#I’ve never paid for a streaming service in my life thank god

[tariah23]

Oh…. Well, it’s over for Crunchyroll I guess

#Crunchyroll #piracy #funimation #money hungry ass streaming service #rambling #I’ve never paid for a streaming service in my life thank god #I appreciated using others accounts but I personally cannot see myself paying this much for a service if I had the funds 😭! #get back to pirating kings!!! #anime has always been one of the easiest forms of media to pirate anyway so y’all got this #CR is definitely not worth paying for though #CR is certainly not worth paying this much for even if it’s a yearly one time fee #capitalism #the fact that CR has always had pretty bad quality as a streaming service anyway #it buffers every time you pause or rewind anything

[garciaswebhistory]

Crushed; Reader x Spencer

warnings: mentions of torture, rape, possible death

summary: the one time you take off a case and your boyfriend goes, he ends up as a hostage inside of a violent, religious cult

based around S4, E3 timeline “Minimal Loss”

Vacation time. An unknown concept of a job for an FBI agent, especially a BAU member. Every day, the air was sick with energy and adrenaline as the constant cases flooded in.

Of course, as you looked down at your wrapped up foot that had been itching like crazy for the past five and a half weeks, you realized how boring vacation was. Especially when your boyfriend had gone back to work, even though he hadn’t wanted to. 

But his job needed him and his brain more than you needed him to give you a massage every five minutes and follow you around like a lost puppy.

 Always a conference call, neighborhood serial killer, an issue with the public media, or the occasional terrorist kept everyone on their toes, and it was addicting. How or why would anyone ever want to leave?

Sure, seeing a dead body at least twice a month, or the occasional fear of being taken as a hostage was always there. The fact that your life was more at risk than others, or that it was more common to get shot than not on the daily?

 Again, good reasons. But that was what kept you coming back day after day.

You were 25, having joined the BAU three years ago, and like the adrenaline junkie you were with a thing for men in uniform, you fit right in. Not to mention your team that was more of a family then your biological relatives, and your wonderful boyfriend and now fiancé Spencer Reid.

He was 30, with a baby face, sharp jawline, and curly brown hair. He was a doll baby, sweet and sensitive but could take down someone if he had to. You two were just perfect for each other, and it was obvious to everyone who saw you two in the same room. 

You gravitate towards one another, smiling, winking playfully, giggling, and playing footsies. You two were like small children with one another… best friends and the love of each other’s lives.

Just two nights ago, he had proposed to you after 15 months, 2 weeks, and four days of being together (you knew this thanks to your lover boy computer), so you had given him the obvious answer. 

Some would have said that you were moving too fast, but that was just the life of a federal agent who put their lives on the battlefield for the sake of others on a regular occasion. Never once had you questioned him being your soulmate, and you never would. 

After him being kidnapped and shot multiple times, and you being raped and tortured horribly on separate occasions, life just was too precious for you to beat around the bush. Plus, even 

Rossi said that he knew what a failed relationship looked like, and that failed relationships didn’t cook with one another, draw faces on each other while sleeping, or put their lives at risk for one another. 

Again… soulmates. :)

Maybe that was why you had been so happy when you had taken a pregnancy test just minutes ago and had now found it positive. You ran to the couch, trying your best to ease your broken foot that was so close to healing. 

Grabbing your phone, you opened it to dial your boyfriend’s number when the tv in front of you caught your attention. You always kept the News on when Spencer was gone, fearing you’d miss something. Plus the missing people reports and traffic jams in your city were no news to you.

“Here I am, right outside of an underground facility in La Plata County, Colorado that is said to be hospitalizing a cult. Among the cult are women, children, and three child services agents held hostage who went in earlier to do a wellness check. Federal units are doing their best to get everyone out safely but so far the progress has been minimal. I will have more on this story as we continue this.”

You stopped cold, remembering JJ give the evaluation of the case to everyone just hours before you had to say goodbye to the team. It was a call from a teen girl about underage marriages and Cyrus, the cult leader, taking advantage of his young, female followers. The cult was on a ranch, and was its own society basically. 

You had wanted to go, but had been told to stay home by everyone on the team. Spencer had wanted to stay with you, but he was a valuable part of the plan. He was to go with Pretniss and a real child services agent to disguise themselves and not cause any panic. But now… He was a hostage.

You dialed Garcia’s phone, knowing that she would be the one most likely to have their phone and not be preoccupied, although that was already a long stretch. Fortunately though, you remembered that you were Garcia’s third favorite person after her boyfriend and Morgan. 

“Thank you for calling Fairy Godmother and Gizmos, your fairy godmother speaking.” She chimed in, sounding stressed but like she was trying to put on a brave face. “Hey, it’s Y/n. I’m sorry to call like this but I need to know what’s going on.”

You could head typing on her keyboard before she cleared her throat. “Alrighty, here’s what we know but it’s not much. Reid and Prentiss went in with another agent to check out the call and then there was a raid we weren’t aware of. Right now, they don’t have any reason to hurt any of them. I- What? Oh god, oh god.”

You suddenly became terrified, screaming into the cell phone as your eyes laid glued onto the tv screen. “Garcia? What? What is it?” You asked as you heard her heavy breathing on the other side. “Hotch gave me access to their radio so I can listen in, and… they just… Oh my god.” You hated the pause, wanting to both hug and kill her in that moment.

“One of the agents got hit in the raid, but they’re not saying which one. Hold on, I’ll forward you to Hotch.” You heard her clicking her keyboard even more. “Oh and Y/n? Whenever you get in touch with our boyfriend, tell him I’m going to kill him if he doesn’t come back in one piece.” 

“Not if I do it first.” You heard Garcia chuckle at your response, but you didn’t feel like smiling even though she was trying hard. Spencer was in danger. You stayed on the phone until you heard Rossi’s deep tone.

“Hello? Agent Rossi.” He picked up on Hotch’s phone, and for a second you thought Hotch was in trouble too. “Rossi! I… I need you to tell me what’s going on. The news isn’t giving me anything and I… I don’t know what to do. I knew I should have come.” You began crying, letting the hormones control you.

“Hey, listen to me. Reid needs you strong. We all do. Reid is in there, but we have no reason to think he’s been injured.” He tried to explain, but it didn’t help the tears streaming down your face. “What about Cyrus? He said one of them got hit.” You heard a sigh from Rossi and began crying even more.

“Yes, the agent Pretniss and Reid went in with died. But it wasn’t the cult’s doing. I don’t think they’re going to hurt him.” Rossi tried to make you feel better, and he did, but it only gave you more questions.

“What do they want with them?” You asked as Rossi sighed. You could tell he was just at a loss like you were. “If we get the women, children and our agents out, Cyrus knows that we will have no reason to hold back. He has to keep them alive or else he’s as good as dead.” 

“Just… bring him home Rossi. All of you better be at the agency tomorrow at 7 on the dot. Please. I’ll call you back if I hear something happens.” You began to hang up before you heard Rossi chuckle lightly. “Yes mam.”

You sighed in relief as you grabbed a pillow and hugged it against your body, squeezing it tightly. All the times you had taken Spencer for granted, telling him to go to work and not waste his time with you. 

Now, all you wanted was to be in his arms. You wanted to comb through his hair with your fingers and give him a massage for once. Did he know how much you loved him? Did he know how obsessed you were with him? How you would trade places with him right now without a second thought. 

God, you should have gone. Fuck your bad foot, you could stand there and watch. You could watch a building from a safe distance like all of them were doing. You could even go in, and maybe they would take it easy on you and not suspect anything if they saw you were injured.

Anything was better than having your one and only in a building of armed, mentally disordered people with secrets and something to die for. You gripped the pillow tighter, and began silently crying again. You just wanted him there. Was that too much to ask?

Finally, the News updated. “Live from the source. After speaking with the federal agents, it is known that one of the two alive hostages right now is an FBI agent. I am looking right now at the ranch, which is circled with SWAT vehicles. We can only hope that this won’t be the bloody battle it’s leading up to.”

You froze, dropping the remote and watching the back of it snap off, sending the two batteries rolling across the floor in opposite directions. Your immediate reaction was the call Rossi, and with your hand shaking, that’s exactly what you did. 

“We saw Y/n, we saw. I don’t know how they knew that but it’s… it’s not good.” Rossi confessed. losing your attention for a minute. “H- Is he going to die? Are they going to kill him? Rossi answer me!” You yelled into the phone, hearing muffled yelling but no answer.

“I’ve got to go Y/n. I’m sorry. I’ll call you back when any of us can talk.” And he hung up on you, leaving you feeling empty and alone on the couch that you had once sat on with Spencer, in the apartment you both paid for. You glanced at your stomach and sighed, putting your hand on it.

It looked normal now, but in just weeks it would become obvious. When would you take off work? When would you tell the team? Who would be the godfather and mother? When would you tell Spencer? Would you ever even be able to tell Spencer?

No. You slapped your hand. You can’t think like that. You have to be strong. For Spencer. For yourself. For everyone.

You held your legs to your chest and put your phone down, staring at the tv and then at your phone. Please give me an update. Please give me something. 

Hours passed, and although the News did hourly updates, the only change was that it was now nighttime. Finally, you picked up your phone and dialed JJ, knowing she’d be updated on everything and possibly free.

“Y/n? How are you holding up?” She asked, and you again were reminded why JJ was the BAU’s voice to the public. Her soft voice could almost convince you that your boyfriend and team’s life wasn’t at risk.

“Nobody is answering my calls and I’m so scared JJ. I… Just tell me straight. Please.” You explained as you heard her sigh on the other end. “Reid and Pretniss were questioned and Pretniss confessed that she was the FBI agent. She got beat up pretty bad.”

You felt relieved, but also guilty for feeling such. Poor Emily had confessed to save your boyfriend from a painful fate, and you would remember to give her a nice gift if and when she came back. 

“They gave us almost half of their people, and we don’t know why. Right now, we think they’re going to commit mass suicide. There’s no evidence that they’re going to hurt Reid. Just… Just relax.” JJ tried to comfort you, but you still felt uneasy. 

“I just… I…” You stared at the tv as they were doing another hourly update. It looked like nothing had changed. That was, until a large light hit your tv. You put on your glasses with regret of taking your contacts out, and then stared at the tv screen in horror.

A large explosion replaced where the church had sat, and it took a moment to register that the explosion had been the mass suicide JJ had just told you about. “Oh my god!!” You screamed, dropping your phone as you raised your hands to your mouth.

“Y/n? Y/n? Answer me!” You heard the phone click as JJ hung up, but you didn’t care. You stared at the tv, and couldn’t help but feel your heart drop. Spencer was inside. Pretniss was inside. JJ would have told you if either of them had come out. He would have called you surely.

“N-No.” You stuttered, unable to grasp the concept that he was gone. He was hurt. He was… dead. No… You were about to cry out, but your phone began buzzing, snapping you out of it.

You grasped it slowly and brought it to your ear with your shaking hand. “Hello?” You spoke, feeling your voice quiver from the sobs threatening to come out. “Y/n? It’s Hotch.” You nodded, realizing the let down when you realized it wasn’t Reid, but your boss.

“Everyone is okay. I just called to tell you that.” You froze, just holding the phone without noticing the man on the other line trying to get your attention. “What time are you getting to the airport?” You asked, already getting your shoes on. 

“Six thirty, why?” Hotch asked, but you had already hung up. You fixed your hair, put in your contacts, and grabbed the keys, ready to go.

The car ride to the airport was long, but the wait inside the building was even longer. Every minute felt like an hour, and every brown-haired man in the building looked like Spencer from afar. You just needed to see him. You wanted to see him.

You would have called him or texted him, but you now knew he was on a plane, and you just had to wait.

Finally, though, six-thirty came, and you prayed that Hotch would stick to his word like every other time. You waited at the gate, and after checking it three times in five minutes, you knew you just had to play the waiting game of misery. Around you, airport security and employees gave you pitiful glances as you paced, sniffled, and tried to hold yourself together.

Slowly though, you began to sink into your seat and drift off into a light sleep, only to be awakened by your boyfriend. “Hey Baby.” You murmured before closing your eyes again.

Wait.

“Oh my God, Spencer!” You jumped up and wrapped your arms around him, dangling like the shorty you were. “I… Oh my… I hate you so much.” Spencer laughed lightly, feeling your grip around him tightly. “I… I thought you died. I thought… I’d never see you again.” You began crying, finally letting all your emotions resurface. You felt his grip on you tighten as he lowered you back to your feet.

“You were inside and then I saw the bomb and I-” The tears kept you from talking as you buried your face into his chest. “I hate you so much.” You whispered, holding onto his shirt tightly. “Don’t ever leave me again. We need you here.” You looked up at him as he stared at you with confusion. “We?” 

You patted your stomach and grinned slyly. “I-I’m pregnant.” You confessed, watching his eyes light up with happiness and surprise. “Y-You’re kidding. That’s… Oh my god!” He looked overjoyed, lifting you up by the waist and twirling you around.

“I’m going to be a Dad!” He shouted, the few other people around the terminal giving applause. “Oh my gosh, there’s so much to do. So much to buy. So many people to tell. I have to read all those parenting books!” Spencer began to pace around before you brought him back to reality with a hug. “Just kiss me to start.”

#spencer x oc #spencer x y/n #spencer x reader #spencer x you #reader x spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #minimal loss #criminal minds x reader #x reader

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Beauty Chooses II-Chapter 7

                           All my thanks to @statell​ for your unending help

Previous chapters on AO3 Ch-1  Ch-2  Ch-3  Ch-4  Ch-5  Ch-6

Chapter Seven- Culloden Moor 

I thought Murtagh had gone to bed, but here he was again kneeling in front of me. I saw a fear in his eyes I had never seen before. He took my hand and my tears poured down my face not wanting to hear what he came to tell me. No! He will be home any minute, I screamed in my head.

“Lass, it’s time to discuss a probable explanation for Jamie’s absence. Ye need to be strong like never before, ye ken?”

I saw him through watery eyes and shook my head side to side. In my head, I was screaming at him to shut his mouth, but I knew I could not stop this insanity, whatever it was.

“It’s likely Jamie has been press-ganged into service for Prince Charles. They will secure his service with threats against you and Faith. He will be convinced he must serve and lead men into battle or ye and Faith will be killed.”

I couldn’t breathe suddenly, and my hands flew to my back reaching for my corset laces. I was panicked and feeling the dizziness of oxygen depletion. Murtagh pulled my jacket off and quickly pulled my laces enough for a deep breath. I held my skirts to my face and sobbed like I would die from this broken heart. When I could steady myself, I looked up at Murtagh.

”If Jamie fights on Culloden Moore he will be killed, and we will be next.”

“I believe Jamie will find a way to escape and we have to be ready to disappear with him. We can hide out until a ship will have us. Don’t lose faith in Jamie lass, he will find his way back, and alive.”

Murtagh went to bed and I stayed in the parlor all night, waiting for Jamie to return, waiting for my heart to start again, waiting for an inkling of hope all was not lost. I did not see my bedroom for three days because I was waiting for Jamie. I didn’t eat or speak to anyone other than Faith. On the third day, my lack of sleep drove my sanity away. I saw Jamie out the windows, working or feeding horses. I jumped up and down, so happy to see him safe. Running outside I would not be able to find him, and my despair would return. During dinner the third night, I saw Jamie walk down the hall and screamed with joy running after him. When he couldn’t be found I crumpled into the wall and fell to the floor. I remember nothing after that except Faith nursing at my breast and then darkness.

I woke up terribly stiff during the night and was shocked to see Murtagh in the corner chair, elbows on knees, staring at the ground. He looked so sad.

“Murtagh?”

“Thank Christ, yer awake lass. I need to ask ye, please find yer strength. Yer family needs ye desperately now, please don’t go back into yer long sleep.”

“How long have I slept?”

“two days Claire.”

“Dear God, what’s happened in those two days? Murtagh, I’m so sorry I left you holding down the house. Are the animals okay? Misses Crook and Glavia?”

He nodded yes to all my questions and filled me in on the news of several skirmishes with the British that the Jacobites had won. The Scottish troops were assembled for training and preparation of the coming battle. British troops were massing for the one-sided battle that would bring Scotland to her knees.

“Claire. Do we stay or do we go?”

I looked at him wide-eyed like I had not considered leaving Jamie behind. I couldn’t speak because this reality was outside my ability to endure. Leave him behind. Take his daughter and run away from him.

“I cannot.”

Murtagh told me to think about a plan, we needed a plan, or we would all be killed when the red coats came to wipe-out the families of the traitors. Murtagh left my room and I walked hunched over looking at the ground. I wanted to lay on the floor and just wait for Jamie to come home. But I had to move and save my daughter and two dear friends who trusted me to lead them to safety.

My days were filled with chores and fear. The British had requisitioned a great many resources in Scotland to be used to murder Scottish men fighting for our freedom. They had seized most of the ships that we would need to find passage to America, and the chance to get away became slim to non-existent. On April first I hung my head and cried for Jamie to come home. Seventeen days to escape my love, it’s time to find a way.

Murtagh and I were exhausted trying to fill Jamie’s shoes; when I could no longer stand it, I climbed the hill and found my tree. I sat on the ground and ran my hand over the place I would wake up day after day and Jamie’s smiling face filled my mind. It was transporting. I closed my eyes and let those memories drift through my mind, making me forget he was gone. The dipping temperature woke me hours later and I staggered to my feet feeling my breasts achingly full trying to remember the last time I had nursed Faith. I was running and misjudged the hill, running straight off the edge, and flying through the air before tumbling to the bottom.

“Claire!” Murtagh pulled me up. “I’ve been lookin everywhere for ye lass, are ye alright?”

All I could think of was Faith as I ran to the house and up to the nursery. I came in wide-eyed to see Glavia hold a cup to Faith encouraging her to sip the milk. Misses Crook was behind her with a big encouraging smile.

“What are you doing?”

“Teaching the little beauty to drink from a cup and look at her!”

I felt betrayed and suddenly left out. I had hardly seen my daughter except to nurse her in the past three weeks, and here she was learning to drink without me. Glavia was nothing short of a miracle since the day she delivered my baby. I loved her and knew she meant only the best for Faith, so I kept quiet.

When Faith saw me, she reached out calling, “mama up. ” Glavia held her hands while she took bold steps toward me and I sank down to the floor to witness this miracle. Faith was breathing hard and smiling as she came to me. I held out my hands and caught the second love of my life holding her to me and wishing Jamie was here to see this.

On April 13th, Murtagh again went to the docks and returned with nothing. He was starting to pester me about the plan. It was time to go and I knew it. I couldn’t think with the battle on our heels; I would rather sit in a corner and pray for Jamie’s safety.

On April 17, 1745 I sat on my bed and watched the sun come up through bloodshot eyes. It was almost over and the greatest man I had ever known would raise his sword against the muskets, carbines, pistols, cannons, and 35-inch swords of the British army who will outnumber the Highlanders four to one. I sobbed and hugged Jamie in my head. Trying to say everything I thought I had a lifetime to say. Please hear me Jamie. I love you, until the end of time, wait for me in heaven, feel my love.

Jamie was in battle uniform in the quiet of the sunrise. He knew the battle would be lost today and his worry over Claire and Faith nearly crippled him. He had tried to escape twice and paid dire consequences at the wrong end of the whip. He pulled Claire into his mind and when he saw her wide golden eyes and beautiful face, it broke him. He walked the field they were camped in trying to stay ahead of the guards posted to him day and night. He just wanted to be alone with the Sassenach and Faith one last time.

In his mind, he touched her cheek. I hope yer on a fast ship to America my love, far away from the devastation to come. I hope ye remember me always. The man who loved ye like ye were the sunrise itself. It has been this lad’s honor to love ye and I humbly thank ye lass.

All day, Murtagh and I carried supplies high into the hills where we would hide in a secret cave barely big enough for one person. On my third climb, I fought my skirts and strangulating corset, finally throwing my armload to the ground I walked back to the house.

“Misses Crook! Kindly assist me with this hateful corset.”

I climbed into the attic with Misses Crook looking like I was the worst sinner she had ever seen. To be walking around the house without my corset was just not done. I was pleasantly surprised I was not panting for air from my efforts and set about looking for clothing I could wear. When I emerged, I wore breeks, a linen shirt, boots and a hat with my hair stuffed neatly inside. The next ten trips up to the cave that day were far easier.

I had a steady stream of tears on my cheeks throughout the day. I was so tired I could not move anymore. The battle was over and Jamie was dead, my dreams were dead, my world was dead, and this century was dead to me. We hunkered down in the cave and slept fitfully all night wondering if Lallybroch was being raided and if we would ever see it again.

The next day I passed out salted fish and jerky to everyone except Faith who was nursed as always. I told everyone we were leaving this place, today. Gone were my refined manners and speech, I addressed them like a New Yorker, and I was taking them home to my century. One way or another.

I crept into the barn after hiding to watch the house for ten minutes. I saddled Brimstone quickly with shaking hands and held my breath. I led her quickly out into the long grass and then mounted and galloped into the woods. I told her how sorry I was, but we needed speed and urged her to keep running. When I tied her to a tree at the bottom of the gorge, I heard thunder above my head and a second later, rain. It came down in buckets soaking me through. I held my ears from the loud claps of thunder and sat on a large rock to wait the storm out, never so defeated in my life.

I stared at the rocks, as far as my eyes could see. Normal, round, ugly rocks that held no magic to get us to safety. I continued to stare at them and saw the pounding rain hit them with force. Pieces of sand and dirt were knocked away and slowly the outer crust of dirt melted away by the pounding rain to reveal a beautiful, brilliant blue! I screamed and jumped up to lift the rock into my sack, smiling ear to ear.

There were more and more pieces revealed by this miracle rain and I gathered them all into my sack and tied it my saddle. If the magic was still there, we would escape sure death today. I galloped home with renewed hope slowing to a quiet gate as I approached the estate. The rain continued and the house was crawling with redcoats.

I pulled the tack off Brimstone and told her to go home, then I ran for the big hill to join my family and get us to a safer time. I saw several redcoats in the hills above Lallybroch and luckily avoided being seen. As I approached the cave my heart nearly stopped when I saw Murtagh, Misses Crook, Glavia, and my darling Faith, being pushed out of the cave, the swords of two British soldiers were at their backs.

I was breathing so hard I thought I might pass out, so I sat low behind a tree and calmed my breathing. I prayed for the strength to do this and prayed to Jamie to help me know when to run to my family. The minutes were like hours as I watched the sadistic soldiers torture Murtagh and leer at Glavia. She was so scared and my heart broke for her. There was nowhere for the group to run as the soldiers were in front of the path that led down the hill, they were captives awaiting execution.

When the soldiers huddled to discuss the murder and rape of Glavia, I made a run for my “family” holding my finger to my lips to shush them all. I held out my hands instructing us all to join hands tightly, and not to let go under any circumstance. I didn’t bother with whispering anymore. I reached into the sack and pulled out the biggest blue stone yelling at them not to let go!

Two muskets were raised and aimed at my head and the balls were fired into thin air, we had vanished leaving the soldiers staring ahead, mute with shock. I clung to Glavia and Murtagh and felt the whole group jettison away from this time. I concentrated on modern Scotland and Lallybroch, envisioning how it was when I left.

When I became aware of the others again, we were standing in front of Lallybroch on a warm sunny day. I pulled Faith into my arms and kissed her awake. My smile was so big it hurt until I saw the terrified faces of Murtagh, Glavia, and Misses Crook. The women were crying uncontrollably and clinging to each other. I put my arms around them and told them we were alright.

“We made it! I’m sure of it. Please trust me, it was the only way to save all of you. We are at Lallybroch, two-hundred and fifty years in the future. I am a time traveler, and this is my time. I know it’s a lot to take in, but we would have died horrible deaths at the hands of those soldiers. This was the only way. I’m sorry it was such a shock. I am not happy about being here, but you are all alive and hopefully, I’ll get you back to your time, when it’s safer.”

The house looked incredible as we walked toward it. It shined with new windows and paint, fences repaired and whitewashed, and a garden! I wondered if I brought us to the wrong time and we were about to walk into someone’s home. My poor startled friends were huddled together, scared shitless, and looking suspiciously at me.

“I’m so sorry, please forgive me for not telling you before we made the jump. There just wasn’t time. Please, don’t be afraid. This is safest place you could hope to be. I don’t remember the house looking this way so I’m going in first to make sure it’s empty. I gave the estate to my best friend before I went through the stones to stay in your century with Jamie.” Blank, fearful faces looked at me. “It’s a very long story and I will tell you everything in due time.”

I knocked on the kitchen door and said hello! Nothing. The door was locked so I walked around the house counting to the third window. I reached high and felt a key. Thank you Joe, I thought, for always being consistent.

I returned to the group huddled at the front of the door and held them back as I unlocked the door, telling them I would check the house and then let them in. The kitchen was completely updated and smelled like fresh paint. It was so lovely. I crept through the room and noticed the fire pit and cauldron had been replaced with a contemporary stove. When I looked up, I stopped dead in my tracks.

On the counter was a cell phone plugged into the wall for a continuous charge. I picked it up with shaking hands and pushed buttons until it lit up. The phone app was on and a phone number had been punched in. I hit the call button and held my breath. I knew the line connected to someone and my heart pounded waiting for a hello.

“Pet.”

When I heard his voice the last two months of worry and loneliness crashed down on my head and I held on to a cabinet to keep from falling.

“Joe!” I wept, uncontrollably. The millions of minutes I held back my emotion for the good of the group came bursting forward like a damn broke and I sobbed his name over and over again.

