the news. Everything changed in their lives when Madi arrived, everything.

Changes:

He came home from work, Madi heard him and made a beeline for daddy, it was the happiest moment of the day for Benny, everyday. She was two now and was their world. Benny, we need to talk… Pam had a beautiful heart and those words never rattled him. What is it baby? How would you feel about going to church? I hadn’t thought much about it, he said, but sure. Raising Madi in church seemed like a great idea. Any thoughts on a church babe? We received this flyer yesterday. Rock Falls Church, it’s just two miles from us and it’s a contemporary style church. I’m in baby. Find out what time we should be there and we’ll go. 11:00 am sweets. Casual dress. Benny couldn’t wait.

Changes were coming. Many. Benny embraced positive change, he always had. Their lives had a cadence to them. They were a family that went to church regularly, They were active in their community, and they took a mini vacation every month. Life was good. It couldn’t get better than this.

It Gets Better Than This:

Benny will never forget the day he walked in the door and Pam had a frightened look on her face. Baby, are you ok? Is something wrong? I have something to tell you and how you feel about it will decide if something is wrong. Pam, spill it. You can always say anything to me, you know that. I’m pregnant, she blurted out. Benny was fired up, he wanted another child, this was perfect. He would be his last child. She saw the excitement in his eyes, she smiled and said, I knew you would be happy. Like he says all the time, changes are coming and these kinds of changes were amazing.

Life In Motion:

Ben Jr came on the scene and gave them another love of their lives. He was amazing. As the years flew by, they found that he was so smart. He just figured things out. His mind worked like Benny’s and he looked like a mini Benny. Scouting would become a big part of the family. Madi would grow up and become a Gold Scout, Ben would achieve his Eagle Scout award. They raised two wonderful humans. Two responsible, smart, active people. They didn’t raise children, they raised adults. Pam and Benny did well by them.

Trouble Brewing:

They enjoyed a great lifestyle. Benny had become comfortable with others running his store, it had grown to the point that he was looking for a second location. Years ago he converted the part of his home he lived in, into an upper showroom, Ebay, and online sales rose every year. Crazy growth and it seemed the music would never end. But as they say, all good things must come to an end. He just never thought theirs would. Times they were changing. Not good change, the bad kind. After an assessment and some forensic accounting, Benny was done. His employees became addicted to meth and stole everything he had. In the end they lost everything. Their homes, properties, and social standing. Most will understand that last one. The only thing left to do was to file for bankruptcy relief. They were left with nothing. They had to move into a rental house, everything had changed. They were changing. Their relationship was changing. She looked at him differently.

Moving On:

It was over. Every dream, every great night, event, vacation, and anniversary. They were done. He just couldn’t make a comeback. Making a living always came easy for him in the past. Today, he wasn’t capable. Today he was alone. Pam had to go back to work, she worked three jobs. She barely got by. Benny rented a bedroom in a stranger's home. And even then, he barely made it. He was miserable. What does a man do that no longer has a clue what to do next. He could barely make enough to eat. He began shrinking his life so that he owed less. He became a minimalist. Still, he was broken and broke. He needed to make a living. He’d tried everything. He applied for many jobs before his marriage fell apart. None wanted a has been or a used to be broken man. A man who use to be something. He was a shell of that man. How could he go from where he was to where he is? The solution doesn’t manifest itself. Every day is Groundhog Day, all the same.

The Past Is The Future Again:

Benny woke up early and headed to a nearby lake. He needed to make a decision, it could be the most important of his life. Money was gone and none was coming in at any future date. He was looking at being homeless. The thought was awful. The only asset he had was his old truck. Would that now be his home? He met a guy that knew his history, he gave him a number of a guy, a biker. There was a fight club that was involved in gambling. It was run by a biker club. Underground, illegal fighting. It had been many years. Could he still survive in the ring? He made the call. The man on the other end of the phone said he’d meet with him. The first fight is free my man. That will be your resume. If you can fight, you’ll get $1000.00 per fight if you are good. He gave Benny a place and time. No phones or recording devices. Benny already knew that.

Out Of Retirement:

Saturday night, a warehouse, and a bunch of drunks. Benny showed up and checked in. Tonight would be free and tonight will tell him if I still had what it took. Uncertainty had never been his companion before. But there he was, big grin and all. A guy knocked on the door. You’re up. Benny came out and walked towards the circle of people. His opponent was already there and waiting. He was a bit bigger and a lot younger than him. Benny was just a middle aged man in a young man's game. He began to taunt Benny. For some reason him telling Benny what he was going to do to him made Benny smile. He could not stop smiling. Ding! They moved towards one another, he swung a right at Benny, he stepped back, he hit nothing. He was angry and losing control. Benny used an old trick, he kicked forward into the front of his hip, predictably, he grabbed Benny’s leg, Benny pulled his leg in and struck his mastoid with a hard right. He was asleep. I still have it, Benny thought to himself. It felt like old times.

Becoming Thunder:

The fight game was going well. Benny was slower and older, so he got hurt, but he continued winning. He won easily, although he was slower, the science remained the same. The money was good. $1000.00 every Saturday night in cash. He could live well on that. It wasn’t a permanent solution. But money to live indoors and eating every day was the goal at the moment. Because the fights were illegal, no one used their real names. They use nicknames and the biker in charge picked them. Benny’s handle was, Thunder. This because he was slow but powerful. All thunder no lightning. Benny liked it and thought it was an honest handle. He won every fight. It didn’t take long to go through their best and beat them all. Gambling on Thunder’s fights began to change. Instead of betting on Benny or the other guy, they bet on how long the fight would last before his opponent was out. The music wasn’t great this time, but he didn’t want it to end anytime soon.

The Event:

It was a beautiful Saturday. Benny visited a gym in Atlanta. It was inner city and seedy. But he liked it. He always felt it gave him an edge. He had a light workout that day because it was fight night. He showered, packed up and headed outside. He had to park a block away on the street. Walking through gang territory was never a good idea. A handgun doesn’t care how much you trained. He was walking down the street past an ally. Motions made him look. There were 7 guys kicking what looked like a couple of cops. Benny approached, the officers were hurt badly and they weren’t stopping. Benny was running now, He made to the guy holding a gun kicking the male officer, Benny hit him hard, he fired a shot that sunk into Benny’s right thigh. He stepped back and instantly threw a left hook and what might have been the hardest right uppercut he ever delivered. He hit the ground and his gun slid towards the others. Another guy was picking it up so Benny moved as quickly as he could towards him to take him out, he fired a shot into his stomach, it burned but he knew he had to move. He shattered his face, he was out, then Benny methodically began taking out the ones that didn’t run. The gang on the ground and Benny getting foggy.

