#radio flyer wagon

[retropopcult]

From a July 1953 photo shoot comes this color transparency, photographed by Charlotte Brooks during the Look magazine assignment "Christmas Toys’.

[getoutofthisplace]

Dear Gus & Magnus,

After work today, Magnus and I took Suki around the block while Mom worked on dinner and Gus played Mario. When we got back, Mags wanted to play in the yard, so we pushed rocks down the slide, then I pulled him up and down the sidewalk in his red wagon while he clapped his hands. Yiayia joined us for dinner and helped entertain you two while I broke the crib down and moved it back into Magnus's room -- because we were going down that road again tonight.

Dad.

Little Rock, Arkansas. 2.7.2023 - 5.50pm.

[twincitiesseen]

Radio Flyer. Stockholm, Wisconsin.

[cooterxp]

[artistmacposts]

#Chicago #bicycle #ebike Radio Flyer M880 E-Bike Test Ride on Lakefront Bike Path

[christmaswinter]

Radio flyer

[batterygarden]

Aki Hayakawa bf headcanons

m.list!!

cw: F!reader, she’s shorter than him, sliiightly suggestive moment .. MDNI

Sigh he’s… really good at being a boyfriend. He’s intimidating but sweet all at the same time.

He loves a nice passenger princess and loathes sitting beside you while you drive. Not that he doesn’t trust you, just… your technique behind the wheel has him stressed. 

“No no please don’t merge now i'm not sure if— woah, okay that was close now just— noo stop we don’t turn here! Baby do you not know the—check the — okay pull over actually! It’s okay I can drive! It’s fine, please let me drive.” 

He calls you a menace to the streets 😔 

He likes to go to concerts and house shows with you. Ugh he loves an indie punk mosh pit for sure. He doesn’t seem like he’s that into it in the moment—maybe listening with a little head nod while his hands remain secured around your waist, glaring at people who shove into you, but you can tell in the flush of his cheeks and lit up eyes that he’s thoroughly enjoying his night. 

He has the advantage of always seeing the stage with his height, something you say he takes for granted when some equally tall guy decides to stand directly in front of you. But Aki has enough audacity to nudge you both in front of any perpetrators whenever your vision is blocked.

Lest we forget… this man has no manners! To most people, Aki can be direct to the point of rudeness—his demeanor could even be described as harsh. 

Especially when it concerns his sweet little girlfriend. He doesn’t fuck around when it comes to you. He’s protective. He cares about your comfort and safety before anyone else’s and isn’t afraid to hurt feelings that aren’t yours. 

Not that he doesn’t know you can stick up for yourself—he respects your ability to handle most situations. But he also knows when you shouldn’t have to handle it yourself. If somebody at the bar won’t stop grabbing your arm and you’re uncomfortable, Aki will be the one to tell them to back the fuck off. 

If some man makes a joke about your outfit being slutty, Aki will be the one to back hand him across the face! He knows you could have done it but it’s nothing you needed to mess up your nails over. 

He’s cute in little ways you wouldn’t expect. For example, you didn’t imagine when you first met him that this 6’4” cigarette-smoking death machine was into cartoons and animation but damn!! He is. 

He’ll watch wholesome shows with you like sailor moon with the straightest face, looking bored out of his mind with his arm over your shoulder, then turn to you when it’s over like “that was delightful :)” 

He has a small trinket and keepsake collection <3. And he’s not embarrassed about it. He will shamelessly steal a little frog keychain he finds under the seat in his uber and place it on his night stand beside his miniature Radio Flyer wagon and the light blue rock you found for him. The rock supposedly looks like his eyes, he thought the gesture was cute. 

He wants to match his jewelry with yours. Lets you pick out the earrings you want and asks you to get him a pair too, sliding his credit card into your hand while he looks at watches through the glass at the store. 

He knows they’ll be nice and look good on him—he trusts your taste and style recommendations explicitly—but he also wants to match because it makes him feel more connected with you. 

He’s a touch possessive. He likes to be reminded you’re his. And he’s yours. He wants you wearing his clothes, he wants you borrowing his cologne, and he’d never admit it but he likes when you leave the house with love bites on your neck. 

Not that you mind—honestly he’s earned the right to possession after taking such good care of you all the time. 

It took you a while to get through your pretty head that Aki likes helping and caring for you. 