“I am close, and I am coming pet. Please be there. Please.”

The line went dead and I staggered to the door to let everyone in. I was holding a paper towel under my nose as Misses Crook pinched it trying to understand what it was. I took Faith from Glavia and we walked through the house that had been repaired, retrofitted for electricity and plumbing, and furnished. Each bedroom had a bed, dresser, lights, and other assorted furniture. I avoided Jamie’s room knowing I would lose it completely, wanting to spare Faith that scary sight. Joe had thought of everything including a crib for Faith and an extra bed in the nursery for Glavia. When I left him almost four-million dollars it was intended for his education not restoring Lallybroch. Right now, I couldn't be happier.

It was overwhelming to us all and we gathered in the kitchen so I could show them some of the benefits of the twentieth century. I could see they were starting to withdraw from the shock of being transported to another time where their house still existed. Wait for a plane to fly overhead, I thought.

“I’m sorry you all got the fright of your life, truly sorry.” I looked at Murtagh who was white-faced and quiet. “We are safe here. Many years in the future. No wars, no clans, and … no Lairds. I lost my control at that point and my tears flowed for several minutes.

“But! Here are some nice things you can enjoy while you are at this Lallybroch..” I opened the door to the refrigerator; it was well stocked with drinks in cans, including beer, but no food. The freezer was stuffed with dinners, side dishes, minute meals, and everything else Joe could get into it. I pulled Misses Crooks hand to the frig and put her hand on the cold cans. She gasped and pulled her hand away holding it close to her body with wide eyes. I turned on one of the burners and held Glavia's hand above it until she snatched it back feeling the heat with no fire.

I pulled a beer out for Murtagh and watched his eyes light up when he drank it down. I pulled juice out for Misses Crook and Glavia and watched their surprise when they tasted the liquid. I tipped a juice to Faith’s lips and she took a tentative taste scrunching up her face at the bold flavor. Her little arms reached for the can every time she swallowed and the laughter from that was our first relief from the stressful shock.

The next modern marvel was the bathroom and the updates were stunning. The house had four bathrooms that I could see and figured another would have been built into the master bedroom making five total. I took a tumbler from a kitchen cabinet and led them all into the downstairs bathroom. First I flushed the toilet causing them all to jump back and gasp. I turned the faucet on and blew them away with the column of water that poured out on my command. Next, I filled the glass to the brim and poured it into the toilet, wadding up some toilet paper and dropping it in before flushing it away.

The confusion on all their faces suggested I oversimplified this particular room. I thought for a minute and announced “the chamber pot” creating nodding heads and affirmative oohs and ahs. They were hustling out of the bathroom when I pulled them back to see one more miracle. I pushed the shower curtain open and turned on the shower with hot water. I pulled Glavia’s hand to the water and she nearly screamed with her shock as the water came out hot. After each person had felt the water, I decided it was time to rest.

Murtagh vanished and I led Glavia and Faith to the nursery where I nursed my daughter and soothed Glavia’s nerves. Faith was out like a light and I kissed Glavia’s hands promising her we would be alright and she would return to her own time. I begged her to lay down while Faith slept and then left her. I walked through the lower level appreciating everything Joe had done to the house. It was spectacular. I threw logs into the fireplace in the parlor and then ran for the ringing phone.

“Joe?”

“So it’s true. You’ve come back. Thank God you’re safe.”

“Baritone!” Are you coming? Please say you’re coming!”

“I am pulling up to the parking garage at the airport as we speak trying to overcome my shock at hearing your voice. Are you alright Claire?”

My chin was quivering so hard I grabbed it to hold it steady. “I lost…and then they were…I found the stones… red coats drew their weapons….found our cave…Jamie died today.” I gripped my stomach and bent over to endure the sobs that came. Baritone kept talking to me about things that were non- threatening. He kept up a steady stream of chatter that finally calmed me down.

The voice changed and it was Joe talking to me in his soothing big brother voice. They were boarding a plane in London for a one and a half hour flight. I gripped the phone like a lifeline and whined myself back into sobbing when Joe had to hang up. The plane was taking off for Scotland. I put the phone on the counter and stared at it. The popping fireplace sounded like home and it calmed me, so I just stood in the kitchen and listened. I realized that this was the hardest day of my life and I was not in my right mind. I walked into the parlor and sat on the couch staring at the fire feeling the tears roll down my cheeks.

Someone was calling my name. Two voices calling me and my eyes flew open looking for Jamie. I ran into the kitchen and right into Joe’s chest feeling his arms come around me and hold me possessively. He didn’t let me go but walked me back to the couch and gently pushed me down. I looked at him and felt my heart in my throat. My friend, my dearest friend was here, holding my hands and smiling.

Baritone kissed my cheek making me look up at his beautiful face. He was even more breathtaking than before and he looked at me with such compassion. My brain must have shut down because all I could do is look from one to the other. When I finally said something it was ridiculous.

“These are lad’s clothes because I had to climb to the cave over and over this morning and my corset was about to kill me.”

Joe nodded his head like he understood completely. “You found the rock pet.”

“In the pouring rain, it melted the dirt and sand from the rocks, and they were bright blue, so I took them all and begged Brimstone to gallop for all she was worth.” Remembering the scene when I arrived at the cave stole my voice again and made my heart pound.

Joe rubbed my arm and spoke in an upbeat tone. “And when you got back you pulled everyone to your own time?”

“I had one chance to get to them and I was so scared. I started a couple of times and then went back behind the tree. The soldiers were going to make Murtagh watch and then kill him too. I just ran for them when the soldiers were distracted. I shouted for everyone to hold hands tightly and not to let go. I saw the rifles pointed at my head and then heard the wind in my ears as we were pulled away.”

“Jesus Pet. That just happened today and look at you holding the world up for your group. You are amazing.”

I looked at Joe and thought, really? I’m amazing even though I feel shattered and small at the moment? Baritone fetched a whiskey bottle and glasses and we all had two shots in front of the fire. Joe never let go of my hands and Baritone did not leave my back. As the whisky warmed me on the insides I started to relax until I heard Faith cry. I ran to the stairs and found Glavia making her way down. Faith held her arms out to me and I hugged her close.

Glavia stood ramrod still when she saw Joe and Baritone. They both stood while I introduced them and urged Glavia to join us for a whisky and talk. The next one to show himself was Murtagh and I was so happy to see him, pouring his drink and introducing everyone. Joe and Baritone were very nice to everyone, but they could not take their eyes off Faith. She was well-rested and full of happy energy when she stood up in my lap. She looked closely at Joe and babbled at him quite insistently pointing her finger at him. We laughed at her antics until she lunged herself at Joe. He caught her easily and let her sit in his lap. It was obvious Joe was not doing what she wanted so she pressed her head against his chest sitting very still.

I watched my darling girl and wondered if she was looking for a voice she knew from some other time. I asked Joe to talk continuously for a few minutes and nodded to Faith. He launched into everything that happened since I walked through the stones. Faith kept her little head pressed to his chest, eyes drooping as she listened. When she was sound asleep Joe just held her sleeping form, and I was loving him for it. Baritone asked if she normally goes to all new people. I explained my theory, she was looking for the voice she heard daily as she grew in my womb. “That must be what he sounded like when we would cuddle in the morning.”

“This is the first time I haven’t been totally pissed off hearing about that because it’s so fascinating.”

Baritone showed bigger changes than Joe. Maybe because I knew him less in the beginning, but he had definitely changed. Confidence had replaced the confused Brainiac, and his body had filled out quite nicely. They were both stunningly handsome, confident in their own skin, and radiated love for each other. I felt the bottom of my stomach fall and my tears gush as I dropped my head and looked at my lap. I cried openly and Joe squeezed my hand encouraging me to let it out.

“Jamie’s dead. They took him a month ago and pressed him to service. He led his men into battle today, at Culloden Moore and he’s bleeding out on the field right now and doesn’t know how much I love him.”

It was the horrifying image in my head, all day, and I spoke of it before I knew what I was doing. I saw Joe reach into his pocket for a small bottle of pills while Baritone filled my glass with a shot of whisky. I picked my glass up, only to have Joe press it back to the table.

“Not so fast pet, we all need a glass so we can toast.”

Joe put something back in his pocket and filled the glasses, then we toasted to our safe landing while the tears continued to run down my cheeks. I noticed Murtagh was watching me and I tried to smile through my watery vision. I looked at him and saw Jamie right next to him smiling at me. He said, “I love ye, I need ye, please help me Sassenach.”

I gasped and shot up from the couch feeling my legs give way and strong arms pulling me up. I was in the dark feeling peaceful when I heard his beautiful voice. He was calling to me, asking for help, saying he didn’t want to leave me. I was face to face with Jamie in the blackness. He told me I was heroic today and he was never so proud. Then he told me that Donus and Brimstone would starve. He asked if I could take them to the new world. “Please Sassenach.” I promised I would. He told me to never return in the light of day, they were waiting for me, but it was safe at night. He touched my face.

“I will hang on until I know yer safe mo chridhe, save the horses.”

I fell into the black velvet and Jamie held my hand for a long time. "Wake Sassenach!" I sat upright on my bed blinking my eyes in the dark. I smelled Jamie and knew he was with me. I felt my way to the bag of stones thinking I would walk over hot coals to save the horses. When I felt two shards, I put them in my palms and closed my eyes concentrating on Lallybroch in 1745.

The wind lifted me and carried me far away very fast setting me down in the field near the house. I stayed low and worked my way to a tree behind the barn, watching. When I started to move to the barn, I heard Jamie’s voice say “wait!” I froze and dropped to the ground. A red coat came out of the house and pulled his horse that was tied in the dooryard. He mounted and rode away. I let out the breath I was holding and continued to watch. My fear was taking over and I shook with it. “Don’t be afraid, take the horses mo chridhe.”

I ran to the barn panting with the effort. I threw their tack on, saddles, pads, and bridles tying the reins in a knot. Then I attached leads to both, pulling them out of their stalls to stand in front of me. I placed a shard in each palm and pressed them against each horse's chest, concentrating on Lallybroch in 2019. I had wrapped the leads around my waist so they would not separate from me and quickly pulled the ropes away and led them to the barn. We were back and it was daylight. I carried buckets to an outside spigot and hauled the water back for them looking around for some stored food, finding none.

“I know you guys are hungry and I promise to get you food right away.” I hugged them both and left the barn, looking around the estate for the first time. The fields were planted! As far as the eye could see rows were plowed into the dirt in preparation for the spring seeding. Joe was a marvel with all he had done which included leasing the fields for planting. It was time to wake him up to find some food for the horses and people now in my charge.

I looked at the jeep parked on the side of the house, probably there to avoid shocking someone who wandered outside for some air. I smiled, which felt so foreign to my face. I was still high on Jamie helping me and looked up at the sky like I would see him looking down. I started to cry and forced myself to walk back to the house.

Murtagh was sitting in the kitchen with a beer and fruit juice opened in front of him. He startled when I walked in and his face looked so sad. He got up and hugged me for a long time. I knew both of our hearts were breaking and I hugged him back.

“The horses are here, in the barn. Jamie woke me up and said they were starving so I went and got them.”

Murtagh looked shocked and then stern. “No more of that lassie, home must be crawlin with red coats and what would we all do if you get yerself killed?”

“I am going to teach you what to do, just in case. Someone besides me needs to know the way back. Besides, I was safe with Jamie last night.”

Murtagh looked at her with sympathy and shook his head wondering why the stones allowed her passage when Jamie would be killed in less than two short years. He would choke the life out of the witch when he returned. “I’m goin out to check on the horses, lass.”

I felt Murtagh move away from me but didn’t hear where he was going. I built a fire to add some normalcy to the morning as people came downstairs after a night’s sleep. Misses Crook practically ran downstairs with a look of fear. She had slept right through the afternoon and evening and must have been startled in this strange place. I hugged her and begged her to relax and trust me. She walked into the kitchen and called me a few minutes later.

“I found no cauldren and where do I make the fire?”

“Well, they never make fires in the kitchen in this time.” I bent down to pull out the biggest pot in the cabinet and placed it on a burner. I opened all the cabinets looking for dried goods and soups. When I found the container of oatmeal, I read the directions, poured hot water into the pan and sprinkled a quarter of the oatmeal into the boiling water. Finding hot pads, I moved the pan to a cold burner and stirred the oatmeal. The whole operation took ten minutes.

Misses Crook watched everything I did and then looked into the pot and gasped. “What is this, magic? I’ll no be cavortin with the devil to make breakfast, ye can be sure of that.”

I stopped her gently and explained it was simply advanced technology and food science and had nothing to do with the devil. I filled a bowl for her and encouraged her to eat it. She was so overwhelmed, and I saw her eyes, red-rimmed, for the first time since our meeting a year ago. She was so scared and my heart broke for her.

“Let me show you how to make coffee. It’s fun and fast.”

I told her what to pull out, how to measure, and fill the pot with water, then pour it into the machine and turn it on. She seemed to do better when she was put to a task. I would have to remember that.

“Misses Crook, I brought the horses here last night and they are starving. I would bet a paycheck someone grew alfalfa in one of those fields last year.”

“What is a paycheck. What is alfalfa?”

“It’s horse food actually. When they harvest it, some people turn it into cubes with a large machine called a combine.”

I knew it was hopeless to make her understand such a leap in technology, so I grabbed her hand and pulled her outside. It was warm enough to go without cloaks, so I nudged her toward the field and started looking for the cubed food leftover from last year. I knew there was a lot of spillage and it would have been frozen through the winter. We might get lucky and find a field with leftovers from last year’s harvest. We hunted, crossing two fields before Misses Crook yelled for me. She held a perfect Alfalfa cube in her hand, and I let out a whoop with a smile.

It was on. Like an Easter egg hunt, we searched the field for more cubes. Murtagh came to ask what was lost and we filled him in. Misses Crook’s cheeks were pink from the cool morning and her excitement. Glavia waved her hand from the kitchen door and I ran for my daughter.

“What is happening in the field?”

“We discovered horse food cubes and the horses are starving.”

She watched Murtagh lift a cube in the air with a rare smile on his face. I sat on the stairs to the kitchen and laid Faith at my breast.

"Glavia, we could use your sharp eye to find more."

She was smiling with excitement and took off running for the field. As Faith filled her little belly, I watched the three of them get lost in this game with smiles and laughter making them forget for a little while.

“Morning Pet, how is my girl today, good?”

So like Joe to provide the only answer that was acceptable. He looked out at the field and three people dancing around holding something up in the air. He blinked several times and asked me what they were doing.

“I brought two starving horses back last night and they are finding food for them. It was a great thing you did, leasing out the fields for growing. You are brilliant Joe.”

He looked me in the eye for a long minute. “Are there two horses in that barn now?”

When I nodded yes, he took a deep breath. “Where did they come from?”

“I went back and got them because they would have died.”

Joe put up his hand to stop me and then put his hand around mine. “Pet, did you go back to 1745 last night to bring these horses back.”

“Yes.”

His eyes were closed for almost a minute as he wrapped his head around my truth. I realized he had believed everything I had told him so far. At least I thought he did.

“Take me, please.”

“I cannot during the day. There are many red coats waiting for me so we can only go at night. I will take you Joe.”

I felt a tear slide down my cheek and then another. My heart ached to kiss Jamie good morning and the pain that pressed on me, knowing I never would again, crushed me to my tears. I asked Joe to help in the field, looking for cubes. I needed to lay Faith down in her bed and then sob into a pillow.

Joe ran for the field and I carried Faith to her bed before laying in Jamie’s room where I let it go. My body shook with my sobbing and I felt a warm hand on my back that was so comforting and so familiar.

"Jamie! Jaaamiiiieee! I can’t bear this pain, I want to go with you! Please God let me die with him.”

I felt him pull me down and his warmth wrap around me. I could hear his breathing in my ear until I fell asleep, a dreamless, healing sleep that lasted for hours.

“Help me Sassenach.” I heard his voice in my dream and panicked myself awake. I sat up on the bed and noticed the room was darker with the late afternoon. I stumbled downstairs and blinked at everyone sitting in the kitchen together while Faith entertained. When she saw me her arms were raised. “ma-ma-ma-uppy”

I pulled her to my breast, wishing I could feel Jamie now, so he would know I was taking care of his daughter. Instead, I just blinked at everyone while Baritone filled the kitchen with the delicious smells of lasagna and garlic bread. I figured someone had gone shopping and wondered how the jeep was received.

“The horses,” I said as my memory of searching for food came back.

Misses Crook beamed and announced they had found enough cubes to last several days.

“I ordered from the feed store in Edinburgh Pet. It will be here tomorrow. I didn’t know what to get so I asked for grain, and hay.”

He was watching Faith nurse and I kissed his hand. “Thank you.”

A plate was set in front of me and I put a forkful in my mouth. It was so delicious I closed my eyes and I chewed while my mind filled with images of Jamie on the battlefield. My eyes slammed open and I shot out of my chair. How could I eat and enjoy food when Jamie never would again?

Faith was out for the night, so I made my way to Jamie’s bed, holding the pillow in front of me, clinging to it. I knew then I could not bear this pain for long. It would kill me and that would be a relief. Somewhere far away I heard the word “NO” whispered on the wind. I laid in the dark and prayed that Jamie would feel my love.

I was dreaming of teaching Faith to count hay cubes when I heard him, “Sassenach, wake up.”

I could not see the hand in front of my face it was so dark. My feet touched the floor and I felt him calling me back to Lallybroch. “Jamie, are you alive?” A whispered “help” was what I heard. I jumped off the bed and grabbed my bag stopping suddenly when Joe’s request came back to me. I searched the house for him finally finding the basement room that he converted into a bedroom. I approached the bed and touched Joe. He gasped and turned to see me.

“Pet.”

“I am going back tonight. Do you want to go?”

He was pulling his clothes on within seconds, feeling around for his shoes. He said nothing. He stayed very close, and when I told him to cling to me, he did.

The same rushing in my ears and feeling jettisoned away while I held tight to Joe’s arms. We landed in the field outside Lallybroch and I pushed Joe to the ground. He was hyperventilating and I whispered, “breathe slowly Joe.” I waited until his breathing normalized and felt him grip me in the pitch dark.

“Did we go back in time Pet?”

I had scanned the property looking for red coats and barely heard him. I could tell it was much later in the night when this land is devoid of movement or sounds from a human. My eye caught something new in the dooryard and I squinted to make the shape out.

“Help”

I took off running as fast as I could. Not looking for red coats, not caring if I was shot in the next minute. Jamie was in that shape, a wagon, asking me for help. I ran up on the wagon, left in the front of the house. I jumped inside and fell on his back, listening for breath. I knew there would be red coats laying in wait around the property, so I was silent. Joe was next to me somehow, he flipped Jamie over and felt his neck. He whispered in my ear, “take us all back right now Pet.”

I pulled Jamie onto my outstretched legs and linked my arm in Joe’s as the shard was pulled from my pocket and my eyes closed to the image of modern Lallybroch. As we were pulled away at warp speed I clung to Jamie and Joe, praying we found him in time.

In the yard of 2019 Lallybroch, Joe went to work on Jamie. He grabbed my hand and begged me to get Baritone and then go to my room. I took off for the lower bedroom bursting in to find Baritone sitting on the edge of the bed. I pointed, “Joe needs you, please.”

Baritone passed me in a streak and I stood there, panting, wanting to go to Jamie but Joe made me promise to stay away. He was already a doctor and I had to put my absolute trust in him. I waited until I heard them bring him in. It sounded like they were in the kitchen. My ears strained to hear each word and nuance and the tears came down.

“Jamie, can you hear me? Are you with me? Jamie!”

“I am fighting.”

I grabbed the wall as I spun to the floor. I heard Murtagh’s voice, yelling at Jamie and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I ran to the kitchen and saw all the men around Jamie. Baritone was doing chest compression while Joe was breathing for Jamie.

“Oh dear God,” I ran to the table where they had laid Jamie. On the other side of Joe, I put my mouth next to his ear and told him how proud I was that he survived and came back to me. I poured my love into his ear and did not let myself speak any negative, just encouragement to fight, for me, for Faith, for our promises. I did not notice all that Joe was doing and how Baritone and Murtagh were helping. I was alone with my husband speaking my love and my faith in him, feeling drunk on the hope he would take a breath on his own.

“Jamie?”

“My love.” Was but a whisper.

“Fill your lungs with air, RIGHT NOW!”

Jamie made a strangulated sound as his chest rose and he breathed deeply. Joe was overjoyed and pressed a stethoscope to his chest and pressed a finger to his neck.

I had pressed Jamie’s head against mine, like I wouldn’t allow him to leave me. With the jubilation in the kitchen, Jamie and I held each other in the blissful quiet of a secret place in my mind. His hands held me close, shaking at first, then gradually feeling stronger, possessive. He gripped me to him and whispered, “my beauty.”

[moonlightrichie]

Reddie + in the rain + a bet, please

Thanks for the prompt! Don’t know if this is what you imagined, but I hope you like it ! ♡ This is a little inspired by the movie ‘Remember Me’. Also, this got kinda long. Enjoy!

READ ON AO3

Warnings: smoking weed, mentions of sex, uhh shitty behavior

Richie’s week didn’t exactly get off to a good start.

When he’d woken up Monday morning to take a smoke before heading off to school, he’d never pictured his week going the way it had.

It started mildly, Richie forgetting to check the student pages to see that his 8am class had been cancelled and he’d gotten up early for nothing. Then he’d ended up stepping in dog shit on his way back home and at the exact same time, the weather gods had decided it was a good idea to provide the earth with some pouring rain. He’d been soaked within five seconds.

Nothing too bad, but just enough to make someone go “I’ve just had a really long hard day” before grabbing a beer from the fridge and settling down in the couch to watch Netflix for the rest of the night. He’d ended up messaging Beverly to meet him in the park to smoke weed, her reply a stream of heart-eyes and thumbs-ups.

The two had met, sitting down on their designated bench for the night, burning joints between their fingers. Both of them loved the park at night, especially their usual spot that was located on the other side of where the hobos slept.

But his bad Monday hadn’t ended there. In fact, it had only gotten started. Because that was when a stranger had stopped before them, a woman seeming to be around 50.

“You can’t smoke that”, she’d said. “It’s illegal.”

Richie and Beverly, high off their asses, hadn’t been able to stop their laughter, the woman frowning down at their disrespect. If Richie had been a little smarter, he’d have put the joint down, apologized and gone home. But no, instead his high brain had had to make it worse.  

“I’m calling the police”, she’d muttered angrily before pulling out her phone.

Their laughter had stopped abruptly, both looking at each other desperately to figure out what they should do. Should they run? Try to convince the woman not to call the police?

Once again, had they been smarter, they’d have run. Instead though, dumb and disoriented as they’d been, they’d tried telling her not to call.

The woman had ended up not even having to call the police, because not even a second later, what appeared to be a cruising police car had driven by, stopping at the woman’s frantic gestures.

“Officers, I was just on my way home when I noticed these two…”

That was when they’d run for it, ending up with only making it worse.

If they’d just been a little smarter, they would have given themselves up paid a fine, but by running they’d bought one-way tickets into the cells for the night.  

Richie’s dad had had to pay bail for the both of them (“I’m taking this out of your inheritance, Rich”), and Richie had never felt more like a disappointment in his life.

It was Wednesday when Beverly came crashing into the group room where he was quietly studying (playing games on his phone) in the library on campus. “She’s got a son.”

Richie didn’t look up from his phone, barely paying attention. “Who?”

“That woman who busted us.”

He stopped, looking up at her. She was smiling like she was insane. “Okay?”

“You should ask him out.”

Doing a double take, he almost dropped his phone. “What?”

“Ask him out. Fuck him. Dump him”, Beverly was ticking the points off with her fingers.

Having no idea where she was going with this, he leaned back in his chair with a frown. “And why should I do that?”

“Revenge”, she said simply as if it was obvious.

“How is that revenge?”

She sighed. “I saw him, okay? She was dropping him off at school, and this uptight bitch has a super neat son, all ironed shirts and fucking gelled hair. She’ll hate that a guy like you not only touched her perfect little angel, but you broke his heart too, it’ll destroy her.”

Beverly was actually crazy.

“What the fuck?”

“It’s perfect!” She threw up her hands.

“Why can’t you date him?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Uh, ‘cause I’m a lesbian?”

Richie scoffed. “Yeah, but maybe he’s not into guys either, thought about that?”

Pursing her lips, she scratched at her chin. “Huh.”

“He can be straight for all we know.”

“Rich”, she sighed in frustration.

“No.”

“He’s cute”, she sang, rocking back and forth on her heels. “What’s the harm in trying?”

“I’m not going out with some choir boy.”

“Rich, he’s like totally your type, he’s…” She stopped abruptly, suddenly hitting his arm with her hand. “Oh my god, there he is!” She nodded her head towards the hallway.

“Fuck, why’s he gotta actually be cute, too?” Richie whispered too himself, hating how Beverly was right. Despite the proper clothing and neatly done hair, the guy didn’t give off the innocent nerdy vibe Richie had pictured when Beverly first described him. Instead his doe-eyes were fierce and bright as he sat down in one of the quieter corners of the library, lips pursing as he took out his notebook.

“Right?” Beverly tapped his shoulder. “Now go get ‘em, tiger.”

“No, no, no, no”, Richie panicked as she started dragging him out of his chair. “Bev, stop it right now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

If Beverly hadn’t planned this whole thing asking the guy out, Richie probably would have put his moves on the guy on his own. Richie really couldn’t stop staring at him, soft freckled cheeks and with a gaze so sharp it could cut glass; he looked like a real rule-breaker.  