He grabbed the female officer and threw her over his shoulder and dragged the male officer at the same time. He leaned him against the front tire of their cruiser and laid her on the hood. She was waking up. Benny asked if she could hear him, yes I can she said. He placed the gun in her hand and told her to radio for help. He could barely stand or even lean. I’m done sweetie, he said. Protect yourself. Benny remembered nothing after that.

Almost… :

Waking up in the hospital dazed and confused. His first words. Are the officers ok? The nurse was startled. You’re awake! It turns out he was in a coma for over a week. No one expected him to survive. He felt so weak. His room was full of cards, balloons and well wishes of all types. The doctor came in and asked how he felt. Lost, that was all he could think of to say. How am I doc? Well, I’ll know more in a couple of days. Benny wasn’t patient at all. And he was ready to go home. The next two days dragged on. He waited but was ready to go home. He had to get out of here. He almost died, but he was asleep the whole time. Processing was needed, but he will do that alone. He heals quicker than most. Maybe it’s the steroids he still takes, maybe it’s genetics. Maybe it’s both.

Another week in the hospital was brutal. He hates hospitals and he likes to do for himself. When the doc came in and asked if there was anyone home to take care of him, I’ll be home and will take care of myself, was all he could say. His doctor stared at him for a long minute. Ok, you will be out of here shortly. But your life has changed. I’ll let you figure out how on your own.

My Story:

Youtube is an amazing thing. It turns out a couple of people watched Benny fighting and getting shot twice. They filmed it on their phones and it went viral. He was now, internet famous and a lot of people now knew Benny. They didn’t know the whole story. Calls flooded in. Everyone wanted to interview him. Before he did anything, he had to process what had happened to him. People inhibit that process. Days went by and thoughts of what really happened. He found himself talking with God. He began praying again, he was a prayer warrior back in the day. God did something here. He had to know what. His processing took a turn.

God’s Preparation:

Prayer. It’s a direct connection with God. Seeking Him is seeking His purpose for your life. Benny’s purpose was to be prepared to save those officers. He’ll probably never know why. God really does work in unusual ways. Looking back on his life, he could see how He prepared him for that day.

He prepared him for this.

Benny’s Recap:

He had me train as a boxer as a 16 year old lost kid. He instilled the tenacity that even after being shot I kept going.

He made me fearless when He sent me traveling the nation fighting strangers in strange places.

He made me fierce by having me make myself feel invincible.

He taught me to love by giving me Pam and my kids.

He taught me how unimportant I am by breaking me financially.

He taught me to value others by allowing me to unconditionally love my family.

He reminded me I was a warrior by allowing me to fight and win again.

He prepared my heart to give my life away when I lost my family.

Benny wrote; I had my story. It was the story God wrote for me. It was God preparing me for His use. This was my story and this story will be told. Of all the offers for an interview. My old pastor called to check on me. After I told him my story he was quiet for a moment. Would you consider telling your story on Sunday at Rock Falls? That wasn’t what I expected. If God is in this then where I grew with God seemed a good choice. Yes, I’ll be there.

Restoration:

Walking into Rock Falls Church seemed like old times. I hadn’t been here in years. It was by all definitions, a mega church. But very personal. They did it right. People didn’t get lost here. I went straight to Pastor Dan’s office. It was so good to see him again. You ready for this Benny? As ready as I'll ever be. The music ended and Dan walked on stage. He spoke for a moment and said, I have a very special guest today. Some of you will remember him, most of you have seen a video of him saving two Atlanta police officers. The sound level rose. Give a warm welcome to Benny. The entire church stood and clapped. I stood watching them. How humbling it was. Dan and I sat on stools and he asked me questions. My story of how God prepared me for that one moment. How decades of preparation prepared me for less than one minute of use. How I prepared even through loss. Especially the loss of my family.

Pastor Dan began talking about God’s timing and God’s redeeming love. He then looked at me and asked the big question. How can I pray for you? Dan, I wasn’t expecting this question. He’d never really thought about it. What does his heart want? I lost my wife and I lost my kids. Benny began crying, hardly able to talk at all. God please restore my life. He fell to his knees. Dan knelt with me, the church was so quiet.

Daddy…

Benny turned to see my Madi standing to his left

His son Ben, his Eagle Scout stood beside her

You could hear a pin drop

Pam stood up. Through her tears she spoke. We love you Benny, come home…

Pastor Dan motioned for my family to make their way to the stage. They came up and all we all could do was cry and hold one another.

Benny looked at Dan and said I’m sorry to take so much time.

He was gracious.

If all we do today is watch you guys love on each other, it was a good day at church.

---------------------------------------------

This is a story of God’s unconditional love. How He uses our actions, even our mistakes to prepare us for our purpose He has for us. This is also the story of how He restores us out of the love He feels for us.

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toldnews-blog · 6 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/technology/entertainment/chewbacca-fan-turned-fire-capt-reflects-on-actors-legacy/

Chewbacca Fan-Turned-Fire Capt. Reflects on Actor's Legacy

A Vista, California, Fire Department captain and lifelong “Star Wars” fan who famously dresses up as Chewbacca on his days off was hit hard by the death of actor Peter Mayhew, a man he said “was everything, for everyone.”

“It’s hard to put into words what Chewbacca meant to the [‘Star Wars’] community,” Vista Fire Dept. Capt. Samuel Craig told NBC 7 earlier this week. “He was the passion; the teddy bear; the loyalty. He was everything, for everyone.”

“When something bad happened on screen, you got the visceral reaction from him,” Craig added. “You got to see the raw passion and he really reflected what you saw.”

Mayhew, 74 – best known for his iconic role as Chewbacca in the “Star Wars” series – died April 30 at his home in Boyd, Texas. The 7-foot-2 actor was the man inside the Wookiee’s furry suit in five “Star Wars” films beginning with the original trilogy released from 1977 to 1983.

Mayhew put the Chewbacca suit on again in 2005 for “Revenge of the Sith,” and in 2018 for “The Force Awakens. The actor also voiced the character in cartoons and video games, and attended countless conventions, meeting fans at every turn.

One time, one of those fans was Craig.

For the fire captain, it was one of those moments in life that never leaves your heart.

Craig was wearing a life-size Chewbacca costume when he met his hero. Mayhew was impressed by the get-up and humbled to see the impact of his character on Craig’s life. They took a few photos together.

“He was so gracious,” Craig recounted. “It was a really great moment.”