Like he’s into it if you’re needy… triple and quadruple texting, calling him to ask for rides, pouting if you can’t hold his hand… you make him feel valued.

But even when you’re not needy he enjoys going out of his way to make your life easier. 

He’ll do your dishes when you don’t ask, make your bed, give massages. You don’t have to mention it. 

“Noo you don’t have to do my laundry Aki, I swear. You surpassed your chore limit today like, long ago.” He’ll retrieve the towel he used to dry dishes and be like I needed to wash this anyway, I’ll just throw your stuff in the machine with it! 

He uses your claw hair clip to hold his hair back when he’s doing stuff around the house. <3

He also religiously adheres to the sidewalk rule <3

So emotionally intelligent it’s insane. This man is in therapy & it shows in his communication; he knows how to word things gently but honestly!

“It’s valid to feel that way. For sure, s’just.. I disagree that you need to go to those lengths for her when she keeps blatantly disregarding your feelings.” 

He’ll let you smoke one of his cigarettes if you’re reeally persistent but he’s always weird about it. 

“Just… wish you wouldn’t. What if you got lung cancer or something.”  “Oh yeah? Maybe I’ll catch up and I can get it the same time as you.” He’d roll his eyes. “Ha ha. Y’know it’s different when I do it.” 

“How so?” “I’m tough. and you’re not even addicted yet.”

He loves getting domestic with you! Cooking together with his phone playing quiet background music, watching a movie with you in his lap, letting you do your skin care on him. These are by far Aki’s favorite activities.

Heavy on the skincare part—Aki was blessed with perfect skin since birth so he never really put much thought into cleansers or anything, but the first time you did a facial for him was one of the best days of his life. 

You’d laid him down on your bed, straddling his waist with a towel full of products laid out next to you, and Aki said it felt like you were about to perform surgery. You wet his face with a damp cloth then, and started rubbing some mysterious soap into his skin with a touch like warm flower petals. Your hands felt so soft. When you started wiping some fruity scented blue gel over his skin after, it felt so soothing he almost moaned. The whole thing was so relaxing he had a dream about you washing his face again when he fell asleep that night. He never explicitly told you how much he loved your skincare, but you picked it up when he started asking you to do him next every time you washed your face at night.

You’re his sensitive little baby so he never goes overboard but… Aki does tease you sometimes 💔. He can’t help it—he was an older brother once, so tasteful bullying is kind of ingrained in his DNA.

Like you oversleep then almost rush out the door with an inside-out shirt and toothpaste on your chin and he instinctively says you look scrungly. There’s a pause then he apologizes. 

Or you’ll say you didn’t think pulp fiction was that insanely good of a movie and he’ll move your fresh cup of tea onto one of the really high selves only he can reach until you take it back. 

He’ll also mention it immediately if you’re ever stinky. Fresh from the gym? Forgot to put on deodorant today? Aki can tell and he will let you know. <3 He’s nice enough to accompany you in the shower though! 

denji bf hcs 1 & 2

[pizzathefox]

Feeling Nostalgic

This old 2006 Radio Flyer Wagon has been around since I can remember. Now, used for yardwork...I still can't shake the feelings it gives me. Yearning for another time that's long past.

[anoldmossyoak]

[Coffee's pressed the call button. If he can't get up to check on Oakly, well.]

[Oakly responds fairly quickly bringing in a red Radio Flyer wagon that held @thatsassyfox in it.]

Hello sir! Are you okay??? Anything I can do for you?

[They're standing at a height of 49 inches, face looking so much younger. They have a face that old ladies would want to pinch. They pushed a chair over and stood on top of it.]

[getoutofthisplace]

Dear Gus & Magnus,

Mom took Gus to the zoo today while Nene stayed home with Magnus. When I got home from work, Magnus wanted me to take him for a walk in the wagon.

Dad.

Little Rock, Arkansas. 10.28.2022 - 5.24pm.

[two-bit-socrates]

Obsidian knew what they were doing when they casted Matt Mercer as Edér knowing all the pets the player can collect.

Like I wish I could hold a pencil long enough so I can draw my party strolling throughout the Dyrwood and Edér either carrying all the animals in his arms or pulling them all in a cart OR pulling a train of them radio red flyer wagons each with an animal in it.