“I’ll give you 20 dollars if you kiss him before the week is over”, she muttered into his ear, a perfectly tweezed eyebrow rising as the challenge burned in her eyes.

“A bet?” he almost wanted to laugh. “Really?”

She shrugged. “Apparently revenge wasn’t good enough.”

He hesitated.

“Oh come on, Tozier, you’d get the best end of the deal: revenge, 20 dollars and a kiss from a cute guy.”

He hated to admit that she was right once again. Finally, he nodded his head, and before he even knew what was happening Beverly was pushing him harshly in front of the table where the cute guy was focusing on his schoolwork.

The guy didn’t even look up when Richie stepped up, clearing his throat.

He tried to look back at Beverly for help, but she was hiding behind Richie’s English book.

He cleared his throat again. “Uh, hi?”

“Can I help you?” the guy said monotonously, still not looking up from his book.

“Did you know that bending your neck like that is, like, super bad for you?” the words were out before Richie could stop them, “even giving blowjobs is better for your neck.”

Fuck, what the fuck was that? He wanted to jump out the window.

The guy finally looked up, stopping his scribbling in his book. Narrowing his eyes at Richie, he looked him over. “Excuse me?”

“Like”, Richie laughed nervously, “if you gave a blowjob to someone, it would hurt less on your neck than how you’re si-”

“No, yeah, I got that”, the guy interrupted, holding a hand up to stop Richie from finishing his sentence. “What I meant was, excuse me, but who are you?”

Richie took a bow, one hand on his stomach and one sticking out to his side. “Richie Tozier at your service.”

The guy sighed. “Okay, Richie Tozier, what is it you want?”

“Uh…” he choked up, tongue fumbling in his mouth for words.

“Cause it sounded like you were asking me for a blowjob”, the guy pressed his lips together, eyebrows rising.

Richie’s eyes widened. “No, no! I…”

“So you don’t want a blowjob?” and fucking hell, how the hell was Richie supposed to respond to that?

“Yes! Wait no! I mean you’re pretty cute, so I wouldn’t-, wait, fuck”, Richie stopped himself before he could embarrass himself even more. He took a deep breath, letting his shoulder sink in defeat. “I actually wanted to ask you out, but I say dumb shit when I get nervous. Sorry for bothering you.”

He started backing away, turning around with heat boiling in his cheeks. Never had he bombed so hard trying to pick someone up, but there was something about this guy that was extremely intimidating. Way too proper and good for someone like Richie. Richie, with his unwashed hair, chipped nail polish, broken glasses, crooked teeth and shoes with holes. He’d used those qualities to wow people before, girls finding the messiness somewhat charming.

There was really no chance that Richie could get a guy like that, and he wished he hadn’t let Beverly talk him into trying, embarrassment weighing heavily in the pit of his stomach.

“Okay, wait”, the guy’s voice tore into Richie’s thoughts, Richie turning around slowly.

“What?” he knew he sounded miserable.

The guy motioned him over with a finger, already starting to scribble something in the corner of his book. “I’m free tomorrow night.” He tore the corner off, reaching it out to Richie. “Here’s my number.” He was smiling now, eyes glinting. Oh boy was he out of Richie’s league.

Still, Richie took the note, looking at it with wide eyes before staring at the guy again. “I feel like you’re doing this out of pity.”

The guy laughed. “So what if I am? Are you going to take me out tomorrow or not?”

Nodding his head, Richie packed the note safely into his shirt pocket. “I am. You’re not gonna regret this.”

“I hope not”, the guy picked up his pencil again. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Hell yeah you will.” He started walking away before remembering something. “Hey, I never got your name?”

The guy looked up again. “Eddie.”

“Cute.” Richie winked before returning to a beaming Beverly, the two sharing a high five before leaving the library together.

Thursday night rolled around, and Richie was waiting outside the local pizza place, waiting for Eddie. He’d dressed as nice as he could: a button up that was actually one of his Hawaiian shirts only tucked inside his dark jeans instead of hanging loosely they normal. He’d washed his hair too.

“Hey”, a voice said to his right, and turning around, Richie’s gaze landed on Eddie, all dressed up in a silk shirt and dress pants. He was smiling at Richie.

“Hi.” Richie leaned down to give Eddie a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting, pushing his hands into his pockets.

The date went surprisingly well, Richie feeling much more relaxed after getting Eddie’s approval the day before, even if it was out of pity or not. He even forgot about the whole reason he’d had asked him out until Eddie mentioned his mom. Instantly, Richie’s chest felt like it was constricting, heart speeding up.

He hadn’t expected gaining genuine interest for the man in front of him, but Eddie was funny, smart and could actually keep up with Richie’s bullshit remarks, firing back just as easily as Richie fired out.

“I still live with my mom”, Eddie was dragging his finger over the top of his wine glass, going in circles as he talked. “She’s not very thrilled about the gay thing.”

Richie tried to swallow the lump in his throat with no success. “No?”

“She’s learning to live with it though”, Eddie stopped touching his wine glass, leaning his head in his hand as he looked at Richie with a smile. He laughed shortly. “Honestly I think she’d flip if she knew I was on a date with you right now.”

The lump only grew. “Oh?” he choked out, trying to seem casual. Normally he’d fire back with “that’s just ‘cause she’s jealous, Eds, she wants me all to herself”, but his heavy tongue couldn’t form the words.  

“Yeah,” Eddie looked him over with shining eyes. “Smelling like cigarettes and all that, not exactly her favorite scent.”

At this point the lump was so big Richie could barely breathe.

When they were done eating and talking, the two decided to walk for a bit together, Richie offering to follow Eddie some of his way home, too scared of Eddie’s mom to offer to walk all the way.

Their hands were brushing with every step, Eddie looking up at Richie every once in a while. Richie could feel the guilt in his stomach building with each second, being around Eddie feeling like too much.

“I think I’ll turn around here”, he muttered in the end, smiling down at Eddie, hoping it didn’t look too forced.

“Okay”, Eddie was smiling. “I had a good time.”

“Me too”, Richie’s forced smile turned more genuine at that; he’d really meant it.

The two stood looking at each other for a moment, and just as Richie was about to say his goodbye, a drop of cold water hit the tip of his nose. Confused, he looked up to the sky, more rain soaking his face, and within seconds, it was pouring, Richie already blind from his glasses being fogged up with droplets.

“Well, see ya”, Richie muttered, desperate to get away so he could breathe. He started to turn away.

“You’re not gonna kiss me?”

Richie stopped, face snapping up to meet Eddie’s gaze, disappointment heavy on his beautiful features. “What?”

“All that and you’re not gonna kiss me?” Eddie’s brows were furrowed.

Richie was struggling to come up with a response, Beverly’s bet ringing in his ears.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” was the only thing he could think of to say.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

He remembered the horrible night in the cell, his dad’s disappointed stare when bailing him out, the lecture of responsibility he’d received during the car ride home. He remembered the smug look on Eddie’s mom’s face when the police put Beverly and him into the backseat of the police car, the money he now owed his dad, taken out of his own inheritance. He remembered Eddie’s words: “she’d flip if she knew I was on a date with you right now”, and Richie felt some sort of satisfaction at kissing that terrible woman’s precious little son.

So Richie stepped forward, leaning down and capturing Eddie’s lips in a kiss, immediately kissing desperately and passionately with his tongue already licking into Eddie’s mouth. Their spit mixed in with the rain, their lips sliding together easily.

‘She’d flip. She’d flip.’

Oh she’d flip, alright. Eddie hummed, hands flying up to tug at Richie’s dripping hair, tongue quick to respond and meeting Richie’s just as desperately.

‘Not very thrilled about the gay thing.’

Too bad, he thought to himself. Your son is being gay with me right now, what are you gonna do about it?

They broke apart, Richie smiling down at Eddie.

“Wow”, Eddie breathed out. “Uh, will I get to see you again?”

‘Ask him out. Fuck him. Dump him’. Beverly’s voice rang in his ears. ‘She’ll hate that a guy like you not only touched her perfect little angel, but you broke his heart too, it’ll destroy her.’

Richie felt victorious, already pulling out his phone to text Beverly to send over the 20 bucks. “Absolutely.”

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All you have to be is here - Part 1 - Billy Hargrove

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age who’s smile is phenomenal and who is way too nice to him. 

I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that. 

Part 1 of ?

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please. Also It’s 2:30 am here so I’ll make a header image later after I’ve slept a little. K thanks.]

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don't have to hide, don't have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever's just for now We're on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

There’s a thing about waiting rooms, Billy thinks, where they try to make them look alive by putting everything up on the walls they can find. All the bullshit abstract paintings and clocks in weird shapes and bright color. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s a waiting room though, and people here aren’t happy. 

The walls are the offest white Billy has ever seen and the sad thing is he’s fairly sure they deliberately chose this color. He can hear the ticking of the clock shaped like a daisy flower, hammering through the silence. 

Everything here seems too much. The walls are too off-white. The clock is too loud. The paintings too bright. There’s people on the brochures and flyers that are so neatly placed on the table in the middle of the room. Those people stare at him with their shiny colgate smiles that are just a tiny bit too wide to be reassuring and end up looking more creepy than anything.

He really has to give it to them, they tried it here. Tried to make the place feel less sterile and more homely and warm. The seats in the waiting room are cushioned and comfortable and there’s music playing faintly in the background.

And yet this is still a waiting room and no one wants to be here.

A cough sounds from his right, followed by another one. It’s the 12th cough in the matter of 5 minutes. He’s counted. The man next to him looks about Neil’s age and he’s built like a tank. And he looks positively miserable. 

In the corner of the room sits a girl who seems to be a little older than Billy. She has bright red hair pulled up in a crazy bun and she’s nervously fumbling around with a hair tie. Twirling it around a finger then twirling it back. Tangle, untangle, tangle, untangle. 

“ Billy ? “ 

He looks up at the voice and his heart sinks all the way down to his stomach. I am not sick. I am not sick. I am not sick and I don’t need to be here.

But the facts are that he is here, he has to be. And waiting for him in the doorway of the waiting room is a doctor. A therapist. Dr. Ryland Kapelsky.

Who the fuck calls their kid Ryland ? 

He’s got a thick bushy mustache and glasses that look two sizes too big for his tiny head. Everything about him seems far too comical. This has to be a caricature come to life, straight off the pages of a sunday newspaper.

This man, Billy is painfully aware, knows more about him than he wants him to know. He’s most definitely read his file. He surely knows this therapy session is court ordered.

And still, caricature man holds no judgement in his eyes. 

“ Billy ? “ he asks again, now looking straight at Billy as if his deep brown eyes might look right into Billy’s soul, “ that’s you, right ? “ .

Billy nods and gets up “ yeah that’s me “.

Dr. Kapelsky has a firm handshake and Billy think that this guy is not one to bullshit. Which is quite tragic because bullshitting is something Billy absolutely excels in. 

“ Nice to meet you, if you’d please follow me to my office “.

His voice is stern but not mean or angry. He seems professional enough which is a bit surprising compared to his comical look.

As they move down the hallway, more off-white walls left and right, Billy glances at the various plaques and certificates proudly displayed.

He wonders if there’s one for winning the caricature look-alike contest. Suppressing a chuckle he follows the man into a spacious office and sits down in yet another cushioned chair by a big oakwood desk. 

Dr. Kapelsky closes the door before joining Billy by the desk. He sizes him up, tries to figure him out by just initial impression. Billy can tell. He’s probably trying to come up with a way to approach the situation, to get him to open up and spill all his deep and dark secrets and emotions. 

Billy can see it all happening and yet all he can concentrate on, is the taxidermy racoon on the shelf in the corner of the room. Why the fuck did this comic-figure-looking guy have a taxidermy racoon in his office ? 

“ So, Billy. Let us start with introductions. I am Dr. Ryland Kapelsky but you can call me Dr. K. It’s what most of my younger patients do.” 

Billy hates this, not the guy but the attitude. He’s not going to win him over by pretending to be cool and down with the kids. He’s not a kid. 

He’s not a patient either. Because he is not sick. 

“ a’right. “ 

“ And you are ? “ 

“ Billy Hargrove, you know this. You’ve read the file. “ 

“ I did, indeed. “ 

“ So you know this is court ordered. I’m not here because I want to be or need this is any way. I have to be here or I’m going to juvie. That’s the only reason. Sorry to disappoint but we’re not gonna end up making daisy chains and talking about our feelings. “ 

“ I understand that you don’t want to be here “ Dr. K. says and slides the too-big glasses down his nose “, no one really does. I need you to understand though, that this is a chance for you more so than a punishment. “ 

That’s easy for him to say, Billy thinks, he’s the one getting a big ass paycheck.

“ I see you’ve also been assigned 60 days of community service. Is that correct ? “ 

“ Yes, sir. “ 

“ I was asked to suggest an institution I find suitable for you to work those days. One that I think will benefit you. “ 

“ Wait wait wait. What ? I thought I was gonna pick up trash at the side of the highway “.

“ Billy, “ Dr. K says and does that thing adults do where they look at you and sigh and pretend to care “ this is supposed to help you. It’s a chance. Picking up trash is not gonna do anything now, is it ? I want you to take something from this. “ 

Oh he has taken something from it. Don’t punch rich kids whose parents have the funds to get a good lawyer and press charges. No matter how deserving those rich kids are of a fist in their face.

“ Alright then, what’s the verdict, doc ? Where you gonna send me off to ? “ 

“ Well. There’s a place in Huckley, it’s a tiny town about a 30 minute drive from Hawkins. It’s called the Huckley home from troubled children and youth. There’s kids and teenagers from troubled homes who struggle in life. They’re all a bit younger than you. Most of them come from abusive homes. “ 

“ What are you saying, sir ? I’m not a troubled youth. I don’t need to attend some looney institute, bad enough I have to sit through this shit here.“ 

He doesn’t like this man insinuating stuff about Billy’s home life. He doesn’t know shit. No matter how many plaques and trophies and certificates. This man doesn’t know the first thing about Billy’s family. His home. 

“ Oh no you’re supposed to work there. Help out in activities. Attend the group session and listen to the kids. Also, and I mean no offence, Billy. I only judge by what I am familiar with. By what I’ve learned over the years. I see your father was asked to accompany you to today’s appointment. He’s not here. “ 

“ I’m almost 18 my dad doesn’t need to be here. “ 

Truth is, Neil wouldn’t have come no matter what age Billy is. 8 or 18 it doesn’t make a difference. Neil laughed at him when the letter came. Then gave him a black eye to go with. His taunting words are still ringing through Billy’s ears. 

“ Yes but we usually like the parents to be there. To asses the situation and to — “ 

“ Well he’s not here so can we drop it ? “ 

“ Sure. “ 

Billy can see him scribbling something into his notebook. Probably another assumption. It’s ridiculous, really. The fact that he has to sit here and let a complete stranger make up a story of what he thinks is going on in Billy’s life.

“ Look doc, I don’t need you to figure me out or anything like that. It’s bullshit anyway. All I need is for you to sign my notes every session for the next 8 weeks so the court knows I’ve been here and that’s about it, okay ? You get paid either way so it shouldn’t matter. “ 

“ This is my job, Billy. It always matters.”

“ Well this time it don’t. Now tell me about that troubled youth center thing so I can get that over and done with.” 

- XXX -

The Huckley home from troubled children and youth stands at the end of a cul-de-sac with a little lake and a whole god damn forest behind it. There’s two other houses down the street but they’re all about 10 minute walk away from the big red brick building.

He takes one last puff from his cigarette before stomping it out on the floor and walking up the gravel driveway towards the big oak door.

There’s gold ornaments on the door handles and up and down the sides. He wonders if this is one of those fancy looney bins that rich parents send their kids to when they don’t wanna deal with them or can’t bother to bring them on their trip to Aspen.

The inside looks nothing like Billy has expected it to look. There’s wide big walkways and windows that let the sunlight stream through the halls. Every wall is plastered with drawings and macaroni picture frames and certificates that all hold little shiny star stickers. 

It reminds him a little of his elementary school back home in California. His mom used to be a teacher there and even before he was old enough to visit the school himself, sometimes she took him with her to sit by her desk while she taught the kids a new letter or help her put the shiny stars onto an especially well done assignment. 

But his mom is gone now and sticker stars don’t mean shit in the real world. He wonders if they ever really did. If so, he’d like to know when they stopped mattering.

“ Can I help you ? “ a voice speaks up from his right. There’s a girl there and she doesn’t seem to be much older than him. She’s wearing a white shirt that proudly displays the letters HHTCY. Ah great, uniforms. 

She’s cute though, he has to admit that much.

“ Hi. I’m Billy. Billy Hargrove. I’m here for — uh community service “.

“ Oh! Oh yeah just let me — let me see if I can find someone to … “ she doesn’t finish the sentence, just hurries back towards the way she’s just come from.

Billy uses this time to look around the halls a little more. The certificates all seem to have been rewarded for different things. Exceptional Storyteller. Hide & Seek champion. Queen of hopscotch.

He wonders what certificate he’d get. Biggest disappointment ? Lousiest life ? Best hair ? Probably all of them. 

“ Sooo, seems like Janet was supposed to show you around but she’s had a family emergency so she’s not here aaand that means I’ll show you around since literally anyone else is currently busy. “ the girl appears again, her mouth spitting out words a mile a minute. 

“ I’m (Y/N) “ .

“ Billy. “ 

“ Hi, welcome to —” 

“ Look sweetheart, I don’t need to whole spiel, okay ? I’m here on court order so just tell me where to go and what to do and let’s get this over with. “ 

She looks defeated for a moment which makes Billy feel a little bad about his harsh tone but really, the quicker he’s started the quicker he gets to leave. Once this is over he’s not gonna see this girl ever again, so who cares ? 

“ Oh, alright. Well here’s a schedule that Janet made and a floorplan. I need to show you around before you get to actually do anything but I am scheduled to sit in on a group talk so I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me. Now look, I get you don’t want to be here. Honestly I don’t give a shit about that. But these people, these kids, they are here because we care and because they need someone to care. Don’t be a dick in there. Don’t ruin this for them. If you do, I’m gonna kick your ass into the next dimension. Is that clear ? “ 

Billy is stunned. He doesn’t know who this girl is but it’s not the same one that he’s interacted with just minutes before. This one isn’t timid or sweet. She’s spunky and feisty and interesting and — kinda hot.

“ Whatever you say, ma’am” 

“ Yeah, whatever I say. Now let’s go !” 

Damn. What the hell has he gotten himself into here.

- XXX -

The room that the group talk is held in is big and airy with light colored walls and even more paintings. It’s not at all as small and cramped and sad as he had imagined it. 

There’s a bunch of people here, about 6 or 7 kids who range from what Billy assumes can’t be much older than 6, to people who look to be around his age. Then there’s (Y/N) and a woman that had introduced herself to Billy as Dr. White, though all the kids seem to refer to her by her first name, Lydia. 

Some of the kids are smiling, radiating with energy and joy while others hardly speak up and mostly keep their eyes focused on the floor. Though even those kids are always attentive, Billy notices. Always listening. Still a valid and active part of this conversation even when they don’t even speak a single word.

This whole talk is so different from what he expected it to be. There’s no pressure. No one is forced to do an emotional strip and lay bare all of their darkest secrets and innermost feelings. it’s mostly the kids talking about their day. The good and the bad. Things that scared them and things that gave them hope. Lydia seems genuinely interested in what they have to say too. (Y/N), Billy notices as his eyes keep drifting towards her, hold a warm smile on her face the entire time. And it’s not fake or overdone. It seems so genuine, so honest. He wonders if anyone has ever smiled at him like this.

“ Abby, you haven’t said anything yet. How was your day ? “ Lydia asks, looking at the girl across from her in the circle of chairs. Abby must be around 7 or 8 years old. She’s small and has a big mop of blond hair on her head. Her sweater seems a few sizes too big, she’s practically drowning in it. Billy isn’t sure he really wants to know her story. If she’s here, he’s sure it’s not a happy one.

“ It was — alright. Grandma and Grandpa came to visit. They took me to get ice cream, mom wasn’t here though. Not this time. They said next time she’d come. Maybe I get to see her for my birthday. “ she says the words with a sprinkle of hope, one Billy knows too well. A hope he has tried to hold onto for so many times in his own life. One that’s but a mere illusion. It’s a trick. It’s not real.

He hopes this little girl never has to find out about that. He hopes, sincerely hopes, that she gets to keep this hope in her heart for as long as humanly possible. Because losing it comes with pain and suffering and heartbreak. And this little girl doesn't deserve that. 

“ So how would you rate your day from 1 to 10 ? “ Lydia asks. 

“ Like a 7 maybe ? “ 

“ Are you asking me ? “ Lydia smiles at Abby.

“ A solid 7 “.

“ That’s good then. “ 

They’ve done this with all the kids that had wanted to share something, ask them to rate their day. Billy’s days are usually 4s sometimes when it’s a real good day their climb up to become a 6. Then there’s days, those when Neil is home, that are no better than a 2. Those ones come with at least a bruised cheek or a bloody nose and at worst with a broken rib. 

“ So, I guess that’s it for today. Thank you guys for sharing your stories with us. Those of you to stay, please go get some lunch. Those that go home, I’ll see you next monday and I hope your week becomes a solid 10. “ 

Something in the way Lydia speaks, makes Billy feel a little more at easy. She has a softness to her words, like they’re made of cotton. His mom used to talk like that to her students. All gentle and kind and wonderful. 

“ Hey you “ a hand waves up and down in front of Billy’s face “ let’s grab lunch then let me show you around. “ 

It takes a moment for Billy’s eyes to fully focus on the person in front of him, only to be met with (Y/N) who’s wearing a huge scowl on her face. 

“ Huh ? “ 

“ I said let’s go eat. Oh and uh — thanks for not fucking this up. “ 

He doesn’t think behaving like a decent human being deserves any kind of thanks, he appreciates it anyway.

- XXX -

“ … and this is my office. Well technically it’s Janet’s office but she mostly does our paperwork and accounting and so she does that from home most of the time aaaand that means I get to use the office while she’s not here. Even though I’m only volunteering and I’m not supposed to have an office actually but uh —  “ 

“ You talk a lot, don’t you ? “ Billy asks as a smirk pulls up the corner of his lip. 

“ I’ve heard people say that, yeah. You on the other hand talk very little “ (Y/N) says before sitting down on the big oak desk. 

“ Yeah well I don’t got nothing to say to you, babe. “ 

“ Ah man, you gotta stop with those pet names. “ 

“ Huh, and why’s that ? Does it make you nervous ? “ there it is, the smooth suave Hargrove charm that his mother always said was gonna cause her sleepless night and gray hair. He always scoffed at that, now he wishes he could see her with gray hair. Older and — alive. 

“ Pretty much everything makes me nervous really but no, it’s just unprofessional. “ 

“ You’re a volunteer and I am here on court’s order. We’re hardly professionals. “ 

He can see a small smile threatening to cross her face, it’s so subtle he almost misses it. Almost. 

“ What’s the deal with Abby ? “

“ huh ? “

“ The little girl. “ 

Something about this girl reminded Billy so much of himself when he was younger. Her whole demeanor was so familiar like he was looking into some kind of distorted mirror that allowed him to look into the past. He just had to know what her story was, even if it meant to feel the all too familiar pain. 

“ I can’t tell you any specifics but well, her mom has — issues and her dad is not in the picture. She used to stay with her grandparents but they are getting older and feel like they can’t provide her with all the things she needs at this moment. So she stays here with us. “ 

“ Do all the kids ? “ 

“ Nah. Some of them stay here permanently. Some temporary. Some just come around certain days of the week. It really depends on their individual situation. We provide them with what they need even if it’s just a place to stay and some open ears. “ 

Billy wonders if things would’ve turned out different for him had he had someone who cared. Who was willing to listen. To his sadness and his anger and all the pent or emotions he had to keep inside for the longest fucking time.

“ Well good for them. “ 

“ Yeah. I hope it makes a difference. “ 

Billy smiles at her. He hopes it seems genuine, because it is.

“ Oh I’m sure it does. “ 

- XXX -

Billy is exhausted once he arrives home. (Y/N) took him around the entire building doing several different chores and tasks to make sure he got acquaintanced with everything that needed to be done. From tidying up the community lounge rooms to helping prepare food to paperwork. She made sure he saw and did it all at least once. And my god, this girl was thorough.

As he steps through the door, he can hear the scrapping of cutlery against the porcelain plates. They’re all sitting around the kitchen table like a perfect little family. Neil, Susan and Max. A sight for sore eyes, if he’s ever seen one. There’s no room for Billy on this table. There never really was.

Neil’s eye shoot up as his son enters the kitchen, a snarl makes its way onto his lips and the gross mustache twitches disgustingly. God, Billy can’t even put into words how much he detests his father.

“ Look who returned home. The prodigal son. My boy. Tell us Billy, how was community service ? Did you work real hard ? Did you make them proud ? “ 

The teasing is hardly hidden in his words. It’s ugly and taunting and Billy is sure those words are gonna ghost through his head for much much longer. If Neil could just shut up for once. Just once.

“ It was alright. Can I go to bed now ? “ 

“ Alright ? What kind of answer is that ? “ Neil snarls, taking another sip from his can of bud light. Susan and Max avert their eyes down towards their plates, nervously pushing their food across the tableware. 