Craig said he was raised on the magic of “Star Wars.” In fact, it was the very first movie he ever saw in a theater.

“My dad took me when I was young, on opening day, in 1977,” he said. “I still don’t know why he took someone that young to see the movie. Growing up, my entire life was about ‘Star Wars’ and Chewbacca was just always a favorite. He stands out; he was everything – he was the friend.”

Craig passed down his love of Chewbacca and “Star Wars” to his own son. He was able to take his son to the movies in 2015 to see “The Force Awakens.”

He also involved his son and wife in the making of his Chewbacca costume, which he has famously worn to San Diego Comic-Con International.

Peter Mayhew, Chewbacca in ‘Star Wars,’ Dies at 74

In 2015, the costume was a showstopper among Comic-Con fans who lined up to take pictures with Craig.

“Our whole family has a connection to the character,” he added.

The costume took the Craig family 18 months to make. His son was only 5 and 6 years old at the time of the crafty undertaking. Each strand of hair was painstakingly placed on the costume and colored to match Chewbacca’s appearance.

When Craig donned the costume at Comic-Con, he walked on 15-inch stilts, making him 7-foot-8 – pretty close to the height of the real Chewie.

“[My] Chewbacca costume is as close to screen-accurate as my family and I were able to make it,” Craig explained.

Today, when he’s not wearing his fire captain uniform, Craig continues to suit up in his Chewbacca costume, wearing it to community and charity events around San Diego’s North County.

In fact, he was on the phone setting up his next gig as Chewbacca earlier this week – for May the 4th, of course – when he heard news of Mayhew’s death.

He was crushed.

His son, knowing Craig’s love for Chewbacca, was worried about his dad’s feelings.

In Memoriam: Peter Mayhew, Chewbacca of ‘Star Wars’

Although Mayhew is gone, Craig finds solace in the fact that the actor’s legacy and all that Chewbacca stands for will never fade.

All fans need to do is turn on a “Star Wars” movie to feel the powers of Chewie.

“Peter Mayhew was this wonderful man, and that really comes out in the character of Chewbacca. If you watch the performances carefully, you can occasionally see when it’s a stunt person in the costume. Peter Mayhew’s personality really came out,” Craig explained. “That could’ve so easily been a character in a furry costume. So many of the mannerisms – so much of the heart – he really created a character where I don’t really even know if it was meant to be.”

“That’s what made it an endearing character,” he added. “It wasn’t the costume, it was the man inside the costume. For me, he was loyalty. He was this friend who stuck with Han Solo through everything. He really showed the best of what that world could be, which really had a lot to do with the actor that was inside that costume.”

Craig is far from alone in his love for Mayhew. The “Star Wars” universe is grieving.

Earlier this week, “Star Wars” cast members and devoted fans of the franchise mourned the loss of the gentle giant, and the joy his footprint left on their lives forever.

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meekochan-art · 8 years ago

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[ NOTE ] Unfinished, but I want to move on.

Modern AU guesswork of Liesl and Goblin King from Wintersong (by S. Jae-Jones).

AUs aren’t my thing. And yet... I wondered what kind of music Liesl would write, leading to what they might look like and figured it would be the closest thing to drawing a hawt Goblin King my hand is capable of doing. (Some songs I listen to lead to this pondering, since classical bores me. Overall, I got bad taste in music, so not gonna even attempt a playlist. But! Will mention that when shuffle played NIN “Closer” I was like, whoa, this totally fits their initial internal struggles and escapes before they find themselves. [edit] After reading the unadulterated version, their struggle doesn’t match the struggle I interpret in “Closer.” [/edit] )

When deciding a pose, this particular one immediately popped in mind. Thought of one of their early conversations, either in Goblin Grove or Marketplace Mall. (Leaning towards Goblin Grove for privacy.) Liesl is guarded and wary of Goblin King as he removes her headphones. (Or put on; I clearly didn’t add enough detail to suggest she’s listening to something to escape/ignore him. Lack of planning. *sweatdrop* )

So... What do you see? *.* Any storytellers conjuring up a scenario for this scene? (Or a seasoned AU consumer/creator desiring to correct my guesswork with the red pen of doom?) Please! Share your imagination in a reblog! (I beg of you: entertain meeeeeeee~)

The follow wall of texts are what I thought of when modernizing of Liesl and Goblin King as if Wintersong were to be set in modern times instead.

Liesl: Plain, dull, invisible... But not fugly; that would attract attention. Not sure if I should think of her as a cat person or a wolf lover... Part time local college student with undecided major, mostly due to being in a rut from helping out with local family business--a diner--and her slightly backwards thinking alcoholic father. (Her mother’s biggest mistake/regret is marrying the bastard?) Kathe is super hot and popular, and rumors suggests she slept with half the school. (Of course, Liesl does not believe such rumors.) Josef is a slowly becoming something on youtube...and in the near future something viral. Hans...the boring boy next door, I guess. *shrugs* Oh, and her grandma would be running a psychic hotline scam! No idea about Antonius and Francois...music producer and contracted child entertainer? Back to Liesl. She goes by Liz, maybe Lizzy as a young child. Music is her passion, obviously, and she mainly listens to highly artistic music plus quite a few strange experimental sleep-inducing tracks. Naturally, she’s the secret genius behind her lil bro’s unique sounds. Instruments...she has dabbled in all sorts, but main instrument of choice would be the electronic keyboard due to its convenience.

Goblin King: A mystery. Really. (How many decades/centuries has he lived? Does he update with time? Does the Underground now have electricity? Does metal burn him?) When I turned off my brain, gothic punk attire won. Though I suspect that’s just my subconscious forcing that aesthetics onto him. Sorry if I ruined him for you. *mopes* Could have left him with historic attire but it felt too...time travel-ish. I guess casual clothing would have been more fitting but so boring. (And what kind of casual would a modern day Goblin King don?) As for music, he listen to anything, but performs only certain genres. I can’t imagine him performing t(w)een pop. Not even humming along. Or, should that genre be a guilty pleasure of his? o.o’ In modern time, he’d upgrade to an electric violin for occasional fun, but still mostly rock on his acoustic. Somehow. Don’t ask me how. (Currently can’t think of how he’d transition to electric guitar. Otherwise that’s what I’d give him. Lead guitarist of The Underground! ...that’s a very uncreative band name. orz )

If you’re bored--or just plain curious--bonus stuff under cut~

[ WARNING ] The following image may cause you to spit/choke whatever’s in your mouth.

What if...

I had to. I just had to. *walks out the door*

*sneaks back in* Okay, with that out of the way...

