#emilio immediately went 'me' which I think is. very him

[nerdybirdboy]

"Buon compleanno, caro mio!" Lio says as he kisses Tim on the cheek and gifts him with a big, metalic bag filled to the brim with barely bigger than the size of a fist, handmade, crochet duckies in muted, but soothing colors, all squishy and the fibers of each thread has different textures, so Tim can choose which is better for each situation. "And this one is for you to keep in your bag when you go to work." He shows a yellow bunny, smaller than the duckies and attached to a keychain, equally as squishy, but perfect to carry around. "This way you'll always have a thinking-duckie or bunbun with you to help whenever you need stimming or just thought clarity." Lio's very proud of his creations and he made them all with much love and care in mind.

"There's also cake for later. I made that chocolate and coffee one you like, but I followed that crazy idea you had the last time we ate it and put on a parfait bowl with ice cream on top of it, so it's in the fridge." He smiles.

birthday stuff || @goldentemplariumcrow

Lio's lips were soft and warm against his cheek, making him feeling all warm inside. That feeling mixed with all the crocheted duckies made him laugh. The gifts seemed absurd, yes, but Lio knew Tim. Knew how much he liked, and needed, different things to fidget with and duck and bunnies were kind of their thing. Duck Boy and Bunny Boy. An odd friendship that had turned into a type of love Tim had never imagined he'd feel. Despite their young age, Lio was the person that made Tim understand saying such as 'my other half', since it truly felt like Emilio was a part of him he had never realised he was missing before he found him.

For a moment, he's just looking lovingly at Lio before picking up one of the duckies and squeeze it. It's perfect. Then he takes the bunny-keychain and immediately attack it to the keys he has in his pocket. "It's perfect. All of it. Thank you, Emiliano." The name that Tim ever only use when he's emotional. He likes the name, but Lio always seems to get... flustered by it, but sometimes Lio or Emilio isn't enough.

"Really? You did?" Tim laughed, giving his boyfriend a peck on the cheek. "You're too good to me, in so many way." He even went through with Tim's crazy food ideas. As long as it wasn't pineapple on pizza. Good thing Tim hated that.

#goldentemplariumcrow #birthday ask #look at these two <3

[laurenceslife]

Chapter 22

            Next day, during a filming break, the wind’s power immediately began growing at a huge speed. It brought lots of sand from the wind’s direction, and it was even hard to walk in it.

Everybody got to be full of sand, they were breathing with difficulty by the huge powered wind, especially this way that the sand also pretty much got mixed up with the air. Everybody was loudly grumbling, annoyed or swearing; the filming’s continuation was postponed, and they fled into the bus they came by.

They already would have set off back for the hotel when Francis began to speak:

- Oh my God! – he cried out in horror, looking back.

The others looked back, too, and saw that the storm destroyed almost the whole film set.

            On the basis of Francis’ idea, the filming continued with the demolished film set until the film set would be made again, but since the day of the sandstorm, he was even more restless again, like when Marlon and Harvey were the reasons why there were problems with the filming.

- I’ve never seen him like this before – Larry said to Martin when they were having dinner together – He’s like he went mad and depressed at the same time. Like he’s got a panic attack and burst of anger at the same time – the boy’s face was sympathizing.

- In its beginning, he hadn’t even comprehended it – Martin said – While he’s starting to regain consciousness from the numbness that defends him against it, it’s just getting worse and worse. I’m twitchy, too; I’ve been pinning my hopes on this movie. It’s not healthy this way that he leads the filming in that state of mind. The result also would be better if he could concentrate more, and we could perform better, too, if he didn’t yell at us.

            Days were passing, and Francis was driving the actors so hard that everybody got up restlessly, and groggily had a breakfast, went to the set, shot the movie, went back to the hotel to take a shower, to clean their teeth and to sleep late at night, every day except on Sunday. What Larry was chiefly thinking about, wasn’t when he could meet with Jenny again and that he should forgive Emily, because Francis and Martin were on the edge of exhaustion psychosis if they hadn’t cracked up completely yet.

Later, Francis succeeded in accepting that he panicked and drove the actors very hard in vain, he only used to stifle the fact inside him that they would have been ready in vain filming those scenes which didn’t need the entire film set, because after a while, it was going to be necessary to wait until the film set would be ready, and since then, they didn’t shoot through so many hours every day, but Francis and Martin had still been very restless.

- John, I’ve told you a thousand times that this script’s lousily not OK! – Francis yelled at the scriptwriter on the last day of February.

- I don’t believe it! You don’t understand that with those cheap guns, every armed scene will be worthless! – the thirty-one-year old, bearded John Milius tried to persuade him, shouting, too.

- Your huge gun-mania’s what I’ll die of! You will rewrite the scenes, full period! Less gunfight, cheaper guns!

The actors were only watching them while the two men were quarreling over it in their presence. By this, Larry found a further subject for his conversations with Jenny.

Then the two bearded men agreed with each other on writing on the script later together and now rather going back to the hotel to have a rest.

            Next day, it was Sunday, so there wasn’t any filming. Larry happened to be watching TV when Emilio knocked on the door.

- I was just told that Dad caught a heart attack, and was taken to hospital – he said, trembling and almost scared to death – Are you coming with me to the hospital?

- Yeah – the other boy said, almost scared to death, too, and they already set off - But why aren't you going with your family? – Larry was surprised.

- My mom has gone there already but didn't want us to go there.

- And how can he have a heart attack?! – Larry asked on the way – He’s only thirty-five years old and isn’t even fat! Or does he have some heart disease?

- While he doesn’t have that either! – Emilio said, in astonishment, too.

- Cool it, he’ll surely survive, he’s still young – Larry said when they were on a bus already but his voice was still panicky, too.

- How’s he now? – Larry asked when they had arrived in the hospital, and Martin's doctor happened to be going into the ward.

- He’s still in critical condition. His heart has stopped once, and it can happen again several times.

- When can we go in? – Emilio asked in a trembling voice.

- We’ll speak to you guys when he regains consciousness but it can take even hours.

- We'll be waiting for a while – Larry said, and he and the other boy sat down on two chairs with trembling legs.

The doctor went in, and Larry was leaning his head on his hands and watching the white tiles with lowered head. He felt like he was in a surreal dream.

He was trying to make himself get used to the thought that his friend could die, and then he rather didn’t even dare to think of it.

- Do your brothers and sister know what happened? – he asked.

- Yeah but they’re too young yet to come here - Emilio said, looking down, too.

Then they heard that the man was being revitalized again in the ward. 

- I'll rather get off ’cause one goes crazy by it – Emilio stood up. He didn’t want to be there anymore. He hadn’t been ready to get to know that he died.

- Where are you going? – the other boy asked.

- Just to the first floor. 

- Me too - Larry stood up, too, at the end of his tether, and they set off.

They went downstairs to the diner, and were rather waiting there for the doctor's notification about Martin dying or waking up, not to be hearing the attempt to revitalize him.

- Are you guys waiting for anybody? – the seller girl asked who could be between twenty and twenty-five, and her black hair was in a ponytail on her back.

- Yeah – Larry answered gloomily, watching the greenish blue, little table.

- Won't you guys buy anything till then? Or are you guys gonna eat anything together? – the girl asked tensely.

The boy sighed.

- There’s no money with me, I came to my friend suddenly who’s being revitalized now, and we didn’t wanna hear it, and now we're waiting for the doctor to inform us if he died or regained consciousness! – he shouted furiously.

Emilio couldn't even begin to speak, and the girl and the two older women and an old man who were in the diner, looked at him, startled by his shouting and by what he said.

The girl went up to Larry and Emilio, and sat down at their table.

- I’m sorry… Of course, you guys don’t have to buy anything – she said – Your friend will surely recover, calm down.

- OK – the boy sighed.

Then Martin’s doctor appeared.

The boys quickly stood up from the chairs, and were waiting for the man with infinite terror to tell them if Martin died.

The girl went back behind the counter, and was looking at them, sympathizing.

- I thought you guys haven’t gone away yet – the doctor began it – So your friend regained consciousness; you guys can go in.

- OK, thanks – Larry said, and he and Emilio went back upstairs, then went in through the ward’s door.

Martin was connected to machines, and was lying in the bed; he was snowy and motionless. Larry got frightened of him. He seemed to be dead already, like he was only left on the machines.

- Hi… - the man said weakly, slowly turning his head towards the boys; till then, he was watching the ceiling.

- Hello – Larry said after going there slowly – How are you feeling? – he asked the stupid question like he couldn’t see how weak he was, and Emilio was speechless by the sight.

- It's so good... that I can see... you guys... one more time, too - the man was panting - I… will be… with Jesus… soon.

- The doctor didn’t say it so it’s surely not true – Emilio said but his voice was extremely scared.

- Maybe he… hasn’t… told or… he can’t… tell kids, the patient… neither. Call a priest!

The nurse told the boys to already let the patient rest.

In the corridor, he and Larry met the doctor, and asked him about what prospect Martin had.

- He is critically ill. His heart can stop at any moment, and after a while, probably we can’t revitalize him anymore. There’s very little hope of him staying alive – the man said in a low voice.

Emilio flopped down to one of the chairs, and Larry began feeling dizzy, too.

- The doctor said there’s very little hope but he didn't say there’s no hope – Larry said to calm both of them down – But now you’ve got to comply with what your dad said to do.

Then they saw that a priest was already going into the ward.

- Well, OK, I won't stay here anymore – the boy set off with Larry.

They went downstairs, and left the hospital. Larry had never pitied anybody more than Emilio and Martin.

They went back to the hotel.

Larry went in his own suite, and called Zac who always put him in a better mood.

He was reporting to him about everything that had happened since they had last talked, and Zac was also telling him everything that had happened to him since then, then they were talking about good movies and girls to divert Larry’s thoughts from what happened to Martin.

- Why don’t you call Jenny? – Zac asked – You have time to talk to her now.

- Maybe it’s not a good idea now that I’m so broken down…

- Why? You could be chatting with her like with me. It’s possible to also chatter about other things, not only about bad things.

- OK, you succeed in talking me into that. Thanks for the advice.

Larry was talking to Jenny on the phone, and then went with Emilio and with Kerry, one of the actors, to a place of entertainment to drink and play billiards.

They were guffawing a lot at one another’s stories and comments while drinking.

When they had gone back to the hotel, Larry succeeded in falling asleep by the alcohol instead of considering whether Martin would stay alive.

            Next morning, when he was having a headache and felt sick, received that he drank a lot.

He was even letting the breakfast out of the day, and when his stomach had been better, he began drinking lots of water for his headache, on the advice of Emilio.

On the set, he had still been constantly making up for the liquid what the alcohol sucked away when they weren’t shooting his scenes, but still hardly could concentrate on the filming by the headache, so Francis was yelling at him because the man was broken down, anyway, because of losing Martin and because of the other things that had happened to the filming.

Later, Emilio’s advice was effective, so Larry could concentrate on working already, so the director stopped yelling at him.

On the other hand, when he had arrived back in the hotel, he met his mother in the living room, and she asked him about what was yesterday and how the filming was going, and when Larry told him, Hattie told him off because he appeared on the set with a hangover. Hattie said, different directors, who didn’t treat him like he was their son, would have had a quarrel with him forever and would have discredited him, so nobody would have worked with him anymore, and his career would have been lost. She said, if he would have such a big move like this one more time, she would call his father there.

Larry was having a conscience without it too, about last night, he still felt good while Martin was dying in the hospital.

His mother’s hysteria put the lid on it to him – he thought when he went in his room, and began throwing everything at the wall he found in the room. He didn’t care that he would have to pay them, and anyway, he was mostly throwing his own clobbers at the wall, and they weren’t so luxury items that it would have been hard to make up for them.

Fortunately, his mother didn’t notice that it was happening in his room, she thought one of Martin’s sons was doing it.

            Larry and Martin’s family systematically went to see the man, and sometimes some other actors of the film went to see him, too. The morale was like he already died. Janet, his wife, the still very young children and Martin’s mother constantly cried, and the others fled into cherishing illusions of that little hope that he would stay alive.

One of his brothers Joe was playing his role so it wouldn’t be necessary to delete his scenes while a lot of things had delayed completing the movie already. Francis wouldn’t even have had enough nervous system to shoot all of Martin’s scenes again, and his brother traveled there to go to see him, anyway.

- You hardly call me already since Martin had a heart attack, while I and my family are gonna fly there for the spring holiday because of you – Jenny burst in saying it some weeks later.

- I didn’t want to stick this mournful mood on you – Larry said sullenly – I don't wanna you to constantly comfort me, and don't wanna scare you away - he continued a lot gentler.