“ What do you want me to say, dad ? That is was good? It wasn’t, it was fucking exhausting ! That I’m sorry ? Well I’m not. The dude had it coming. I did a shit thing and now I’m suffering the consequences, what the fuck else do you want me to do ? “ 

He knows, as those words leave his lips, that he’s fucked up. Before he can even register what happens, a loud smash echoes through the room before. Then Billy feels the smooth surface of the fridge pressed against his back and Neil holds him by the face in a grip so tight, Billy is sure there’ll be bruises tomorrow. 

“ Is that a way to talk to your father ? I give you everything you ungrateful little shit and this is how you thank me ? Grow up, Billy ! Start taking some god damn responsibility “ 

Smack. 

He’s used to it by now. It stings a little less each time. He hates that it does. He hates that he gets used to this. From his dad of all people. The one who should be sheltering him from bad is the one bringing it upon him.

“ Do you hear me ? “ 

“ Yes sir ! “ 

Another smack. This time he can feel his lip split open. He’s used to that one too.

“ Excuse me ? What was that ? A little louder please. “ 

“ Yes, Sir !” 

When Neil lets him go and sits back on the kitchen table, Billy carefully steps over the broken plate and hurries towards his room. The rage in his system says “slam the door” but he knows that would make things worse. So much worse. 

Though he can’t help himself but punch the wall. Once. Twice. Three times. He loses count at some point but gets pulled back into reality when he notices a red sheen covering his knuckles. 

As if a split lip wasn’t shitty enough he had to add bleeding knuckles and a bruised fist to it. Great. 

The rage feels all consuming. Like it’s taking over everything and swallowing him whole. He needs to get out. Needs to get away for a moment. Out of this house where misery lives and anger seems to inhabit every corner, every wall. If he doesn’t get out now he’ll explode.

So he opens the window, quiet as a mouse, like he’s done so many times before and rushes towards the camaro. If Neil notices he’s gone, that’s something he’ll have to deal with later. It doesn’t matter right now. All that matter now is getting away. As far away as possible.

- XXX -

There’s a perpetual red glow in this 24h convenience store. It comes from the neon signs in the window that advertise hot dogs and cream soda. Billy thinks it gives the place a realy creepy vibe. 

He fumbles around the freezer before taking out a popsicle package and holding it to his swollen knuckles. It’s soothing sure, but it’s uncomfortable holding that stupid box to his hand.

“ Have you never seen a movie before ? You gotta use frozen peas, man “ 

Recognizing the voice immediately, Billy turns to see (Y/N) stood next to him, a white grocery basket hanging from her arm as she holds out a packet of peas to him. 

“ They properly take the shape of your hand. Works way better, trust me ! “ 

“ Oh yeah “ Billy replies, taking the peas from her hand and holding it to his injured. Goddamn she’s right. “ You some kind of secret nurse or something ? “ 

“ Not really but that’s common sense. “ 

“ Not something I can pride myself with apparently. “ 

And when she laughs at that, it’s like for a second his knuckles don’t hurt and he forgets about the dried blood on his lips.

“ Man, you just got ordered community service for punching someone. Thought you’d have learned. “ 

“ You should see the other guy “ Billy jokes. But really, it’s not funny. Not even close.

“ Yeah ? Big guy ? “ 

“ Huge. Made of drywall “ 

“ Huh. Did you win at least ? “

“ Ya betcha, baby. I always win “ and if only that was the truth.

“ Come on Rocky, lemme get some stuff to fix you up. “ 

It’s a few minutes later that Billy sits in the bed of her pick-up with (Y/N) standing between his legs, dabbing alcohol onto his lip and knuckles. If this wasn’t such a ridiculous situation it could even be a little romantic. With her so close to — certain regions of his body. Fucking hell Billy, get it together !

“ So uh — do you wanna talk about what happened ? “ 

“ Not really. “ 

“ You sure I could — “ 

“ Look (Y/N) I don’t have the best life at home, okay ? But that’s all you need to know. I’m not one of your kids that spill their heart and emotions out to you I just needed to get away from home, is that alright with you ?  

“ That’s perfectly fine “.

He can almost feel how genuine her words are. She doesn’t judge or pry. And he is eternally grateful for that. 

“ Why are you here so late anyway ? “ 

“ Had to get some groceries. We’re gonna pretend I didn’t just come here because I had a huge craving for ice cream, okay ? “ 

He scoffs. This girl is ridiculous. And something about that makes her incredibly charming.

“ So, I assume you don’t wanna go home tonight ? “ 

He doesn’t. If Neil has discovered him gone, he can’t show up home again tonight. Not under any circumstances.

“ Not really, no. “ 

“ I have a pretty comfortable couch. It’s big enough for you and it comes with an extra fluffy cuddle companion. “ 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ I have a cat. His name is Luke Skywhiskers and he’s fat and orange and very clingy. So if you don’t mind that — “ she shrugs her shoulders in a way that shouldn’t be nearly as cute as it is. 

Billy isn’t particularly fond of cats, then again he’s never really had a lot to do with any cats. Never being allowed to have any pet because they’re “dirty” and “cost a shit ton of money” according to Neil, Billy was never given the chance to really bond with an animal.

But then again, everything was better than going home.

“ Sounds alright. “ 

“ Okay, cool. “ 

“ Thank you, (Y/N). “ 

“ It’s no problem. Just follow my car and I’ll see you at my place then “ (Y/N) says, pats his chest and gets into her car.

As Billy get into the Camaro and  slumps down in the seat he wonders how his night managed to end like this. Bloodied and bruised and one the way to spend the night at a complete strangers house. 

A stranger who’s shown him more kindness in the last 24 hours than his dad did in the last almsot 18 years. 

Maybe tonight wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it was a solid 5. 

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Fated Ch. 1

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Hades!Bucky x Persephone!Reader

Summary: Humanity has broken the world. How they did it doesn’t matter. What does is that in doing so they quickened the old gods once more. A century later things are settling into a new order but all is not as it seems. As Fate draws two gods together the cracks begin to show in this new age. Will their bond tip the delicate balance or restore order to a broken world?

Warnings: Blood, death, violence

A/N: I am SO sorry this took a while to get to y’all! I was genuinely amazed at how much love the prologue got. Because of that I was petrified to let anyone down with this first chapter and was trying to rush some stuff. It just wasn’t working so I was spinning my wheels for weeks. Ultimately I just went with my gut and this came out. If you’ve read anything I’ve written you’ll know I like a good build up, so be patient these two will meet very soon. 

Also, I love me a good mood board so hopefully you don’t mind them scattered throughout this series. 

I hope y’all like this one! 

Tags are open!

You watch the sunrise over the courtyard from the roof of the main dorm. The cool morning breeze lifts some of the curls from your shoulders and you shiver just a touch at the caress. Fleetingly you think of strong fingers doing the same, how good it would feel…

Off to your left one of the rooster's crow from the livestock section. Everything would slowly awake now, interrupting your quiet reprieve. You loved the women here, really you did. But there were times you dreamed of just being able to be alone. No one asking anything of you, no one calling for aid, just… being. Gods had duties though. Mother always made that clear to you. The price they paid for their seeming immortality and power. Service.

The other gods seemed to attain some kind of satisfaction from the service they provided to humans though. You’re realizing now that you’ve never truly felt that, going through the motions day after day always feeling like you were missing something. Sighing you stand on the edge of the roof and jump the few stories to the ground below. Another day. Like hundreds before it.

You hate this feeling of imbalance that’s been growing since Danielle’s death. Her son had been sent off to the nearest House of Ares yesterday. Just five days old.

Logically you knew he would be loved and cared for, they all were. But he would also be trained to be a warrior. A life filled with training and combat and… death. The beginning and ending of all things.

It didn’t matter. Shoving your hands in the pockets of your long skirt you pass through the garden, too scared to touch anything since the apple incident. You’d even been avoiding your duties in the lab and greenhouse. Secluding yourself every moment you could. If that had happened around Mother… What exactly would she have done? What could she have done? Maybe it was normal, just some odd misdirected surge of energy… no. You knew to your marrow that wasn’t it.

“Daughter,” Mother’s voice reaches you as you turn out of the garden toward the vegetable plots. Damn.

She’s shrouded in a faint mist of power as she stands in a recently tilled plot. At her command, the freshly planted tomatoes grow up their stakes, green fruit already swelling. Life throbs around her in thick ropes of bright light. It’s beautiful. Always beautiful. Just like the other night though you smell the rot in the ground, the necessary decay to allow life to thrive…

“Morning, Mother.”

“Come,” she extends a perfectly sculpted hand to you. Another time you would have happily taken her invitation. Thrilled at the chance to create new life from, seemingly, nothing. Now you stare at it. Unable to allow yourself.

“Kore. Come,” this time it’s less a request and more an order. The shift in her tone and demeanor clear.

She is your Mother but also your superior. Honor bound to obey, your feet move without consulting your own desires and your hand clasps hers. You hate this. Hate your lack of will.

“I haven’t seen much of you these past days. You seem troubled my child,” the space between your hand's prickles with static instead of flowing with mutual power. Rather than answer you try to focus on letting the life flow through you.

“It’s nothing, Mother.”

Her grip tightens, “Look at me, darling.” You do as she asks, not because it’s a command but because of the tenderness in her tone. “I know it is hard to see them suffer. You believe it is unfair that their fate should be so fragile while we remain.”

It wasn’t all of it. Hardly scratched the surface. But you supposed it was close enough. The humans were fragile, nothing you could do for them would alter that.

“All young gods feel this pain. We continue on as they fade. But this sorrow is for someone else to bear my child.” Your eyes narrow. “We all have a place in this world. For some it’s to shelter knowledge, others to cultivate beauty, love, war. We are blessed to have been gifted with the task of nurturing life.”

The same old story. You’re not in the mood for it. Looking away you attempt to pull from her grasp, instead, she tightens her grip on your hand, so tight it almost hurts. You glare back at her.

“Do not think I don’t notice the coins you slip them, daughter. Or how you linger as they leave our realm of responsibility.” A darkness slips behind your Mother’s eyes that you don’t know you’ve ever seen before. “It’s normal for one young as you to forget her place. However, you stray too far from the path my child. This world is in a new age, we must shepherd it. Each guiding the sheep they are given, nothing more.” Silence hangs.

“Do you understand what I’m telling you, Kore? I have allowed you these follies and morose moods for some time. No more.” Her free hand gestures to the other plots, flinging a wave of power causing the plants to perk up, their crops swelling a bit at the goddesses' gift. “We shepherd life.” She releases you and steps away, her look bidding you finish making the crop grow.

Taking a deep breath you focus on the life. Low panic thrumming in the back of your mind but you do your best to ignore it. 

Life. She wants to see you do this. You must do this. The same light that flowed from her streams from you. It curls down into the soil to the roots of the plants, thrumming up the fragile stalks and filling the fruit, willing it to thrive.

“Beautiful, Kore. Beautiful.” Your eyes open and she is beaming at you. “We are blessed among the gods my darling. Be thankful.”

“Yes, Mother.” You don’t trust your own tongue to say anything else. There’s a tremor working it’s way up your spine. Deep in your gut, something hurts, aches so deep you think you may scream. Still, you force a smile.

Mother nods and begins to walk away. “I expect you in the lab in an hour, Kore.” With that, she turns, heading toward the greenhouse on the other side of the dorm.

As soon as she’s out of sight you drop to your knees and plunge your shaking hands into the soil. What is this?! Your panicked mind is spinning. Hands digging in the dark soil of their own volition, desperately. For what?

A voice in the back of your head whispers, “Give it to me.” And another wave of panic crashes into you. Have you ever felt this before? Felt this horror? This… fear? No. You couldn’t remember ever knowing fear before…

“Stop,” you say, speaking to your own body. “Please stop,” you hiss trying not to scream as you hands shovel dirt and rocks, reaching into the earth.

Closing your eyes you try to focus on the light of the life around you, this is what you were made for after all. Mother had just said it. Shepherding life. Maybe if you focused on that you could get control of your body.

It pulses around you, all these tendrils of life from the new little tomato plants. Then… just like with the apple they begin to snap. The life flowing like Ichor hot and bright out of them back into the ground.

The shock of it makes your hands stop. They cover your mouth, holding the scream in. Trembling you sit back on your ankles and stare at the dead tomato plants surrounding you, falling to dust.

Frantically you look around. Desperately hoping no one has just seen you. A bit of the panic recedes when you realize you’re alone. Just as you breathe you see a sway of skirts in the shadow cast by the dorm. Maybe it was a trick of the light but you could have sworn there was a woman there, a hood covering her face.

You bolt toward the woman. Intending to beg her silence. When you arrive on the spot there’s nothing.

A strange laugh slips from your lips as you lean into the wall. Your heart is thundering, veins glowing golden as the Ichor pumps quickly through your body.

Could gods go mad? You had seen humans suffer from it. Seeing things that weren’t there, their fragile minds breaking down. The thought fills you once more with fear, this strange new emotion. But there’s something else just beneath it, something you haven’t felt in such a long time. Excitement.

The bike roars between James’ thighs. His brother’s mocked this primitive mode of transportation, preferring to travel in more… godly ways such as just appearing or taking to the sky. James preferred sticking close to the ground, plus he liked the time alone it afforded him.

This was his favorite bike. Anthony may have mocked him but he couldn’t resist a project. The clunky Harley had been reworked, powered by one of his brothers lightening arc batteries, fitted in such a way to maintain the thunderous sound, Anthony appreciated loud things after all. The color? Bright white.

When he’d originally scoffed at the choice Anthony told him, “There’s some modern human myth about death riding a white horse and if you insist on getting around like a mortal you may as well make a statement.” That was his brother for you.

Despite it being his less than favorite color he loved how it rode, sailing over broken and brittle roadways like they were nothing. Passing through ghost town after ghost town in a flash.

His destination was just outside what was once Minneapolis. Unlike many cities in the wasteland that was the midwestern United States, those close to the Great Lakes had survived… enough.

At the very least they were healing faster than other regions. In another hundred or so years they would bear little scars of the cataclysm that brought the gods here. For now, though they sustained life better than most. That also meant they were hotbeds of unrest.

Humans were pack animals, after all, all vying for their own slice of what was left of the habitable land on the continent. Because of this, the region was riddled with war. Each faction with their Children of Ares and Athena taking the front lines. Every battle bloody until one faction was left shattered. To the winner the spoils.

While the gods usually let the humans sort themselves out, when one of their own got involved… well, it was best someone take care of it… quickly. Demi-gods who didn’t understand their place could plant distrust in the humans. Distrust could lead to an uprising, and no one had the time for that. Not to mention the more followers these half breed gods attained, the stronger they became. That benefitted no one.

He can just see the encampment on the horizon. They had been here for a while. Tents and ramshackle homes spreading out for about a mile until they hit the 20-foot walls. At a glance, they seemed to be your standard shoddy defense walls most of these settlements managed to cobble together if they lasted long enough, mainly corrugated metal and barbed wire. As he gets closer though James can see turrets, advanced for these parts, at the top. Tendrils of electricity snake up the metal encasing the wall here and there, interesting-

A blast slams into the tarmac directly in front of his bike. James reacts in an instant jerking the bike to the left, using his metal arm to steady the skid, just barely missing disaster. The bike stops and he looks back. The ground is molten hot, steaming as it cools. He sighs, this wasn’t a good sign.

“Impressive isn’t it?” A voice bellows from the direction of the wall. He turns back to see a large man, long golden strawberry hair pulled on top of his head, shoulders incredibly broad, arms like a… blacksmith. 

“I may not know my father but I seem to have inherited his affinity for weapons.” James feels his chest tighten. Heph was his favorite nephew, he loved him like a son, how could he be so reckless… like his father. Damnit.

James holds his hands up, allowing his great-nephew and the horde of people behind him to approach and surround him. As he looks at this nephew he can see bits of Hephaestus there. The eyes, the set of the shoulders, but the swagger and pompous smile makes him think of the boy’s grandfather. His blood boils. Steven may have been honest about being too busy to handle this one but Anthony… he knew exactly who’s child this was. Bastard.

“Struck speechless? I do seem to have that effect,” the crowd snickers a little in response. Very much like his grandfather.

“So, who the hell are you supposed to be?” James’ eyebrows raise at this. He studies the boy for a sign of dishonesty but he genuinely seems to not know or realize. A woman standing to the back right of the boy glances at him in shock before looking back to James, concern darkening her features.

“Why don’t you ask your friend there,” James gestures to the woman, “she seems to know exactly who I am.” She takes a half step back as the boy turns to her.

“Nate,” she hisses, “That’s the Winter fucking Soldier.” James winces at the title.

When the gods awoke it was to an earth in the grip of a monstrous man-made winter. Discombobulated and confused they lashed out at the humans and each other. No one really remembered what sparked their fight but it only lasted a few weeks before they seemed to get a hold of themselves, remembering who and what they were. It was a haze in James’ mind. 

Once in control of themselves, they ended the winter that had encapsulated the earth. Now it had been nearly a century and the only thing to bring cold to a land of perpetual spring was death. Hence the human’s title for him.

The boy looks back to James, his freckled face filled with rage and shadows. “I prefer James. Hades will also do in a pinch.” Nate sneers, “Are you the leader of these people, Nate?”

“He is our king!” A man to the back left of Nate bellows, taking a confident step forward, “And you should approach him with respect.” The man places himself between James and Nate, chin up, stance defiant. James can’t help the small smile that rises to his face.

“Ah,” he slips out of the leather jacket he wore and tosses it over the bike. The sun catches the gold banding on his left arm. “Tell me, since you’re so well versed in the matter, how should one king address another?” James grips the man’s chin in his left hand, staring intently into his eyes. Fear fills them. Staring at death was unsettling to all humans. The man whimpers and the acrid smell of piss fills his nose. “I think that’s the wrong answer.” He flings the man to the left, unharmed save for his pride.

“Do you have a place we can talk?” James has no interest in harming this boy. If he can rectify this situation without violence he will. “This doesn’t need to be a fight.”

Nate glances to the man and back to James, “I always thought you’d be bigger. Now here you are and I gotta say, it’s kind of underwhelming.” James shrugs, not taking the bait, secretly amused at the thought of what Anthony would have done had the boy said that to him.

Scratching his chin Nate looks around to his people. “Oh well,” he reaches back and plucks what seems to be an empty hilt from his waistband. With a flick a blade about two feet long unfurls and locks into place, blue tendrils of energy pulsing up it.

He roars as he takes a swing at James. Sighing, James catches the blade in his left hand, the sound of metal on metal grating. He looks at the impressive weapon, wondering where the boy was able to craft something like this.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” James says looking at his great nephew. The boy simply pulls back and takes a warrior’s stance. The crowd around them has spread out but boldly looks on. He lunges once again and James deflects, “Please, we can discuss-”

“I have nothing to say to someone like you!” Nate bellows as another blow pings off James’ arm.

His brows knit. Grabbing the blade he brings his opponent close. Growling he says, “You know nothing of me boy.” He bashes his head into his nose.

Nate stumbles back clutching at his bloody broken nose. He straightens leveling a glare at James, “I am no boy! I’m a man of some 90 years. I’ve watched as you so-called gods, build your new Olympus,” he spits blood from his mouth, wiping at the gold-tinged red coating his face. “Feigning benevolence while you feed off humanity like leaches!”

“And you think you’re better than us?” James gestures to the people surrounding them, “You think that the love of your people doesn’t make the Ichor sing in your veins, boy?!” There’s a flicker of doubt across his face and a murmur in the crowd. “Didn’t think that through did you?”

“Is that true, Nathaniel?” The woman from earlier asks, her face filled with betrayal.

“I…” Nathaniel’s mouth gapes.

“It doesn’t take a smart man to see what isn’t hidden.” James approaches him slowly, “We need humanity as they need us. We never deny that.” He can practically smell the doubt in the air, a touch of the gold seems to drain from Nathaniel’s hair. How quickly human faith can sway.

Once again James raises his hands, “Now, please, let’s talk. There’s no need for this to end poorly.”

Nathaniel lunges at him and he simply spins, kicking a leg out, sending the boy tumbling to the ground. The blade falls out of his hand but he crouches and runs for James. A well placed right hook makes Nathaniel stagger back, spitting more blood.

The woman runs to his side, “Just talk to him, darling, please.”

“No!” Nathaniel bellows pushing her roughly back. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this. For one of them,” He reaches under his shirt, pulling out what looks sort of like a gun. It’s red and gold and… Sweet Gaia. Glowing and lashing at the mouth of the barrel is lightening… Anthony’s lightning, the kind Heph uses to craft.

The shock catches James off guard. With a crack like thunder, a bolt shoots toward him. He’s almost too slow, instead of ripping a hole through his middle it tears a gash in his side.

Hitting the ground he groans, gold Ichor seeps thick and glowing from the wound, soaking into the black tee he wore and down into the dark denim. Nathaniel bellows a laugh, drunk with the power pulsing from the weapon.

“See!” He calls to his people, “I told you, the gods bleed just like men!”

“Please, don’t do this,” James feels his patience waiver.

“They even beg like them!” The boy’s eyes are wild.

“I don’t want-“ He hears the rumble of thunder. Before another bolt tears toward him, he lunges for the boy. Nathaniel moves, attempting to redirect the bolt. His grip on the gun falters, the energy pulses, as it falls from his hand it spins back on him, blasting a devastating wound through his left side.

Once the flash of light dims screams fill the air. Nathaniel hits his knees looking in shock to his left side. James swallows hard, remembering a similar wound, his left-hand flexes. Catching the boy before he falls face first to the ground he guides him to his back. His eyes are filled with tears, mouth opening and closing like a fish, shock overtaking him.

Blood pours from him, red and dark with strands of gold spinning in the pool. This wasn’t a wound a mortal survived and no matter how long-lived Nathaniel was he was… mortal.

“I’m sorry,” James says softly looking down. “You have nothing to fear Nathaniel. You fought bravely,” if not stupidly, but now wasn’t the time. He reaches into his pocket plucking an old worn gold coin from it and slipping it into the boy’s only remaining hand. “So the ferryman knows who sent you.” With that Nathaniel takes his last breath, his body, free of the Ichor that had given it such long-lived vigor shrivels.

James plucks the gun from the ground and stands slowly, clutching his side. The people are huddled together close to the gate, some sobbing, some in shock. The woman approaches tentatively, staring horrified at the wrinkled corpse before her. She doesn’t tremble though, in fact, he’s impressed by her strength. After a moment her hand rises to her mouth to catch a sob or a scream. James grabs her wrist she swallows the emotion looking up at him, defiant.

“Don’t let them see you break,” he looks over her shoulder. “Your people need you. They will need your strength once word gets around that you’ve lost him.” Her knowing eyes bore into his own. Women never feared death the same as men.

“I didn’t want this,” he doesn’t know why but it matters to him that she knows.

She glances to her fallen love then back to James, “I know.” He nods.

Releasing her he walks toward the people who seem to collectively tremble at the approach of a god of Death, “Let this be a day you remember,” his voice booms with the force only a god can produce. He gestures back to the corpse, “Death came here, and came with mercy. Hubris caused this, not The Winter Soldier,” he spits the title. “Remember, and don’t make the same mistakes.”

The woman has come up to his side, “What’s your name doll?” He asks in a normal tone.

“Adelaide,” she says straightening her back.

He looks back to the crowd, “This woman, Adelaide, will lead you forward. You will need to band together if you plan to survive.” Without another word he turns and strides back to his bike, grabbing the jacket. He doesn’t notice the hooded woman who fades away in the crowd.

He stares at the bike. Anthony knew… he knew whose son this was and he wasn’t certain he didn’t know or even give him a god-killing weapon… Disgust fills his mouth. With a roar he punches his left fist through the battery, rendering the machine useless, and stalk’s forward the earth opening at his call.

As he strides into his realm, clutching at the still bleeding wound in his side, all he can think about is blowing his youngest brother’s head off his body. Rage is something he hasn’t felt in quite some time. He has to admit, it’s a touch invigorating.

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @buckysstar @cinderellarhea @belleestbelle @nerd-without-a-cause @musical-doll-x @unabashedbookscollector @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @gotham-city-muse @egos-r-life @jewelofwinter @handplucked

#bucky x reader #Hades!bucky #Persephone!reader #marvel au #bucky barnes

[savagefm-blog]

          it  looks  like  KIM  CHUNGHA  has  stepped  off  of  their  private  jet  and  into  the  hamptons  –  oh  wait ,  that’s  actually  ARIANA  LIM  !  word  on  the  street  is  you’re  TWENTY - THREE  &  CISFEMALE ,  preferring  to  go  by  SHE / HER  pronouns .  don’t  worry ,  your  mansion  has  been  waiting  for  your  return  from  CHELSEA ,  NEW  YORK ,  so  we  do  hope  you’ll  stay  for  a  while .  it  seems  like  everyone  who  knows  you  best  loves  you  for  being  DEXTEROUS  &  POISED ,  but  god  !  your  SALACIOUS  &  VIRULENT  tendencies  can  be  such  a  turn  off .  either  way  it  goes ,  everyone  on  instagram  likes  to  associate  you  with  CARTIER  RINGS  STACKED  ON  NIMBLE  FINGERS ,  RED  WINE  STAINS  ON  WHITE  COUCHES ,  AND  DESIGNER  CLOTHES  PILED  ON  THE  FLOOR .  (  kyrie ,  22 ,  eastern ,  she / her  and  cancer  and  gore .  )

          hi  babies  !  it’s  admin  kyrie  here  ready  to  introduce  you  guys  to  my  absolute  mess  of  all  messes ,  ariana  !  please  forgive  me  for  how  late  this  intro  is  --  i’m  usually  more  prepared  than  this .  honestly ,  i  have  no  idea  why  i  named  her  that  other  than  the  fact  like  i  love  ari  as  a  nickname ,  so  there  we  have  it .  i’ve  been  REALLY  wanting  to  play  chungha  lately  (  stream  snapping  )  and  her  blonde  hair  makes  me  melt ,  so  here’s  my  lady  love  !  please  don’t  roast  me  too  bad  since  this  intro  might  get  a  little  lengthy  since  ariana  is  like  ...  brand  brand  new ,  but  i  look  forward  to  writing  and  plotting  with  everyone  and  thank  you  so  much  for  joining  ! 