Intended to sketch up other styles but realized I’m way too lazy to google for ref. (I seriously can’t fashion. I google preppy and was like, nope, not gonna study.)

Also tried to sketch out other characters in modern time but didn’t get far...

Here’s Kathe. (Face is random cause I failed to formulate one in my mind.) As already mentioned, I can’t fashion. Seriously. I can’t. Despite years of flipping through fashion mags. Figured in modern time Kathe would be a health/fitness enthusiast that proudly shows off her killer(?) bod (that I failed to sketched out.)

Still scrolling? Wow, you must be bored as hell!

If you’re one of those rare few people that enjoy seeing art progression from the beginning to the end... (If the GIF fails to load, please view it on dA.) As you can see, I wasted quite a bit of time adjusting Goblin King’s head and expanded the canvas and eventually just gave up after painting the values. (Meant to try glazing coloring technique again.)

Oh, and that cropped image (with large ass watermark) at the top of this post... Supposed to be 100% zoom but gonna assume it’ll fail. Please fullview it on dA. ^^

#wintersong #modern AU #s jae-jones #artrage #fanart #digital art #meekochan

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pwchronicle · 6 years ago

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Chikara “The Infinite Gauntlet” Live Show Report May 11th in Philadelphia, PA

This was my first Chikara event since “Once Upon a Beginning” in Jersey City last month, which featured Sidney Bakabella return to the promotion as the new Director of Fun, as well as Dasher Hatfield defeat Mr. Touchdown in the best Ladder Match of the week to become the undisputed Grand Champion of Chikara. This was also my first event back in the Wrestle Factory since March. A very full crowd with a number of new fans coming in.

1. Still Life With Apricots and Pears beat Thief Ant to retain the Young Lions Cup with their Venus de Milo leg lock. It started with Still Life requesting referee Kris Levin to position the Young Lions Cup (now sporting a bouquet of flowers while in Still Life’s possession) on the entrance stage for the cameras. As Levin obliged, Still Life chop blocked Thief Ant’s knee before the opening bell, establishing Still Life as the heel after they received a warm reception during their entrance. Still Life continued working over Thief Ant’s knee, applying a figure four that Thief Ant was able to reverse. A little later Thief Ant used a figure four as well, but Still Life got to the ropes. The finish came out of Still Life throwing the Cup into Thief Ant’s hands, followed by Still Life hitting a bulldog amidst the confusion. Solid opener.

2. Lucas Calhoun & Stray Kat beat Travis Huckabee & Icarus when Calhoun pinned Icarus following a back suplex from a powerslam position following a kick from Kat. Allie Kat is now based on the East Coast, and she has started working in Chikara more with a modified name and black gear to mesh better with new partner Calhoun. Huckabee came out with his Campeonato de Parejas (his co-campeon Tony Deppen was absent, having popped up in PWG the previous night), and Icarus came out in a loud shirt, claiming to be on vacation and just acting especially sleazy. Kat wanted each of them to scratch her belly. When Icarus removed his shirt, Kat scratched his back twice to his displeasure. The match had some clunky moments but overcame them. Kat was able to survive a pedigree, and when Icarus went to hit a shiranui on Kat, Calhoun caught him on his shoulder to set up the finish. This was Calhoun & Kat’s second point towards a title shot.

3. Der Wildebeest (w/ Jakob Hammermeier) beat Missile Assault Man with a running cross body. Hammermeier is back in Chikara, with a new hair cut and a new monster to do his bidding in Der Wildebeest, a wide masked man with a thick beard, tattoos, furry gear, and no shoes. Hammermeier handled the ring announcing for him (his role for the BDK when he first appeared nine years ago), but did both that and corner his new monster while in his wrestling gear. He did a lot of talking and interfering during the match. At one point Wildebeest plowed Missile Assault Man over the top rope, and he had two front row fans help him back into the ring before he could get counted out. Towards the end, Jakob got on the edge of the ring to instruct Wildebeest to give Missile Assault Man a death valley driver, but Missile Assault Man slipped out and booted Jakob off the ring, only to lose right afterward. Jakob then kicked him low and hid behind Wildebeest as they left to the back. I can totally get behind Jakob being back.

4. The Colony (Fire Ant & Thief Ant) beat The Creatures of the Deep (Merlok & Cajun Crawdad) after they hit Merlok with a spiked Beach Break. My favorite match of the undercard. The ants worked together early on, only for Merlok to take them both down with a pounce when they attempted Ants Marching on Crawdad. Merlok showed off his power early, hitting a corner cannonball on both ants while one of them was on his shoulders. He and Crawdad hit Fire Ant with an Emerald Frosion/top rope double stomp for only a nearfall, with Green Ant making the save. They also set up a spot that was very well executed, with Crawdad attempting a springboard move into the ring, only to be taken out by Green Ant hitting a dropkick off the ropes. Even after this hard-fought victory, Merlok and Crawdad still attacked the Colony afterward, even forcing the ref to count a pin on Fire Ant, just so Crawdad could celebrate as if he actually won.

- Intermission.

5. Ophidian won the Infinite Gauntlet Match to win a Golden Opportunity. This match made up the remainder of the event, nearly lasting a full hour. Thirty-three wrestlers, starting with two in the ring and a new entrant coming out every eighty-eight seconds (though there were hiccups with the countdown screen and entry sound effects early on before they were sorted out) Eliminations occurred via pinfall, submission, or being thrown over the top rope with both feet hitting the floor (this match predates MLW’s Battle Riot, having started in 2016). The order of entry was:

1. Boomer Hatfield 2. Danjerhawk 3. Sonny Defarge 4. Dasher Hatfield, rocking the gold mask he debuted in Jersey City 5. Ice Cream Jr. 6. Nytehawk 7. Kobald 8. Frantik 9. Fireman’s Carry Fry, the first of five enhancement wrestlers in this match 10. Cornelius Crummels 11. BLANK 12. Molly McCoy, a debuting student who came out in hockey gear and wrestled in Flyers colors 13. Volgar 14. Snapmare Matt 15. John Francis of Coronado, now waving the American flag and decked out in stars and stripes, including his bow tie 16. Armbreaker Amir 17. Worker Ant 18. Rick Roland 19. Officer Warren Barksdale 20. The Whisper 21. Jawbreaker Josue 22. Oleg the Usurper 23. Bull James, formerly of NXT 24. Unsocial Jordan, an Australian wrestler 25. Enzuigiri Evan 26. Hermit Crab 27. Shazza McKenzie, back again from Australia 28. Razerhawk 29. Duke “The Dumpster” Droese, now in his 50s and wrestling with a prosthetic leg 30. Hallowicked 31. El Hijo del Ice Cream 32. Solo Darling 33. Ophidian