Edit: As I was drifting off to sleep earlier I also got the idea of the other people in my party trying to stealth through the endless paths of Od Nua and quietly trying to form a plan of attack and then my character and Edér standing in the middle of the room surrounded in support by our animal pals as one of us yells 'COME OUT AND FACE THE ANIMAL FRIEND BROTHERS IF YOU WANT AN ASS KICKING!'

Also I'm currently (possibly permanently) incapable of drawing this so if you want to commit these to paper go for it. Just let me see them. 👀

[wingless-thrush]

Impossibly Imperfect

(The following is an edited version of a personal blog originally posted on 10 May 2012.)

I lived in Asheville, North Carolina for a couple years while growing up, which is located in the mountainous western part of the state. Our neighborhood was perched on the side of Beaucatcher Mountain, and was comprised of a lot of hilly, windy streets. One particular neighborhood street was especially steep, with a sharp S-curve at the bottom of a long, straight hill. Just beyond the S-curve, the terrain dropped off dramatically into a rugged, wooded ravine. If the street had been a busier road, it would be one of those notorious stretches of highway that has a nickname like Death Hill or Blood Alley.

As it was, the street didn’t have very many houses on it and was lightly traveled by cars, so it became a favorite spot for us to play. I’d pull my red Radio Flyer wagon to the top of the hill, climb on board, and then ride at top speed down the hill, with the wind blowing in my face. The feeling of flying downhill was as ecstatic as the first big drop on a roller coaster, but was tempered with the very real danger of missing the curve, flying off the pavement, and ending up broken and bloodied at the bottom of the ravine.

The memory of flying down that hill in a Radio Flyer wagon at high speed, with a near-certain bloody and painful death at the bottom of the hill rapidly getting closer, has become somewhat of an unfortunate metaphor for my love life over the years. The whole realm of relationships and sexuality has been a very difficult one for me, and it’s not without a degree of hesitation that I write about it here.  While I do a pretty good job at maintaining close friendships with quite a few attractive women, things always seem to fall apart whenever there’s a hint of romantic feelings involved.

Part of it may have to do with the uptight Calvinist background I grew up in, where sexuality was hardly ever discussed except in the context of there apparently being far too much of it on television and in popular culture. And then there’s the fact that I was sexually abused as a child, by an older neighborhood kid who promised to allow me into his “club” if I performed certain acts down in the woods behind the house. Somehow my membership card to his secret club must have repeatedly gotten lost in the mail, because I kept having to go through the initiation process over and over again.

I'm also mildly autistic with some related mental health issues like anxiety and depression, and that no doubt plays a big role as well, even though I never knew I was on the spectrum until I was well into adulthood. Nowadays I can do a pretty good job of pretending I’m at least somewhat normal, but as a kid I was clueless. Nobody really had a name for my condition at that time; I just assumed I was a weird misfit due to some horrible character defect on my part. While my classmates were playing with their Transformers or G.I. Joe action figures, I was usually off in the corner sketching pictures of bridges and spaceships. A few years later when they were having their first sexual experiences, I was still sketching (slightly more refined) pictures of bridges and spaceships. It’s not that I didn’t have sexual feelings or wasn’t incredibly attracted to certain girls at school; it’s just that I was too chickenshit to actually act on those feelings. My classmates assumed I was gay or asexual, and bullied the living shit out of me accordingly. During bus rides home in 5th grade, a few of the popular kids would corner me in the back of the school bus and ask me invasive questions about my sexuality. If they didn’t like my answer, one of them would give me a swift punch in the stomach.

As you might imagine, relationships and sexuality – things that, in an ideal world, should be sources of joy and happiness for those involved – had come to be strongly associated with feelings of guilt, shame, rejection, and violence in my mind. When you crash the Radio Flyer wagon into the ravine too many times, you start to dread the idea of hauling it back up the hill for another ride.

Fast-forward to this past week, when a random bit of news during my workday brought back vivid memories of a time when I flew down that metaphorical hill way too fast, and ended up crashing into the ravine in a most spectacular manner.

As it turns out, a former crush of mine is getting married on Saturday, and not to me. You’d think I’d be over it after almost a decade, but this one really stung. For a few months in late 2002 and early 2003, “Jennifer” and I had developed what I considered a pretty deep long-distance relationship, which culminated in her flying to Philadelphia and meeting up with me during her spring break.