BIRTH NAME : lim ah-jeong.

AMERICAN NAME : ariana lim.

PREFERRED NAME : ariana lim.

NICKNAME(S) : ari.

AGE : twenty-three.

BIRTHDATE / ZODIAC : january 10, 1996. / capricorn.

RELIGION : roman catholic ( non-practicing ).

SEXUALITY : sexually fluid.

HOMETOWN : chelsea, new york.

NATIONALITY : korean-american.

ETHNICITY : korean.

OCCUPATION : socialite and heiress.

VIRTUES : commendable, systematic, dexterous, articulate, poised, and warmhearted.

VICES : duplicitous, menacing, salacious, hedonistic, virulent, and labyrinthine.

LANGUAGE(S) : korean, english, and conversational japanese.

          since she was born on a cold, winter day in january, ariana lim has had a silver spoon in her mouth. in that hospital room were her parents: the ethereal bo-young and handsomely talented jung-sik lim were welcoming their first and only baby into the world, and the media outside were desperate to get the first glimpse of the power couple’s pride and joy. bo-young is the sole heir of a billion dollar jewelry fortune ( think swarovski or harry winston ) who was raised primarily in seoul, sk. bo-young did as expected of her, going to college so she could someday take over the family business, but considering that her grandfather was still the head of operations, bo-young could do whatever she wanted. 

          the then twenty-three year old joined an entertainment company and debuted in one of the top-watched k-dramas of that year. that was the beginning and end of bo-young’s acting career -- she found more joy in posing for advertisements and on magazine covers, so after starring as the cover star for vogue korea, bo-young’s career began to really take off. twenty-five and on top of the world, all it took was attending a single industry party for her to meet her soulmate : soccer midfielder lim jung-sik. 

          jung-sik was the object of everyone’s affection. unlike bo-young, he was born to a poor family in daegu -- the family wasn’t below the poverty line, but they were definitely living paycheck to paycheck. despite this, jung-sik’s parents made sure that their son had the opportunities that he deserved, so they paid for his soccer lessons even if meant borrowing money or taking up second jobs. the lim family owned and operated their own moderately successful restaurant, but it definitely didn’t pay all of the bills. so, jung-sik grew up with the all too common mentality that once he made his wealth, he’d reward his parents.

          after years of diligence, practice, and working at his parents’ restaurant, jung-sik finally got his big break while playing for a minor league team. a manager for the jeonbuk hyundai motors team had come to one of his games for a bit of leisure with his family, and jung-sik’s skills stood out to the manager. the two made contact after the game, and about a year after negotiations began, jung-sik made his debut on the team. jung-sik played for the team non-stop until his military service, and once he returned is when he came into contact with model and heiress park bo-young.

          bo-young and jung-sik’s relationship came under a bit of scrutiny due to how quickly the two had gotten married, just eight months after their initial meeting. their wedding was big, loud, and lavish, which was expected. the two adorned glamorous custom rings from bo-young’s family’s business and soon decided to move from seoul to new york, where bo-young had signed to img models and jung-sik transferred to the us men’s national team ( and they SUCK but it is what it is ). after a few years of living the good life, bo-young and jung-sik welcomed their baby girl, ah-jeong ‘ ariana ’ lim into the world.

          growing up, ariana was something of a handful. she has always been outspoken to the point of being rude at times, but she knew how to charm the pants off of her parents. in their eyes, she could do no wrong. due to that mentality, ariana had a way of getting away with some of the negative things that she had done during her time in school. attending some of the best schools that manhattan had to offer, ariana went to school with the children of actors/actresses, politicians, debutantes, musicians and everyone in between, so it’s safe to say that she ran in some pretty wealthy social circles.

          while she was in school, it was clear that ariana ran her school like a little tyrant, and i use that term loosely. she was mean to her classmates and nice to the administrators, often messing with other students who might have been wearing something off season. ariana saw no wrong in what she was going, as she was childish and immature during that time. she knew how to fake tears to get what she wanted and all it took was her faking those tears or mentioning all of the great things she had done ( like winning debate team championships or being the captain of her school’s varsity cheer team ) and she was given just a bit of a warning.

          after graduating from high school, ariana found herself wrapped up in a whirlwind summer romance with malaki sterling ( @malakitm ). their love was something new, something wild, and something pure. so pure, in fact, that all it took was a drunken night at a club for the two of them to become engaged. the night was wild and ridiculously overwhelming, but in the best of ways. since she wasn’t proposed to with a ring, ariana went and got malaki’s initials tattooed on her ring finger ( which she still has to this day ). so, the wedding day comes -- she’s surrounded by her best friends while she slipped into her custom gown and veil that could rival that of meghan markle’s when a close friend of the two barged into the room just as ‘ here comes the bride ’ was expected to begin and declares ‘ he’s gone ! ’ 

          ariana gets left at the alter. her wedding had been the talk of the town, she had even been featured on the cover of vogue, but here she was storming around the venue ready to punch anything she could get her hands on, and eventually sobbing in a small diner surrounded by bodyguards to protect her from the paparazzos that wanted to get a glimpse of the heartbroken girl. after she takes the trip that was supposed to be their honeymoon, ariana doesn’t immediately return home to chelsea. instead, she makes the decision to visit the family’s vacation home in southampton, which has since become something of a tradition.

          now, ariana has never been a huge fan of the country club, but her parents like the status they have while being a part of it. so, when the cat was pulled out of the bag about the harrington family, ariana was the least bit surprised. she always had a feeling that the harrington family was a little too ... out of place. so she never went out of her way to befriend the harrington children. anyways, since she originally came to the hamptons, ariana has made it her mission to come out especially since being in the hamptons works well with her socialite-esque lifestyle.

          tl;dr: ariana is a woman who has everything, almost to the point that she doesn’t know what else she could possibly want. since her break up with malaki, ariana has sworn off romantic relationships and has no interest in sparking up something with anyone, although she can be quite promiscuous at times. she’s definitely the steal your man/woman type and despite her outward appearance, the one that the media loves, ariana can at the very least be described as mean-spirited. she can be friendly when she wants to be, but for the most part she’s very sharp tongued and can be very short for no reason.

#hamptons:intro #u h.. .. . idk how i feel about this KJBKJBJKBKBJ #but it's long and i'm v sorry oainfda #i still need to do my tags #and put up a wanted connections page but !!! #tysm again to everyone who joined !!! i can't wait for tomorrow !!

[seriouslyhooked]

Capsize

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it has been a long time since I published a oneshot, but with my other two stories happening at the same time, I’ve been a little all over the place. This chapter is based on a number of prompts for more stories with Killian in the military, but there was one of you who was pretty specific. I have decided to run with that request. In this fic Killian was in the navy and he met Emma in a bar on his last night of leave. They fell in love at first sight but he had to ship back overseas the next day. Months later when he’s finally been discharged he comes back for her, and, low and behold, she has a surprise for him. I am sure you can all guess what that surprise might be. The song I am pairing with this is ‘Capsize’ by Frenship and Emily Warren. Hope you all enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Standing at the processing bay at the naval base in Washington, Killian Jones had never felt more on edge.

He was a SEAL, a fighter through and through, and a sailor with the self-composure to go into enemy territory without blinking an eye. Killian had seen war up close and personal for the past ten years, and his life had been dangerously close to ending more times than he could count, but none of it compared to this moment. Waiting for the bloody paperwork to go through so he could get on to his forever was like diving into bitter cold ocean water only to learn your air tank was running low. It was maddening and overwhelming. The time seemed endless, and it honestly felt like some kind of torture.

It shouldn’t be this difficult to get them checked out of the damn service. He’d filled out all the forms and David had too, but this woman – Captain Regina Mills – was taking her sweet time processing their request. This should be more straight forward: their tours were done, they should get to go home, but until that final stamp of approval was granted, he was still a SEAL and still beholden to rules. Until he received this confirmation he still belonged in many ways to the United States of America, and for what he had planned he needed freedom, and he needed it now.

“Well, Lieutenant Jones, Lieutenant Nolan, it seems everything is in order,” Captain Mills said, barely smiling. She was so severe and serious, but then again so were many of the other captains they’d served along the way. Killian didn’t know how they did it. He’d hate to be so rigid and conforming. It had always been the hardest part of his life as a SEAL.

“So we’re good to go then?” David asked, putting into words Killian’s own hopes while already forsaking the formality of military life. Captain Mills looked amused at the lapse, but Killian didn’t know if it was genuine or not.

“You are. You have both officially been honorably discharged from the United States Navy. We appreciate your service.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” they said in complete synchronization, saluting the captain, even if their time was done, before turning and walking out back into the balmy summer day.  

“I can’t believe we finally did it, man – it’s all over,” David exclaimed, his grin as happy as Killian had ever seen it. “Sure you don’t want to go back for another round?”

The question from David was clearly a joke. The only reason David had even served another tour at all was because he needed a bit more money for the ‘castle’ he was aiming to buy his high school sweetheart, Mary Margaret. The two of them were already married, and at their last check in back on the ship Mary Margaret had given David some news that couldn’t wait – she was pregnant. It had happened during their leave three months ago and David was the happiest man in the whole damn world.

“No. I would never do that now. I can’t,” Killian said, his tone harsher than David deserved, but his friend took it like a champ.

“Ah right. Because you have to get the girl. Mr. ‘Marriage-Is-A-Construct’ finally found his one. God it almost brings a tear to my eyes.”

“You want to make it back to your wife in one piece, mate? Because I can arrange an alternative,” Killian said, glaring at David with his best ‘do not fuck with me’ face, which irritatingly only made David smile more.

“All right, all right I surrender. No more jokes,” David promised as he swung his duffle into the back of the truck with Killian and then got in the driver’s seat to start them on their journey home. It was too much, however, to expect silence from his friend for a whole ten hours. After all, David and Mary Margaret were a perfect couple. They were both good, and loyal, and kind, but they were also nosey and opinionated, and they never could seem to drop a topic of intrigue when they thought they were helping a friend.

“I know Emma’s different,” David said, talking over the radio Killian had tried to put on for distraction’s sake. Killian’s jaw ticked and his arms crossed over his chest, but David was undeterred. “Even if it was only one night, I know you love her.”

Killian didn’t know if it was the mention of his love that caused the slam in his chest or if it was just her name. Truth be told, the mere thought of Emma had the possibility to light up any kind of darkness. She was this impossibly remarkable thing in a world that had so little beauty or hope. She’d been a life raft for Killian when he didn’t even realize he was drowning, and an anchor when his ship was lost at sea. It defied explanation. A complete stranger that he met in a bar shouldn’t be able to affect him like that, but one smile from Emma – along with one silken, throaty chuckle when she found his ‘charm’ to be over the top – had trapped him. He was hers from the very start, and leaving her the next day had been the worst damn pain he’d ever known.

“If you know then why do you keep going on about it?”

“Because I want you to admit it,” David said with a laugh. “And because I’m damn well entitled. You gave me hell when I found Mary Margaret. HELL. It’s my turn to do the same.”

“I don’t care what you do to me, David. I only care that I find her.”

This announcement prompted a bellowing laugh from David, an honest to goodness laugh that shook his friend so much Killian almost wondered if he’d pull over the car to keep from crashing. It was so loud that it startled Killian, and he watched as tears streamed down his friend’s face and he wiped them away, still laughing. Finally David got himself together enough to motion to the glove compartment. Killian assumed he wanted tissues or a Xanax or something, since he was clearly unhinged, but instead there was a file with a name – Emma Swan.

“You didn’t really think I’d let us retire without already having found her for you did you?” David asked, laughter still teasing at the corner of his eyes as he shook his head at the very idea.

“But how did you – when did you -,”

“I borrowed a computer while you were in your one-on-one,” David said with a shrug. “Then I paid a new recruit to drop what I found off in the truck once it all printed.

“You borrowed it?” Killian echoed. “Or you commandeered it?”

“Eh, same thing. It took a minute, but I found her. Hell I got everything about her that I could, including the fact that she’s still there. She never left Boston.”

“She didn’t?” Killian said, shocked to find that out. During their night together, Emma had confessed that she was a runner. She preferred a life of constant moving, and she’d already been in the city for a few months. She was planning to leave within the week, now he had to wonder what had changed her mind?

“Nope. She moved to a new apartment though. Probably for the best you didn’t mail those letters. She didn’t list a forwarding address with the post office.”

The mention of the letters that Killian had written every day for the past few months was slightly embarrassing. He had thought he was discrete enough to not have drawn anyone’s attention, but when he considered it, it made sense that David would put the pieces together. There was no one in Killian’s life from outside of the military, so there was no real reason for him to be writing anyone. A few times they’d been out on mission, with barely any time for sleep and Killian had tried to write a few lines in secret, but he supposed that would be the kind of thing David would hone in on. Especially since he was so fixated on Killian’s potential future.

“You realize you’re going to have to stop digging like this now that we’re out in the real world again, right?”

“Hmm,” David said, in what Killian had come to learn was a far from affirmative answer. “So you gonna read it, or just stare at it a while?”

“I don’t know,” Killian answered honestly.

On the one hand he wanted to know every last detail of Emma’s life, but on the other hand it felt wrong to learn it this way. What he wanted most of all was time with her, because time would allow them the chance to grow the connection that had formed in an instant months before. Reading this would take away some of that magic, and Killian was torn about what he should do. Should he give in to his craving to know her? Or should he wait and hope that she’d let him in enough to see all that lay beneath the surface?

“Just open it.”

Killian complied with David’s request and he found two things at the top of the pile: a recent picture of Emma and her new address. Perfect.

“I figured you might not actually want the other stuff, so I condensed what was needed right on top.”

“And the rest of this is just what? Blank pages?”

“Nope,” David said before chuckling to himself as he continued to watch the road. “Those are Mary Margaret’s contribution.”

Curiosity got the better of Killian and he flipped through to see that David’s wife had, quite literally, gone off the deep end with this compilation. Page after page was filled with ideas and requests and hopes for Killian and Emma. There were recommendations for the perfect first date, anniversary ideas, potential wedding venues, and even a list of the top 100 most underrated baby names. There was enough here to map out an entire life for Killian and Emma, or at least the next fifty or so years.

“I’m sorry, are these retirement villages?” Killian asked, his shock and dismay no doubt evident from his tone.

“Yeah I told her that might be a bit much,” David replied. Killian turned to his friend and arched a brow as if to silently say that every damn part of this was ‘a bit much.’ “But it made her happy, and with the baby coming, I couldn’t very well say no, could I?”

“You two are unbelievable,” Killian said, shaking his head even as laughter built in his chest. He supposed it could be worse after all: his friends could be trying to stop him from pursuing this. They could judge him for caring as much about Emma as he did so swiftly. But no, David and Mary Margaret were completely on board with all of his plans, and they clearly had ideas of their own that they were only too glad to offer.

“It was going to be thicker, but then I told her you already had a ring and so she cut back.”

The mention of the ring he had in his pocket prompted Killian to pull it out. There was no point hiding it, not when David already knew all about it, and he wanted to see it again. It was his grandmother’s ring once upon a time, passed down to his mother and then to him. The center stone was an opulent sapphire, and the surrounding diamonds sparkled in the sunlight. It was elegant and classic, a cut above what the average SEAL could afford, but where Killian knew it was objectively beautiful, he doubted any ring could be worthy of Emma.

“So when do you think you’ll ask her?” David questioned, breaking Killian’s trance.

“When she’s ready,” Killian responded resolutely.

“Can you wait that long?” Good question.

“I can damn well try.”

For the rest of the long hours up the coast, Killian continued to think on what exactly the future might look like with Emma, especially when they were first reunited. In his heart, he knew that the connection they shared had to mean something. It was too sure and too strong, even if it was only one night, for this to be some fleeting, one time thing. In fact, Killian couldn’t conceive of it as anything but a life-long love, but getting Emma to see that may very well be a battle. He’d been gone for months and they’d left things hanging in that time.

They hadn’t spoken since the morning that he headed back to the ship, much to Killian’s dismay, and he didn’t know if Emma would be open to him now even though his heart had always been wherever she was. He might have to prove himself to her, but though it would be hard, Killian was ready. Whatever it took to have Emma in his life, he would do. If there were trials that needed facing or paces he was put through to show how serious he was, he was fine with that. The only thing he wouldn’t negotiate on was when to find her again. He had to see her as soon as he could, and he was so desperate to lay eyes on her again that he asked David to drop him off at Emma’s place instead of his own.

“I already had it in the GPS,” David said gleefully. “And don’t worry. Mary Margaret and I will hold onto your stuff until you’re ready.”

Killian thanked David and soon after that they pulled up before her apartment. But it wasn’t until he was out of the car and David’s red truck was heading down the street that Killian considered how big a step this was. Showing up at her door out of the blue was a risk to be sure. Would it scare her away? Was he making a mistake? Killian didn’t know, but he couldn’t keep himself from trying all the same. He made his way to her door, glad that a neighbor was heading out at the same time that he was trying to get inside. He moved up the stairs to the floor where Emma’s address claimed she’d be, and then he was there, standing at her front door, and at the precipice of the rest of his life. He hesitated only a moment before knocking soundly.

Though it only took a few more seconds for the door to swing open, it felt damn near a lifetime to Killian. Waiting even a little bit felt like more than he could bear after countless nights spent wishing he was with her again. But in the moment when he saw Emma, standing there before him looking just as beautiful as in his dreams, he finally felt like he was home again. Nothing had been right or made sense without her, and it didn’t matter to Killian that that feeling was crazy. He didn’t need time to know what was right for him, and Emma Swan was everything that could possibly be right in the world.

“Killian, when did you… I mean how did you…” her words trailed off as her eyes filled with tears as her hands reached out for him. “You came back.”

It seemed that she couldn’t believe her eyes in this moment, and like her relief was overwhelming her. His heart clutched tightly in his chest at the sight of her tears. God he wished he’d found a way to know where she was all this time. He never dreamed that she’d be worried for him or missing him as badly as he missed her, but her expression was undeniable. As deep as he was in his love for her, Emma was feeling just as much, and she’d faced his months away with probably just as much pain and sorrow as he had.

“Aye, love, I did. I’m home now - home for good – and I’m not going anywhere.”

Not without you. He left those words unsaid, but no sooner had he made his promise to stay than she was leaping into his arms, hugging him in a way that lacked reserve or any kind of hiding. The feel of her in his arms was all too much and yet not enough, and so he pulled back only to kiss her and revel in the feeling of tasting the woman he loved again. It had been touch and go before, but he’d made it, and he’d be a damn fool if he let another second go by without showing her how much she meant to him.

“I can’t lie, Swan, it makes me damn glad that you’re not pushing me away right now,” he said when they came back up for air and Emma pulled him inside her apartment, keeping hold of him as she shut the door and then led him inside.

“I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again,” Emma confessed, her eyes casting downwards. A heartbreaking sadness returned to her features and it struck Killian so forcefully that he would give anything to ease her suffering. Killian brought his hand to cup her cheek, and she looked back up at him before continuing on. “I was so scared for you. I know we only had one night together, but -,”

“But it was a hell of a night,” he whispered causing Emma to smile and shake her head even though he knew that she agreed. She’d told him at their first meeting that he was cocky and that she wasn’t into guys with huge egos, but soon enough she’d realized that for Killian it was all in jest. He might play the suave, collected type, but underneath he was just a man, a man who loved her more than anything. “Look, Emma, I promised you when we met that I’d be honest and so I think there’s something I should tell you.”

“I have something to tell you too,” Emma said, sounding a bit panicked, but Killian only shook his head and brought her hands up to kiss one by one.

“Let me say this first love, before I lose my nerve. I know to everyone else it probably seems like we barely know each other. They’ll say that there’s no way to be certain, or that one night is too soon to fall this hard and this surely, but I know differently. I know that you’re the best woman I’ve ever met, that you’re brilliant, and beautiful, and perfect,  and I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know every other part of what makes you you.”

Killian watched as his words washed over Emma, and the restlessness that she’d exhibited moments ago melted away. She looked desperate to hear everything and the more he said the happier she became. She was holding back still, not letting herself totally cave to hope quite yet, but he was certain that despite everything, she was ready to hear all that he felt.

“I love you, Emma. I think it started the very moment I saw you, but in one night you ran away with my heart completely. Leaving you…” his voice broke from the emotion and only Emma’s hands running over him in silent pleading could keep him on the track of his confession. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and all I could think while I was gone was that I had to get back to you. Truth be told, you saved me out there, Emma, more times than I care to admit. Knowing you were here, knowing our story had only just begun, it was enough to get me through. And I know you probably don’t feel the same quite yet. I know it’s crazy, and maybe you need time but -,”

“I don’t,” Emma said, interrupting his nervous babbling. “I don’t need time. I feel the same way.”

“You do?” Killian asked, elated as his arms tightened around her and Emma nodded, happy tears forming as she smiled up at him. Still he needed to hear it. He was desperate for those three little words, and she must have known it because she offered them up so beautifully.

“I love you, Killian. And I’m really, really glad you love me too, because that night brought us more than just each other.”

“I know, Swan. It brought a beginning, a happy beginning that we’re starting right now. I want all of it with you Emma. Dating, living together, marriage, the works. I want to start a family together, Swan, the kind neither of us ever had,” her eyes grew wide at how quickly he was going, and he laughed, knowing she wasn’t going to run even if he had stunned her. “But more than anything I want a life – our life together. I just want what you want, whatever that might be.”

“Well about that… there’s some parts of your dream that have kind of already started,” Emma said, bringing his hand over her stomach where he noticed a small bump that hadn’t been there before. It took a moment, but when he realized what she was saying his throat closed up and his own eyes grew misty. Could this really be his life? Could he really be this lucky?

“You’re pregnant?” Killian whispered in awe and Emma nodded, prompting him to pull her in for another kiss.

The celebration in this embrace was tangible as their hands roamed and the two of them arched for closeness. His need for Emma gripped at him like a fever, and he couldn’t wrap his head around just how wonderful this news was. Whatever came next, he would thank God every day of his life that he had the chance at all of this with Emma. He would never deserve her, but he would work day in and day out to be better for her and for their family. Somehow he’d be enough for her and for them, but first there was something he needed her to know.

“We’re getting married,” Killian proclaimed as they broke apart from the kiss.

“We are?” Emma asked, looking amused through the lust and love that colored her green eyes.

“Yes. You can have whatever you want for a wedding, Swan. I’ll make you’re every dream come true, but you will marry me.”

“You’re not even going to ask?” Emma said with a laugh and Killian shook his head.

“Can’t risk you saying no,” he said, as if that were explanation enough, but then he pulled the ring he’d been carrying with him from his back pocket and he slipped it on her finger.

“Well you may not be asking, but my answer is the same,” Emma said, grinning wildly as she looked from her new ring back up to him. “Yes, Killian Jones, I will marry you.”

And with that promise, the two of them started their wonderful new life together, knowing that while their story might be unusual, it was as beautiful and unique as their love was for each other.

………………

Up at night I'm awake cause it haunts me That I never got to say what I wanted Oh my God, oh my God I’m not the same as I was with you I would jump out my skin just to get you Oh my God, oh my God How could you have ever known If I never let it show, now I just wanna know are you?

I'm fine Drop tears in the morning Give in to the lonely Here it comes with no warning I capsize, I'm first in the water Too close to the bottom I'm right back where I started Said I'm fine

Your silhouette is burned in my memory Rubble left from the moment that you left me Oh my God, oh my God And three words have never come easy Cause you're more than they ever could be Oh my God, oh my God How could you have ever known If I never let it show, now I just wanna know are you?

I'm fine Drop tears in the morning Give in to the lonely Here it comes with no warning I capsize, I'm first in the water Too close to the bottom I'm right back where I started Said I'm fine

I'm swimming up against the tide Oh my god I'm swimming but I'm getting tired Oh my god I'm swimming up against the tide Oh my god I'm swimming but I'm getting tired Oh my god

I'm fine Drop tears in the morning Give in to the lonely Here it comes with no warning I capsize, I'm first in the water Too close to the bottom I'm right back where I started Said I'm fine

I think about you, love you, and I'm filled with pride

Post-Note: So after so much time away from the mixtape I am really glad to get to put this out there. I had all of these lofty goals of trying to get through all of my prompts during my summer vacation… oh how naïve I have been. Between two other multi-chapters, my summer research, and the fact that my awesome readers sent me another ten prompts since summer started, I haven’t made the actual progress that I wanted. That being said, more will be coming (it will take a while again, sorry guys) and I want to thank you all for reading and I hope that you enjoyed!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181

#captain swan #captain swan fic #capain swan au #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs ff #cs au #cs fluff #cs smut #emma swan #killian jones #ouat au #captain swan mixtape #cs mixtape #the captain swan mixtape #sailor killian #navy SEAL killian #capsize #david and mary margaret

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Christmas At The Bunker

(Sam Winchester/Female Reader)

Characters:

·       Dean

·       Sam

·       Castiel

·       Jack

·       Female Reader

“Guys, let’s decorate the bunker!” You suggest happily to the other less festive hunters.

Dean grumbles at the thought of what he thinks is a “pointless holiday.”