A number of stories to come out of this, the biggest one having nothing to do with the result. After being able to pin Danjerhawk and eliminate Defarge, Boomer and Dasher were left in the ring. Dasher instructed Boomer to leave the ring, but Boomer stuck around and fought. They eliminated Ice Cream Jr. and Nytehawk quickly as they continued wrestling each other. Then the next few entrants opted to stay on the floor while the the two Hatfields fought, beginning with Kobald taking a seat in the front of the bleachers and having a snack. BLANK rallied the others on the floor when he came out, but they all got eliminated, save for Fireman’s Carry Fry, who landed on an eliminated Frantik, escaped a powerbomb from him, and got onto the bleachers, hiding out while taking a seat next to me (I wasn’t able to get a good picture of us). When McCoy entered, she was revealed as Dasher’s niece, and she tried to smooth things over between Dasher and Boomer. She turned out to be on Dasher’s side all along and assisted him in eliminating Boomer. When the third enhancement wrestler Armbreaker Amir entered, he helped Fry re-enter the ring, and Amir, Fry, and Snapmare Matt worked together to toss out McCoy, as well as pin Worker Ant and Barksdale by piling up on them.

As this story of the enhancement talent rallying together begins to build, the recently rechristened John Francis of Coronado goes on a tear, gaining great support from the Wrestle Factory crowd that once largely despised him. Francis was able to eliminate Roland, who was still going after him after the Closers beat him up. He dropkicked Volgar to assist Dasher and someone else trying to eliminate him. Dasher gave Francis a high five for this, taking him by surprise, then immediately tried to toss him out, only for Francis to reverse it and toss him out for a huge ovation! Shortly after this, focus shifted back to the enhancement talents, as Jawbreaker Josue entered to join the other three, retrieving some tools from underneath the ring and proceeding to loosen the top turnbuckles so as eliminate the top rope. This pretty much happened by the end, but it got difficult as Oleg and Bull James shifted their focus from each other to them. When Enzuigiri Evan entered, he was the biggest and most powerful of the five students. I could see him having a future beyond this. He was able to pin James, and then the five students all ganged up to pin Oleg. Hermit Crab and was unfortunately eliminated by them almost as soon as he entered the ring, and the two Australian guests didn’t get a chance to really do much. Francis was able to kick out after receiving a pop-up powerslam from them (or maybe he wasn’t meant to be pinned after such a strong showing in his new tecnico role?). He was tossed out of the ring afterward, but the students slowly started to get eliminated. Droese of course brought a trash can with him, using it to eliminate one of the students. Armbreaker Amir used his armbreaker to make Droese tap out. The final four left in the ring, if I recall correctly, were Hallowicked, Darling, Whisper (who lasted a while), and Enzuigiri Evan. With the ropes being so loose at this point, all four of them tumbled to the floor... just before Ophidian made his entrance as the final entrant. As soon as he stepped in the ring, he was declared the winner and was awarded the three point medallions for his future Golden Opportunity. He nonchalantly accepted them and left, and talking with someone else online about it after the show ended, there’s a chance that the students rallying together was all in an effort to help Ophidian, their trainer, win the match. Time will tell.

Just as Ophidian left, Boomer re-entered the ring and called out his dad to exchange some harsh words. Dasher took the mic first, quietly called him “you little disappointment,” then got louder in running him down. He said Boomer doesn’t deserve to carry his bags, wrestle in his ring, share his last name, nor wear his mask. Boomer took over, saying that Dasher taught him a lot of great values in the past, but now he just sees him as a liar, a cheater, and a bully. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re not my dad!” The two began fighting again, refs tried to separate them, and then Bakabella walked out to calm them down. He referenced Fritz Von Erich in his intolerance for family in-fighting, so he made an official match for the return to Chicago in two weeks, Dasher Hatfield vs. Boomer Hatfield, Mask vs. Mask. Dasher then kicked Boomer low and swarmed him as Bryce Remsburg and seemingly the entire tecnico roster (including John Francis) caused him to leave the ring. Then Boomer got up on his feet as everyone else in the ring took a knee, and without a mic cut a fiery babyface promo about how Dasher’s new mask does not represent his legacy, and he will take it in Chicago.

This may have been the shortest full-fledged Chikara event I’ve attended in a while, clocking in just at two hours, and this was with an intermission. It was no less fun and intriguing, with a lot of interesting stories told in the Infinite Gauntlet Match and a strong segment afterward to close it. Chikara doesn’t hold their next Wrestle Factory event until September, as after their Aniversario weekend in White Oaks, PA and Chicago, they have half a dozen spot shows in conjunction with minor league baseball games (one of which will be in Trenton!), as well as a chairty show in June at a Philadelphia brewery near Callowhill). I do have some other big wrestling plans in June and July though.

#Wrestling #chikara pro #ig2019 #Infinite Gauntlet

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seniorbrief · 6 years ago

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18 Funny Christmas Jokes for the Merriest Holiday

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

The holiday season officially starts on the last Friday of November, when the first shopper is trampled at Walmart. But the holidays really begin on December 26, the day after last year’s Christmas, when your child formulated a gift demands wish list in preparation for the next haul.

For example, one seven-year-old girl wrote this list, to which her dad added his thoughts.

• “Black, light blue, green, purple, and pink North Faces.” Five North Face jackets at 100 bucks each? Dream smaller. That is apparel meant for serious outdoorsmen who dangle from belayed ropes on the south face of K2. The outdoorsiest we get is when we roll down the window at the Wendy’s drive-through.

• “A new radio.” Done. I’ll throw in my old Betamax collection as a stocking stuffer.

• “$1,000.” You want cash? Clear the spiders out of the attic. I’ll give you three bucks for it.

• “A light-up Razor scooter that is the color blue.” “Dad, for Christmas, can I get hit by a car?”

• “A new canape that glows up.” So, like, a glowing miniature crab cake with a toothpick in it? I could maybe do that.

• “A pet puppy border collie with a peace sign coller and a leash.” Do you see any borders in this house that need patrolling, apart from the bathroom door when Daddy is having his alone time? No.

• “A black rist bange.” I don’t know what this is, but done. —Drew Magary, from deadspin.com

Of course, gift giving may not be everyone’s strong suit.