I’ve always had a pretty specific picture in my head of what my ideal partner is like, and it was uncanny just how close she came to that mental image, in a number of important ways: her intelligence, her emotional maturity, her overall great looks, and so forth. Nobody else before or since then has come quite so close to my idealized version of Miss Right. I was much more religious back then than I am now, and I was convinced she was the gift from God that I had been praying for almost my entire life.

I’ve always been drawn to the unique and unusual. In a neighborhood full of bland McMansions, I’m the guy who would buy something like the Mushroom House. Whenever I’d get a handful of candy corn around Halloween, I’d always pick out the mutant pieces and eat them first, because they were special and stood out from the others. I was somehow convinced this made them taste better.

Likewise, for as long as I can remember I’ve been fascinated by and found beauty in people with certain unique physical characteristics – even something as relatively minor as having a pair of webbed toes – but particularly with people who are missing one or more limbs, either by birth or through circumstances later in life. Jennifer wasn’t the first amputee I’d felt romantic feelings toward, and she likely won’t be the last. The first crush I ever had was toward Carol Johnston, a gymnast who was born without part of her right arm. Her story was the subject of a Disney film I saw on TV while growing up, and I was enthralled with the shape and movement of her partial arm, which ended with a small, round stump just below her elbow. (Carol is almost old enough to be my mother, but she appeared much closer to my age in the film, which had been produced a number of years before I saw it.) Jennifer was completely armless, not unlike Simona Atzori, an Italian artist and dancer who was also born without arms. No stumps or even scars, just perfectly smooth shoulders where a pair of arms would normally begin. Her use of her feet for daily tasks was as fluid and natural as most people’s use of their hands. I’d gladly pick somebody like her over any number of plastic-looking supermodels.

There’s a lot more to it than just the physical attraction, though. What I find equally appealing is the fact that people like Jennifer have a unique story to tell, that they know what it’s like to be different and to overcome obstacles. My favorite people in the world are those who strive to overcome life’s challenges with grace and humor, and who embrace their own uniqueness. This might be the one element that all my closest friends have in common, regardless of how many limbs they have.

An army of therapists could spend countless hours speculating on all the reasons why I have these feelings, and still not come up with a satisfactory answer. I wouldn’t really call it a fetish, although sexual attraction is certainly one part of it. I’ve always felt different throughout my life, and I think maybe I find a kindred spirit in somebody who is as different on the outside as I am on the inside, and who has spent a lifetime overcoming obstacles and dealing with other people’s stares and clueless comments, as well as more mundane things like a lack of wheelchair ramps or doorknobs that are difficult to grasp. To be clear, the attraction has nothing at all to do with any hardship or suffering that comes with being an amputee. I’ve had a few close friends over the years who are amputees, and I wouldn’t wish those phantom pains, ongoing medical issues, or the cost of a prosthetic limb on anybody.

As you might imagine, being attracted to amputees brings forth a lot of conflicted feelings that include heavy doses of shame and guilt. Pop culture values physical perfection to an obscene level, and people don’t like to be reminded that they might someday lose a leg in a car accident, or give birth to a child that has less than ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. Veterans who lose limbs in combat are either swept under the rug and ignored by the people who sent them into combat in the first place, or are maybe put onto a pedestal and briefly worshipped as folk heros – but never portrayed as the guy next door who lost his legs and a couple of close friends to a roadside bomb, and who still has nightmares about it. But I didn’t choose to have this attraction any more than Jennifer chose to be born without arms, and I reject the notion that I should beat myself up over an aspect of my psyche that I never willingly signed up for.

Soon after high school, my family got a computer, and I was introduced to this new thing called the Internet for the first time. After dialing in to AOL and doing a couple of creative searches (I’m really dating myself here), I soon discovered that I’m not the only person who has this attraction; people like me are typically referred to as devotees within the community. (The phenomenon also has a very dry technical term: Acrotomophilia.) Personally, I find the terminology inadequate – the term admirer has also been tossed around, which I find more apt – but for better or worse, devotee seems to be the accepted label.

How do amputees typically feel about this attraction? Opinions vary widely. Some find it very flattering and liberating; a common sentiment is that it’s nice to be seen as an attractive woman with no caveats, as opposed to being seen as attractive despite a disability. Others find it extremely repulsive and threatening, feeling that devotees are getting their jollies from what for many amputees is the most painful and traumatic episode of their lives. Most amputees’ feelings probably fall somewhere between those two extremes, perhaps accepting of the attraction despite some reservations. As a gross generalization, my experience is that amputees who were born that way tend to be more accepting of the attraction than those who lost a limb later in life due to trauma or disease. It’s a very controversial issue within online support groups and other amputee-related communities, with very passionate feelings on all sides of the issue. The purpose of this post isn’t to change anybody’s mind about it, but to simply articulate my own feelings.