- I thought you constantly go to see him ’cause he's more important to you - the girl said, startled - So what do you do when we're not talking?

- I talk to my cousins and friends - he sighed and sat down on the bed - I hear what happens to them, and we talk about that, not to think of Martin during it... I haven’t even gone to see him for a while, not to see what shape he’s in...

- Maybe he's already better, and you don't even know it yet because of it. Also, maybe he’s missing you. I already know I was selfish, and you are that now, too, ’cause you don't give poor one's due, his having a friend next to him before he dies. By the way have you even at least asked anybody about how he is? Maybe he's not even dying anymore! What if he started to recover from his heart attack?

The boy furiously stood up from the bed.

- I can see what state of mind his family is in, every time I notice them in the corridor of the hotel! - he said furiously, desperately and almost shouting it - I know that my friend's dying and I can't do anything against it by going to see him! It's the same to him already, anyway! Isn't it the same to him what happened to him before his death?! - he clonked back to the bed.

- I know it's hard for you now.

- It's good that you're talking to me - he said in a low voice - Do you still wanna meet with me?

- Of course.

            Later, he went to be filming, and then he was having dinner together with some actors.

- Hey Larry, how’s Martin? – Harrison asked while stuffing the beef into his mouth.

- The same health of state – the boy said in an expressionless voice.

- At least his condition hasn’t changed for the worse.

- So there’s some hope yet – Scott said.

Larry suddenly stopped eating.

The possibility that there would be such a period before his death when there would be no more hope that he would stay alive, hadn’t even come into his head yet. He was already terrified that Martin would already surely die, and he wanted to reassure himself that his condition hadn’t changed for the worse. He could only achieve it by going to see him and talking to his doctor, so he decided to go to the hospital to visit him tomorrow.

            Because of the possibility that Martin would already surely die, he still hardly could be sleeping at night. It came into his head that he could be almost only better than his latest condition, at least how he knew it before, but because of the same thing, there was more possibility that he would die, so he was in the same health of state or in a worse health of state.

He sleepily got up, had breakfast with his mother and with Emily, then went to the set. Of course, buses go from the jungle to the hospital and they were taken back to the hotel by cars, so he set off to the hospital from the hotel. From there, he found his way to the bus stop, and knew where to get off and where to go because he systematically went to Martin before.

On the bus, when he was seeing through the windows that they were going towards the hospital, he felt the tension already by it, because he would see one of his best friends in that shape again.

When he had arrived in the hospital, and opened the door of the ward, the sight of his pale, motionless friend who was connected to machines, hit him again.

He wasn’t counting on his family to be there, but several members of his family were there.

First, Janet contemptuously looked at him because he came only after two weeks, but in the next moment, Charlie ran up to him joyously.

- Imagine what happened, the doctor just said that our dad’s condition got better, and already there was a lot more chance of his recovering! – he said. Larry only then noticed that he was connected to fewer machines and wasn’t so pale anymore.

First, Larry was happy about it, but then was lingering some yards from the door, embarrassed, because he wanted to talk to the man between the two of them to be able to tell him why he hadn’t gone to see him for two weeks. He couldn't send the others out of the ward after what happened.

- When we will be the two of us, I’ll tell you why I haven’t come to see you for two weeks – he said in a puzzled voice.

- We’re curious to know it, too – Janet began to speak furiously – He said he missed you but didn't want us to nag you if you didn’t wanna come.

- I didn’t wanna see him that way – Larry said in a low voice – That's why I haven’t come.

- I forgive you – Martin smiled.

- Thanks – his friend went up to him, and sat down at the edge of his bed – So many things happened that you missed! – he said enthusiastically – I'm gonna tell you when I won’t be bothering the others. And how are you? Do you also feel that you’re better?

- In these circumstances, when you guys are here, yes.

#laurence fishburne #francis ford coppola #martin sheen #charlie sheen #emilio estevez #harrison ford

[teddiebearie]

I wish I had as much self confidence as the among us player who named themself “Im hot”

#teddy's talk #emilio immediately went 'me' which I think is. very him

[aparticularbandit]

so - saw that episode again (and also started jtv again because...want to go through the first fourteen episodes again for soulmate au purposes) and here are the things i gleaned!

1) jane thought rose was 38 instead of 51. like - i know we harp on the 51 bit but this time it’s the 38 bit that stuck out to me.  not because there’s an age difference there of thirteen years (yikes) but more because of the age difference that would be between lu and rose.  at the end of the series, lu is roughly 45.  in fandom, we usually put rose at three years younger than lu (because bridget is roughly 3 years younger than yara), but jane is here making rose seven years younger than lu. and here is why that is important (and also indicating a missed opportunity that i would have liked them to delve into more): jane is seven years younger than rafael.  jane is mentally putting the age gap between rose and lu as the exact same as the age gap between her and raf, where lu stands in for raf and rose stands in for her.  this is just another bit of that mental paralleling that we see jane do between herself and rose - or the writers do between jane and rose - that we see coming up again in the episode: rose making the claim that this isn’t jane’s love story, it’s hers (when we, as the viewers, know it is the other way around); jane setting them up as good vs. evil in that final confrontation (and the parallel of rafael coming to save her vs. luisa coming to kill rose)--

even before this, there are instances of rose/lu meaning to be a parallel of jane/raf.  rose constantly saying that she and lu are the greatest love story ever told (as compared with jane’s preoccupation with telenovelas and her love story turning out to be one); rose and lu having literal fireworks over their first kiss as opposed to the dramatics that we see happening with jane’s “first” kisses with her respective love interests (the fake snow falling with michael; the blossoms with rafael (not her technical first kiss, but in context, i think you understand what i mean).  both love stories are shown with that telenovela flair to them so that there is a contrast between them.  you can even bring up jane and her different janes (critic!jane, drunk!jane, etc.) and compare them with the different masks that rose wears as sin rostro.

(you can make a fandom argument here.  i don’t feel like making it, but you can, technically, make it.)

to an extent, rose is a negative version of jane where her love - and her obsession with her love interest - destorys her, changing her life for the worse instead of changing it for the better the way it does with jane.  (and you can make the argument that jane tries to make the appeal that lu should be her michael and that rose should move on to find her actual raf, but idk how much water that holds).

we can also look at jane making rose and lu’s age gap similar to her age gap with raf as a way of her trying to connect to their love story as she writes her novel.  for most of her writing time, jane’s relationship with luisa is...rocky, at best, if it’s actually there at all.  you could make the argument that she didn’t actually really start understanding writing luisa until the flashback chapter in s4 and used that as her basis for writing her, but the point is that most of what jane wrote about luisa and rose would be built from what little she knew.  those parallels would be her insertion.

i’m just surprised that she put rose in her place instead of lu.  but that may be due to rose was emilio’s trophy wife, so she has to be the younger one, which - says a lot about what jane thought of emilio (from the little time she spent with him and the stories she likely heard from raf) that he would be married to a woman she thought was seven years younger than his oldest daughter.

(there is also the potential thought that jane thought rose was 38 at the beginning of the series and that rose was 51 at the beginning of the series - which, you know, would make more sense in terms of where authors would talk about their character’s ages, which would make rose, what, 59? at the end of the series?  (a year a season with a three year time gap would be eight years - s1 isn’t really a full year, but there’s a time jump in s2 re: petra’s pregnancy, so i’m evening it out - so 59?  almost 60?  idk.  jtv, maybe make things a little clearer here.  actually, don’t.  it’s more fun to speculate.)

2) where rose was stabbed through by the statue (which probably wouldn’t have happened anyway, that thing was probably made of styrofoam or some other lightweight material that would more likely have broken under her weight, but i digress), she probably still could have survived.  with some immediate medical attention and a lot of constraints, probably.

or faked it, to be fair, but let’s not go there.

the statue stabbed through the lower half of her torso, approximately cutting her in half.  but not entirely.  idk, in a telenovela sort of way, she could have survived that.  i just think i originally thought the statue stabbed, you know, her heart, not her lower regions.  so maybe she couldn’t have actually survived that.  it just feels like it’s more likely there than otherwise.

idk i have less proof for this, just a general feeling.

3) xo is really good at keeping secrets to the benefit of other people.

this is less a that episode thing and more of a starting jtv over again thing but like!  she spent all of jane’s first twenty-four years letting jane believe that she had wanted an abortion and alba convinced her to keep her instead of the other way around so that she could protect jane!  and she kept the secret about rogelio for just as long and let alba think she didn’t know who the dad was and was just a random hook-up (because she didn’t want to be with rogelio then) because that was the better option!  like xo is a determined woman who is actually very good about protecting her people and that’s something i hadn’t noticed before and like, yeah, i might have a higher appreciation for xo now.

4) luisa is definitely wearing the same dress when she goes to jump off the bridge that she is when she explains to jane and raf and petra and xo that she artificially inseminated the wrong woman.

it’s the same blue dress.  she literally went immediately afterward to try and commit suicide and rose talked her out of it, like, i’m wondering - i know that lu was supposed to die when roman apparently did (but aaron actually did), but i’m wondering if the bridge jumping thing was a callback to the original plan (and if in that universe, luisa’s death was a suicide and not a murder by sin rostro.  not that aaron/roman’s murder was.  but you know).

5) also luisa and no patient confidentiality why are you telling rafael that jane works at the hotel where is your privacy woman

there are probably more but, uh, gonna stop there for now.  maybe will bring up more later with further episodes!  will see!

#musings #jtv #jane the virgin #jane villanueva #rose solano #roisa #jafael #i really want to write a meta on the jafael/roisa parallels #specifically on the parallels between jane and rose that the show set up #and the parallels between luisa and raf #like #they are very much very there #and UGH i regret that the show didn't make those clearer because it's actually a very interesting device #also still think that rose was jane making up a bs final confrontation because her editor asked her to do so #because as much as i love bridget #that rose didn't feel like the same rose we saw in the rest of the series #just didn't #and she was back to an outfit that felt more like trophy wife rose #which is the rose jane knew best #like.... #she felt more like the rose jane would have written than the actual rose #idk #a n y w a y #it wasn't as painful this time #that was good

[avengerscompound]

Bartoned - Chapter 35

Bartoned - A Hawkeye Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Rating:  E

Warnings:  None for this chapter

Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count:  1884

Summary:  Clint’s name has become synonymous with fucking things up.  When you have a one night stand with him, your whole life gets Bartoned.

Chapter 35

While you were still a fair way off your wedding date, there was still a lot that needed doing.  There were dress fittings and bridal registries.  Bridal showers and meetings with celebrants, photographers, bands, and caterers.  More pressing than this, was Nattie’s first birthday party to organize.  With all that, work, and now Nattie running around everywhere, you were very much looking forward to your honeymoon when you were taking a break.

Things in the compound had settled in completely and now the tower had reverted to being for Stark Industry related business.  The compound was much bigger, with more staff which had meant a few changes.  First was; there were more on-site facilities available to the staff because there was a lot more staff.  More staff meant the Avengers had a little more time at home.  They were all team leaders now delegating to their seconds for things like training recruits and sending their teams on missions.  It was only the really big things that would have an actual card-carrying Avenger going along and thankfully none of those had popped up in months.

The medbay was much larger and there were specialists for more things.  So now it was just a place people could go for all their medical needs.  Whether that be the emergency patch-ups and physicals they used to provide or something like gynecology or obstetrics.

There was also now a childcare center on-site.  It was in the office building and allowed staff to come in and breastfeed if needed.  It was very handy for you and Clint because Doreen hadn’t been able to move out with you permanently due to college and while she’d come and lived with you for the transition, you were now nanny free and the childcare center picked up where Doreen left off.

There weren’t many kids in it yet, though you thought that was going to change.  Wanda and Kari had applied to adopt in Sokovia and there were new recruits, office workers, lawyers, and medical staff.  Some already had kids and some were thinking about it.  Right now though there was Nattie, a pair of three-year-old twins that were the kids of someone in the psych department, and three kids that were all two but at staggered ends of the age whose parents were all agents.  A four-year-old would be joining the group in a couple of weeks though because today was the day that Steve and Bucky brought their foster-to-adopt kids home.

They’d been keeping things a little close to their chests.  Clint had hypothesized it was because they were worried something would happen and they wouldn’t get to bring them home.  The same way people didn’t say they were pregnant until 12 weeks in case they end up losing it.

You did know there were three of them.  That they were all half-siblings and the age gaps were large.  The oldest was fourteen, then eight, and the youngest was four.  Aside from that, no one knew everything, so on the day they were bringing them home everyone was somehow just randomly busy in the front yard in the hopes of catching sight of them.