“Oh, come on Dean, you have to let me decorate, please?” You whine to the oldest Winchester.

“Oh no you don’t, don’t look at me with Sam’s puppy dog eyes,” Dean said.

You mentally thanked Chuck that you hung around Sam a lot and were able to master his puppy dog eyes. Granted, you followed Sam around so much because of your embarrassing crush on him that you would never tell anyone about, but you were glad that he seemed to like having you around.

“Sam!” Dean yelled to his younger brother, who soon appeared in the room you and Dean were in.

“What’s up, Dean?” He asked with a concerned look on his face before a smile found its way on his lips as he looked at you.

“Did you teach (Y/N) your puppy dog look?” Dean asked.

“Hey, don’t blame me if she learned the way to get you to do anything,” Sam said, winking at you and Dean groaned in frustration.

“Fine, we can do Christmas as long as it doesn’t interfere with our hunts, okay?” Dean breaks and gives in to decorating.

“Yay! You cheer and run off to find Jack to tell him the good news.

“Jack, Jack, we did it, he said yes!” You tell the newest member of the Winchester clan.

“Oh (Y/N) that’s wonderful!” Jack said, just as excited as you about the good news.

You hug quickly before you begin to plan out all the decorations you needed to buy.

Jack was curious about this holiday, especially since all you seemed to talk about was Christmas. The lights, the tree, the presents, all sounded so exciting to Jack that he was easily persuaded into the festivities.

Very quietly, you steal the keys of the Impala that were on the counter in the Bunker and race outside. When you get closer to Baby, you stop abruptly when you notice Sam leaning against the driver side door.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” He asks, not impressed by your plans.

“We…were going Christmas shopping.” You admitted.

“And you decided to take the Impala, why?” Sam continued to press you for more information.

“Because Dean never lets me drive her.” You say.

“Like hell I do,” Dean says, announcing himself near the vehicle.

All he had to do was look at you and you knew exactly what he wanted of you; the keys. You gave in, reluctantly, and matched Jack’s frown on his face with your own.

“No one drives Baby but me. Is that clear?” Dean said, looking to you and Jack, making sure you both understood his rule.

You nod in unison before Dean added, “I’ll drive you two to where ever you need to go.”

You could tell it was bothering him like crazy but smiled as he lightened up, somewhat. Soon, Castiel joined you all as he said he heard all the commotion from inside the Bunker and he wanted to know more.

“Fine, fine, alright, everyone get in,” Dean grumbled once again and you, Jack, and Cas all pile in the backseat and Sam and Dean took the driver and passenger seats.

Baby roars to life and Dean throws her into drive, speeding away from the Bunker as fast as she could. The sound of classic rock playing from the stereo as the sight of the city nearing closer and closer.

Dean finds a parking spot right outside a small boutique that was lined with lights and Christmas music playing outside on the street. Everyone piled out of the car and into the small store. Your face lit up in excitement as you took in all the Christmas decorations that were for sale. Grabbing a shopping cart, you were to load everything up, piling the cart high didn’t take too long. You grabbed a tree, lights, garland, ornaments, stockings, more lights, candy, stickers, and of course, more lights.

“Okay, I think we got everything.” You say as you unload everything on the counter to check out.

“Oh my God (Y/N)! I didn’t know you were going to get this much crap!” Dean said as he took in the sight in front of him on the counter.

You look up at Dean with a sheepish grin, shrug your shoulders, and watch in anticipation as the cashier rings everything up.

“Two fifty-five, forty-two.” The cashier said.

“Whoa, no way in hell am I paying for this!” Dean protested.

“Relax Dean, you’re not paying for this at all. In fact, (Y/N), Jack and Cas chipped in some money. Since you were the only one opposed to the idea of decorating the Bunker, we didn’t ask you.” Sam explained.

By the look on Dean’s face, he was trying to process everything but, in the end, he had no say as everyone else paid the bill. Grabbing all the bags and Christmas tree box, you loaded the now empty trunk of Baby and tied the box on the roof. Dean drove everyone back to the Bunker and upon arrival, you and Jack ran inside with as many of the bags you could carry and began throwing decorations all over the Bunker.

A few hours had passed and according to Dean, it looked like a “freaking Christmas movie threw up in here.” Christmas music was playing from the old record player Sam found a while back and had set up for everyone to use. He said records sounded better than any modern CD or streaming service ever could try to make.

“Would anyone like some eggnog?” Cas asked, coming from the kitchen with glasses of the off-white substance.

“Ooo, yes!” You cheer, standing up from the bottom of the tree you were decorating.

“What is eggnog?” Jack asked.

“The best thing you’ll ever drink!” You yell in enthusiasm, handing a glass to Jack. He stared at the drink for a minute before taking a sip and you could instantly see his delight; he liked it.

You all continued to decorate the Bunker; even Dean helped out. Looking over to Sam, you smiled to yourself as his tongue slightly peaked its way out as he concentrated on wrapping tinsel around the tree.

“Need help?” You ask, walking over to him.

He stops and looks up to you from his crouched position. “Yeah actually, I could use your opinion. How does this look?” He asks.

“It looks fine to me, except.” You straighten out the tinsel and laid it around perfectly. “There.”

“Wow (Y/N) that looks great. You’re good at this.” Sam complimented you to which your cheeks heated up.

“Thank you, Sam. I’ve been decorating since I was a little girl with my family so it comes naturally.” You explain.

Sam just looked at you as you spoke, focusing on the way your lips moved.

“Sam?” You ask, bringing back to your conversation.

“What?” He asked.

“I said, are you ready to move on to the lights outside?”

“Oh yeah, sure.” He grabbed the boxes of lights and walked outside, with you and a ladder following his lead. Walking outside, you set the ladder up handing Sam the lights as he asked for them. Your attention fell to his midsection where his shirt would sneak up and reveal his tummy.

“(Y/N)!” He yelled at you.

“Huh?” You snap out of your trance to look up at him.

“I said, I need more lights. Can you hand me a new strand?”

“Oh, y-yeah.” You bend down and grab some new lights for him and look up to see him staring at you intensely.

“What’s that Cas?” You pretend to hear him call you so you could quickly leave. “I have to go.” And with that, you darted off in the Bunker.

“Huh, I was right. You do have a thing for Sammy.” Dean said, your eyes darted open to see him.

Wha-what? Psshhht, no, I, what? No, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” You stutter, clearly denying any and all feelings for Sam.

“I saw the way you were checking him out, out there as he was putting up those lights. And he was staring at your ass when you bent down to hand him more lights. It’s pretty obvious you two like each other, however, Sammy can be clueless to this kind of thing.” Dean explained.

“So, what do I do?” You ask.

“You leave it to me. I’ll have a talk with Sam, just go about your business and I’ll handle everything. You two would be cute together.” Dean said.

You smiled and hugged him quickly before he went outside to talk to Sam. You watched as he approached his younger brother and as Sam climbed down the ladder.  Taking a deep breath, you met up with Cas and Jack who were finishing the tree.

“Looking really good guys.” You said.

“Would you like some cookies (Y/N)?” Cas asked.

“I would love some.” You say and follow him in the kitchen.

You, Cas and Jack were hard at work making all different kinds of Christmas cookies, that you didn’t even hear Sam and Dean come back in the Bunker.

“Hey (Y/N) can I talk to you a minute?” Sam asked you as you were washing raw cookie dough off your hands.

“Sure, Sam.” You answer him and follow him into the library. This seemed to be Sam’s choice of place to get some thinking done.

“What’s up Sammy?” You ask.

“I like you (Y/N) and I mean way more than a friend. I’ve always liked you, ever since you came to hunt with us a year ago but I kept it to myself because Dean said it wasn’t good for hunters to be in relationships. Something about our judgment being off or…..I don’t know but I don’t care at this point. I just want to be with you. I want to be the one you fight side by side with, the one you call when you can’t sleep, to hold you when you’re sad, to hold your hair when you get sick, to cuddle with and watch movies with, be everything you need me to be. I just…..I can’t keep ignoring my feelings.” He finishes with a big sigh.

You keep quiet, not too sure what to do, so Sam did the next best thing he knew to do. He walked to you, grabbed your face with both his large hands and brought your lips to his. You bend your back since he’s so tall and he’s hunched over to reach you; neither one seemed to mind the discomfort. That is until he brought his arms down to your legs and he hoisted you up so you were the same height as him, allowing the easiest of access. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and in the heat of the moment, you didn’t hear Cas walk in.

“Oh, s-sorry. I-I’ll just l-leave….” He stumbled on his words and quickly left the room, allowing you and Sam to just laugh.

“So, do we do this?” He asked you, looking down at you again.

“A relationship?” You ask.

“Yes, exclusively too. The hand-holding, public displays of affection, very protective of one another, chick flick moments.” He lists.

“So pretty much anything to annoy Dean?” You say.

He laughs and says, “exactly. I’m all in. Are you?” He asks.

You respond by leaning on your tip-toes and place your lips to his once more.

“Yes, a thousand time yes. I love you, Sam Winchester.” You say.

“And I love you (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). Merry Christmas.”

#Sam Winchester #Jared Padalecki #SPNFamily

[da5haexowin]

A Smile and A Gun// Part 3

Pairing: mob!tom and oc (Allison Carter)Word count: 3,911 Summary: The death of Tony Bellotina has left many people in varying states of grief and shock. Allison, Harrison, and Tom are all still coming to grips with losing their mentor, all the while trying to keep control over the mob empire and find out who is loyal, and who needs to be eliminated. A/N: Some cursing, (Tom and Allison both drop an F-bomb, but that’s it,) and sorry it isn’t much on the action front, hopefully the character development is good though. Hopefully part 4 will be a bit more exciting, it’s currently in the works and may take a bit longer than this one has.

    The service was good. There were lots of people there; both mob related partners, and honest working people, like Albert, who never had any idea what Tony really did. Tony was a people person. It didn’t matter who you were, he’d give you a shot.  I sat between Tom and Harrison, and I cried a lot, quietly leaning on each of them as they wrapped an arm around my shoulder and whispered softly to me. Harrison cried too. He grabbed my hand, and held it tightly, and I could feel it shake as he tried to gather himself. I don’t know how he did it, but Tom never openly cried during the actual service. He sat: his jaw clenched and his eyes red, and he’d look away, scowling and sucking on his teeth angrily, but I never saw a tear fall from his eyes.  Once it was over, and Tony had been buried, Tom had stayed at the grave. I left him there, alone with his thoughts, and pulled Harrison with me. Together, we gently herded everyone inside, trying to give Tom as much privacy as we could.

    “He was like a father to Tom,” I explain to another business man that had worked with Tony.  “They were very close,” Harrison says with a pained smile to the little old lady that Tony had helped after her husband died, leaving her penniless. “He’ll be fine, he just needs a minute,” I assure the priest who gave the eulogy. “Tom didn’t really get a chance to say goodbye,” Harrison tells one of the other mourners, helping them to sit down.  Gradually, everyone leaves; offering their condolences and telling us to let Tom know how sorry they are.

           I sigh as I sit down, and rest my elbows on the table, my face in my hands. I’ve cried more than I ever have in my life, and I’ve faked more smiles than I did at my high school graduation. I groan as I rub my eyes, trying to make the swirling mass of faces that still clog my vision dissipate.  A hand gently touches my shoulder and I lean back to find Harrison, holding a mug, with steam billowing out of it.

           “Tea.” He explains gently as he sits down next to me, “Drink something.”

    I smile gratefully, and take it from him. “Thank you.” I take a sip, and sigh again.

    “I guess I never realized how many people Tony really touched.” Harrison admitted. “I knew how he worked, of course, and I knew what he did. I just never knew how- how-…”

    “Generous he really was?” I offer, leaning back in my chair.

    Harrison nods. “Did you know that he helped build the rehab center in New Canton?”

    I shake my head, “Or how he paid for that nun’s nephew to go to college after her sister died?”

    Harrison sighs again. “Yeah.” He looks out the window, and I see his shoulders slump. “He hasn’t moved at all.” He whispers.

    I follow his gaze out the window, and sure enough, there’s Tom: frozen exactly as we left him. He stares at the name engraved on the headstone, one hand stuffed tightly in his pocket, and the other holding a box underneath of it.

    “Do you think he has any idea how long it’s been?” I ask gently.

    “No.” Harrison says, “I think he’s still trying to sort things out.” He glances around to make sure we’re alone before he continues. “He’s been under a lot of pressure the past few days. A few of the boys have left, said they were there to work for men, not kids. We still aren’t sure who the mole was, or who else there might be. He’s trying to be tough about it all, but I think it’s been really hard on him.”

    I shake my head. “Of course it is. His only mentor is gone completely, and now he doesn’t really have anyone to turn to. Except for you.”

    “And you.” Harrison says with a nod. “He asked you to side up for a reason, Allie. He trusts you, always has. And right now, that’s what he needs.”

    I snort. “Sure it is. He just wanted to get me where he can keep control over me, before someone else offered up something better.”

    Harrison shakes his head. “Trust me on this one. That is not why you’re here. You’re here because he needs you. He needs you more than me. He needs other people that Tony cared about, because he knows they’ll be more willing to help him out when he needs it. And you loved Tony, you said today he was like an uncle to you. So why wouldn’t you stick up for the next one?”

    I shake my head again. “Sure, Haz.” I look out the window at Tom, and sigh, mulling things over. Maybe Harrison is serious. Maybe he isn’t. But either way, I don’t think I can just up and leave now. I know I technically can’t since I’ve sided up. But I’m not sure that I even want to now. Tom and Harrison are giving me a chance at something that I’ve never really had before, and that makes me both nervous, and very excited. “So what if you’re right?” I ask suddenly, surprising even myself, “What if I’m actually here because he needs someone like Tony?”

    “Then I think he needs you right now.” Harrison answers quickly. “I think he needs someone he can be human with.”

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

    I step outside, and sigh as I step towards Tom’s stone figure. I step quietly up next to him, and gently touch his elbow. He jumps and pulls away, blinking at me like he’s just woken up.

    “Allie,” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. “Hey. I uh, I just needed a few minutes.”

    I nod, deciding it’s better not to tell him how long it’s really been. “Yeah.” I turn to face the headstone, my hand still on Tom’s elbow. I’m just about to ask if he wants to come inside when he speaks up.

    “Tony didn’t leave everything to me.” He admits, shifting the box out from under his arm, “He left you a few things too.”

    I stare at the box as he hands it to me. With shaking hands, I open it. I smile as I recognize the blue triangle that was the American flag that sat on the shelf behind his desk every time he met with me in his office.

    “Funny thing is, I never really thought of Tony as a patriot until he met you.” Tom admitted, looking at the flag as I traced my finger over one of the stars, “Then you came and just sort of set something off. He started talking about his home; just to me, I think, but he told me he wasn’t really from New York.”

    I smile, “He was from Ohio.” I agree, remembering how he would always light up when I brought him buckeye candies at Christmas, and all the little stories that he would tell me, then wince and tell me:

           “Don’t tell that to anyone. Ever. Ohio thing.”

           Tom nods. “He wanted to go home, I think. I think he missed it more than he wanted to admit.”

    I nod, looking back at the box, my hand wrapped around another piece of fabric, this one also carefully folded, but tied with ribbon to a book, and a wooden spoon, a note pinned to the fabric.

    My mother’s cookbook, apron, and spoon. These belong to the best chef I know.

    “Flip that note over.” Tom says with half of a sad smile.

    That’s Allison Carter. Just in case there was any confusion.

    I laugh a little, fighting back tears as I close the box. “Thank you, Tom.”

    We stand in silence for a while longer, nothing but the birds making a noise. I frown as the wind picks up, the slight breeze stirring the trees, and I glance at Tom from the corner of my eye. The sight of his face in that moment slashes me to the core like a searing knife. Tears stream silently down his face, and he shakes slightly as he tries to fight them back. I turn to face him, placing a hand on his arm as I do so. He gasps and looks at me, his face shattered and broken.

    “Oh Tom,” I whisper and set the box down as he hangs his head, reaching his hand up to his eyes to wipe the tears away, “Tom…” He steps closer to me, and I hold both of his arms gently as he rests his forehead on my shoulder, sobbing and resting his hands on my hips. He cries for a long time, and I shift my arms so that they’re wrapped around him, the fingers of one hand gently playing with the hair at the back of his neck. I close my eyes, and a few tears of my own leak out, but not as many as Tom, who’s been holding back for days.

    He lets out a shuttering gasp, and looks up, resting his chin on my shoulder now, instead of his forehead. “He’s gone, and I know it wasn’t a heart attack.” He hiccups, “Someone poisoned him, Als, and I’m gonna find out who.”  I turn my head so that my ear is resting against him, and I rub my thumb in circles on the back of his neck, not saying anything. “They’re gonna pay. I’ll make them regret this; I swear to God, they’re gonna fucking pay.”

    I sigh as he buries his face against my hair, my mind whirling. I know that Tom’s ripped up about Tony; he looked up to Tony like no one else has ever been admired. I also know that he learned a lot from the older boss, a lot of things that only people in Tony’s position of power would know. Tom’s always had good instincts, and with Tony’s help, he became very, very good at picking up on when someone is lying to him, or when something isn’t quite right. If Tom thinks that Tony was poisoned, I’m willing to bet that he has sound reason or a strong gut feeling about it. This isn’t just denial over the loss of his mentor. I have my own gut feeling about that.

    I nod a little, and turn my head, so that our cheeks are resting against each other. “I’ll help you, Tom.” I whisper, “With all of it. I promise.”

    We stand together for a few more minutes, as he gains control again, his trembling body gradually steadying again and his breathing slowing down. Finally, he sighs and shifts, pulling out of the hug. He stoops and picks up the box, offering it to me, and keeping a hand on me.

    “Let’s go inside.” He says, “Harrison and I will drive you home.” We walk back inside, arms wrapped around each other, reminding ourselves that we aren’t alone in this mess.

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

    I sigh as I walk over to Table One, the cookbook Tony left me in hand and the apron tied on, replacing my normal black one. It’s noon on my last day of freedom before Stahr’s men arrive to shadow me, and I’ve decided that I can afford to take a day to just sit and read, not really talking to anyone. I had planned to stay in my flat all morning, after opening the restaurant up, but no amount of music could distract me from the thoughts of yesterday, and I found myself staring at my coffee table, trying not to see Tom’s shattered face or feel his warm tears against my neck. After trying several different books and all of the CD’s I own, I came to the conclusion that maybe it would be better for me to come downstairs.  So far, it seems to be working. A few people have smiled and waved sadly at me, but none of them have said more than a few words to me, and the only thing keeping me from opening the cookbook is the note in my hand; that had been pinned to the apron. I groan inwardly and set it aside, shaking my head. Just as I’m about to open the book however, a small cough stops me, and I look up.

    “Dennis,” I say, smiling a little to the younger man that stands in front of me, “how are you? I can go get McKenzie, if you like.” I say, offering to fetch his girlfriend.

    Dennis shakes his head, sending his mop of black hair flopping, “N-no thank you, Ms. Carter, Ma’am. I’m, I’m actually here to see you.” He stutters, his dark eyes flashing around the room quickly.

    I frown for an instant, then wave my hand to the seat across from me. “I’m flattered. Have a seat.”

           He nods, and I carefully look him over as he takes a seat. I haven’t really spent a lot of time around Dennis, to be perfectly honest. He’s dating McKenzie, who’s one of my waitresses and who works “the back” for me from time to time, when larger shipments come through. Dennis is around nineteen, with long black hair that he’s constantly flicking out of his eyes. He’s tall and rather skinny, and I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen him without his black leather jacket on. Perhaps his most defining feature, however, is his incredibly pale skin. I’m not kidding when I say that he makes fresh snow look like it’s been marched over by a herd of elephants. The contrast of his skin and hair make his eyes seem black, when in reality, they’re dark brown. While he’s usually quite pale, I can’t help but notice how remarkably paler he seems now, giving his face an almost gray-ish tinge.  Aside from when he comes to get McKenzie, I’ve only seen him twice, when I paid him to help out with a few shipments.

    “What can I do for you, Mr. Costello?” I ask, offering him a concerned smile. “I hope you don’t mind me saying it, but you don’t look so good.”

    The boy licks his lips nervously and shakes his head. “’Kenzie told me about your last shipment.” He says, eyeing me carefully, “And I read in the paper about Tony Bellotina dying, that was who the shipment was supposed to go to, wasn’t it?”

    I glance around quickly, before leaning on the table. “I hope she hasn’t told anyone else, Dennis.” I say, “That could be very bad for her.”

    Dennis shakes his head quickly, “No ma’am,” He assures me, “Just me, I swear just me. I was just wondering, with Mr. Holland taking over, did you still owe a lot of money for the botched shipment?”

    I weigh my options very carefully before I speak. Dennis was recommended to me by another smuggler, one that I work well with. I know the boy is generally very tight lipped, and tends to keep his nose out of trouble well.  “Yes.” I finally say.

    Dennis swallows and pulls out a beaten envelope, pushing it across the table. “Here,” he mutters quickly, “Use this to pay him off. I know I helped unload it when it got here, and you’ve helped me out with finding work a few times, I feel bad that you owe for something that wasn’t really your fault, you know? I just think you should get some help too, you know? Since you’ve helped me and all, I’ll help you and--”

    I put up a hand, stopping the jolting ramble in its tracks, “Dennis, wait. While that’s very kind, and I appreciate it, it’s not necessary. I already paid Mr. Holland for it.”

    Dennis swallows, and I can see his Adam’s apple bob as he shakes his head again, pushing the envelope insistently at me. “Please take it, Mrs. Carter.” For the first time since he’s come in, his eyes meet mine. “As an apology.”

    I smile and shake my head. “Dennis, you don’t need to--”

    “I’m the one who took it to Steven.” Dennis’s eyes drop away from mine and his hands fall under the table. “I didn’t want to do it, honest I didn’t. But see, ’Kenzie told me about this guy that had come to her on her way home one night, told her that he’d pay her triple what you were giving her if she could get it mixed up, see?”  I catch my jaw clenching as I listen to him, and it takes a great deal of focus to keep a neutral expression as he continues. “And she told me that she’d split it with me if I helped her. So she helped load it that night, and then went home. But I went and knocked out the guy who was supposed to drive the lead truck, and I took his keys. And then, I told the others that Tony had changed the meeting place, and I took them to where Steven had told us to meet up. And we unloaded into their cars, and they gave me the money, and I took it home to ’Kenz, and she split it up with me. And then I felt awful about it.  She spent all of her’s and I was going to use mine to pay rent, but I can’t, and I knew you’d owe Mr. Bellotina money, and so I thought…” He shrugs and trails off. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Carter, ma’am. I really am.”   

    I sigh and say nothing for a few minutes. So now I know who the mole is. At least that’s one less problem for Tom and I to worry about, but now I have a new problem: getting rid of her.

    “Well, thank you for your honesty and integrity, Mr. Costello.” I say, giving him a sloppy grin, “And I’m sorry that your girlfriend dragged you into all of this.” I push the envelope to him again. “As for the money, I really don’t need it. What I do need, is to hire you.”

    Dennis’s eyes widen. “M-Mrs. Carter?”

    “I need someone like you to be working on all of my shipments.” I explain. “I need you to keep an eye on things for me, and I need you to do it very carefully. I think you can do that, can’t you?”

    “Yes ma’am. I think so, I can.”

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

    “Mrs. Carter?”

    I look up and smile, a little, but not as much as usual. “Yes, Miss Walker. Come in.”

    McKenzie walks in, a confused grin on her face. “Is something the matter, Mrs. Carter?”

    I stand, and walk around my desk, waving a hand to the chair, indicating that she take a seat, saying nothing. I cross my arms, and smile at her. “Can I ask you a question, McKenzie? How often do you tell your boyfriend about work?” I put a hand up and stop her answer before she gets started. “And not the regular part of it. The “back” of the restaurant.” McKenzie’s face drops a little and she opens her mouth. I hold up a finger and shake my head with a little smirk. “Now, granted, I’ve seen Dennis’s resume. He’s not unfamiliar with the business, so it isn’t much of a problem this time around. I just know that this is an easy habit to get into, and a hard one to get out of.”

    “I-I know.” She stutters, looking down. “I just, just need someone to, to talk to.”

    I nod. “I’m sure, I’m sure. I just think that in this case, a bit of tight lipped privacy is best.” I sigh and put my hands in my pocket. “You are lucky though.”

    “I’m sorry?” McKenzie leans forward, looking confused, “Because …Dennis is …involved?”

    I chuckle and run my tongue over my teeth. “No. You’re lucky that I’m as fond of second chances as I am. Because if I weren’t,” I pause and pull Tom’s gun out of my apron pocket, toying with the handle as I do. “we’d be having a much different conversation right now, McKenzie.”

    McKenzie swallows hard, blinking, “I don’t know what you mean.”

    I walk back around my desk, setting the gun on it, and leaning forward. “I mean that if you ever sell out on me, and fuck up another shipment again, you’d better hope that whatever they were offering you was worth it, because it’s all you’ll have left.” I growl.

    McKenzie sits, frozen to the chair, her knuckles turning white on the armrests and her jaw clenched.

    “And if you try to duck out on me, I swear to you, I will have a headhunter in every country who will be looking for you. Do I make myself clear, Miss Walker?”

    “Perfectly.”

    I stand up, and straighten my apron, smiling pleasantly. “Excellent. Now, Table Thirteen will be ready for their drinks by now, won’t they?”

    “Yes, ma’am.” McKenzie stands, and steps quickly out of the room.