Back in the 90’s there used to be a small online community of devotees and devotee-friendly amputees, mostly on IRC and an email listserv. There were even occasional real-life gatherings, and a number of marriages have come from those meetings. With a fairly intimate community it was easier to keep the predatory elements away, of which there are unfortunately quite a few. In the amputee-devotee subculture, the bad apples usually consist of guys who get off on some sort of power trip by being with somebody they perceive as helpless, or people who live out their fantasies by pretending to be amputees online.

Unfortunately, with the explosion in social media such as MySpace and then Facebook over the past few years, what used to be a fairly tight-knit and self-policing internet subculture has become a free-for-all, with some devotees pursuing amputees with all the grace and chivalry of the Nazgûl pursuing the One Ring, and ruining it for those who have better social skills and more honest intentions. There are still some vestiges of the old community left, but it’s a pretty small and isolated group with relatively little in the way of new blood.

I know of a number of amputee/devotee couples who couldn’t be happier. I also know of devotees who have gone their entire lives without finding their ideal partner to settle down with, and I know of others who ultimately married non-amputees only to find themselves depressed and frustrated, and their marriages failing. As for myself, it certainly makes things difficult because my ideal dating pool is a tiny fraction of the general population. I can go months or years at a time before seeing an attractive female amputee out in public, and the whole online scene is a crapshoot. On the rare occasion I see an attractive amputee out in public and I fail to make any kind of meaningful contact with her (which is almost always the case – I universally err on the side of keeping a respectful distance and doing nothing, rather than annoying her with any awkward advances), it can haunt me for months or years after the fact.

Mind you, I’m still very attracted to able-bodied women as well. The longest relationship I’ve had so far was with somebody who wasn’t an amputee, and I don’t regret a minute of it. But in looking for a long-term relationship or marriage, I face a bit of a dilemma. When I was in that relationship, there was always a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I wasn’t being true to my feelings and that I was “settling” for something that was less than my ideal, and I was overcome with feelings of guilt. I didn’t feel like I was being fair to either her or myself. Nobody likes to be told they’re a second choice.

Jennifer seemed flattered by my unusual form of attention, and I was thrilled with the idea that after so much longing and searching, I had finally found somebody to share my life with. But the day after she arrived in town and we first met face-to-face, she called me up at work just a couple hours before we were supposed to meet again, and slammed the brakes on any notion of a relationship. She never did give a clear reason, but seemed to imply that she wasn’t ready for a relationship and that the chemistry didn’t feel right.

On one level it was understandable, as there was a pretty significant age difference between us, we had different backgrounds and ambitions, and lived a couple thousand miles apart. At that moment on the phone, though, I felt like a bomb had just been detonated within my already-fragile psyche. I blame myself for getting my hopes up too high in the first place, but that euphoric feeling of being head-over-heels in love was incredible while it lasted. For a brief few weeks, I felt like I was racing downhill in that Radio Flyer wagon, and the S-curve and ravine were no longer a threat. I haven’t experienced anything like it since then, and part of me wonders if I ever will.

She said she wanted to remain friends, and held out the idea that maybe sometime in the future, things might work out between us. But it never happened. The phone calls and online chats became less frequent, and then stopped altogether. My greetings went unanswered, and after a lot of heartbreak and depression on my part, I eventually moved on. She became somewhat of a minor media celebrity with her motivational speaking gigs and other accomplishments, and I continued quietly making slow but steady progress toward my academic and professional goals.

I had pretty much put that episode out of my mind until now, but learning that she’s getting married this week brought it all back. In all honesty, I wish her the best, and with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, I can now look back and see about a million reasons why things never would have worked out between us. As painful as it was for me, she probably did the right thing by breaking it off sooner rather than later.

So now I’m spilling my guts here, mainly just to get it off my chest and hopefully gain some catharsis, but also to shed some insight into an aspect of my life that, until now, I’ve kept pretty private. No doubt some parts of this blog entry dove pretty far into TMI territory for some, but I’m hoping the benefits outweigh any negative blowback. A few of my closest friends already know about this side of me, and seem generally accepting of it, even if it’s impossible for them to fully understand it.