It was funny how many people’s front gardens suddenly needed tending.  Even Pepper was inexplicably tending the Goji berry bush in the front garden of Tony’s house.

You, Clint, and Nattie were playing with various outdoor toys.  She’d been chasing a ball around for about 20 minutes and you were just setting up her play table with paints and paper so she could finger paint.  She ran over to you with Clint in hot pursuit and slammed into your leg.  “Wassat?”  She said, banging her hands on the paper.

“Did she just say ‘what’s that’?” Clint asked as he pulled up behind her.

You blinked down at your eleven-month-old in surprise.  She’d been saying things that vaguely resembled ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ for a while but even though she’d use them to get your attention, they were never quite right and she’d mix them up or use them on other people too.  This was the first thing that actually sounded like words that meant something other than ‘hey look at me’.

“It’s paper,” you said crouching down with her.

Nattie picked up the tube of red paint.  “Wassat?”

There was a tug at your heart as Clint’s face broke out in a large smile.  He looked so completely happy at that moment you didn’t think there was a thing in the world that would ruin that mood right now.  “That’s the red paint,” he said and looked up at you excitedly.  “She’s talking.”

“She’s our smart little bean,” you said, running your fingers through Clint’s hair.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead.  Nattie pushed in close like she was trying to get in on the kiss too, and Clint started laughing and kissed her forehead too.  “You’re a pretty clever kid, Nattie,” he said.

“Bwee?”  Nattie said, looking up at him.  Her attention was soon grabbed by the dark blue minivan that was traveling down the road. “Wassat?”

“That’s a minivan.  Your uncle Bucky and Steve are both huge nerds,” Clint said, picking her up and carrying her to the fence line.  Everyone else had moved to their fences too and were watching closely as Steve and Bucky pulled up the car.

“Man, those kids are gonna feel super weird with all of us watching them,” you said.

“Yeah,” he agreed and waved at everyone to get back.  They seemed to get the drift quickly and by the time the kids were getting out of the car everyone had gone back to their gardening.  Clint put Nattie down at the table and you squirted some different colors of paint onto a plate.  She immediately slammed her hands into the paint and started to rub it over the paper as she babbled to herself.  Natasha appeared at the front gate and let herself in.

“Two boys and a girl.  The girl is the middle one,” Natasha said, crouching down at the table with Nattie.  “This is a lovely painting, Natyusha.”

“How’d everyone look?”  Clint asked as Nattie babbled and rubbed her hands quickly back and forward in the paint, so she smeared the colors all over the paper.

“The oldest looked quite wary but also like he was trying very hard to be on his best behavior.  Middle looked scared but very excited.  Steve was holding the youngest and he was hiding his face in Steve’s chest.  Steve looked like he was trying to be on his best behavior and nervous as hell.  Bucky looked scared and a little excited.”  Natasha explained as she ran her fingers through the paint too.

“Kind of exciting isn’t it?”  You asked.

“So exciting,” Natasha agreed as she painted a butterfly with her finger.

“Wassat?” Nattie asked, putting her painted hand right on the butterfly.

Natasha looked from Nattie to you back to Nattie again.  “It was a butterfly, Natyusha,” she looked back up at you again.  “She talks now?”

“Just now!” Clint said excitedly.  “She literally said that just before the car rolled up.”

“Oh my goodness, what a clever little thing you are,” Natasha said, putting a dot of paint on Nattie’s nose.  Nattie started giggled and clapping her hands.

“I don’t know, but I think this picture is done.  Shall we use fresh paper?”  You asked as you pulled the sheet away, revealing another under it.

Natasha and Nattie went back to finger painting together, this time Nattie getting a lot more paint all over herself.  As the paper got closer to being filled Bucky, Steve, and the three kids approached the house.

“Hi there,” Steve said in an overly friendly tone as you and Clint went over to the gate to meet them.  “The kids wanted to take a look around so we’re just taking a walk.”  He then introduced you and Clint to the kids.  The oldest was Emilio, then Isabella, and the youngest was Cruz.  “What's going on here?”

“We’re just doing some finger painting,” Clint said.  Cruz picked his head up from where he was still hiding, clinging to Steve.

“You want to do some painting too, buddy?” Steve asked, rubbing the little boy’s back in soothing circles.

“Dey’s so messy,” he said in a fearful voice.

“That's okay,” Bucky said gently.  “You're allowed to get messy if you like.”

“That's right, Cruz,” Emilio assured him.  “See even the grown-ups are messy.”

Cruz looked around at his siblings like he was trying to work out if it was some kind of trap.  When he seemed satisfied he nodded his head and Steve carried him in and out him down.  The little boy tentatively approached the table.  Isabella came and took his hand, leading him to it.  Natasha took the top piece of paper away revealing another fresh sheet under it and topped up the paints and Nattie straight away began to finger paint as she babbled baby talk in Cruz’s direction.

It took a little while but eventually, Cruz dipped his hands in the paint and began to paint too, though Steve ended up sitting in the ground next to him and wiping his hands with baby wipes every ten seconds to stop the little boy from panicking.

The whole time Nattie just babbled away like she was having a fantastic conversation with them.  It seemed to make Isabella relax and soon she was talking to your daughter like they were having a proper conversation, saying ‘oh that's very interesting’ and ‘I didn't know that’ and other similar things.

Clint circled his arm around your waist as he watched them and leaned in and kissed your cheek.  “This is making me really want another one,” he whispered.  “You sure you don't wanna try yet?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you scolded, nudging him.  “I want to fit into my dress.  But I'll tell you what.”  He looked at you with hopeful, expectant eyes and you leaned in close to him.  “I'll get my IUD out before the wedding and we can start trying on the honeymoon.”

“Yes!” Clint cheered, pumping his fist in the air.

You laughed and nudged him and he stumbled a little away from you.

“Hey, Clint,” Bucky said, approaching you both with Emilio.  “Wanna go in and play some Mario Kart while the little ones are painting?”

“Yeah, sure,” Clint said, giving your ass a tap before heading towards the house.  “Follow me.”

Bucky and Emilio caught up beside him, and Bucky clapped Clint on the shoulder.  “I was telling Emilio that you spent a lot of time in the Foster system.”

“Oh yeah,” Clint said, looking back at the boy.  “I can't say it's a great story but I can tell you it if you want.”

They disappeared inside and you looked down at Steve.  “You want to stay for lunch?”

He smiled up at you sheepishly as he wiped Cruz’s hands again.  “If it's not too much trouble.”

“Of course not,” you said.  “I’ll go get it started.  You okay with Nattie, Nat?”

“Of course,” she replied.

You ruffled Steve’s hair as you passed him on your way inside and went to prepare lunch for the new members of the extended Avengers family.

// NEXT

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #read insert #fluff #bartoned

[guns-n-zeppelin]

Slash imagine: Hookup at a party

Anonymous: Hey I wanted to ask if you maybe could do an imagine with the older slash, where the reader throws a party or something like that and his son's are there because the reader and his son's are friends, and he comes to pick them up and the reader is super drunk and flirts with slash and they hook up (the reader and his son's are in there early 20's) I hope you know what I mean 😅 + Sry for my bad English

Words: 2,085

Warning: SMUT (kids go away pls)

A/N: It okay, friend, your English is great. Lmao i haven't written anything guns n roses related in ageees (sorry about that everyone heh), it's over 3am rn and i don't even know what i wrote, i barely reread it lol. Hope ye like it though. Comments about how shit this is are recommended hehe.

Not sure if i'm getting back at fanfics, if i get some requests which sound interesting i might try something quick if i have time.

People were dancing to the loud music all around you, pumping at you constantly and almost making you fall on the floor. You were carrying a half empty Jack Daniels with you and trying to walk straight. You knew you were super drunk right now and a complete mess.

You had thought it was a good idea to have a party at your house and invite all these people, but it would be really hard to get everyone leave and clean up this place after you’d recover from the worst hangover. Too late now anymore.

You walked to the kitchen, took a sip from the whiskey and put it on the table. Your friend Emilio was standing next to the fridge with couple of his friends and you started walking towards them, a large smile on your face.

”Emilio, there you are! My bestest best buddy!” you basically yelled and went to hug him tightly, burying your face on his chest.

”Y/N you’re so drunk,” he laughed, but he wasn’t completely sober himself either. For a while he looked like he would vomit, but it ended up being just a false alarm this time. ”I think i’ll call my dad to pick me up.” He took his phone and started calling his dad.

”Ohh yes, call him, that’s a good idea!” you slurred and laughed, but Emilio just ignored you and went to a quieter place.

The truth was, that you had had the biggest crush on Slash, Emilio’s dad, and you always got super awkward around him. All blushing and nervous. You almost had a breakdown if he would even smile at you and say hi. You knew he was your best friend’s dad, for god’s sake, but you couldn’t help your feelings.

It didn’t take long until Slash arrived with his car in front of your house, you and Emilio already standing and waiting outside, smoking cigarette. You looked towards Slash through the car’s window, he didn’t get off his car but waited Emilio come to the car by himself.

”Well, that’s my ride,” Emilio said, ”you sure you won’t need help to get all these people leave?”

You shook your head. ”Nah, Alicia, Sophie and Nick should be enough help with that. No worries.”

Emilio gave you a hug, until he started to walk to the car, barely keeping his balance anymore. You felt your head spinning a bit too.

You kept looking and adoring Slash’s dark figure, but quickly turned your head away and felt burning blush spreading on your cheeks. When you turned to look again, he still stared at you, but then Emilio blocked the view by going to sit in the car next to his dad, completely wasted.

You watched them drive away and let a sigh out of your mouth, still feeling your heart hammering in your chest, and returned inside. There was now less people dancing, it was quite late already, but it would still take time until people would leave.

About half an hour passed, you were talking with your good friend Sophie, until your phone rang and you had to excuse yourself elsewhere. Emilio was calling you.

”Hey, what’s up?” you answered, confused why he would call you already.

”Hey, Y/N. Emilio apparently forgot some of his stuff there at your place. Wallets and stuff i guess,” Slash sighed, sounding a bit irritated because of his son. ”I’m still heading to the centrum so i could quickly come pick them up. I know he’s in no state come tomorrow himself.”

Your eyes widened when you recognised Slash’s voice and suddenly you felt like your voice had suddenly completely disappeared and you couldn’t talk anymore.

”Y/N? If it’s not a good time, i –”

”No! No, no it’s. It’s uh, yea come. You can come get them now, it’s fine,” you stuttered.

When the call ended, you stared at the screen a bit too long and rushed inside. You went to look yourself from the mirror that you wouldn’t look like a complete mess in front of Slash. You were wearing a tight white top and a black skirt, which reached just above your knees. You saw Emilio’s bag next to the couch in living room and went to get it, almost stumbling on a guy who had passed out on the floor.

Soon Slash drove in front of your house again and you took a deep breath to calm yourself down a bit better. I can do this, you repeated in your head, don’t be a fucking fool again, you can do this.

Slash got out of his car and lighted a cigarette, while you were walking towards him.

”Uh, here’s his bag,” you muttered and he put it in the backseat.

”Thanks, Y/L. Emilio passed out immediately when we got home,” Slash told you and shook his head.

You let a laugh out of your mouth and started to giggle, soon almost not able to control it, for being so drunk.

”Yea, he was pretty drunk.”

You kept standing there in front of him just a bit longer and just looked at him. He looked back at you and blew smoke out of his mouth. You turned your head away again for a moment, but then turned back at him again, now trying to collect all your courage.

”How are you doing though?” you asked, coming a step closer him.

”I’m doing fine, thank you,” he answered and smiled, a bit confused why you were suddenly standing so close, but didn’t back off away from you.

”Are you having any … woman right now?” you asked, suddenly because of alcohol feeling extremely bold. You could smell his scent and twirled his curls between your fingers, biting your lip.

He looked a bit confused and furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what you were doing. ”Hm, no i don’t. Why are you asking that?” He threw his cigarette on the ground.

”You know, i’ve always found you incredibly hot,” you admitted and let your hand wander across his chest. ”I mean … wow.” You started to giggle again and Slash’s eyebrows shot near his hairline. ”Do you think i’m pretty?” you pouted and put your arms around his neck.

”Y/N …” Slash shook his head and your heart dropped. ”We shouldn’t … you’re drunk.”

”I knew it,” you said and backed off, feeling tears forming in your eyes. ”What’s wrong with me?” you asked, not sure if you were talking to him or more to yourself. ”I’m so stupid.”

Slash suddenly grabbed your wrist and forced you to look at him again. ”Hey, nothing’s wrong with you. You are … pretty. No, you are beautiful, Y/N. I just. It’s wrong.”

Your heart was beating faster again and you came back closer.