One year, my father gave Mom a DVD. In and of itself it wasn’t a bad gift, except a) it was a rental, and b) we didn’t own a DVD player. —Amy Marshall Hodges, Canton, Michigan

Santa’s a pro, which is why kids bypass parents and appeal to him:

• “Dear Santa, Please text my dad. He has my whole list.”

• “Dear Santa, Sorry for what I did in the past, and thank you for the Christmas letter—I love it. But what I want for Christmas is $53 billion dollars.”

• “Dear Santa, How are you? I’m good. Here is what I want for Christmas: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0032HF60M/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1410271945&sr=8-1” —Sources: wgna.com and someecards.com

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

What happens when kids’ letters arrive at the North Pole? Does Kringle and Co. sell the data to online marketers? We read the fine print on Santa’s website:

• Santa’s Privacy Policy: At Santa’s Workshop, your privacy is important to us. What follows is an explanation of how we collect and safeguard your personal information.

• Why Do We Need This Information? Santa Claus requires your information in order to compile his annual list of who is Naughty and who is Nice and to ensure accuracy when he checks it twice.

• What Information Do We Collect? We obtain information from the unsolicited letters sent to Santa by children all over the world listing specific items they would like to receive for Christmas. Often these letters convey additional information, such as which of their siblings are doodyheads. The letters also provide another important piece of information—fingerprints. We run these through databases maintained by the FBI, CIA, NSA, Interpol, MI6, and the Mossad. If we find a match, it goes straight on the Naughty List.

• What Do We Do with the Information We Collect? Sharing is one of the joys of Christmas. For this reason, we share your personal information with unaffiliated third parties: the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Hanukkah Harry. —Laurence Hughes, from McSweeney’s Internet Tendency

The gift list is done, and there’s a nip in the air—time to get your gaudy on!

My daughter and I took the long route through the neighborhood to admire the Christmas decorations. One yard contained a trove of lights, ornaments, elves, carolers, trimmings … in short, it was a mess. My daughter summed it up perfectly when she announced, “It looks like Christmas threw up.” —Cecille Hansen, Seattle, Washington

Do you hear what I hear? That’s right; music is filling the air! Have you downloaded the latest holiday album? It had them boogying in the streets of Bethlehem centuries ago!

The Little Drummer Boy’s Greatest Hits: Includes the songs “Pum Pum Pum Pum,” “Rum Pum Pum,” “Ba Rum Pum Pum,” “Rum Pum Pum Ba Rum Pum Pum,” and special bonus track “Pum Pum Pum, Ba Rum Pum Pum.” —Source: someecards.com

Hope you like schmaltzy, sentimental holiday movies because that’s what will be playing on cable 24/7 for the entire month. In case you’ve forgotten these films you’ve seen only 47 times, some brief reviews:

• How the Grinch Stole Christmas: “Crimes against Who-manity”

• A Christmas Carol: “Bob, Marley”

• Elf: “A Christmas Ferrell” —Source: fwfr.com

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

Next, the tree. Note: The real trick isn’t picking the right pine. It’s getting it inside your home. But with our 15-point plan, you’ll be trimming in no time.

1) Cut the cords that bind the tree to the roof of your car. Allow them to snap back and strike you in the eye.

2) Curse.

3) Slowly pull the tree toward you.

4) Wobble under its weight for a few seconds, then fall down.

5) Curse.

6) Stand up and notice the fresh scratches in the roof of your car.

7) Curse.

8) Drag the tree to your front door. Spend 15 minutes figuring out how to open the door while simultaneously getting the tree through it.

9) Drag the tree away from the door so that you can enter with the tree facing in the right direction.

10) Once inside, fill the tree stand with water.

11) Knock all the water out of the tree stand because you forgot to wait to fill the tree stand until after putting the tree in it.

12) Curse.

13) Your tree should now be in the stand. Notice the fallen needles that have reduced your tree to half the size it was when you bought it.

14) Down seven cups of eggnog to settle your nerves.

15) Slur your curses.

You’re not home free yet. Much more can go wrong!

Securing Christmas lights to the tree can be a production. One year, when we finally stood back and flicked on the light switch, I noticed that a branch obscured our prized angel ornament. I grabbed the pruning shears, mounted a stool, and snipped once, and the lights went out. My husband quietly said, “You don’t have your glasses on, do you?”—Lynn Kitchen, Parksville, British Columbia

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

Your Christmas tree has practically become a member of the family: The needy, spoiled, flamboyant side that knows when it’s time to go:

“All that time spent selecting and decorating, and a week after [Christmas], you see the tree by the side of the road, like a mob hit. A car slows down, a door opens, and a tree rolls out.” —Jerry Seinfeld

Let’s relax and read Christmas cards! Far more than just holiday greetings, they allow you to finally see what your accountant’s family looks like.

We once received a card with a photograph of a family in costumes and masks. No name, no text, no return address. We never did figure out who sent it.—Glynis Buschmann, Yuba City, California

Would you like to learn how to write a boastful, overly intimate holiday newsletter? Our indispensable how-to guide can help, illustrated with real quotes.

• Open strong with a passive-aggressive attack on a loved one: “[This year is] barreling to a close as Deborah spends yet another Saturday at the wine shop.”

• Brag about any new job developments—especially if you don’t deserve them: “I got promoted this year to VP … shows how little they really know about my past!!!”

• Be creative! Even good news can be delivered so the reader cringes: “[My wife has] felt almost every negative feeling you can have during a pregnancy—nausea, fatigue, rashes, arthritis, sciatic nerve pain, hip pains, and strong emotional conditions.”

• If you want to cement your status as least favorite distant cousins, just write the most dreaded words in the English language: “We thought it would be cool if we shared what’s going on as a PowerPoint presentation.” —Sources: gawker.com, worstchristmasletters.blogspot.com, Brandon Specktor

There are those who live by the credo that it is better to give than to receive. These people are, of course, fools. Still, without them, we wouldn’t get as many presents. An ad spotted in a newspaper:

“Congratulations George B. for pleasing 15 women for an entire day! We were all exhausted and very satisfied.”

The next day’s ad: “Our sincere apology to George B. Our intentions were to thank him for a generous holiday shopping trip, which he arranged. Any inappropriate innuendos were unintentional.” —Source: clamorly.com

Nishant Choksi for Reader’s Digest

Wait, we all know that presents are not what Christmas is all about. (Actually, they are. But for argument’s sake, let’s pretend they’re not.) Let us pause while these children remind us about the story of Christmas:

What animals were there when baby Jesus was born?

“There was a donkey, a sheep, and a cow there as well as Mary and Joseph. It sounds quite crowded.” Hannah, age seven

What gifts did the three wise men bring?