One of my resolutions for the new year was to try and let go of some emotional baggage that I’ve been carrying around my neck like an albatross, and this is part of that process. With people all over the country being denied equal rights and bullied to the point of suicide because of who they love, it seems hypocritical for me to champion their rights while keeping my own sexual proclivities safely tucked away in the closet, out of danger. Maybe some good will come of this blog post, and there may be some negative consequences as well. But I think I’ve reached the point where I’m finally willing to stop living in fear of the what-if scenarios, and to let the chips fall where they may.

[bypoisedapples]

" There! That's the last of em! " She's got a radio flyer wagon filled with white boxes of baked good. Seems like SOMEONE got stressed out and baked enough to feed the entire studio twice over. Come get em

[nsomniacsdream]

Some Like it Hot

Grott the gargoyle was enjoying the luxurious sun pouring down into his grotto (A convenience store back lot) when the call to adventure came. A letter, to be specific. A letter from a woman he knew as a child, Jerrica, who had become a schoolteacher for a local kindergarten. Jerrica had been a cool kid, didn't try to pull his tail or whine about his wings meant he should be able to fly her around. They hadn't so much kept in touch as she did occasionally drop by to get him a box of donuts and help him pull an iguana out of the storm drain (they did that all the time, something about that stormdrain was like iguana catnip). Jerrica was very politely asking his assistance in providing some animal learning for her class. After he chewed it over with a pizza crust, He was sure he knew exactly what he should do. So he started a lap of his grotto, talking to each of the best behaved animals that lived in the lot. An iguana named Gene, a python named Pit, and a baby gator that just wouldn't stay in the canals, Kevin. The next morning, he packed them all in a radio flyer wagon and started down the block wearing his nicest vest (he stuck with vests because they wouldn't bind down his wings after he ripped the armpit seams.) This particular one was khaki and made him think of steve irwin.

Jerrica greeted Grott at the door, and pet his cowlick down and kissed the sides of his snout. "Thank you so much for coming! The kids were so excited when I told them I knew an actual gargoyle!" Grott handed Gene to Jerrica with an admonition to behave himself. Pit and Kevin curled around Grotts arms and all three were set down on a table in front of the classroom. Grott an Jerrica split a box of mixed donuts and some coffee. Before you knew it, the kids were filing in, all flapping signed permission slips at Ms. Benton. They couldn't help themselves from oohing and aahing over the first gargoyle they had ever met. Grott felt glad that he could meet all these kids and leave a good impression. Ambassadorial status was a priviledge and a burden sometimes. In the meantime, Kevin had made his way onto Ms. Bentons desk and gotten into a threat display fight with a staple remover after already losing one with the stapler. Gene had slid down on a sun puddle at the corner of the table and was basking. Pit had managed to snag a donut and gotten it stuck behind his head after he wiggled thru the donut's hole. It wasn't a problem yet, but he kept sneezing from all the powdered sugar on it. As all the kids had arrived and been settled into their beanbags, Grott loosed Kevin on the floor and told him to stay out of trouble. Gene wokeup with a start as Grott scooped him up and carried him draped along his arm up to the first row of children. "Do you kids know what this animal is?" There were several timid voices that said "lizard" or "florida puppy". "This is a green iguana, even tho you can see he's not all green. This is Gene. He lives near me, he's a good guy. But the green iguana is an invasive species here. They're originally from central and south america, but came here on boats full of food. Iguanas are cold blooded, which means he can't keep his own body warm, so you'll usually see them laying out in the sun. Gene is a nice guy, but he gets excited, so I'm not gonna pass him around or anything." Grott handed Gene the Iguana to Jerrica, who placed him gently back into the sunlight coming through the window. Gene blinked a few times then huffed and laid on his tail, falling asleep. "The next animal is one that a lot of people find scary, so I'm going to tell you about him first. Burmese pythons are a kind of snake. They started living here in the late 70s, but they're also invasive. They've spread throughout almost the entire state. Burmese pythons can be very big, and that scares people, but they're almost never a threat to people. They only attack if they don't have any other options. So don't approach them in the wild, if they get cornered, they might attack to be able to escape. Pit here is a really good guy, look how big his eyes are! they hunt at twilight so they see really well in the dark. And do you see these little pits along his mouth? He can see heat with those. So when a warm food is in a cold shadow, he can still see them!" Pit was winding himself back and forth between ms. Benton's arms behind Grott, and the kids were mesmerized. Pit was enjoying all the attention but he was also getting a little wiggly because he was excited. "Pythons are also cold blooded! They like to curl up where it's warm. Don't bother them, because they can be jumpy if you spook them." Grott turned and found Pit even with his face. Pit slid forward and curled himself around Grott's horns, which were cooler than the surrounding room and would help him cool down and calm himself. Grott looked like a Gorgon a little bit, with his stony looking skin and snake on his head.