”What’s wrong?” you came stood just a few inches away from him and didn’t break the eye contact between the two of you anymore. You put your hands around his neck again.

”I’m too old for you and you’re my son’s friend,” Slash said. ”And you are very, very drunk.”

You just rolled your eyes. ”We don’t have to tell them,” you whispered and brought your face closer to his, cupping his cheeks with your hands. ”This can be our little secret.” You started to giggle again. Slash looked around the two of you, but there was nobody near.

”Y/L –”

”Come, i’ll show you something in the garage,” you said, thinking nobody must be there, since everybody were partying either in living room or kitchen, if not passed out in the bathroom. You took Slash’s hand in yours and started dragging him behind you to the garage. Surprisingly he followed you.

You closed the garage door and it was empty, just as you thought, only your own car standing there. You turned back to Slash and as he was just trying to say something, you slammed your lips against his, taking him into a deep kiss. He was a bit unsure at first, but still kissed you back. Eventually he broke the kiss.

”You’re drunk, Y/N.”

You shook your head. ”I know what i’m doing. I want you, Slash,” you said quietly and planted a few kisses on his neck. ”I need you.”

”Don’t say that,” Slash whispered, while looking into your eyes. You grabbed a hold on his dick, feeling through his pants his growing erection. Slash hissed between his teeth and a smile spread on your face.

You slided your hand now under his pants and took his dick entirely in your hand, starting to stroke him up and down.

”Y/N …”

”Shh,” you interrupted him, took his hand and slid it under your top on your breast. ”Don’t talk, just fuck me. I want you to fuck me, Slash, right now.”

You kissed Slash again and he immediately made the kiss deeper. You took your top off, leaving you only in your bra. You opened his belt and helped him get his pants off. You pulled also down his underwear and revealed his huge erection and only by looking at it, it made you even more wet. You stroke again his dick with your hand, making him groan, and looked at him into his eyes.

”You know … i’ve always wanted to try having sex in a car.” You glanced at your car next to you and then back at Slash. You took your underpants off and let them drop on the floor, then opening the door. Before he said anything, you kissed him again and felt his hands open your bra and taking them off. After you’d also took your skirt off, you were completely naked in front of him. He scanned your body for a while, until grabbed your waist and pulled you close against his body.

”God, you’re beautiful,” Slash said and roughly grabbed your ass, making you whimper. Your heart fluttered in your chest and he went to sit in the car seat, you following right behind him. You sat on his lap, burying his cock inside you, slowly, until he had filled you completely, all of his thick length disappeared inside your vagina.

You let out a deep moan out of your mouth, you hadn’t expected him to be so big. ”Oh gosh, Slash.” You were still for a while and Slash let you take your time, keeping his hands on your ass, grabbing them roughly.

And then you started to move, up and down on him, your chest and boobs just inches from his face. Slash helped you move by holding your ass and you fastened your pace as fast as you could. You tried to keep your head from pumping on the car ceiling, but it waa harder than you first had thought.

You moaned and whimpered each time his dick hit just the right spot inside you, but you tried to be as quiet as possible, still a bit afraid someone might hear and walk in. Slash moaned too and put his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you back into a deep kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

”I’m so close, oh god, Slash,” you whimpered and he looked at you.

”Come for me,” he whispered. And then you came, orgasm running through your body, him right behind you. Both of you were just moaning messes.

You held his shoulders and tried to catch your breath for a while. You were still sitting on his lap and his hand came up to put a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled and giggled, him chuckling back at you.

The next morning you woke up from your own bed, the sun already up in the sky. You didn’t know how you’d gotten into your bed. Honestly, you didn’t remember much about the night in general and you had no idea what kind of mess was waiting for you downstairs. Though you just physically couldn’t think about it right now, due to your horrible hangover, so you put your head back on your pillow.

One thing you did remember though for sure. You would have thought it had been just a sex dream with the famous guitarist, but feeling how sore you were at the moment, you definitely knew it had actually happened and wasn’t just a fantasy in your mind.

You stared at the ceiling, deep in your thoughts, not sure at all how to face him next time you’d visit Emilio.

#guns n roses #slash #guns n roses fanfiction #slash guns n roses #slash hudson #imagine slash #slash imagine #slash fanfiction #guns n roses imagine #imagine guns n roses #gnr imagine #gnr smut #slash smut

[pazvizslaplasmathrower]

Fallen Angel! Chapter Six

Read here or on AO3

Chapter 6: Epiphany

Chapter Summary: Poe Dameron has finally made contact with one of his greatest friends, and is planning on leaving as soon as he can. While you would like be present in whatever time he has left, someone goes missing at a most unfortunate moment.

Series Summary: A Jedi planet with a cursed history. The hot shot rebel pilot with an attraction to danger. His strange arrival certainly alters your life forever.

Notes: So sorry this took so long! I had writers block, finals, and there were four hate crimes at my school so I was organizing with friends. Now that break is here I should be updating with more frequency.

Word Count: 2885

Warnings: Reader has a panic attack

xxx*xxx*xxx*xxx

“Well, that is a very, uh, weighted question, Poe Dameron.” You smiled awkwardly, noticing how he shifted in your arms. 

“Pft, I take it you don’t get that many visitors, huh, Y/N?” 

“Is it that obvious?” Gazing off wistfully, you continued, “The newest in the village is the newborn in the home a few down from me.”

    The rebel pilot gaped at you. “The newest living person on this planet is a kriffing baby?”

You shrugged, “Well, it sounds far stranger when you say it like that.”

The rest of the journey home was the children hovering around the two of you, asking Poe Dameron about his many travels, giving you a while to think of how to answer his question. While entering the village, the little ones dispersed, their parents nodding their thanks while ushering them away. Exhausted from hauling a whole grown man for over a mile, you were so relieved to finally enter your own home and set Poe Dameron on the bed before collapsing onto the run in front of the fireplace, Ravio coming to lay down on your stomach. 

“So...Are you gonna answer my question?”

It took a moment for you to respond, having relaxed into your dazed position on the floor, truthfully you would have been fine with just sleeping there for the afternoon. Little Ravio kneaded the fabric of your tunic, his claws lightly digging into your skin. You were more than happy to let the silence maintain, having become rather used to a quiet environment, though by the way Poe fiddled with his hands, it was making him quite uncomfortable. 

“That’s a pretty broad question, could ya break it down a bit, yeah?”

The pilot pursed his lips, leaning back on the bed. “Your friend, the rugged one?”

“Claude.”

“Yes,” he continued, “She is the marshal around here, but what about you, what do you do?”

“Ohh.” So it wasn’t as deep of a question as you had thought. “Well,I’ve got a couple roles, I guess. I took on the mantle of the elder who saw this town over in years past. I don’t really do that, the people run council here.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Kark,” you sighed, “A little over ten rotations I think. When his role dissolved, I became the town healer in a sense and er, a diviner of sorts I suppose. There’s a power of sorts, I guess...I have...uh...”

    “Lemme guess, the Force?” 

Immediately, you stopped staring at the ceiling, turning to look at Poe with a raised brow. “You know of it? I thought it was nothing but fairy tales to others…”

Something sparked in his eye and Poe sat up, leaning forward with a great excitement, the sort you had only seen in children before they were to tell you of something truly fantastical. 

“Man! You really don’t get out! Everyone knows how the First Order ended-”

“Wait what?” 

“The First Order.” Poe repeated again. 

You nodded, understanding what was said the first time. “What in the kriffing hell is the First Order?”

His jaw clenched, “They were the oppressive authority that up till recently tried to take over the entire galaxy.”

    Despite Ravio’s protests, you peeld him off of your front to sit up yourself, feeling another headache start. 

“No, the Empire, they are the ruling power.”

“No, they were the ruling power before the New Republic.”

Your eyes narrowed at Poe and he did the same and the both of you simply stared, expecting a clear explanation to solve the confusion. But none came. Poe seemed to know more than you did and suggested you relay all that you knew of the world as best you could. There was not much to draw on, you had grown up in the Empire’s grasp, the bastards had come for Tython early on according to your teacher. There was not much you could remember from the time, only that the village elder would often grow quite afraid on some days and would hide you in the storage shed near the pastures. When asked what had made him so frightened, he only said to not worry your little head. 

    “There were rumors the commander of the Empire frequented the village, but I only know of the one time when he came to raid the Jedi temple. It's when that bastard left i t became almost impossible to leave this planet.”

The rebel pilot regarded you carefully, his eyes often darted away to piece together what information you had given him so freely. “So the last you know of the outside world is the galaxy still being in the hands of the Empire?”

“Yeah?” Even Ravio looked at you expectantly. 

“Wait...Even if you guys are allowed to get off this rock once a year, didn’t anyone tell you anything that happened?” 

Those who were fortunate enough to get off the blasted planet either only went to the most austere of places, as not to accidentally stay longer than the allotted twenty four hours. If anyone knew of the war, they made no effort to inform you. 

Pinching your nose, you tried to wrack your brain for every tidbit of information Claude had given you on on the outings. Your brain was already so preoccupied with the village affairs and your studies of the Force, perhaps some information had slipped past. 

“Maybe Claude mentioned something but when any of us go beyond the atmosphere, keeping up with current events isn’t really the priority.” Laying back down, Ravio reclaimed his spot. 

“Huh. Well, The Empire is long gone, Y/N. There were others who tried to take power, but now the rebels are trying to help with the recovery mission.” The pilot sighed, his own gaze drifting from you to nothing in particular. “I have to get off this planet. My friends need me.”

     “I know. Why don’t you rest for a bit and then you can come to communications, yeah?”

***___***___***___***

“So I had to carry him like a lamb all the way to the Basin!” 

    Emilio nodded, still working his deft fingers on the countless wires of the communication hub station. 

“I was so kriffing scared I’d drop him because he was actually kind of heavy.” Looking at your friend, you wished he would comment on something, anything really. “I don’t get it. I expected to-to be pissed at him for crashing onto the fields.”

    Emilio set his tweezers down. “Wh-What are you trying to get at, Y/N? You wanted to hate him? I thought your Master t-taught you better than that.”

“I never wanted to hate him I guess..I guess I just wished he was the sort I could really be mad at. But then his face and the way he looked after the crash…” 

    Your dead friend adopted a knowing smile, flipping the final switch. Before your eyes, the machine roared to life, a soft blue light illuminating the inside of the dark hangar, it was stronger now than ever before. 

    “Don’t look at me like that, Emilio! What is that smile for?” You kept asking only to have the man brush off your question. 

“O-Oh, look. Your friend is here,” He snickered. “And s-so is Claude.” 

    You felt your throat clench, but tried to do away with suddenly feeling so strangely bashful. Pulling your scarf up further to hide your face, you walked forward to welcome both Poe and Claude. 

    “Thanks,” Your friend smiled in reply, “I’m glad you’re both here. Come, everything is right this way.” 

Claude let the Rebel pilot down from her arms, begrudging helping him lean against the side of the hub station. He could now put only a slight amount of pressure down on his injured leg thanks to the expert care he had under your watch. While Emilio explained the plethora of mechanical problems, you noticed Poe wrap his arms around himself in an effort to warm himself. Kark, you still had to get him new clothes. 

“Here,” you handed him the soft fabric of your scarf which he readily took, “That should help a little.”

Was...Was he smiling? His lips quivered, trying to stretch into a smile, but it just narrowly kept its passive state. 

“I-I worked a bit more on the console this morning, so it should have a strong enough signal to reach anywhere as long as it’s...well, not too far. B-Because actually I don’t know, I don’t have a reference…”

Emilio began flipping switches, the machine starting to shake ever so slightly, if it had not been made by one of your closest friends, the machine would have been doomed for destruction. When everything was set, Poe moved to the control panel, punching in a flurry of numbers, as he finished, the pilot could only eye the center with subdued worry. The idea of peeking into Poe’s mind was quite tempting, though Claude’s sudden presence could clearly be felt and you turned to see her approaching with her brow furrowed, perhaps not too happy that you sensed her right away. You were about to ask what could be bothering her, but the sudden voice that came from the holo communicator stole away your attention. 

“Poe!” 

Turning you could see a young woman, perhaps somewhere around your age, looking extremely relieved to see your new rebel friend. 

“Thank the Force you’re alright! Finn and I have been worried kriffing sick since we lost contact!”

He grinned, you could notice tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Maker, you don’t know how good it is to see you guys!”

“Where the hell are you?!” 

“Uh,” Poe glanced back at you, and the woman’s eyes followed. Too nervous to think, all you could do was step back out of view. “Tython. I’m on Tython. I crashed here a few days ago, trying to find someplace safe to land, but this kriffing planet has one hell of an atmosphere.”