“They brought Jesus presents of gold, frankincense, smurr, and silver. But I think he would have preferred wrestling toys.” Jay, age five —From the Daily Mail

OK, enough pretending. Give us the presents already!

Scene: Christmas morning, and I’m opening my gifts.

Dad: “Open that one next, sweetie.”

(He points to a box, which I open. Inside is one of those obnoxious singing-and-dancing robot Christmas trees. I’m a bit shocked, as I had pointed out how much I hate these things when we went shopping the week before.)

Me: “Uh, weren’t you listening when I said I thought these were the most annoying things ever?”

Dad: “I know, I know. But … open that one next.” (This time he points to a long, heavy package. I open it up to reveal a sledgehammer.)

Me: “Is this for what I think it’s for?”

Dad: “And you thought I wasn’t paying attention!”

From notalwaysrelated.com

Even the family pet takes part.

My First Toy

My first toy

Has wood for me to claw

My first toy

Has string for me to bite

My first toy

Has a hole for me to hide in

My first toy

Is called, “Oh, dear God, no!

My guitar!”

My first toy

Is the best toy of them all.

—Francesco Marciulano, from the book I Knead My Mommy, And Other Poems by Kittens (Chronicle Books)

The gifts are opened, the eggnog consumed, and your kid has begun a demands wish list for next year. If you’re feeling woozy, it may be because you’ve contracted at least one of these seasonal maladies:

• Pay Saks Disease: A mania for buying gifts and abusing credit lines, followed by a compulsive urge to carry ten shopping bags at once.

• Seasonal Affection Disorder (SAD): An exaggerated emotional response (typically shrieking and air-kissing) triggered by seeing insignificant acquaintances at annual parties.

• Gift-aphasia: Loss of memory that causes the accidental recycling of gifts back to the same people who gave them to you last year.

—Bob Morris, from New York Observer

Original Source -> 18 Funny Christmas Jokes for the Merriest Holiday

source https://www.seniorbrief.com/18-funny-christmas-jokes-for-the-merriest-holiday/

#seniorbrief #seniors

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flauntpage · 7 years ago

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Golden State InfoWarriors: Among The Conspiracy Theorists At Oracle Arena

Conspiracy.

You'd think that a fan-base with a barely two-year-old NBA championship to its name, a bevy of superstars and a commanding series lead coming into the game wouldn't feel victimized.

But goodness me, I heard that word a lot around the Bay Area in the days before the NBA Finals came back to Oakland on Monday night. Conspiracy. Rigging. Money trumping everything. The innocent Bay, unspoiled by cynicism or avarice and blessedly untouched by the disgusting hand of the oligarchs of the world, was sure that their Warriors were going to lose Game 5. The global forces of capital demanded another game, and another game's worth of television revenues. It was the blameless, hard-working Warriors, like Steve Kerr (averaging a salary of $5 million a year) and Kevin Durant (guaranteed more than $54,000,000 between this year and next year), who would pay the price.

This was the hum I heard in the Stella Artois club at Oracle Arena, where people were poured $13 Bud Lites and were charged $120 for a jersey. The conversation in the air was one of fear, but not the usual "man we're gonna get roughed up by the refs" fear of a team that did not want to slog through another series against LeBron James. Rich, powerful men were convinced that they were about to be robbed. This was chili-tilted, Alex Jones-level muttering, a fan base humming with paranoia about—if stopping just short of accusing—the globalists cruelly using their influence to change the fate of the $1.6 billion Golden State Warriors, who make around $168 million a year. Or at least push the series to a sixth game, anyway.

Moneyballs

It's time for some game theory.

My friend Colin is a ticket hound, and regularly gets into games for a few hundred dollars that would usually cost thousands. He does this by gaming the system using a series of apps to play the same digital mind-games that touts play with fans. As he'd told me many times before, the system usually worked on the prospect of driving up pricing right until tip-off. Usually, the ticket hoarders drive up their prices to varying levels of obscenity—over $2,000 for one lower-level seat where you can vaguely make out an ass, but not a specific ass, up to $5,432 (which I heard referred to as "a hell of a deal) for a courtside club seat near the hoop, where you could specifically identify any number of sports-asses, but not really see the game so well.

The bottom line, I quickly understood, was that I would need to put aside my preconceived sense of the value of a sports ticket. It is obscene, almost insulting to the suffering communities of the Bay Area that aren't San Francisco, just to see these numbers discussed. It is easy to imagine a way this could all be a lot less gross; there are an infinite number of better uses for Ticketmaster gouge-fees than being funneled back into the Ticketmaster machine, and the Warriors have a great deal more leverage on this than they appear willing to use. Anyway, the conversation among the people who had been gouged on those fees for this game was about referee rigging.

Would you pay $10,000 for a chance to sit near motivational speaker Tony Robbins? Photo by Kelley L Cox-USA TODAY Sports

The Uber For Touting

Usually, if you watch the right apps, you can see the moment when ticket-holders start shitting their pants. Sometime just before the game, people that bought tickets in advance with the intention of making a profit will realize that they are screwed. Prices are meant to drop, but they didn't on Monday.

Before the game, Colin showed me Row 10, eight rows behind me, at $3,400 a seat with taxes and fees. That was more than I'd paid; the seat directly in front of me was selling, or not selling, for $5,102.50. My favorite, and my dude if you are reading this I hope you're a season ticket holder doing Tout Irony, was by the 115 section corner on the Warriors' side, which listed $10,800 for a couple of seats. God bless this hopeful seller. This was less than a pair of $9,000 on-the-floor "VIP" seats, which offered a view both of the game and of Chris Rock and other celebrities checking their phones.

At 5:30 PM PT, there were still lots of expensive seats available.

At 6 p.m. I was ready for some football—"uh, this is basketball," the man in front of me told me sternly when I made this joke out loud—and tickets were either withdrawn, unsold, or left at the same price. Just before tipoff a lucky buyer could have gotten a steal (?) of a deal on a $3,965 front-row dead center Cavs-side ticket, or scored one for $3,108 for the same on the Warriors' side. The disparity was not an accident; people wanted to be on "the right side" of the arena despite there being precious few Cavaliers fans in the actual house.

I kept watch for the hour or so in which you can still buy tickets through the Gametime app as the game begins, as well as the Warriors' featured "you can upgrade your current seat using our app for $100-$1000 a ticket" app (which allows you to do so from 4PM to 30 minutes after tip-off.) At 15 minutes in there were still at least 25 seats on sale, all of them priced to the purest obscenity. I was delighted to see that the $10k "why am I sitting here" corner seats disappeared around then. I hope they sold to the biggest, dumbest startup idiot alive. I'm not even going to comment on the $22,954 courtside club seat far off in the bottom corner of the Cavs' side.