"I have one last friend here to meet you today. Kevin is a little alligator. Alligators are some of the Oldest species in the world, and they haven't changed a whole lot in the whole time. They're very well adapted to their environment (shallow water with low visibility)." Kevin, hearing Grott talk about him, had run from under the table and was strutting back and forth in front of the kids. Kevin loved when people talked about him, since he loved himself so much. Grott stepped forward and swept Kevin back a little bit from the kids. "Alligators can be Very dangerous. Even Kevin here will get much larger and will try to eat anything that he can catch that fits in his mouth. So never approach an alligator. Kevin is super cute and has a nice singing voice" and at this point Keven started squeakign at the top of his little lungs "but he is still full of teeth and bites without really thinking about it." The kids all lined up, and got to pet Gene's back, tickle Pit's chin (if they wanted to), and scratch Kevin's back and tail while he squeaked his happiest squeaks. Some of the kids tried to squeak along and it got really loud, with all the squeaking and laughing. Kevin got overstimulated and started barking at kids who got too close, so Grott felt it was about time for everyone to pack up and head home. Jerrica helped, and the kids were asking questions the entire time, and some of them asked to touch his wings, and were surprised that he was softer than he looked. Grott was pretty worn out, after the wagon pull here, and talking in front of an audience is never easy, althought Grott preferred children, they were more open about learning about things before they judged them. Pit had slid himself down into a groove in Grott's vest adn was pressed up against his ribs, keeping himself warm. Gene was dead asleep, and Kevin was still trying to get another chorus of squeaking going. Jerrica offered Grott a hug, being careful not to squish Pit, and a lot of the kids lined up for hugs too. By the time Grott was able to get back on his way to the Grotto, the sun was already going down. There was no traffic on the sidewalks, so they made good time, and Kevin jumped out of the wagon at one point when a pigeon was strutting by. But finally he made it back to the brightly lit lot and slid Pit around the Power Transformer for warmth, and Gene went on top, fo rhe same reason. Kevin wasn't ready to settle down, so he ran around the lot croaking and trying to catch any birds that landed (he managed to snag a seagull, but it was too big and pulled itself free and flew away). Grott went inside and got a beef jerky and cheese stick pack, and settled into the hammock he had strung between a tree and a light pole. Listening to Kevin sing about how scary and big he was, Grott fell asleep.

[tllgrrl]

Formal Introduction by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

@sarahbuckybingo 2023 Summer Prompt Fest - Week 3: Bucky Barnes & Cass and AJ Wilson

(Note: Originally posted 19 July 2023. Accidentally deleted and reposted 30 July due to Pilot Error. Apologies and Thanks to everyone who Liked/Reblogged the original post.)

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Cassius Casper Wilson’s vault isn’t old and fragile like many in the old cemetary, but on his birthday, when Sarah and their two sons visit, they still lovingly tend to it to make sure it looks nice. They bring the old red Radio Flyer—formerly Sam’s and Sarah’s now belonging to Cass and AJ—loaded with brooms, brushes, cleaning rags, and a couple of spray bottles of water, along with flowers, sun hats and a small ice chest of cold soft drinks.

On the way there, Cass and AJ tell Bucky about how graves are above ground in New Orleans, that there are famous people buried in the city—including “a real pirate”—and they tell him about some of the special customs people do at graves. Sarah elaborates on those.

Initially, the man formerly known as the “Winter Soldier” had some trepidations about being in the midst of so much death, after decades of he himself being the cause of so many deaths, but before they all left for the cemetery, he placed a brown paper bag containing a few special items into the red wagon that the boys took turns pulling to the gravesite.