    From behind you, Claude leaned in close, “Is he finally leaving?” 

Clenching your jaw, you answered, “We’ll see.”

    “Tython?” The young woman mused. “I...I feel like I’ve heard that name before in my readings. It’s a Jedi planet. Stars, how did you get there?”

    “That emergency signal was coming from around this planet,” Poe sighed, “ it turned out to be some kriffing pirates, and I had to make an emergency landing. The ship...yeah, she’s not lookin’ too pretty.”

She smiled, “Well, Finn and I can come pick you up! You’re not hurt, are you?”

    “Actually…” 

With one hand, Poe gripped your wrist, gently pulling you forward to meet his lively friend, 

“(Y/N) here, actually saved me from exploding with the craft, and put me back together.”

Heat rushed to your face, making the rest of your body sway. “H-Hi.”

    “(Y/N!)” Claude’s voice rose far too many octaves for your liking, it’s quality bordering on insanity. “I do believe you’re needed in the village, one of the older children has run off from their home. The parent’s are frantic.”

    “Oh? U-Uh, I guess I’m off then.” 

“I’ll see to it that this rebel pilot’s plans are safely executed.” Your friend stated rather coldly. 

Reluctantly, you moved to pull away from Poe’s grasp, only to have his hold harden as he turned to face you. 

“Really, (Y/N), thank you.” 

The fabric of your scarf just hid his own flustered face. 

“It’s nothing. I’m glad I could be of help to you, Poe Dameron.”

“It’s just, ah, Poe…”

 Looking at him earnestly, you could still see him quiver. “Here. If I don’t get the chance to see you…” Shrugging off your coat, you tossed it around the man’s shoulders, surprised it fit him to some degree.

    “I should be able to-”

“(Y/N)!” Claude insisted.

    In your mind you were trying to throw together something to say, something that hopefully would make you worthwhile in Poe’s memories, but nothing came forward that was really profound. Stealing another look back, you were greatly unaware of how poorly masked your own emotions were. 

    No doubt, Claude was behind your call back to the village, usually when people or animals were in any sort of trouble, she was the one to take control. Though, it was not very often that a young one actually took off on their own accord, making the situation something more sensitive than usual. Truthful, what you desired to do was order Claude to deal with the problem herself, wanting to simply be in Poe’s warm presence just a bit longer. Through the fallout of such a declaration would inevitably result in a physical conflict of some sort. 

    Still engrossed in your wistful thinking, it took several moments for you to take in the gravity of the situation, as you saw a growing crowd in the center of the marketplace. Their once boisterous arguing quieted into a tense and low murmur with your approach. 

    “Oh stars, did Claude send for you?” An older woman hurried to your side, beckoning her spouse forward. “You’re still so young, but maybe that brat will listen to someone that isn’t family…”

    “Please, (Y/N) our young Senno does not know much about the forest and I fear some damned beast will get to them!”

You decided to hold your tongue and not mention the fact that Claude’s fate was more certain than your own when it came to combat. Still, this family must have specifically asked for you, and it was common to summon the elder when problems were most severe. Such a practice had been passed down to you once your teacher had vanished. 

“I will do all I can to bring your child back safely.”

Feeling a sense of apprehension, you rushed to the thick woods, only feeling a slight chill. When the clearing faded into the dense vegetation, whatever warmth provided by the sun was lost, much to your chagrin. While Claude’s connection to the Force allowed her to enhance her strength and vigor, yours was more...malleable and susceptible to emotions. So, it was not hard to feel the great sorrow coming from deeper within. It was a strange sadness, one of loss, though to your knowledge, no one had died in the village, no creature had passed. And the heaviness gave no indication of coming of something material, then what could have been the catalyst for such dark emotions?

As the emotions grew in strength, you dared to call out, prepared if any wild animal decided to cross your path. Your own lightsaber was perfectly crafted to fit in your hand, its vibrant color reflective of the spirit within. However, when it came to technique, it felt a bit unwieldy; other methods were much more preferable. 

“Senno!” You cried, the wind swallowing a good deal of the sound. “Senno! Please!”

Surprisingly, a rattled voice answered back, “Go away! I don’t want to kriffing see anyone!”

    For a moment you stopped, taking in a breath and letting it flow out of you slowly. There was no place for reckless words. You made a silent prayer to the ancestors, for their wisdom and guidance. 

“It’s me! (Y/N)!” Climbing over a fallen tree, you could just see the form of a person a few yards off. “I won’t force you back, but please let me see that you’re okay.”

    “Kriffing hell! I just want to be alone! That’s all I got going for me!”

Keeping your gait soft, you approached holding a small med kit out to prove your intentions. Young Senno looked up at you from where she sat, her dark hair matted and face caked in tears. Those silver eyes had hints of red, most likely due to rubbing far to roughly. 

    “Here,” handing her a water bottle, you could see no signs of physical damage, making this mission a bit easier. 

Senno snatched it from your grasp, popping the cap off and emptying it in a matter of seconds. Glaring at you, she tossed the container somewhere to the side. Oh, youth. 

Sitting with your legs crossed, you faced the girl who once again curled in on herself. 

“It’s impressive you made it this far out. Many your age are too fearful of the Manka Cats, other creatures and the flesh raiders.”

“I’d rather get eaten by a kriffing Maka Cat than live another day on the stupid planet!”

Oh. 

The sentiment was shared, though you could not let that show in the present moment. 

“Would you like to just yell about it?” You offered. “Even if something hears, I can drive them off.”

Senno turned her head to the side, only looking at you with one eye. There was something malicious in the way the girl scrutinized your being. The bit of her lip that showed curled up making the chapped skin split. The feeling of sorrow was replaced with another sensation, it was not anything...terrible, but rather something bright; a new revelation realized. 

“So you really wanna know?” She croaked, unfurling her body. 

No. 

    “I am more than happy to listen, Senno. I know things in this place can be more than one can handle.” Your heart beat faster. 

Moving to her knees, the girl’s wild expression turned grim. Now you recognized her. This was the one that Claude wanted to take under her wing to train as the future Master of Arms. Now that the girl was of age, that training could actually begin, and by looking at her clothing, today must have been her birthday. 

“They’ve been lying to you this whole time, (Y/N).” She started. 

“Wait,” you began, rubbing the sides of your temples, “this is about you. What’s made you so upset that you ran off from your parents and into the kriffing woods?”

    “I’m getting to that!” Senno growled. “That pilot, the one that crashed isn’t it weird that he was able to make it through and land on the planet in one piece?”

    “I mean, yes. I was supposed to have a premonition…”

“But you didn’t. At least not on time.” The girl inched closer. “And when did the need for predicting the Opening of the Skies start?”

“Around the rise of the Empire. When that Sith lord came here for the first time.” Rather than a release of anger, this has quickly turned into an interrogation of sorts. 

“Hm. Think (Y/N)! I swear you are somehow the most oblivious idiot!”

“Senno…”

She quickly flustered, grimacing at her own words. “Sorry! I-I just…Well think about it! For your whole kriffing life you’ve been stuck on this cold rock! You’re the only one that’s not allowed to leave the planet when the skies ‘open’!”

Jumping to your feet, you nearly tripped over your feet, that headache worsening with each second. Perhaps the young one had too much celebratory wine. 

“Come, I’ll lead us back to the village.”

In order to entice Senno to follow, you started to slowly walk away, wishing the kid would just stop talking altogether. She was eating up what precious time you had left to hopefully see Poe off on his attempt to leave. 

    “STOP!”

Senno’s shriek was shrill enough to make your ears ring. Turning on the heel of your boot, you were prepared to abandon all the composure you had asked the ancestors for. Those words of reprimanding never came to pass your lips. 

“You could have left any time you wanted! You could have left! You’ve been free this whole kriffing time!”

The trees began to spin rapidly around, swirling, becoming a mixture of rich color. The girl was a subject of focus, but then she too became very hard to discern from the rest of your surroundings as everything came together in one strange, chaotic medley. For a long while all you could do was brace yourself on the forest floor, taking in deep breaths in order to stay conscious. 

#sw #star wars #star wars fic #fic #fiction #fanfic #text #sw fic #sw fanfic #sw fanfiction #poe #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #reader x poe dameron #poe dameorn x reader #y/n insert #reader insert

[hecohansen31]

Can I please get Duncan Shepard spoiling the little reader 💓

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

Of course you can and I hope this doesn’t suck too much, because I wrote it in a bad headstate, so I hope it doesn’t suck too much, and I am always here for more little! reader… I am working on another fic about it… so be on the lookout for it!

WARNINGS: DDLG Themes, Little! Reader, Daddy Kink, Rainy Days.

You hated rainy days.

Not only because they were cold (and when there was any kind of thunder or lightning you would be found under kilos of blankets and sheets) but because they stopped you from going out outside.

Mostly in the days you could spend with your daddy, who was a very busy man, so you treasured the nights and days spent together.

You had planned to go out for a nice breakfast in your favorite place, the one that was too greasy for Duncan, but you loved with all your heart, so he tolerated it for you (and he quite liked it, although he wouldn’t admit it).

Then you had already settled on a nice walk through your favorite park, so that you could fed the pigeons, meanwhile you twirled all around in the pretty white dress Duncan had gifted you for your anniversary.

Then it was the time for the little gallery, in town you had discovered on the internet, which showcased one of your favorite artists, and you knew already that Duncan would be more than thrilled to have some fun with you, as you wandered for the corridors, closed just for you two.

And then the night would be spent at home, since you probably would feel extremely tired, and a good Disney movie would be the remedy for it, meanwhile you shared your favorite take-out with Duncan.

Eventually falling asleep on the man, had you felt like you weren’t in the mood for a “desert”…

But none of those plans would be happening now, since rain had threatened your day, and feeling extremely bratty you stomped your foot to the ground, hoping that this would make the weather change, but it didn’t and you just hid with a terrible frown under your favorite blanket, the one with disney princesses.

Duncan came at you, after he had managed to set up everything for your breakfast.

He hadn’t minded the weather too much attention, since he hadn’t cared whether you spent your day together at home or outside, but he had kind of smelled off your bad mood from the start, coming at you with a mug full of hot cocoa, as a peace offering.

“Hey, sweetheart, can you come out of your castle for me?” he asked gently, as he faced your blanket cocoon, getting a slight shake of your shoulder, an obvious no.

“If this is my castle, then, daddy, you should call me a princess” you replied, showing your spoiled and regal face to Duncan, who moved the mug, which he had in his hands onto the little coffe table next to the sofa, not wanting some of it to spill out, then he gently grabbed the blankets cocoon, and shook it gently, catching your attention.

“Please, forget me, your majesty” he huffed, faking an apology “… I meant no harm to your royals status, I don’t think that a common girl could be just as beautiful as you, my princess”.

Laughter erupted by the blanket, although he knew that your bad mood was far from over.

But it was a good start.

You came out, lured by the smell of hot cocoa, more than by Duncan’s praises.

And although you already hated today, you felt a bit better after your tummy was full of chocolate, but Duncan had understood that you weren’t in your best mood so he was looking behind the reason why, you were as stormy inside as the weather outside.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, settling himself up beside you, as he came back in the living room with a cup of coffe for himself, meanwhile you occupied the three quarters of it.

“I just hate rain” and from the harsh glare you sent to the water pouring outside he knew you weren’t joking “…. we were supposed to have a wonderful day, daddy! I had already planned it!”.

And then you had explained any activity you had planned for you two for that day, effectively surprising Duncan, who gifted you with a soft “good girl” as you neared the end of your plan.

“That would have been truly delightful” he commented: it was truly heartwarming for him to know that you wanted to spend so much time with him, it made him feel like you were trusting him and wanted him as your caregiver “… but the rain doesn’t mean that it can’t happen”.

His eyes shone with intensity and you knew that he had some ideas.

“… but daddy! We can’t go to the park or we’ll catch a cold!” you reminded him.

“You are right, my smart baby” his smirk was nothing sort of dull “… but I am pretty sure that your room might be even bigger than the park, so can you wait for me there?”.

You huffed, again annoyed, but the fact that Duncan somehow had a plan brought you some relief to your “stormy” mood: weren’t you lucky to have such a dedicate daddy?

“Don’t be too late or I’ll give your tea to Emilio!” You threatened, before scurrying off, thinking about which stuffed animal would sit to your right and which to your left.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, baby” he commented, meanwhile he went to get his phone.

———

A few hours of playing “pretty princesses” with Duncan (and something for which you had needed to turn your stuffed animals, so they wouldn’t witness you and Duncan getting naughty), your lunch finally came.

But it wasn’t only the catering system that had come with your food, but some pretty stern looking guys with enormous boxes, which Duncan welcomed inside.