Prices just kept on rising, with a few disappearing and more appearing, then at about 6:45 PM the wheels came off of the market. Tickets dropped off rapidly, some withdrawn and some sold; you could see as they'd flash yellow if they were sold (which was much rarer), and those were mostly fairly (in context) higher-level 200's seats of people saying "hey, $800 ain't bad to see the Warriors win." I watched as the $5,232 seat quite literally in front of me (102, row 1), the $8,260 corner Courtside Club seat—by the by, the demarcation between courtside and sideline club is different seat and stair color, and you can get drink service—and the $2,238 section 108 (close enough to say with some certainty "that's Steph Curry's ass!" but not the action) seats sat inert. Colin himself remarked that it was weird.

By 7:01 PM all that remained were two staunch, sad seats—lower baseline ($1,127 for a view of some yellow and reddish ants) and $1,400 (217, row 17, a better view, off to the left). They never sold.

At game time, several expensive seats remained unsold. Photo by Cary Edmondson-USA TODAY Sports

Infowarriors

During the game, I went out to grab a beer and was confronted by some sort of touch-screen beer thing. You'd slide a card, you'd choose a beer, and then the thing would dispense the beer. A woman grabbed me by the arm and yelled that I'd "LITERALLY [emphasis hers] ignored the ENTIRE line." The line was long, to be fair, but I had misunderstood the process. The process was that you had to line up behind 50 people in order to get a punch card, in order to buy beers from a totally automated machine.

Take a look y'all:

Look at this crazy beer tech! Photo by author

The people in this line were mumbling about "biased" refs, too. "It's bullshit," said one guy in line at the bar as he gulped down a beer that he'd finish before he got to the machine that would sell him another beer. "They let us get this far so they could make money, now it'll go to Game 7, because they want to make money." I asked how he thought they'd do this, what system was in place, and he looked at me and said "look, man, they've got cameras everywhere. They know when to call shit." I still don't know what this means.

Near my seat I chatted with a guy who'd had season tickets since the 1990's, and who also shared the conspiracy. "Three phantom calls!" he bellowed in the first minute when the Warriors were called for fouls like "he touched him" or "shoe was too squeaky, distraction on the play."

"It's crooked," he grunted at me as the refs failed to call LeBron for the foul of "scoring points on The Warriors."

Of course this isn't unusual in sports, and Warriors fans are no less petty than any team claiming the referee's a wanker, or wants the other side to win. But they were not quite talking about the refs, or not just talking about the refs. They kept saying it was about the NBA wanting to rig this for an extra game. Perhaps it was more that the Warriors kept trying to do flashy triple-passes or were being outshot from three by a percentage of 36.8% to the Cavs' 45.8%. Or maybe a belief somehow persists that the NBA is just hurting for cash, and must conspire to make more. Like all conspiracy theories, the truth said out loud is absurd—the fans I asked said they "beat the shit" out of the Cavs the first three games, but Game 4 was "stolen." This one was "rigged" too. If someone glanced harshly at Steph Curry, someone in our section would cry foul.

When David West and Tristan Thompson got angry after Kyrie Irving yelled (I think) "Westworld fuckin' sucked!" a fight began. The woman behind me, in the same tone that I've heard really nasty shit said, yelled "THEY'RE FUCKIN' ANIMALS," and "OUR BOYS ARE CLASSY."

Snoop Dogg and Stephen A. Smith shake hands prior to Game 5 because sure why not? Photo by Kyle Terada-USA TODAY Sports

Conspiracy or not, the Warriors carried a lead over an exhausted opponent. My nephew and I could see the tiredness in LeBron's eyes—he had conviction, and some evident fury at his team's failures, but he mostly skipped the Warriors' truculent, endless complaining. The Warriors played whimsical and fancified at times; they seemed almost to be having too much fun.

Yet people kept saying there was a conspiracy. "Refs are in the pocket of the NBA" came from the top of the stands. "It's fuckin'RIGGED," they yelled at every foul, even with a 10-point lead and the Cavaliers approaching exhaustion. Whenever they missed a shot, a man in his late fifties, on his own, would throw the bird and yell "FUCK YOU LEBRON" at the Cavs bench. No matter the Warriors lead, there remained a cacophony of queasy dipshittery.

Yet it really was a great game. Both teams played all out until the end, but the dominance the Warriors hold over the NBA is brutal and stunning to behold. It's simple and stunning how powerless every opponent was when it came to preventing Durant from doing what he wanted; Curry's speed and vision seemed supernatural. If there was coaching happening on either side, I didn't see it. I just saw two teams locked in a game that, however imbalanced, was incredibly entertaining.

In those last 58 seconds, I could still hear chatter behind me about how "we're lucky to have won, 'cause the refs wanted seven games. The NBA just wants our money, man." Twenty seconds remained and one guy yelled "FUCK, WHAT WAS THAT?" for some reason. If you were wondering who was booing when Adam Silver was introduced to hand Durant the Bill Russell NBA Finals Most Valuable Player Award, wonder no more.

My brother and his girlfriend later confirmed that things were no different in their seats. People were wailing about the conspiracy against the Warriors despite a dominant performance. "It doesn't matter we're leading, they're just gonna take it from us," with they being the NBA. The Warriors fans—and I suppose I should add that I'm a Warriors fan, and that I live in Oakland—were worse than just sore winners. They were tantrum-throwing children, seething over their expensive toys.

Hearing "NEVERTHELESS, THEY PERSISTED" as the Warriors led by 10 to 14 points was inarguably my second-worst moment of the game. The next was when the announcer said "and thanks to the players of the Cleveland Cavaliers" and the arena erupted in boos. Sure, it's normal sports bullshit, the human nature of us versus them. But after crying that the NBA was beating up your multi-million superteam and then giving Cleveland hell isn't just unsportsmanlike, it just felt pathetic.

It also felt like the Bay, circa now. What happens if the Warriors decline, as they eventually must? Will it be a conspiracy, then? Will it be bad coaching, then? Will Steve Kerr Have To Go despite two championships in three years? There are a lot of wins ahead for this team, but it's hard to imagine that there are enough for the people I saw fuming through this victory. We don't just have a tech bubble. We've got a Warriors bubble. And when it bursts, it'll be painful.

Golden State InfoWarriors: Among The Conspiracy Theorists At Oracle Arena published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

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