He was at a cemetery in New Orleans with Sarah and her sons, because the boys asked him to come with them.

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Two weeks earlier, sitting at his desk, going over some maps and blueprints for Team Cap’s upcoming mission, he could hear them coming up the stairs talking.

He couldn’t help the smile that started in his chest.

He knew they were heading up to the attic because they didn’t slow down at the landing to go to their room. After a few seconds of excited whispering, two small fists knocked on his door, so he closed his laptop and turned his chair to face the door.

“Yes?”

“Can we come in?” Cass spoke first. “We have something important to ask you.”

“But we can ask you later if you’re doing a Uncle Cap computer meeting!” AJ offered.

“Hey! Come on in, fellas!”

They tumbled into his room, and rushing over to his desk, immediately began their pitch:

“Daddy’s birthday—“

“It’s next Saturday, and—“

“Nuh-uh! Next Saturday is Free Comic Book Day!”

“Oh yeah! Daddy’s birthday is Saturday after next!”

“And we go visit him. Mama and us.”

“And we tell him about stuff like school—“

“—and Little League, and books I been reading and—“

“Mathletes and Star Wars!”

“And we want you to come too this time.”

“Because you and Mama are all going steadily!” AJ says to Bucky like it’s still kind of a secret.

“Ah…going steadily, huh?” Bucky leaned back in his chair, nodded thoughtfully, and through the window, he heard the squeak of the screen door below, Sarah softly singing to herself as she walked down the porch steps, turned on the spigot and pulled the water hose over to the vegetable garden.

“AJ!” Cass dramatically ran one hand down his face, then leaned over and whispered into his little brother's ear.

“I mean going steady,” the young boy said, crossing his arms and mirroring Bucky’s thoughtful nod.

“So…do you want to come? Mama says you might not want to, and we understand if you don’t, but…”

Bucky sat up, rested a hand on each knee and gathered his thoughts before he spoke because the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint them.

“Listen. I know visiting your father on his birthday is a special thing you do. You and Mom. Are you sure you guys want—”

“Heck yeah we do!” Cass insists.

“We have to introduce you to him. You’re family now. You’re our Bucky!”

Looking at their faces, he sees their mom, and their father, who he’s seen photos of. He even sees a hint of Sam, along with his and Sarah’s parents Paul and Darlene Wilson.

He sees the family that he’s somehow now a part of, and he thinks about his own family: his Pa, Ma, and his sister Rebecca, all now long gone.

(You’re family now. You’re our Bucky.)

The boys saw him look down at his now clasped hands. One flesh and blood, warm. The other one metal and wires and…

They’ve seen him think like this before, and for a few seconds they’re sure he might not want to come with them just yet. Then he looked up at them, placed one hand on Cass’s shoulder, and the other hand on AJ’s.

“Cass, AJ, I would be honored to be introduced to your father. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yesss!!!” The boys high-fived each other, and fist pounded the youngish old man sitting in front of them.

“We gotta go tell mama!! Thanks Uncle Bucky!!”

“Any time, fellas!”

He sat and listened as the small tornado of boys rushed down the stairs.

“Goin’ steadily…” he mused, not trying to keep the grin from turning into a full-out smile.

A few minutes later, in the middle of writing about extraction logistics and post-mission debriefing, he looked up from his notes, stood, walked over to the window, and looked down at the boys and Sarah across the yard, in the garden.

Narrowing his focus, he could hear them.

“Mama! Guess what?”

“He said yes!!”

“Oh, really?” She smiled, adjusting Cass’ askew glasses. “He did?”

“YES!!” the boys say in unison.

She gathered her sons into her arms, kissing them on the tops of their heads. Then she looked up at the attic window. He knows she can’t really see him from there, but he could read her lips as she mouthed “Thank you.”

He went back to his desk, picked up his phone, pressed a button, spoke, and after a few rings…

“Hey, Sam. Yeah, fine. We’re all fine. You? Good to hear.

Well…yes. I am happy. What? I’m not grumpy all the time, Samuel.

Listen. You got a minute? I have a few questions about Cass’s and AJ’s father, and about traditions.”

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Also posted HERE on The AO3.

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::ICYMI::

@sarahbuckybingo Summer Prompt Fest

Week 1 - July 1-7 Prompt: Cookout

[runicknight]

You've heard of the Radio Flyer wagon! Now prepare yourself for the HAM Glider wagon!