You immediately clutched onto his arm, scared of all the strangers, suddenly coming to your house, and Duncan gently ushered you, cooing softly in your ear, meanwhile he softly caressed your hair.

“You said that you wanted to visit the gallery and since we can’t go there, I thought about ‘bringing the gallery to you’ ” he smiled as the men who had brought the boxes inside, revealed the painting under big and dark sheets of fabric they used to protect them.

“Daddy this is too much!” you muttered, embarassed but Duncan simply looked at you, meanwhile you both moved onto the couch so that they could show you all the exhibition from a more secluded and comfortable position, and uttered.

“There is no such thing as ‘too much’ for my good girl” he had smooched your forehead, before he mentioned to the exhibition director to start his introduction, meanwhile the other two moved the picture, making you read their clumsy antics.

This entire gig lasted two hours, before you eventually grow a tad annoyed and restless and were unable to continue on just listening.

But fear not because Duncan had already planned something else.

And the door ringed again, but this time a flock of people with dress-bags came in, showcasing famous names of researched boutiques, and some of the people coming in were even tailors, coming with their tools to tailor you a dress just for your figure.

And you had quite your fun moving around and twirling happily in your skirt, or moving up and down in your newest heels, meanwhile Duncan kept your sippy cup filled with sparkling juice, meanwhile he himself tried something on.

Eventually also the shopping got the best of you and you were bored, and a tad tired because of the eventful afternoon and Duncan seemed ready to have another plan…

… but you had no more energy.

“I think that I want to sleep the excitement off, daddy”.

“Oh, are you sure, sweetie?” he asked softly, cooing at you and moving away his phone to take a good look at you “… well I am pretty sure that avoiding your afternoon nap didn’t help”

“But I was having too much fun, daddy!” you protested, and Duncan simply relented smiling softly, gently picking you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist, meanwhile you nestled your face in his shoulder “… you are such a good daddy”.

“And you a spoiled brat” at your protesting punc on his shoulder he let out a laugh “… my beloved spoiled brat”

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd reader #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd fic #duncan shepherd fluff #duncan shepherd ask #duncan shepherd blurb #duncan shepherd drabble #duncan shepherd fanfic #duncan shepherd fan fic #duncan shepherd onehsot #duncan shepherd one shot #duncan shepherd moodboard #hoc #house of cards #house of cards imagine

[italian-sides]

“Ombre e Bastoni”, ch. 3

Hello again! As usual, thank you so much to @misslilidelaney for writing this and @watcher-from-the-heights for being my awesome beta all the time.  I also tag @ts-italian-gang, because I can and I want to. If you want, you can support the fic on AO3 too! Imma post the third chapter as soon as I finish posting it here on Tumblr.  Anyway, enjoy! Whenever Emilio Picani walked into the Dolce&Remì, all heads turned. Even if he lived in Bologna on a permanent basis for three years by now, he didn't know why everybody there, especially the usual people, laid eyes on him as they didn't for other customers. And yet he wasn’t that flashy or even fashionable. Sure, he was tall, he had fine features and an enjoyable physique, but he wasn't that special. He was just a nice guy, with his passion for colorful ties and pastel cardigans. Of course, he knew very well that he had been in the sights of a couple of them for a long time: he well remembered Romolo's ruthless flirting and Virgil's stuttering when he asked him to be his tutor on the subjects that he himself studied before opening his own therapy office in Bologna. And no one, not even his roommate Remo, knew how he opened Luca's eyes to his cousin Patrizio, whom Emilio loved with all his heart. All three boys were undoubtedly beautiful, charismatic and, in their own way, interesting. Yet he couldn't accept their court. Because 30-year-old Emilio Picani hadn’t decided to come out yet. Partially due to his parents, fervent Catholics unlike him, but mostly because surprise surprise... Emilio Picani was shy. And before the bar, the usual places where he felt at home were his office and his room, where he surrounded himself with memorabilia from cartoons and anime, things that fascinated him since adolescence. In short his shyness, mixed with the stereotype of the glittery, feather-filled homosexuals he was accustomed to by his parents, always kept him away from the whole LGBT world, which the psychologist didn't feel a part of. He envied his little Emilian cousin when he came out as pansexual, and he knew very well that sooner or later, hanging out with Patrizio's clique, he had to decide, too, to get out of the closet. So he declined Romolo's declaration for that very reason. Although it wasn’t the only reason. The second reason was... slightly taller than him. His shoulders were wide, although he often slouched, making himself about ten centimetres shorter in height. He had bright green eyes, almost to an unnatural extent. He had his hair shaved on the sides but with a thick quiff on top, which he held back with a yellow headband, clearly his favorite color. He rarely laughed, but when he did, it was a low, deep laugh, able to literally shake the Veronese's stomach. And he was from Veneto, like him. His second piece of home, after Patrizio. Emilio Picani, thirty years old, a therapist and still in the closet. But completely gay for Giuda Schiavon. He was convinced of that by now. He tried to deny it, to say that it was just his imagination. Everyone at the bar loved him, they laughed with him, they confided in him, sometimes for sentimental nonsense, sometimes for more serious consultations. Tommaso became one of his patients from the first day that he finally opened his office, and the two were now pretty close, almost like brothers. He was the first to whom Emilio confessed his sexual orientation. Tommaso embraced him and murmured: "Don’t worry, nobody figured it out." They laughed, and the Veronese immediately called his cousin, who promised not to say anything, for the time being, to anyone, not even his significant other, Luca.  Unfortunately, not even Tommaso could dispel Emilio’s doubts. Those doubts that by now became certainties, in those three years, and devastated the psychologist. Giuda, his beautiful, silent, mysterious and fascinating Giuda, couldn't even bear the sight of the Veronese. He never treated him badly, but Emilio couldn't help but notice how he changed his attitude whenever he walked in.

He often looked at him from the bar's window. He looked at him for a long time, laughing and joking with everyone, even with Virgilio, and by now he could read his expressions without hearing him speak, just by observing him. So he knew that the coldness he showed him was real.   As his eyes became slits, as his words became cold hisses, rarely addressed to Emilio. Never openly unsympathetic, but incredibly icy. And apparently, whatever he had to do in the kitchen, he always had to do it when he walked in. But no one knew about his crush, except for Patrizio, who after all read him like an open book. And not even Patrizio could understand the change of mood of the Venetian, in the presence of his cousin. The young Bolognese tried to convince his cousin to surrender, or at least to talk to him, and this was precisely the reason why Emilio pushed himself, thanks to a nice glass of Millesimato di Conegliano, to speak, perhaps for the third time in three years, to Giuda in the bar.  And that made the dishwasher guy so nervous that he dropped the glasses' tray in his hand. "You're welcome.", the Venetian hissed,  looking at him, for the first time in three years, in the eyes.

A rush ran through Emilio’s body. An electric shock like he never experienced before. Joined by an endless lump in his throat for what just happened. As soon as Giuda wandered off to take the broom to sweep up the floor, followed by Remo, Emilio stood up and tried to go around the counter to pick up the glass pieces but Tommas ostopped him right away.  "You're gonna hurt yourself. You get paper cuts all the time, can you imagine what would happen with glass?"

"But... Giuda..." Tommaso sighed and perhaps understood: "Giuda will be fine. It's not the first time he’s spilled glasses. Maybe he should calm down a bit; if he hadn't been so tense he wouldn’t have dropped them. Don’t even think it’s your fault." Emilio sighed, taking off his glasses and shaking his head: "But it is my fault." Patrizio approached him, and put his hand on his shoulder again. Luca was behind them and suggested, matter-of-factly: "Emilio, do you want to get some air?" The Veronese nodded carelessly and they went outside. Despite Patrizio's dirty look, the Veronese automatically extracted his pack of cigarillos and lit one. As he blew out the smoke from the miniature cigar, he kept looking inside the bar. And he saw Giuda, with his yellow gloves, going up on the counter and looking around. He'd been... crying? His eyes, particularly the left one, were tremendously red. The sigh, undoubtedly of relief, emitted by the young Venetian followed by the hand on Remo’s shoulder,  definitely devastated the 30-year-old. Patrizio was watching the scene next to him, and he murmured: "He acts like he’s the victim when he actually did it all by himself. What a two-faced snake..." "Patrizio, please...", begged the Veronese. "Please what? He dropped the glasses, not you. You just thanked him, Emi. I don’t know how you can like someone like t..." Patrizio opened his eyes wide and shut his mouth with one hand. But the damage had been already done. Luca was looking at both of them with his eyes wide open like a deer in front of headlights. He looked at them both with shock, Emilio who by now had given up and begun to silently cry, pulling from the cigarillo like a madman, and Patrizio who continued to whisper his apologies. And he cleared his voice pretty nicely before asking, with kindness, despite the hard accent typical of his region: "Do you want to come to our house for some hot tea? I’m sure we can raid some of Romolo's nicest cookies." Emilio nodded, and his cousin’s boyfriend took them both under his arm, taking them away from the Dolce&Remì. The boy giggled when, while stepping into the living room, they surprised Virgilio and Romolo sitting on the couch and hugging each other, watching Mulan on Blu-ray, claiming to have fallen asleep, not noticing the compromising position. He silently watched Luca hugging Patrizio from behind, whispering something in his ear while the young Emilian was preparing tea for all of them. And he widened his eyes in terror when both the Molisan and the Roman confessed that they had noticed his crush on Giuda probably before Emilio admitted it to himself. The evening passed quickly, almost too quickly, between the teasing towards Emilio for his questionable choice - Romolo was still so mad at him, for obvious reasons - and when it was time to go home, Emilio thought of staying in his cousin’s apartment with his three lovely roommates. But he knew that in that same building, his roommate Remo was coming home. So he kissed his cousin on the forehead and hugged the other three, and took the elevator home. Once the door was open, he found Remo looking at something on the computer, in the dark of the dining room: "Oh, hey, Emì. You ran off to your cousin? Giuda wanted to apologize for treating you so badly." Right. He had such a sorry face. "Actually, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I made him destroy the glasses and I ran away. Holy crap, I've been a jerk. I hope he doesn’t throw a chair at me the next time I walk into the bar." "C'moooon. Giuda smashes glasses, and not only those, more than he could ever admit!", laughed the Roman, before yawning loudly and getting out of the chair: "Listen... I wanted to do something nice at the bar... Something that can involve young people but traditional at the same time. If we had a briscola tournament [1], would you like to play?" "Holy crap! Are you seriously asking me? I love briscola!" "Alright, bruh. C'mon then, I’ll talk to Tommy tomorrow and see what we can do about it. If you don’t come to play, I’ll never talk to you again!" Emilio nodded and Remo went to his room, a little diabolical smile on his face.

[1]: according to Wikipedia, "Briscola is one of Italy's most popular games, a Mediterranean trick-taking, Ace-Ten card game for two to six players played with a standard Italian 40-card deck. With three or six players, twos are removed from the deck to ensure the number of cards in the deck is a multiple of the number of players; a single two for three players and all four twos for six players. The four- and six-player versions of the game are played as a partnership game of two teams, with players seated such that every player is adjacent to two opponents."

1 - 2 - 3 - ?

hope you enjoyed, ciao! 

Quando Emilio Picani entrava al Dolce&Remì, tutte le teste si giravano. Anche se ormai viveva a Bologna in pianta stabile da 3 anni e poco più, non sapeva perché tutti i presenti, specialmente i soliti noti, posavano lo sguardo su di lui come non facevano per gli altri clienti del bar. Eppure non era così appariscente o alla moda. Certo, era alto, aveva dei bei lineamenti ed un bel fisico, ma non era così speciale. Era semplicemente un bel ragazzo, con la sua passione per le cravatte colorate ed i cardigan color pastello. Certo, sapeva benissimo di essere stato nelle mire di un paio di loro per un lungo periodo, ricordava bene la corte spietata di Romolo e il balbettare di Virgilio quando gli aveva proposto di dargli ripetizioni sulle materie che lui stesso aveva studiato prima di aprire il suo studio a Bologna. E nessuno, nemmeno il suo coinquilino Remo, sapeva di come avesse aperto, con le cattive, gli occhi di Luca nei confronti di suo cugino Patrizio, che Emilio adorava con tutto il cuore. Tutti e tre i ragazzi erano indubbiamente bellissimi, carismatici e comunque, a loro modo, interessanti. Eppure non poteva accettare la loro corte. Perché Emilio Picani, trent'anni, ancora non si era deciso a fare coming out. Un po' per i genitori, ferventi cattolici al contrario di lui, ma soprattutto perché sorpresa sorpresa... Emilio Picani era timido. E prima del bar, i soli posti dove si sentiva a casa erano il suo studio e la sua camera, dove si circondava di memorabilia a tema cartoon ed anime, cose che lo appassionavano sin dall'adolescenza. Ed insomma, la sua timidezza, mista allo stereotipo degli omosessuali glitterati e pieni di piume a cui lo avevano abituato, lo avevano sempre tenuto in disparte da tutto il mondo legato ai gay, del quale lo psicologo non si sentiva parte. Aveva invidiato il suo piccolo cuginetto emiliano quando aveva ammesso di essere pansessuale, e sapeva benissimo che prima o poi, frequentando la compagnia di Patrizio, si sarebbe dovuto decidere anche lui, ad uscire dall'armadio. Quindi aveva declinato la dichiarazione di Romolo, proprio per quel motivo. Anche se non era proprio l'unico. Il secondo motivo era... poco più alto di lui. Aveva le spalle larghe, anche se spesso le teneva ricurve, togliendosi una decina di centimetri buoni. Aveva gli occhi di un verde intenso, quasi innaturale. Aveva i capelli rasati attorno alla testa ma un folto ciuffo al di sopra, che teneva indietro con un cerchietto giallo, palesemente il suo colore preferito. Rideva raramente, ma quando lo faceva, era una risata bassa, profonda, capace di scuotere lo stomaco del veronese. 