    I smirk as I sit down, picking up the gun. I spin it around my finger as I prop my feet up on my desk. I wink at the picture of Tony that sits on my desk. “Tommy was right, Tony. The gun is helpful to have around.”

    I sit up, and finally open the cookbook. Tucked inside the front cover is a folded piece of paper. I frown as I pick it up, gingerly unfolding it. My heart stops as I recognize Tony’s handwriting scrawled across the page.  I take a shaky breath as I start to read it.

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

Let me know what you think, and message me if you want to be put on the taglist! I love getting feedback, and I want this to be something you guys enjoy, so be honest about it.

Taglist: @toms-order @littlevelvethearts @supernaturallyholland

#my writing #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #mob!tom #mob au #mob!tom au #mob!harrison #harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #short story #writing #aus #late night writing #oc #writer's block #allison carter #a smile and a gun #fan fiction #fan fic writing

[lilacskyent-blog]

Breakfast with Alex Wex

People have a million opinions and false facts about the digital world we live in today, and even more about social media. For a lot of people, they use platforms like Instagram and Twitter to follow celebrities, and some use it to bully celebrities. Most forget that that connection can also be used for good. We live in a world of amazing accessibility and, when used properly, could foster a wonderful connection between people. A prime example of this is the Will Smith Jump event that took the internet by storm, that all started with a video message. It’s incredible what can happen when you reach out to people. That was the main thought in my mind before sitting down with Alex Wex yesterday. Alex Wex is an amazing Twitch streamer, and until recently, was a producer for FBE and REACT on Youtube. As of this interview, Alex Wex has fostered a wonderful community through Twitch and Discord known as the Jank Squad, and recently broke his view count record at 210 viewers for his birthday stream, also hitting close to 600 subscribers. Given that I was in Atlanta and he was in LA we couldn’t actually meet for breakfast like I usually do so we had an amazing video chat instead.

So for starters, I just want to thank you for sitting down with me. I’ve been following your work since I first saw you on FBE and I think you’re an awesome dude so thanks. I wanna start at the very beginning because I’m really interested in your story. So, I know you went to high school in Atlanta, GA. What can you tell me about that?

I was actually born in Manhattan, my family moved to Atlanta around pre-K and I lived there up until I graduated from Riverwood High School. All my friends wanted to go to UGA or Georgia Tech but I was really interested in traveling and branching out, so I went to Ohio for college, and now I live in L.A. I made some truly amazing friends in Atlanta, and having this kind of east coast, south culture mixture has made life pretty interesting.

When did you know you wanted to work in entertainment, and what led to you becoming a producer?

When I was a kid, my family liked to record family videos, and I always wanted to see the recording. I had the eye for production pretty early. Once I started high school I got involved in performing, did Grease, The Wiz, and a few other school plays that got me interested in the performance aspect as well. In college, I majored in video production with a minor in film and sociology so I gained real knowledge of the art that happens behind the camera.

How does one go from school in Atlanta to working at FBE?

As I mentioned before I went to college at Ohio University, what got me was their video production department. I actually still work with the head of the department and speak to the alumni when they come here, advising them on some dos and don'ts. As a graduation gift, my Dad gave me an all expense paid trip to anywhere I wanted to go in the U.S for a few days and I chose L.A. So I was here, hanging out with my current roommate Johnny and we just decided to come out here permanently and live the dream. So I packed up my car and drove from Atlanta to LA and started looking for internships while working at Chipotle.I first joined FBE as an intern, then got hired as a PA and eventually was a writer for some of their scripted shows, and I worked my way up until I was offered the producer position. I loved producing because that involved every aspect of working behind the camera, from writing to filming to editing and seeing the baby from birth to fully grown. Being in front of the camera came back when FBE launched the community team and started streaming on Twitch.

Watching Alex grow on YouTube, putting reactors in hilarious challenges, eat crazy concoctions and brave some insane hot sauces that would make Sean Evans proud, his personality radiates through the screen. His passion for both sides of the camera is clear in the quality of every video he makes. However, taking part in one of his Twitch streams gives you an even more full experience. It’s like the difference between a teaser trailer and a full film.

Freddy or Jason?

Freddy is my favorite in Dead By Daylight but I love Jason, in fact, Friday the 13th was the first game I ever streamed. I’d have to say, Jason.

So, we were in high school in the baby years of YouTube, I mostly used it for music videos and anime, I think back then I only followed Phil Defranco and Timothy Delaghetto consistently. Back then, did you ever look at YouTube and think “this is going to revolutionize the world and turn traditional media on its head?”

Yeah, it’s changed everything. Almost every network has a YouTube channel now. Late night shows and things like SNL upload segments that get massive amounts of views. YouTube is still growing, testing out its premium service and channel enrollment and things like that, but it’s exciting to see where it’s going to end up.

It’s even crazier when you think about how much Twitch has already changed the game.

Definitely, I mean we’ve seen what happens when some of the top YouTube creators come over to Twitch and realize that it’s completely different from what they’re used to. It’s more like an improv radio show, you have to be on for two or three hours and avoid dead air, rather than being able to edit something together. It’s hard to be constantly entertaining when you're used to delivering a finished edit rather than a live audience. For example, Logan Paul had over 100,000 people in his first stream but after that, the numbers dropped just cause that’s not his world. Live Streaming is a constant conversation. It’s the opposite of YouTube.

I remember seeing YouTubers flood to Twitch after the adpocalypse and feeling like it made no sense. A lot of vloggers and creators who never expressed any interest in video games were all suddenly obsessed with Fortnite. However, when people like Alex Wex came to Twitch they brought genuine love of gaming, skill, and a great sense of community.

What insight can you give into the world of a producer? Especially on the internet, how to figure out what videos are gonna get views or go viral?

It’s a case by case basis depending on what you make. With Challenge Chalice, we made it during the high point of internet challenges and we had consistent challenges to make content with constantly, but this past year challenges have kinda quieted down so that got more difficult. We revisited and revised a lot of earlier challenges to make them more interesting, and that has to do with being present during every step of the process. You can’t slack off on anything, from script to editing. Being organized is key, and definitely take on the ideas and criticisms of the people working with you. Be flexible and open-minded. It’s not about balance, it’s about harmony.

3 Breakfast must haves?

Bacon

Grits

Belgian Waffles are incredible

Hack-n-slash? RPG? Or FPS? And why?

That’s complicated. Overwatch is one of my favorite games but it doesn’t play exactly like an FPS. For me, hack-n-slash for games like Dead Cells, Rogue Lights, I love games with massive replay value. I’m playing Diablo 3 on switch right now and I love it.

What games are best for streaming? Does the game you play matter?

A little, but it shouldn’t be everything. You want your audience to gravitate towards your personality. Never play something you don’t enjoy playing. I love Overwatch and it’s not one of the current hot stream games but I love playing it. Story games are complicated. If people miss parts of story mode games they tune it out cause they won’t know what’s going on. More than anything put your own spin on what you’re doing. For example, when I do Dead By Daylight I do stream vs chat where my chat helps the survivors escape if I’m playing the killer. In fact, chatting streams are starting to really blow up. It’s more about the person playing than the game they play.

What game has you hype for 2019?

That’s tough, but probably Kingdom Hearts 3. I’m excited for Smash Bros for my last game of 2018 too.

What led you to Twitch?

I’d seen some of it, but Tom had been doing it for 6 months and kept suggesting it until one day I finally did. I had a decent setup with an ultra-wide monitor and Tom’s old video capture device and I started streaming Dead by Daylight. We actually came into the name Jank Squad because of how janky the streams were in the beginning.

What led you to leave FBE and what are you working on now?

I wanted to focus more on my Twitch, and it was exhausting streaming at work on the days when I’m also streaming at home. I wanted to give my audience the most energy I could and be more involved with them as a community. I’m creating new ways to interact with my audience, more active in my Discord, and after working there for 5 years I felt stuck. There wasn’t any new learning experience and things felt a little sour and monotonous with the new direction things were going in. I’m actually getting a new camera and a green screen to upgrade the stream quality. I’d love to make partner with Twitch.

What’s the dream?

I take things to step by step. I’m definitely in a transition right now. I’m looking for another good full-time job at the moment. I’d love to be a full-time streamer but I’d also love to produce my own stuff and then stream after work. Streaming is probably one of the most consistent things I’ve ever done. Funny enough, that’s part of what got me into it cause Tom knew my leisure activity was video games, and streaming just takes that to another level. It definitely takes work, but the community you foster on this platform is unlike any other with the rating system and how everything is set up.

Alright so the zombie apocalypse is upon us and you can have 1 mortal character, one god tier video game character, and one Reactor in your survival squad, who you got?

Kratos from God of War 2 causes his chain blades would tear through everything, my regular would be Leon from Resident Evil 4 cause his aim is amazing and he’s used to zombies, and my Reactor would be Chelsea cause she knows so much about The Walking Dead. That’s my squad.

East Coast or West Coast

East, it’s where I was born and bred.

Top 10 songs or artists on your playlist right now?

Meek Mill- Intro with the amazing Phil Collins sample

Tyler the Creator’s Grinch is great for the holidays

The Cool-Lupe Fiasco

Chance The Rapper’s new songs

Paramore- Ain’t It Fun

You come from the same city I did with only a two year age difference, and you’re the first brown face I saw in relation to FBE and now you’re killing it on Twitch. Do you know how dope you are?

I appreciate that. I like to think I’m dope in some ways but I also do my best to keep it real, keep myself humble, and not letting the numbers get to my head. I hope everyone thinks they’re fucking awesome, cause they are. I have my good and bad days but I like to look at what has been built and keep grinding. Everyone is on a different time stream. I don’t want to rush things, I’m on my own path, and right now I just wanna build this community.

I for one, am excited to see what comes next from Alex Wex, including his stream later this week. You can find him @ItsMrWex

-Strawberry Smirk of Lilac Sky Entertainment

#twitch #fbe #stream #gaming #producer #lilacsky #alex wex #digital #media #breakfast

[dfroza]

A sacred act of rebirth means everything:

Christ’s resurrection is your resurrection too. This is why we are to yearn for all that is above, for that’s where Christ sits enthroned at the place of all power, honor, and authority! Yes, feast on all the treasures of the heavenly realm and fill your thoughts with heavenly realities, and not with the distractions of the natural realm.

Your crucifixion with Christ has severed the tie to this life, and now your true life is hidden away in God in Christ. And as Christ himself is seen for who he really is, who you really are will also be revealed, for you are now one with him in his glory!

The Letter of Colossians, Chapter 3:1-4 (The Passion Translation)

we see now, dimly, just a mirror of what is promised to be pure (Clarity)

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 3rd chapter of the Letter of Colossians:

So it comes down to this: since you have been raised with the Anointed One, the Liberating King, set your mind on heaven above. The Anointed is there, seated at God’s right hand. Stay focused on what’s above, not on earthly things, because your old life is dead and gone. Your new life is now hidden, enmeshed with the Anointed who is in God. On that day when the Anointed One—who is our very life—is revealed, you will be revealed with Him in glory! So kill your earthly impulses: loose sex, impure actions, unbridled sensuality, wicked thoughts, and greed (which is essentially idolatry). It’s because of these that God’s wrath is coming [upon the sons and daughters of disobedience], so avoid them at all costs. These are the same things you once pursued, and together you spawned a life of evil. But now make sure you shed such things: anger, rage, spite, slander, and abusive language. And don’t go on lying to each other since you have sloughed away your old skin along with its evil practices for a fresh new you, which is continually renewed in knowledge according to the image of the One who created you. In this re-creation there is no distinction between Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian and conqueror, or slave and free because the Anointed is the whole and dwells in us all.

Since you are all set apart by God, made holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with a holy way of life: compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Put up with one another. Forgive. Pardon any offenses against one another, as the Lord has pardoned you, because you should act in kind. But above all these, put on love! Love is the perfect tie to bind these together. Let your hearts fall under the rule of the Anointed’s peace (the peace you were called to as one body), and be thankful.

Let the word of the Anointed One richly inhabit your lives. With all wisdom teach, counsel, and instruct one another. Sing the psalms, compose hymns and songs inspired by the Spirit, and keep on singing—sing to God from hearts full and spilling over with thankfulness. Surely, no matter what you are doing (speaking, writing, or working), do it all in the name of Jesus our Master, sending thanks through Him to God our Father.

Wives: be submitted to your husbands as is appropriate in the Lord. Husbands: love your wives, and don’t treat them harshly or respond with bitterness toward them.

Children: obey your parents in every way. The Lord is well pleased by it. Fathers: don’t infuriate your children, so their hearts won’t harbor resentment and become discouraged. Slaves: obey your earthly masters in all things. Don’t just act earnest in your service only when they are watching. Serve with a sincere heart (even when others aren’t watching), fearing the Lord who is always watching! So no matter what your task is, work hard. Always do your best as the Lord’s servant, not as man’s, because you know your reward is the Lord’s inheritance. You serve the Lord, the Anointed One, and anyone who does wrong will be paid his due because He doesn’t play favorites.

The Letter of Colossians, Chapter 3 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 17th chapter of the book of Jeremiah about choosing whether or not to trust in the Eternal:

Eternal One: Judah’s sin is engraved on the tablets of their hearts, inscribed on the horns of their altars with an iron tool, tipped with a diamond point. Their children remember their pagan altars and the sacred poles used in idol worship beside leafy green trees on high hills. I will see that My mountain in the land, your nation’s wealth, and all your treasures will be handed over as plunder to your enemies. I will even give your pagan high places to pay the cost for the sins you committed all over Judah. You’ll let this inheritance I gave you slip through your fingers. I will make you slaves to your enemies in a land you have never known because you have stirred My anger into a roaring fire that will last forever.

Cursed is the one who trusts in human strength and the abilities of mere mortals.

His very heart strays from the Eternal.

He is like a little shrub in the desert that never grows;

he will see no good thing come his way.

He will live in a desert wasteland,

a barren land of salt where no one lives.

But blessed is the one who trusts in Me alone;

the Eternal will be his confidence.

He is like a tree planted by water,

sending out its roots beside the stream.

It does not fear the heat or even drought.

Its leaves stay green and its fruit is dependable, no matter what it faces.

The heart is most devious and incurably sick.

Who can understand it?

It is I, the Eternal One, who probes the innermost heart

and examines the innermost thoughts.

I will compensate each person justly,

according to his ways and by what his actions deserve.

Like a partridge that hatches eggs that are not hers,

so is the person who gains wealth unfairly.

In the middle of his life a fool’s money will abandon him.

In the end he, too, will be shown for what he is—a fool.

Jeremiah (to God): But from the beginning, Your throne of glory,

our holy place, has always been exalted.

O Eternal One, the hope of Israel,

all who forsake You will be put to shame.

Those who turn their backs on You will be written in the dirt,

because they have forsaken You, the spring of living water.

Heal me, O Eternal One, and I will be healed.

You alone can save me; to You alone do I sing my praise.

The scoffers keep mocking me, saying,

“Where is the word of the Eternal you keep talking about?

Why haven’t His words come to pass?”

You know I have not run from my calling—

I have been a shepherd to Your people as You commanded.

I have not secretly desired the day of disaster and sorrow.

You know everything I’ve spoken to these people,

because it was the task You’d set before me.

Do not turn and terrify me.

Be my refuge when the dreaded day of reckoning comes.

Bring shame on those who persecute me, but save me from that shame.

Bring terror on them, but save me from that terror.

Bring them to the day of disaster; shatter them, destroy them with double the destruction.

Eternal One (to Jeremiah): Go, stand at the public gate of Jerusalem, the one through which the kings of Judah come and go; then take up your post at the other gates around the city. Say to them, Listen, you kings of Judah, you people of Judah, you citizens of Jerusalem, and any who pass through these gates. Listen to the words of the Eternal; this is what He says: “For the welfare of your lives and the good of this city, be careful! Stop violating My Sabbaths by carrying your loads through Jerusalem’s gates on the Sabbath day. Do not bring your loads out of the house on that day—do not work at all on the Sabbath. Keep the Sabbath day holy as I commanded your ancestors all those years ago. But even then, they did not listen or pay attention to Me; instead, they stiffened their resolve not to listen or accept any instruction from Me.

“But if you will listen to My words and obey Me by not carrying your loads through these city gates on the Sabbath, if you will live differently on the Sabbath, differently from the rest of your week by not working on it, I promise Jerusalem will be your home forever. The family of David will always reign on his throne here. The kings and rulers of this land will pass through these gates in chariots and on horses. As for their officers, the people of Judah, and the citizens of Jerusalem, they will live securely in this city forever. People will come from Jerusalem’s surrounding villages and the towns and the regions in Judah. They will come from the territory of Benjamin, from the rolling hills in the west, from the hill country, and from the Negev wilderness. They will bring their burnt offerings and sacrifices, grain offerings, incense, and freewill offerings to the Eternal’s temple. But if you refuse to obey Me—if you continue to bring your loads though the gates of Jerusalem on the Sabbath even though I’ve separated that day as a time of rest—you will be punished. I will kindle a fire to these very gates that cannot be quenched, and all Jerusalem will burn—even her palaces.”

The Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 17 (The Voice)

to be accompanied by these lines in The Message:

“But blessed is the man who trusts me, God,

the woman who sticks with God.

They’re like trees replanted in Eden,

putting down roots near the rivers—

Never a worry through the hottest of summers,

never dropping a leaf,

Serene and calm through droughts,

bearing fresh fruit every season.

* * *

“The heart is hopelessly dark and deceitful,

a puzzle that no one can figure out.

But I, God, search the heart

and examine the mind.

I get to the heart of the human.

I get to the root of things.

I treat them as they really are,

not as they pretend to be.”

The Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 17:7-10 (The Message)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for monday, August 30 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about the “essence” of Love:

The central message of the Scriptures is to turn to God for life... Rabbi Sussya once said, "There are five verses in the bible that constitute the essence of the Torah. These verses begin in Hebrew with one of these letters: Tav (תּ), Shin (שׁ), Vav (ו), Bet (בּ), and Hey (ה), which form the word for repentance, "teshuvah" (תְּשׁובָה). The five verses are 1) Tamim tiheyeh (תָּמִים תִּהְיֶה): "Be wholehearted before God" (Deut. 18:13); 2) Shiviti Adonai (שִׁוִּיתִי יְהוָה): "I have set the LORD always before me" (Psalm 16:8); 3) Va'ahavta lere’akha (וְאָהַבְתָּ לְרֵעֲךָ): "Love your neighbor as yourself" (Lev. 19:18); 4) Bekhol derakekha (בְּכָל־דְּרָכֶיךָ): "In all your ways know Him" (Prov. 3:6); and 5) Higid lekha (הִגִּיד לְךָ): "Walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8). In other words, the way of teshuvah, of answering God’s call for you to return to Him, is to sincerely set the LORD before you, to love others, and to walk out your days in heartfelt gratitude.

In other words, "teshuvah" (repentance) is an acronym that stands for being whole, seeing God, loving others, knowing God in all your journey, and walking in humility... [Hebrew for Christians]

and another about this week’s Torah reading:

Our Torah reading for this week, parashat Nitzavim (פרשת ניצבים), is always read on the Sabbath before Rosh Hashanah, serving as a prelude to the holiday. The sages found an allusion to Rosh Hashanah in the opening verse: "You are standing today all of you before the LORD your God" (Deut. 29:10), where "this day" refers to Rosh Hashanah, when "all of you" shall stand before the LORD your God in judgment. The "last" shofar blast refers to Rosh Hashanah when the dead shall be raised (Rosh Hashanah 16b), whereas the "great" shofar blast is sounded at the end of Yom Kippur, after Israel has received the atonement.

Rosh Hashanah has long been associated with the Day of Judgment (יום הדין) in Jewish tradition. According to many of the sages, the time immediately preceding the appearance of the Messiah will be a time of testing (nisayon) in which the world will undergo various forms of tribulation called chevlei Mashiach (חֶבְלֵי הַמָּשִׁיחַ) - the "birth pangs of the Messiah" (Sanhedrin 98a; Ketubot, Bereshit Rabbah 42:4, Matt. 24:8). Some say the birth pangs are to last for 70 years, with the last 7 years being the most intense period of tribulation -- called the "Time of Jacob's Trouble" / עֵת־צָרָה הִיא לְיַעֲקב (Jer. 30:7). The climax of the Great Tribulation is called the great "Day of the LORD" (יוֹם־יהוה הַגָּדוֹל) which represents God's wrath poured out upon a rebellious world system. On this fateful day, the LORD will terribly shake the entire earth (Isa. 2:19) and worldwide catastrophes will occur. "For the great day of their wrath has come, and who can stand?" (Rev. 6:17). The prophet Malachi likewise says: "Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and that day that is coming will set them on fire,' says the LORD Almighty. 'Not a root or a branch will be left to them'" (Mal. 4:1). Only after the nations of the world have been judged will the kingdom of God (מַלְכוּת הָאֱלהִים) be established upon the earth. The remnant of Israel will be saved and the 1,000 year reign of King Messiah will then commence (Rev. 20:4). For more information, see "As the Day Draws Near" (find link below). [Hebrew for Christians]

8.30.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

August 30, 2021

Showing the Way of Salvation

“The same [a demon-possessed servant girl] followed Paul and us, and cried, saying, These men are the servants of the most high God, which shew unto us the way of salvation.” (Acts 16:17)

Paul and Luke first witnessed to European unbelievers in Philippi and saw them wonderfully converted (v. 14), but a young “soothsayer” continually interrupted them, mocking and interfering. Paul cast out the controlling spirit of divination (v. 18), denying her owners their source of income. In retribution, they convinced the city leaders to have them brutally flogged and thrown into the innermost prison (v. 24).

But God had other plans. A mighty earthquake seemingly freed them, causing the jailer to prefer suicide rather than face capital charges for his “offense.” Paul intervened, and the jailer desperately pled, “What must I do to be saved?” (v. 30).

What would cause a Roman official in a decidedly pagan culture, who had heard little (if anything) of the truth, to abruptly turn to God for salvation? Certainly the earthquake had captured his attention, as had Paul’s behavior through his trial and abuse, but what made him think the truth was with Paul? Why did he ask for salvation from an incarcerated prisoner?

Perhaps during the trial he had heard of the slave girl’s testimony. In our text she had exclaimed, “These men are the servants of the most high God, which shew unto us the way of salvation.” Was this ringing testimony, given in derision but heard nonetheless, involved in his decision?

We can’t know for sure, but we do know that this was the introduction of the gospel to Europe. Surely God’s ultimate plan can be seen in the events at Philippi that day. Even the unknowing truth from a demonic soothsayer contained lasting truth. Christians should never hesitate to declare gospel truth, for God will not allow it to go unheeded (Isaiah 55:11). JDM

A tweeted question mark (?) by illumiNations:

@IlluminationsBT: DID YOU KNOW...some languages have evolved so much over the years that the most recent Bible translation in their language is longer easily understood. illumiNations also works to bring revised Bibles that are understood by today's people.

8.30.21 • 12:03pm • Twitter

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: Yu Yu Hakusho, Day 10, Episodes 71-72

Call this the day of a million short updates, I guess. Sorry, I stayed up way too late last night, and I’m having trouble focusing for extended periods of time. And I’ve got work in the afternoon/evening, so this is the last chance I’ll have today to update. But hey, I still got 7 episodes worth out of it, so that’s something, right?

Spirit Detective, on the Case!

For all the lip service paid to the idea of Yusuke being a spirit detective, it feels like he’s been more consistently used as Koenma’s personal hitman, so it’s nice for him and his gang to have a legitimate mystery to uncover. As the city is slowly consumed by demon insects, Team Yurameshi must track down the psychic who is opening the tunnel, and the people who serve him, relying on the new psychics who are popping up thanks to the released energy to help guide them. And now that they’ve caught their first glimpse of who I’ve decided to call Discount Chrollo (seriously, that stupid head gem reminds me so much of the Phantom Troupe’s leader), we’ve got a legitimate manhunt on our hands. And it seems they’ll have to battle through 7 colorful antagonists to reach him. Let’s go.

Hi Again, Mao

Speaking of those new psychics, the first one they come across is a mind reader who “agrees” to help them after Yusuke outwits his powers by hiding the fact that his punches pack a shockwave behind them. And the way he describes his powers greatly reminds me of Mao from Code Geass: a constant stream in other people’s thoughts runs through his head, and he can never shut it off. It’s no wonder he wants nothing to do with these guys; he just wants to be left to his own ambitions and figure out this weird power by himself, but now Yusuke and the rest have got him tangled up in their life-or-death scenario. And if a pencil eraser launched like a bullet can come close to killing him, who knows what else he’ll have to face.

Odds and Ends

-Oh god why is he keeping Elder Toguro’s head in a fish tank

-Woah, Hiei’s in B-Class with Toguro? That dragon really kicked him up a notch.

-Buuuut he’s still a brat. Might we get some Hiei sauce this arc?

-”We’re sleeping in this freaky house? I didn’t even bring my special pillow!” asdjhsad Kuwabara

-MORE SHIZURU HELL YES

-The poor wait staff

-”I swear, we’ve caught every red light” big mood, Keiko. Big mood.

7 foes to take down. First up? The Doctor. See you on Saturday for that, when I’, substantially more rested!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #yu yu hakusho #yuu yuu hakusho

[all-sortsa-stuff]

Natural

Pairing: Eventually Klaus Michaelson x Reader

Word Count: 2477

Warning: Language, talk of depression

A/N:  A witch loses her parents and is trying to make sense of her much altered world. What happens when she meets the vampires of Mystic Falls and New Orleans?

