Today is my Monday and I go back to work tonight. Pictures from our weekend as we ventured up Highway 78 and had a small picnic together in the area where desert meets mountains.

So beautiful to get away for few short hours to spend have time together and focus on what matters. Each other. We pulled over on a look out at the almost top of the road that travels upward. We chased the sunset and caught some gorgeous views. Lola said “pretty” and pointed to were the sun kissed the land below.

Further down the road, closer to home, there is a corral of three beautiful horses. We stopped to say “hi” and they greeted us with curious faces. Lola was a little scared and I reached to pet one on the nose. They were gentle and Lola warmed up a little saying “hi horses, pretty!” We stayed for and few and wished them “bye bye Horses!”

Our Saturday together.

anonymous asked:

Vongola get hit by the Bazooka and notice there's some very obvious (to them at least) signs in the future that the s/o has died...

Tsuna: He had thrown his hands up to block the attack, not fully realizing what it was and when he lowered them, he was somewhere else.  He looked around realizing it was his room, but in the future.  He let out a sigh, reminding himself that he needs to hide Lambo’s bazooka better.  

He walked around the room, looking at all the nick-knacks when he saw a picture frame that had been placed facing down.  Curious, he picked it up and saw a picture of future him and future you smiling together at a beach.  He perked up.  The two of you were still together in the future.  Putting the picture back down, he placed it up.  Continuing, he saw what he assumed was a couple of your things in a box in the corner.  The dresser was filled with empty alcohol bottles, another picture there, but this one torn down the middle with the half with you on it, crumpled up.  A set of wedding rings were lying there. 

Tsuna’s head jerked when he heard a knock on the door before future Gokudera entered in.  He stopped when he saw the younger Tsuna surrounded by all the things.  His eyes dropped as he turned and left.  Tsuna was about to go ask the man what was going on when the puff of smoke appeared and he found himself back in his old room. 

Gokudera: The teen barely got his cuss phrase out when he found himself in the Vongola mansion, at a meeting table surrounded by Tsuna and the other Guardians.  He looked around, finishing his cuss phrase in the older Lambo’s direction.  TYL Tsuna let out a sigh.  “I knew I should’ve destroyed that damn thing when I had the chance.  Let’s take a break for now.”

The Guardians got up and walked out, not making eye contact with their younger companion.  Gokudera and TYL Tsuna got up and walked out together into the little waiting area.  TYL Tsuna plopped down on the couch and in walked his S/O with a new patch of paperwork he needed to sign.  He gave her a quick kiss before flipping through it all.  “Gokudera?” the person said, wrapping him up in a hug.  

“*insert random name*?” the Storm Guardian called, surprised.  “If you’re here then Y/N should be here too,” he said, looking around to see if you had entered.  TYL Tsuna’s pen stopped and the other Guardians froze as well, all conversations going quiet.  *randomly named person* looked at him, tears started to form when the smoke appeared again and Gokudera was once more at his apartment.

Yamamoto: He didn’t even flinch when the bazooka hit him.  So when he appeared in another place he just looked around.  It looked like his office.  Getting up, he headed out, his secretary highly confused, and walked over to the other office.  He found Gokudera in it and he swear he heard the man cuss.  “What the hell happened?” 

“I guess Lambo got me with that bazooka of his,” Yamamoto laughed.  “So how have the past ten years treated me?” 

Gokudera winced.  “You gain some, you lose some,” he finally got out, not making eye contact with the teen.  

“Well, that’s life,” he smiled before heading back to his office, the five minutes almost up.  

Back at the office, he looked around, curious.  He found a picture of you in one of the desk draws, underneath some files.  The back of it had several dates on it, little notes beside each.  But the last date didn’t have a note by it and the hand writing was shaky, weird spots around it that looked like water drops.  His smile dropped for a second but before he could ponder it longer, the smoke cloud enveloped him and he was back in his room.   

Lambo: It was his own fault really.  He was playing with the bazooka, hitting everyone with it, so he should have seen that someone would take it from him and shoot him with it.  With a poof, he was no longer in Tsuna’s kitchen, but in a graveyard.  Confused, he started walking around before stopping in front of a blank gravestone, fresh flowers lying in front of it.  In the back of his mind he noted that they were your favorite, but pushed the thought away, it wasn’t relevant right now.  