Ed era veneto, come lui. Il suo secondo pezzo di casa, dopo Patrizio.

Emilio Picani, trent'anni, psicologo, omosessuale ancora nell'armadio. Ma completamente gay per Giuda Schiavon.

Ormai ne era convinto. Aveva cercato di negarlo, di dirsi che era solo una sua impressione, la sua immaginazione. Tutti, in quel bar, lo adoravano, ridevano con lui, si confidavano con lui, a volte per sciocchezze sentimentali, a volte per dei consulti più seri. Tommaso era suo paziente dal primo giorno che aveva aperto, finalmente, il suo studio, ed i due erano ormai uniti come fratelli. Era stato il primo a cui Emilio aveva confessato il suo orientamento sessuale. Tommaso lo aveva abbracciato e aveva mormorato: "Tranquillo che non lo ha capito nessuno." Avevano riso, ed il veronese aveva chiamato subito il cugino, che aveva promesso di non dirlo, per il momento, neanche alla sua dolce metà, Luca. Sfortunatamente, nemmeno Tommaso era riuscito a dissipare i dubbi di Emilio. Quei dubbi che ormai erano diventati certezze, in quei tre anni, ed avevano devastato lo psicologo. Giuda, il suo bellissimo, silenzioso, misterioso ed affascinante Giuda, non riusciva nemmeno a sopportare la vista del veronese. Non lo aveva mai trattato male, ma Emilio non poteva non notare come cambiava atteggiamento quando lui arrivava. Spesso lo guardava dalla vetrata del bar. Lo guardava per un bel pezzo, ridere e scherzare con tutti, persino con Virgilio, ed ormai riusciva a leggerne l'espressione senza sentirlo parlare, solo osservandolo. Quindi sapeva bene che era vera, la freddezza che dimostrava nei suoi confronti. Come i suoi occhi diventavano fessure, come le parole diventavano freddi sibili, raramente rivolti ad Emilio. Mai apertamente antipatico, ma incredibilmente glaciale. Ed a quanto pare, qualsiasi cosa dovesse fare in cucina, doveva sempre farla quando arrivava lui. Nessuno però sapeva di questa sua cotta, ad esclusione di Patrizio, che dopotutto lo leggeva come un libro aperto. E nemmeno Patrizio riusciva a comprendere il cambio di umore del veneziano, in presenza del cugino. Il giovane bolognese aveva cercato di convincere il cugino ad arrendersi, o almeno a parlare con lui, ed era proprio questo il motivo aveva spinto Emilio a ringraziare, complice un bicchiere di buon Millesimato di Conegliano, a parlare, forse per la terza volta in tre anni, Giuda ad alta voce nel bar.    E questo aveva snervato talmente tanto il lavapiatti, che aveva fatto cadere il vassoio di bicchieri che aveva tra le mani. "Prego." Aveva sibilato il veneziano guardandolo, per la prima volta in tre anni, negli occhi. Ed un brivido aveva percorso il corpo di Emilio. Una scarica elettrica come non ne aveva mai provate prima. Accompagnata da un magone infinito per quanto era successo. Appena Giuda si era allontanato per prendere la scopa per spazzare, seguito a ruota da Remo, Emilio si era alzato in piedi ed aveva cercato di aggirare il bancone per tirare su i cocci, ma Tommaso lo aveva fermato. "Ti farai male. Ti tagli anche con la carta, cosa vuoi fare coi bicchieri?"    "Ma... Giuda..." Tommaso aveva sospirato, e forse aveva compreso: "Giuda se la caverà. Non è mica la prima volta che fa piovere bicchieri. Forse dovrebbe calmarsi un po', non fosse stato così teso non li avrebbe fatti cadere. Non provarci nemmeno a pensare che sia colpa tua." Emilio aveva sospirato, togliendosi gli occhiali e scuotendo la testa. "Ma è colpa mia." Patrizio si era avvicinato, e gli aveva messo di nuovo la mano sulla spalla. Luca era dietro di loro, ed aveva proposto, pragmatico. "Emilio, vuoi uscire a prendere un po' d'aria?" Il veronese aveva annuito distrattamente, ed erano usciti. Nonostante l'occhiataccia di Patrizio, il veronese aveva in automatico estratto il suo pacchetto di cigarilli, e se ne era acceso uno. Mentre tirava dal sigaro in miniatura, aveva continuato a guardare dentro il bar. Ed aveva viso Giuda coi suoi guanti gialli, salire sul bancone e guardarsi attorno. Aveva... pianto? I suoi occhi, in particolare quello sinistro, erano tremendamente rossi. Il sospiro, indubbiamente di sollievo, emesso dal giovane veneziano seguito dalla mano sulla spalla di Remo, aveva devastato definitivamente il trentenne. Patrizio stava guardando la scena accanto a lui, ed aveva mormorato: "Sembra quasi che sia lui la vittima. Quando invece ha fatto tutto da solo. Che razza di falso..." "Patrizio, per favore...", aveva implorato il veronese. "Per favore cosa? È lui che ha fatto cadere i bicchieri, non tu. Tu lo hai solo ringraziato, Emi. Non capisco come fa a piacerti uno c...." Patrizio aveva spalancato gli occhi e si era tappato la bocca con una mano. Ma ormai il danno era fatto.  Luca stava guardando entrambi con gli occhi spalancati come un cervo davanti a dei fari. Aveva guardato entrambi con fare sconvolto, Emilio che ormai si era arreso ed aveva iniziato a piangere silenziosamente, tirando dal cigarillo come un ossesso, Patrizio che continuava a sussurrare le sue scuse. 

E si era schiarito ben bene la voce prima di chiedere, gentilmente nonostante l'accento duro tipico della sua regione: "Vuoi venire a casa nostra a bere un thè? Sono sicuro che riusciamo a saccheggiarne di quelli buoni di Romolo." Emilio aveva annuito, ed il ragazzo del cugino aveva preso entrambi sottobraccio, portandoli via dal Dolce&Remì. Il ragazzo aveva ridacchiato quando entrando, avevano sorpreso Virgilio e Romolo seduti sul divano uno addosso all'altro, a guardare Mulan in Bluray, asserendo di essersi addormentati e di non essersi accorti della posizione compromettente. Aveva osservato in silenzio Luca abbracciare Patrizio alle spalle, sussurrandogli qualcosa mentre il giovane emiliano preparava il thè per tutti. Ed aveva spalancato gli occhi terrorizzato quando sia il molisano che il romano, avevano confessato che si erano accorti della sua cotta per Giuda da probabilmente prima di quando Emilio lo aveva ammesso a sé stesso. La serata era passata in fretta, troppo in fretta, tra prese per i fondelli ad Emilio per la sua scelta discutibile (Romolo ce l'aveva particolarmente a morte, per ovvi motivi), e quando era stato il momento di tornare a casa, Emilio aveva pensato di restare a dormire nell'appartamento del cugino e dei suoi tre adorabili coinquilini. Ma sapeva bene che, in quello stesso palazzo, il suo coinquilino Remo stava rientrando. Quindi aveva baciato sulla fronte il cugino ed abbracciato forte gli altri tre, ed aveva preso l'ascensore per tornare a casa. Una volta aperta la porta, aveva trovato Remo guardare qualcosa al pc, al buio della sala da pranzo. "A Emì. Te ne sei scappato da tuo cugino? Giuda se voleva scusà per avette trattato come l'ultimo deji stronzi."    Come no. Aveva proprio la faccia dispiaciuta. "Ma mi dovrei scusare io. Gli ho fatto distruggere i bicchieri e sono scappato. Porco can, mi sono comportato di merda. Spero non mi tiri addosso una sedia la prima volta che entro in bar." "Ma vaaaa. Giuda spacca i bicchieri, e non solo, più di quanto potrebbe mai ammettere!", aveva riso il romano, prima di sbadigliare rumorosamente ed alzarsi dalla sedia. "Ascolta... Volevo fare un qualcosa di carino al bar... Qualcosa che possa coinvolgere sia i giovani ma sia qualcosa di tipico. Se facessi un torneo di briscola, tu giocheresti?" "Porco can! Ma me lo chiedi? Adoro la briscola!" "Bella zì. Allora dai, che domani parlo con Tommy e vediamo il da farci. Guarda che se nun vieni a giocà te tolgo er saluto!" Emilio aveva annuito e Remo si era diretto in camera, un sorrisetto diabolico in faccia.

#thomas sanders #thomas sanders au #sanders sides #sanders sides au #ts deceit #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #emile picani #ts emile #deceit sanders x emile picani #emceit #cartoon therapy #italian au #italian!au #giuda schiavon #emilio picani #logicality #remy sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #other's people stuff #ff #fanfic #fanfiction #au

[brokehorrorfan]

Interview: Richard Brake (3 from Hell, Mandy)

Actor Richard Brake discusses teaming up with the Firefly clan in Rob Zombie’s 3 from Hell, which will be playing in theaters nationwide on September 16-18 via Fathom Events. We also chat about his earlier collaborations with Zombie and working with Nicolas Cage in Mandy.

Can you begin by telling us how you got involved in 3 from Hell?

As always with Rob [Zombie, writer-director], I tend to get a text or an email or a phone call - I think in this case it was a text - saying, "What are you doing in such-and-such amount of time?" And I say, "Nothing." When it comes to Rob Zombie, I am always free and ready to work with him, because he is an absolute genius. I love working with him. Basically, Rob got in touch and asked if I was I was interested. I said, "Are you kidding? Of course I am!" And then he told me more about the role and the story, and I was over the moon that he involved me.

Without giving anything away, what was your first reaction upon learning that you're one of the main characters?

I was incredibly thrilled and, to be honest with you, very honored and very grateful to Rob. I'd be happy to do one line or a hundred lines in a Rob Zombie film. Any time I work with him is incredibly inspiring just being around him. He's like if you took an oil rig, and you stuck it into the ground of creativity, it just comes exploding out of him, so that everyone around him feels immersed in this creative energy that's unlike anything I've experienced before. Just to be part of it was a huge thrill, and then of course I was very honored that he asked me to play such a role as well.

Did you feel any added pressure knowing that you're joining a beloved franchise?

None whatsoever, actually. What I loved is that [my character] Foxy is a whole new element in this world. It was more the challenge of coming in and bringing this new flavor into this world that's already established, but it also has a lot of other new elements coming into it as well. It was great to be able to bring something fresh and new to the Firefly world in the form of Foxy.

What was it like working so closely with people who reprising their established characters, particularly Bill Moseley and Sheri Moon Zombie?

I just think they're brilliant. I've worked with Sheri before, and she's a fantastic actor. My favorite scenes in 31 are the final scenes that we do together, and they're my favorite because she's so brilliant in them. Knowing that she was playing this role of Baby that she's embodied so brilliantly, and Bill with Otis, it was almost like a lesson for me watching the two of them work and finding my place inside that clan.

I hadn't worked with Bill before, so I was really excited to work with him. He's such a great actor; not just the stuff he's done with Rob but also the other work he's done. What was great was experiencing it one-on-one with him, and in doing those scenes with him, now I know why he's such a great actor. He's incredibly free, incredibly professional, and incredibly generous as an actor.

The three of us just riffed together so many times. I could feel the chemistry from day one, and from what I'm hearing it seems to be coming through in the film as well, so I'm really excited about that.

You can definitely feel it.

Thanks, man. I'm so pleased.