 “How far from Mystic Falls are you?” Your sister was checking on you for the second time since you left Salem.

“About forty-five minutes. You know I am perfectly capable of driving ten hours.  I’m a rather good driver; I even stopped to fill up my own gas tank.”  The sarcasm would not be lost on her.  There was a drawn out sigh from her on the other end.

“I know.  But I am allowed to worry about you, you know. You are all I have left and I will be really pissed if I have to clean out your bedroom after you die.  That closest alone probably has something that would devour me whole.”  A giggle escaped as you continued down one of the back roads in Virginia.

“Not in the closet.  I would stay out of my greenhouse though.” Since the death of your parents, you and your sister were the only ones left of you family.  Yes, there were cousins and probably a distant great aunt or something but no one close.  Just you and Scarlet.  Your big sister worried over damn near everything now.  While it was nice to be living in the same house again it got old when she checked up on you multiple times a day.  In time you hoped she would calm down a bit and give you space to breathe. It had been about six months since their murder and Scarlet had not eased up one bit.

“I try and stay away from that place as much as possible.  I don’t want to kill anything in there.”

“I appreciate that.  I don’t know how the Gods could have created a witch that kills any plant she touches.  I mean I feel like it’s sin against nature at the very least.”  

“Hey maybe it’s my super power or whatever.”  Knowing your sister as well as you did you knew there was an eye roll in there.

“That is a really shitty super power.  You know if you actually let me teach you some better spells or something you wouldn’t have such an issue with magic.”  

“No I’m good.  I like the almost magic free life I live thank you.” Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. There had always been some resentment from your big sister regarding magic.  By blood, she was your half-sister and had never been as powerful as you or your mother.  Growing up it had caused issues until the day when Scarlet decided that she was completely done with it all.  She only tolerated it now because you two lived together in your parents’ old house.

“Whatever you want, Scar. I am going to go I want to enjoy the rest of this drive before I drop this stuff off.”

“Fine, just please be careful.”  Just another time she wanted to take the motherly tone with you.

“I will.  I will call you later.”  Ending the phone call quickly, you did not want her to start in on something else.  You loved her, she was your big sister but damn she was trying to suffocate you.  It was one of the reasons why you wanted to take the road trip to deliver the orders yourself instead of sending them through the mail as you usually did.

You grew plants, flowers, and herbs to sell to mostly witches and covens throughout the world. Many of the items you grew were rare and it made it easy for you customers to find them.  The money was decent and you loved what you did. Working with your hands and digging in the earth made you feel connected to everything.  Today you were delivering an order to Sheila Bennett in Mystic Falls. She was a loyal customer, as she had known your family for many years.

Finally, driving into town after the long trip, dusk was falling, cooling the air.  It felt even better in your opened cover Jeep.  The center of town was alive with all the lights and people.  It was a peaceful looking town.  The feel of it all was refreshing compared to Salem.  Maybe you just needed to get away from home for a few days.  The last six months had taken its toll on you.  You were worn down and exhausted all the time. It was affecting your everyday life.

Sheila’s house was ten minutes from downtown and before you knew it you were walking up to knock on the front door.  A beautiful girl opened the door with an inquisitive look.  “May I help you?”

“Hi, I’m here to drop off an order for Sheila.  Is she home?” The girl raised a brow for a moment before turning back into the house.

“Grams, someone is here about an ‘order’.”  You could hear from somewhere in the house Sheila’s voice as you stood with yours hands clasped behind your back.

“An order?  All right I’m coming.”  As soon as she saw you standing, at the door a wide grin broke across her face.  “[Y/N] Avery! Child what are you doing here? Give me a hug.”

Her embrace was comforting, as she held tight.  “I can’t believe you are here.  I did not expect personal delivery service.”  You laughed as she pulled back to look at you.

“I know.  But I wanted to get away for a little while and thought this would be a perfect time.  I’ve filled all my big orders and the smaller ones have been put on hold for now.” Sheila cupped your cheek looking you over carefully.

“Honey, you look tired. You should use some of your own herbs and make something to help you sleep.”  You sighed before shaking your head.

“Too many nightmares. Every time I close my eyes… But that isn’t why I’m here.  I will grab your stuff from my Jeep.”  Wanting to avoid that conversation as much as possible, you turned back to the vehicle and the two boxes that were belted safely in the backseat.

“Bonnie help her, there shouldn’t be too much.”  The girl followed you out towards your Jeep, waiting patiently next to you as you unstrapped everything.

“I’m Bonnie, by the way.” You smiled over at her as you handed her the lighter of the two boxes.

“[Y/N].  Nice to meet you.”  Taking the second box, you headed back to the house.

“What is all this?”

“I grow herbs and other plants.  I sell mostly to witches who use it for their spells and practices.”

“Oh so you are a witch too?” Nodding, you entered the house.

“Yes, I’m a witch too.” Sheila motioned for you to set the boxes on the table.

“[Y/N] comes from a long line of witches just like us.  Her mother was a very powerful practitioner.”  She rubbed your back as a grandmother would.  “Now my girl what do I owe you for the personal delivery?”

“Nothing.  You already paid for everything.”  Her brow raised mirroring Bonnie’s from earlier.  

“Seriously. Nothing.  I just wanted to get out of town for a few days and was coming down this direction anyway.”

“How about if you are around tomorrow you come have dinner with us.  You can have a home cooked meal and we can catch up.” Hugging her tightly you agreed.

“That sounds wonderful.”

 Once you had left the Bennet’s, you found the little bed and breakfast you had registered at online. It was a quaint little place you could see having a honeymoon at someday.  However, that would require a significant other of some sort.  Your plan was to stay there for three or four days to explore the town and perhaps the surrounding area.  Maybe a bit of hiking and shopping before you headed home.  You had not told your sister yet and you knew it was not going to go over well.

A little after nine pm your phone rang signaling it was time to let her know just that.

“You can’t be serious? You aren’t coming home tomorrow?” The ‘mom voice’ was in full effect.

“I am taking a few days for myself Scar.  I need it. A change of scenery and peace.  I am a mess and I can’t take it anymore.” There was a pause from her before the sigh.  No doubt, she had a lot to say but she refrained from saying it.

“Okay…”

“Okay? Really? Just okay? No demanding I return home this instant? Who cast a spell on my sister?”  Her quiet laugh sounded in your ear.

“[Y/N], I love you. You are right about everything you said. Get out of town for a while and see what the rest of the world looks like.  I can’t keep you all to myself without hurting you further.  I thought I could make you better but you are right. You’re a mess and you need to the time to fix yourself.  Just be safe please.”  The defeat in her voice hurt.

“Scarlet, it’s not like I am not going to go home.  I just…”

“I know [Y/N/N].  Take the time sweetie.  You need it.  Look call me tomorrow or whenever you want.  I will back off, I promise.  Let you be yourself.  Love you.” The call disconnected before you had the chance to respond.  You thought you had hid your depression and exhaustion better.  Obviously, you had not and people were seeing through the front. The guilt that swelled inside of you made your stomach turn.  No other being should have to take on the chaos that swirled around within you every moment.  Especially your sister.  She too, had to deal with the death of her parents.  

It was difficult to fight back the tears but you did it.  Swallowing them down and pushing against the darkness that tried to take over your thoughts.  The exhaustion this caused only furthered your desire to rest and find some sort of peace with the new day.  As you lay in bed trying to find comfort in the strange place a few of the errant tears streamed onto the pillow.  “Goddess please give me the strength to find what will bring back the light.”

 Your hopes had been that you would feel completely better after a good night’s sleep.  That the heaviness in your chest would no longer plague every breath you took.  It was not what would happen.  Though, you were slightly more rested, it all remained.  There was a text on your phone from Scarlet wishing you a good morning. It took a lot of will power to not call her sobbing.  You wished it would all go away.  The exhaustion, the depression… Was it too much to ask to feel human again?

Once you stood up from the bed, you took a few long deep breaths to assist with pushing on through your day.  Calling on your powers, you tried to fill yourself with light in an attempt to reenergize yourself.  Even if it was only for a short time.  As you made your way downstairs, the woman who owned the B&B met you at the base of the stairs.  “Morning Miss Avery.  I have breakfast ready and waiting in the dining room.  Would you like any coffee?”

You could smell the sugary sweetness of syrup coming from the direction of the other room. “Actually do you have any tea?”  The woman beamed at you as she nodded.

“A girl after my own heart. I have a lovely mint, chamomile and a black tea.  Which would you prefer?”

“Mint please!  Thank you so much.”  That little bit of comfort in the form of hot liquid and a pinch of sweetness, helped make the rest of your morning.  With the belly full of food and tea, you set out to explore the little town.

You knew there was a lot of history in this town just as there was in Salem.  But in Mystic Falls, there were just as many stories of vampires as there were witches.  Walking along the streets it was easy to feel the power the emanated from everything.  Perhaps before you left you would perform a ritual to see some of the old events, see what had been covered up in the history books.

Being out in the clean air helped your mood a great deal.  Paired with the tea and breakfast you had, everything did not look as dark as it felt the previous night.  By lunchtime, you were starving from all the walking.  The Mystic Grill was downtown and looked to be fairly busy.  Busy by this little town’s standards at least. You found a quiet booth off to the side of the main dining area.  It gave you the vantage to people watch around the room and private enough for you to read one of the books you had packed in your bag.

A good-looking guy, who introduced himself as Matt, came to take your order.  “What can I get you?”

“Umm how about… a burger and fries, a water and two shots of chilled tequila.”  He laughed at the combination.

“Sure thing.”  As he walked off a group walked in, talking loud and all over each other.  Bonnie was talking to another pretty girl with long dark hair.  Your eyes made contact, causing her to smile and wave. You returned them both as she told her friends she would be right back.

“Hey, [Y/N].  How goes the exploring?”

“Actually not bad. This town is beautiful and so much history.  I have had a good time.  Now I am going to eat and decide what I want to do for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe explore more, maybe nap. Who knows.”  Matt returned with your drinks as he said hello to Bonnie. Of course, everyone here knew each other.

“Oh a little liquid lunch?” She laughed as you downed one of the shots.  The cool liquid burning as it slide down.  It was wonderful.

“Nope just an appetizer.”

“I need to get back to my friends but don’t forget Grams wants you over for dinner tonight.  She said six sharp.”  

“I will be there.”  The burger was delicious and it hit the spot.  Combined with the two tequila shots you felt ten times better.  You left Matt a big tip and a wink as you waved goodbye from across the room.  As you left the Grill, you were not paying attention to where you were going and walked right into the solid chest of someone else.  Your bag fell to the group as a flurry of apologies flew from both of your lips.

“I’m so sorry…”

“I’m sorry!”  When you had the chance to look up to see who you had run into, all you could see were forest green eyes, wide with shock.

“Mary...”  Hearing the name of your mother sent your heart racing.

“How do you know my mother?”

 Part 2

tags: @feelmyroarrrr  @bolontiku  @aquabrie   @malindacath  @almondbuttercup @hellkat2  @dustycelt

#vampire diaries #the originals #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikealson imagine #klaus michaelson x reader #mystic falls #klaus fanfiction #klaus fanfic #natural #niklaus mikaelson #reader x klaus #reader x niklaus

[jay-michaels-public-relations]

Article contributed to Five Star Arts Journal by Jay Michaels

Comic Books – like their characters – have a secret identity. The mild-mannered paper and ink funnies are also the next level of Greek tragedy or Shakespearean epic.

Comic Artists – like their characters – also have a secret identity thrust upon them. Hard-working children of immigrants throughout the sixties grabbing a job in a time when such things were scarce drew fun and fantastical stories about improbable human beings … and outer planet dwellers. These progression-of-image books have – thanks to Godlike advances in cinema and the paranoia of psychiatrists throughout the fifties and sixties have become the new da Vincis and Picassos.

Sadly, like their characters, these artists were always lauded for their work. their stories are the fodder of -well- comic books.

Ditko tells the story of Steve Ditko, a comic book illustrator virtually forgotten by the masses, but celebrated by comic book fans everywhere. Chronicling his rise in the comic book industry, Ditko was instrumental in Marvel’s success by co-creating two of comics most iconic characters, Spider-Man and Doctor Strange and several of DC’s silver age icons, Hawk and Dove, Shade the Changing Man, and the Creeper. Ditko also worked for virtually every other publisher of note including Warren, Charlton, Pacific, and Eclipse, co-creating other iconic characters like Mr. A, the Question and Blue Beetle. he also created some of the 1950s most startling imagery in sci-fi and fantasy comics. ironically, Spiderman was meant to be one of those fantasy one-shot characters for a comic book called Amazing Fantasy. Stan Lee, planning to cancel the poor-selling monster book, let Ditko draw one of those far-out characters for the last issue. The rest, as they say …

The Daydream Theatre and TheatreLab NYC present DITKO, a play written & directed by Lenny Schwartz on October 1 & 2 at 7:30pm Tickets: $15 in advance at Ovationtix.com and $20 at the door the location of TheatreLab is 357 WEST 36th STREET 3RD FLOOR – NEW YORK

Some actors have the honor of playing Hamlet, Romeo & Juliet, and Lear … others have a more lofty experience. Derek Laurendeau plays Steve Ditko; Dave Almeida dons a cigar for his role as Jack Kirby; Anne Bowman plays a mystic master – no, not Doctor Strange … Ayn Rand. And Geoff White takes the elevator to the floor ABOVE Mount Olympus as Stan Lee. The avengers assembled also include Samantha Acampora, Christopher Ferreira as Jerry Robinson/Dick Giordano (talk about Marvel AND DC), Mindy Britto, Emily Lamarre, and Timothy DeLisle.

At the New York Comic Con in 2010, Stan Lee entered the stage and someone from the back of the house screamed “YOU’RE A GOD, STAN”  We asked the cast … well is he? Well, are you? And what’s it like playing Gods.

Derek Laurendeau: 

To me comic books aren’t becoming a religion, they are one. As with most religions you have practices, prayers, meditations, and most of all stories that give the moral standards and practices of them. Comic books in their own way share many of these. Many people routinely make pilgrimages to the conventions or their comic book shops to share in the collective story telling of hundreds of artists and writers. The whole community (artists, editors, writers, fans, etc.) shapes these stories. The stories give us the hope and ability to cope with the world around us. The comics are also a mythology on their own. Superheroes are god like and while the stories can be bombastic, heroic adventures at the end of it all the heroes themselves are just as human as we are and through that relatability you can gain strength to overcome any difficulties. Also like most religions there are divisions that you see when stories adapt and change. Most recently the Miles Morales Spiderman comes to mind as an example of the rift that can divide comic fans.

“I feel like we’re not playing gods. Ditko, Lee, Kirby, and Robinson were humans just like us.”

They had their flaws and faults just like anyone would have. The fans may see them as these deities, but at the end of the day they were just men and women creating from their imaginations. They created these characters not knowing what would happen. The act of creation is what they knew best and by putting the work in and giving their art every bit of energy they had they made magic happen on the pages. I feel like my responsibility to the role is to show the humanness of these great people. Yes they created heroes that will not be forgotten any time soon. But Steve Ditko, Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, and Jerry Robinson all started at the same place behind a table with nothing but an idea, paper, and something to write and draw with. The truth is anyone can do what they did as long as you have passion and are committed one hundred percent to making your destiny happen. However I do feel an extra responsibility to Ditko since very little is known of him and for a lot of people seeing the show it was the first time they had ever heard of him. So i feel a duty to do my best to represent Steve as the sure minded, smart, and talented artist he was.

Geoff White, like the characters he plays (Stan Lee) was a bit more irreverent. 

Growing up in the 60’s, I was the usual comic book kid… I occasionally grabbed a Superman or Spiderman. I’ve always had a healthy respect for the art form, but as I began college and studying theatre, my focus changed and comics faded in my life Except for my many friends who  are avid collectors. But, as an Actor, I do feel the responsibility of being true to any character I portray, but obviously playing Stan in the city, next to the Comicon is a little daunting.  Fortunately, Lenny is a true Fan and an insightful Director and I truly feel the audiences will enjoy the ride as much as we do.

Dave Almeida plays another king. Jack “King” Kirby. The man attributed to some of the greatest comic book characters of all time – who never got the respect he deserved … until after his passing. 

We the public may consider these creative writers and artists “gods”, but I would guess that they just considered themselves just “working Joes”, and getting paid for their services, just like screenwriters, journalists and commercial artists did at the time. These wonderful people gave us role models without even realizing it; role models who change the minds and hearts of a post war generation and their children.

Christopher Ferreira playing two comic book legends shared his thoughts as well.

When I was in grade school at that time, comics were the safe place where social outcast bookworms could find comfort in fantastic stories about heroes and a fantasy world.  It was ours.  Now comics are everyone’s.  Now I’m the expert who pretty girls turn to to learn about this world of mythical legend.  Now I feel like the prophets of old, leading new followers to the wonderful teachings of pulp fiction legends. I absolutely feel a strong responsibility to accurately portray such legends as Jerry Robinson and Dick Giordano.  I met Jerry twice in the later years of his life at the San Diego Comic Con and I was so blown away by his intelligence, exuberant personality and humbleness.  He did so much important work to get creators the credit and recognition they deserved.  I can only imagine how he encouraged and helped Steve Ditko in his early days of coming into the comic book industry.  Jerry was such a force in the comic book industry.  So my goal in bringing him to life again onstage in this version is to show how human of a man he was.  Comic book creators are people who care about the human race, I feel.  They write stories that show the best humanity can be.  Creating heroes that they wish we all could be.    

Anne Bowman practiced philosophizing by saying this.

What comes to mind is how comic book characters are like religious icons, known all over the world. Before I did this show I didn’t realize how often I see Spider-Man in my daily life, in many places other than TV.  For example, I went to the beach with family a few weekends ago, and my friend’s five-year-old was wearing a Spider-Man t-shirt. I told him I was in a play about the man who drew Spider-Man, and his eyes got wide. I knew Spider-Man when I was his age, too. That’s pretty incredible. 

    Emily Lamarre and Mindy Britto looked up in the sky and had this to say:

Emily Lamarre: I’ve been thinking about this all day and haven’t really found an answer for this question. I’ve been an outsider to the comic book world and through Ditko I learned that Ditko was the real creator of Spider-Man. I think with why comic books are becoming a religion as people look up to these characters because they are strong, and brave. They even may pass down the stories of these characters to their children in hopes to take the lessons and ideals that they had and use them in real life. With the creators like Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, Jerry Robinson, and Bill Finger, they created these characters and the world they live in for people to read and look up to.

Mindy Britto: To be honest, comic books are a bit of a new phenomenon for me. I feel that comic books offer an escape into another reality. Comics are always indicative of pop culture, reflecting both modern society and a new market of readers. Writers come up with religious back stories to keep the character current and provide relatability and depth. It makes sense that comic books are becoming a religion due to the complexity of the world that we live in and the desire to explore and uncover.

  =================

JAY MICHAELS, an indie film and live event producer and promotional executive, is considered an authority on comic books and horror movies. He is the host of “Terror Talk” on the burgeoning streaming station, Terror TV. Michaels, a notable presence in the world of independent theater and film as a producer and an actor, has been charting horror and science-fiction on film and television and appraising comic books and other ephemera since 1973. He is also a judge for the Boston Sci-Fi Film Festival.

  Adventure takes four colors, two staples, and one dream Article contributed to Five Star Arts Journal by Jay Michaels Comic Books - like their characters - have a secret identity.

[table--4--one]

Wondering on Wandering | Grief

I’ve always planned to write about this journey by the time it ends. I wanted to have a better perspective of what happens or has happened in retrospect, being able to see it as a whole experience rather than an in-the-moment event. However, inspiration rarely strikes and now that it has, I think I have enough perspective of certain lessons to write about.

I started 2018 by reading the book of Genesis, a beginning, and I have often referred to my resignation as a “passing through the Red Sea” moment. True enough, just like the Israelites, what was supposed to be a short journey in the wilderness has become a long one. A long journey of learning.

Wondering on Wandering is a series of what I learned so far, divided into several topics. I decided to start with grief as this was when I think it started getting challenging.

GRIEF

There’s little that I know of grief because I haven’t really had a very significant loss in my life. While I have experienced deaths in the family such as would-be siblings lost through miscarriages and my paternal grandfather passing away when I was younger, they didn’t have major effects on me. Maybe because I was still young then, or the emotional bond wasn’t really that strong to have a big effect.

This time around though, I have a better understanding and sort of a bigger part in the whole process of grieving when I lost my paternal grandmother and my maternal grandfather within the span of 2 weeks in June of last year.

My Lola Cherrie was my namesake and with that also came a lot of similarities with her. I cry easily and I stand just a few inches taller than her. I have few memories of her because we lived far away and would only see her for summer vacation or family events. What I remember most was that she and lolo would talk to me in English. I think I have more memories with her since we lived with them for several months after I was born, but of course I wouldn’t really remember that. Limited memories aside, I do have her name as mine. And I would have it for all of my life.

My Tatay (Juanito, my mom’s father) is a different story. He was a constant presence in my life and I was always around him until I left home for college when I was 15. He was my first employer. Every time he would come home from work I would remove the white hairs from his head, 25 cents a piece. Then he would take me to the store to buy ice cream or junk food with what I earned. I also spent some time in his store portioning Vetracin to sachets that he would sell. I didn’t get paid for that. His love languages were giving and acts of service. He was always very generous and he loved doing things for us. When my sister and I would stay with them back in kindergarten he would put my juice box in the freezer and wrap it in thick newspaper in the morning when I take it to school so that it will still be very cold come recess. One of my favorite drinks is guyabano juice because that’s the Zest-o flavor he would buy for me, and the fruit shake he would make for me. I lived in their house when I was in high school and he would repair my bedroom door because it creaked even if I didn’t ask (not sure if I even noticed that it did). And there were times he would knock on my door during exam week to hand me an iced cafe mocha that he made so that I can stay up late to review. He was an early riser, and upon waking up he would turn on the water heater so that it’s ready when we wake up. He taught me how to fry eggs. The times that I would go home during my first year of college I would sleep in their room in between him and Nanay. Some would say that I was the favorite apo though I don’t really think that’s true. However, I do know that I was the one they spent the most time with and that was my privilege.

From the time he had his first stroke, I have always prayed for him. He was very stubborn when it comes to the issue of faith and my prayer was always that God would not take him from us unless he has really surrendered his life to the Lord Jesus. I prayed for that for years. When his health started deteriorating in May of 2018, I prayed all the more for it. When my mom told me how he prayed on his own to thank the Lord right before he was released from the hospital and how he would share his testimony to the dialysis nurses, I cried a lot for two reasons. One, because God is always faithful and He has answered my prayer. Two, because he has answered my prayer in those circumstances, I knew it was only a matter of time before Tatay comes home to him. And within a month, two days after his birthday, Tatay went home to heaven.

His wake wasn’t a sad event. In fact, it was mostly a happy and peaceful one. As Christians we handle death differently because of the assurance of our salvation in Jesus Christ. We were sure where he was, and that was enough reason to rejoice. What caused grief was the physical parting, but we find peace in being assured that we will see him again.

The loss of both of my grandparents was not a traumatic or depressing event. I have a lot to look back to, and I didn’t have regrets. The last time I saw my Lola Cherrie alive, I prayed with her. And when I was leaving Tatay’s birthday celebration, I said goodbye to him and promised to be back. I came back when he was still being kept alive by machines. I just couldn’t bring myself to come into the ICU and see him but I kept my promise and I came back. I am very grateful to the Lord for having had these moments. And though my tears are falling as I write these, my heart is glad because I had those times with them.

But since death is a loss, grief is there. And grief has to be dealt with. For me, it had to come in bits and pieces and at a later time. When we went home from the hospital that last night (or early morning, really), I couldn’t sleep or cry much because I was monitoring my mom who was crying, and screening her calls. The next day we were tossed up in funeral arrangements. It was at times overwhelming when my mom was telling me to  do something while my tito was on the other side instructing me to do another thing. It was overwhelming and tiring and I kind of felt alone because I was the only one there. All my other cousins were still to come and these were all in my plate so grieving had to come later. I only had moments when at night I can cry for a few minutes before I slept, and then during the burial. And that was it.

The Monday that I was back in QC was when I had to start. Grief was weird for me because I didn’t feel like I was grieving my grandfather. It didn’t feel like I lost him but I did feel AT A LOSS. Like I don’t know what to do and how to move forward, what pieces to pick up and what to do next. I had quite a promising job interview prior to leaving for Marinduque and I never heard from them again even after I’ve come back. Everything was at a loss and out of my control. It was like when I came back, everything was just...gone.

My grandfather was not in my life anymore, in the physical sense. And I am not anymore living the same life that I did a few months before where everything was secure and looks put together and in proper control. And while I needed to process the grief caused by those, I also needed to move forward.

Praise God He made moving forward easier than it should because He is a constant Presence. He is always there, even in deep sorrow. And while things may seem uncertain in the wilderness, His Presence was the most sure thing. For the Israelites, they had a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night to remind them of it. As for me, I have His Word and His promises. And as long as I fix my eyes on Him I can take another step forward.

As my quiet time notes read: There will be waters in the wilderness and streams in the desert. In nothingness, there He will be. The way of the Lord is...a way of possibilities in deserts and wilderness... Be strong and do not fear, your God will come.

Isaiah 35:10 New International Version (NIV)

10     and those the Lord has rescued will return.

They will enter Zion with singing;

   everlasting joy will crown their heads.

Gladness and joy will overtake them,

   and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

#wilderness #joy #peace #death #grief #griefjourney #isaiah #jesus #god #wonderingonwandering