He was curious about the blank stone though and rubbed his hand over it, thinking it might be dusty, but still no writing appeared.  Then he caught a glimpse of an indent toward the bottom.  Taking his hand again, he wiped the stone off toward the base and saw one word written there.  It was small, barely readable but he recognized it as the nickname he gave you soon after the two of you started dating.  He backed away from the grave, not understanding what was going on, fear in his eyes before the smoke grabbed him and brought him back to the familiar kitchen.

Ryohei: One embarrassing comment toward Lambo later and he found himself being hit with the bazooka.  When the smoke cleared, he found himself standing on a hill overlooking a funeral.  The clouds threatened rain, only adding to the dreary look in everyone’s face and dark clothes.  

Squinting he was able to spot the other Guardians and his sister.  Your family was there too, but he didn’t see you.  Maybe you were closer to the casket, hiding in front of everyone.  He debated whether or not he should go over there, but he figured he was here for a reason.  Besides, the time was almost up, he would make it in time.  So he sat down on the hill, watching as they lowered the casket into the ground before the poof of smoke took him back to Tsuna’s place.

Hibari: He growled in annoyance when he opened his eyes and was not in his office.  The little cow brat was going to pay.  Instead he was at some house, sitting on a couch.  He looked around and saw several photos of you lying around, some empty picture frames sitting on the coffee table that looked new.  Then he heard a women’s voice and turned to see your sister walk in, tea cups in her hand.  She paused when she spotted him, tilting her head curiously.  “Lambo?” she asked, the answer finally dawning on her.  

Hibari nodded yes and accepted the tea cup she held out to him before she sat down in the chair.  

“What’s all this?” he asked, looking at the pictures.  He spotted one that was taken just the other day, the two of you outside the school.  But ten years had it faded and worn.  There were others, a couple more with him and some of just you.  

Your sister had a sad look on her face as she stared into her tea.  Hibari looked at her when she didn’t answer.  

“What happened?” he asked, more urgently.  But before she could even lift her head to answer, he found himself back at his office.

Chrome: She didn’t really know how she got caught up in it all, but she did and she was the one that got hit by the bazooka.  She looked around and found herself in someone’s room.  There were pictures of her and you around.  She grabbed the nearest one.  It had been removed from the frame that sat next to it.  The picture was torn a little at the corner.  She looked up again and spotted her old school uniform on the floor of the closet and realized this was her room.  

Getting up she looked at the other pictures.  They were all of the two of you, but most had your face covered up with black marker.  Some even all of you was crossed out.  She looked around some more, curious.  Did something happen?  In the trash was an itinerary, crumpled up a bit.  She pulled it out and saw it had the name of a funeral company on it.  You name and picture were at the bottom.  She dropped it back into the trash, suddenly looking around in fear.  But before she could get her answer the was back on the couch in Tsuna’s house, a cloud of smoke surrounding her.   

Mukuro: Now he remembered why he hated visiting Tsuna’s house.  It wasn’t because of the mafia’s boss, but because of Lambo.  The teen let out an angry sigh as he found himself elsewhere.  

When the smoke cleared he found himself lying in a bed, some person next to him, sleeping.  He sat up, looking at the person.  It wasn’t you.  He looked around, recognizing a lot of his things.  This was his room.  

He looked down at the person again when he saw them shift.  They opened their eyes and looked up at him confused.  “Who are you?  Where is Y/N?” he asked roughly.  

At hearing your name the person sat up, eyes fully opening.  “You aren’t you.  You’re younger you.  You don’t know,” the person rambled out.   

“Answer the questions,” he growled. 

“I’m *insert random name*, your girl/boyfriend,” the person said.

“What happened to Y/N?” he growled out again, running out of patience.

“(S)he,” the person started with downcast eyes but stopped when Mukuro started smoking.  

With a poof, he was back at Tsuna’s house, threatening to choke the five year old.    

Both of the boys were unsettling — Adam Parrish, in particular, had a curious face. Not as in, he was a curious person. But rather that there was something peculiar about his facial features. He was an alien, handsome specimen of this western Virginia species; feather-boned, hollow-cheeked, eyebrows fair and barely visible. He was feral and raw-boned by way of those Civil War portraits. Brother fought brother while their farms ran to ruins — And Ronan Lynch looked like Niall Lynch, which was to say, he looked like an asshole.

I imagine that being best friends with me must be somewhat of a chore. 

I dunno anyone willing to shed light on this contemplation?

It’s not that I think you love me less or anything, or find me less adorable. I just… don’t I ever get, like, exhausting, or something?