The movie, like much of Rob Zombie's work, has a lot of genre favorites and character actors in smaller roles. Do any of the cameos stick out in your mind as being particularly memorable?

What was memorable was coming in every day and finding another great character actor to work with. I just adored it. Like Richard Edson; I was a big fan of Jim Jarmusch's early films, and Richard had done those. It was great fun working with him. And Clint Howard, he's just a great actor. It was always like, "Which surprising little cameo are we going to have in today?" Oh, and Emilio Rivera. He has a bigger role, but he's just an incredibly lovely guy. It was brilliant having him as my nemesis.

That's the thing about Rob; everybody wants to work with him. Even if they come in and just do one scene, everybody drops everything and immediately shows up on a Rob Zombie set, because they want to work with the guy. He is just such a genius.

Speaking of Rob, you mentioned your previous collaboration on 31, in which I'd say you stole the show, and before that you had a small but memorable part in Halloween II. How did you get on his radar in the first place?

With Rob, you audition. You go on tape if you he doesn't know your work. So I went on tape for the "corpse shagging" scene. The next thing I know, a week later, I got a call from my agent saying, "Rob Zombie wants you to be in Halloween II." Obviously I was incredibly thrilled, but within about 40 seconds I began to shit myself, thinking, "Oh, my god, this crazy director." [laughs] When I met him, of course he turns out to be the sweetest, most professional, total gem of a director that I could ever imagine. That's how we got involved on Halloween II. Once he knows your work and he's happy with you, if he has something that he thinks you're right for, he sends you that text: "What are you doing in February?" [laughs]

Before we wrap up, I'd love to hear about your experience on Mandy, which was one of my favorite films of last year.

Oh, thanks. That one just came out of the blue. I auditioned for that, and it was the fastest that I've ever gotten a call. Two hours later, my agent called and said that Panos [Cosmatos, director] wanted me in it. When I saw Panos subsequently I learned that he was a big fan of Rob's, so he'd actually already seen me in 31 and didn't realize it at first until he watched back the tape of me doing the crazy chemist. I went in for a one-night shoot and just had a blast. Panos is a visionary; very, very similar to Rob in terms of the energy. I think the two of them recently met and had about eight espressos and send me a picture of the two of them chatting.

I couldn't express how incredible Nicolas Cage is. He stood there the whole time while I was doing my lines. They could have put anybody in to stand there while I was doing my crazy monologue at him, but he actually stood there, fully focused, take after take after take. That says something about how committed he is as an actor even after all these years and after that much fame.

#richard brake #3 from hell #three from hell #rob zombie #mandy #nicolas cage #interview #article #bill moseley #sheri moon zombie #sheri moon #sid haig #halloween #halloween ii #halloween 2

[amnachil]

The College Society Chapter 2 Part 5

The next part !

Liam Tuesday December 18

It was the second tuesday in a row when Liam had to woke up early. Maybe he had been cursed by a witch. This time, it was his mother Rachel who showed up. And she had bad news. The poor lad was convoked by the judge to testify against her. His dad and his lawyer ploted the whole thing. And Rachel might lost her visitations rights.

Afterwards began a real time of chaos. Once his mother left in tears because she feared to lose absolutely everything, Liam went bersek. He destroyed his furnitures while screaming with anger and pain. Nick hid with the console in his bedroom and waited the end of the turmoil. For almost an hour, the chestnut just lost it. He hit the wall enough to bleed. At the end, he was worn-out and revolted. When did I become so violent ?! Why things can't be normal ? Since 12th grade, his world was falling apart. And he hated this.

"I'm going for a jog !" he shouted at Nick. "Don't wait me."

And he ran outside as fast as possible.

He headed towards the park, and ran, ran and ran. Liam didn't stop before he was totally incapable of carrying on. He just let himself fall in the grass. This is so unfair. She devoted her life to us. And now she could lose everything, depending on my testimony. The young boy rested there for hours. He skipped the first lecture, but didn't care at all. His cellphone rang several times. Nick and Rebecca both called him, but he didn't care either. All he wanted was some peace.

Eventually, when the sun went down, he left the parc. He was heading home when he ran into Colton. His friend was doing a jogging, but stopped when he saw him.

"Hi dude." he greeted softly. "Glad to see you're... physically fine. Nick thought you would maybe hurt yourself."

Liam looked right through him. He just continued his path, feeling a bit feeble.

"Liam, are you okay ? You look sick."

The lad didn't answered. He just closed his eyes. His body was shaking. And everything went black.

He woke up at the hospital. The doctor told him he had made an anxiety attack and some had been suffering from hypoglycemia. He gave him some medication, and left the room. Nick was there, playing at his gameboy. When they ended up alone, he mumbled :

"Don't worry, I told your parents to not come. Your father wanted to, but I persuaded him it wasn't a good idea."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Look, you need to rest. Don't do anything okay ?"

Liam nodded slowly. He wanted to sleep, but first, he really needed something.

"Give me my phone please." he asked. "I want to hear Nate just a bit."

"Of course."

His bestfriend answered immediately. Liam heard a lot of noises, and understood Nate was partying.

"Hey buddy. What's the deal ? You never call me after 10pm."

"I... I just got some troubles and I'm at the hospital but nothing bad, really."

His bestfriend remained silent for a bit. He got away from the party.

"Tell me."

"It's some stuff with my father. We can speak about that later. And Nick is taking care of me, don't worry. But can you do something for me please ?"

Liam looked out of the corner of his eyes Nick. His roommate had put his headphones and wasn't listenning.

"Whatever you want." promised Nate. "Just say it, and I'll do it."

"Can you tell me I'm not completely worthless ?"

Again, his bestfriend kept quiet for a moment. Liam wanted so deseperatly to see him. Nate's parents were his mother's old friends, and both boys knew eachother since forever. They didn't grow up in the same town and didn't attend to the same school, but they were very close anyway. Right now, Liam needed his soulmate. But it was impossible. He had to wait the christmas holidays. But I don't even know if I'll be with my mother or with my demonic father.

"Bro'. At least to me, you're someone very important." claimed Nate. "And I'm sure it's the same for your family. I know you blame yourself for a lot of things, but you're just wrong. You're not worthless. Liam you hear me ? You're not worthless. Christmas is coming, and I promise we'll spend it together. Okay ?"

"Yeah. Thank you... I think I'll rest a bit now. Good night Nate."

Liam hung up and laid down. He fell asleep like this, miserable and extremely sad.

Rebecca Wednesday December 19

It was the last day before the holidays. Then, they would have until early january to review for the end-of-term examination. But Rebecca had a lot of thing to think through before. Yesterday, Liam ended up at the hospital after a serious break-down. She was worried for him and for Nick. I hope none of them got hurt... She hadn't receive any news yet. Honestly, she felt very bad. She had pretended to be their friend, but didn't see that coming. Now Liam was maybe suffering from depression and Nick was alone to help him. And it wasn't her only problem. Emilio continued to act as his boyfriend. Everyday, he kissed her, cuddled her like if he really loved her. She had done some research about this hunter stuff on the internet. She had found scary things. So there was people in the university who where chasing other people ? And generally for sex ?! Home hunter like Emilio were scary. Those kind of person needed both a steady girlfriend and freedom to see whoever they wanted to. Generally, they were overly possessive towards their official girlfriend. And even more with time. In other word, he'll never let me go. And when I thought things couldn't be worst... Bob had called her parents and had convinced them she was letting herself go. According to him, she wasn't focused. Which is true, but not for the reason he listed... Anyway, when she would be going back home, some shit would happen, she knew it for sure.

For lunchtime, the black girl joined Matthew. According to his text, he had some goods news, and she really needed this.

"Hey Rebbie." he smiled when she sat. "So, I found a way to free you from Emilio."

"I'm listening."

"So Emilio wants a girlfriend and many lovers at the same time. For now, you're his girlfriend, which mean he consider you his precious little property."

Is it supposed to make me feel better ? Because it doesn't. Fuck this sick man and his needs.

"I think we can manage to make him see otherwise. I mean, if you ain't a faithful girlfriend, he will let you be right ?"

"And how the hell are we going to do that ?"

"The easy way. You have to sleep with someone else, and we will bring the truth to him."

Rebecca stared at Matthew for a moment, dazed by his idea. I'm not a slut.

"You think I'll have sex just like that ? And isn't it a bit dangerous ? Emilio will lost it and kill me right after."

The sophomore rolled his eyes.

"C'mon girl, I'm not asking you to date someone. It's just one sex session. I know plenty of man who are eager to help you with this. And don't worry, it's not like if he'll hurt you for real. Especially if we're here to protect you."

"But if you are, why can't I just ditch him ?"

"He'll never accept it and you know that. Look, think during the holidays. In january, you tell me. Trust me he'll still be there for you, until he thinks you're not worthy enough to be his girlfriend."

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey Wednesday December 19

The hospital. The fucking hospital. How the hell this baboon managed to wind up in the hospital ? I fucking hate this one in particular. Too many stupid people. The Dean's grandson went along the hallway pissed. According to this Nicolas, Liam was going out today, but needed to go back to his family home, in the middle of nowhere. Which means it's my last chance to make a fucking move before the holidays. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey wasn't stupid. He already understood sex would come later. Maybe in one month. And in the meantime, he just had to screw some chicks and chaps. And masturbate a lot. Anyway, he entered in his prey's room hastily when he glanced the nurse he had banged last year come nearer.

"Dami ? What are you doing here ?"

Bloody hell, my name isn't Dami. You're an absolute braindead numbskull.

"You fine ?" he asked more diplomatically.

"Yes, I'm allowed to leave. It was just the tiredness."

"Good, come with me."

There was an avantage to speak with such an idiotic person : Liam was obeying docilely. As long as it's not an absurd request... This dude is smart in a way. A stupid smart guy. That's so weird.

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey led his prey at the nearest restaurant. He expected this to be a sort of date. But with Liam, everything could go wrong at anytime. And it was so exciting. The lad ordered a salad, the freshman some rice.

"So Liam. Are you fully recovered ?"

Honestly, he didn't care at all about his prey's health. He once had had sex with a sick boy in highschool, who puke his diner right after. Gross, but he pronounced Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey's name so well.

"Yeah." replied the chestnut dude. "I got some bad news for my family and I don't really know what happened next but... I'm fine now."

Bad news ? Like Barbara said, this man has troubles. The story of this tiny pussy was kinda interesting to understand Liam's behavior. Because he had done something bad, and because he felt terrible about it, he tried to ran away from reality. And that's why he's so lunatic. But it just make the hunt better. Liam had already finished his plate. This greedy boy was eating fast.

"You should take a second helping." offered the junior. "I'm paying for everything, don't worry."

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey expected their unofficial date to last a bit longer. However, he noticed something in Liam's eyes. Something interesting.

"I'm not really hungry." said this one. "But thank you Dami, you're really nice."

Did you just lie ? Oh man, it's the first time you're lying on purpose to me. What the hell was the problem ? Let's see if I can push it a bit.

"It wasn't a proposition." he said with authority. "Take a second helping. See, I'm doing the same."

Liam didn't resist that much. He lowered his eyes, and they both ordered.

Things became fascinating. The freshman ate his plate of pasta really fast. Each time he took a mouthful, his eyes were twinkling with greed. He liked it so much. And this is what I needed. A weak spot. When the plate went empty, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey smiled.

"I have some trouble to finish mine." he whispered. "Do you want to finish it ?"

It was a enormous steak with fries. Honestly, it might be enough to feed the Dean's grandson for a day. But Liam licked his lips. He wants this badly. Oh that's good.

"C'mon, we don't want to waste, do we ?"

"No we don't." approved his prey. "I'll help you as I can."

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey must've been hallucinating. Liam took the plate, and ate it entirely in no time. He just devoured it. The hell, how's it even possible ? The most impressive ? He didn't seem stuffed at all. His stomach had barely rounded up. Now I'm curious. It was so ironic. Theo had this guy, and failed to catch him ? The best chubby chaser of the campus didn't saw he had a gem right under his nose ? Now I'm getting hard. He had a thrill.

"Maybe we should go for dessert." he said.

Liam smiled. A genuine, naive smile. Don't. I want to put my dick in your mouth when you're like this.

"Sure, we should." he agreed. "But afterwards, I really need to go. Nick is waiting for me."

The Dean's grandson ordered for them both a piece of chocolate cake. And then he gave his to Liam. This one consumed both so easily. When he finished, he let out a soft, slight belch.

"Excuse me." he said. "It was wonderful. You really are nice with me Dami."

Exceptionally, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey felt relieved when Liam didn't say his name. I would have cum otherwise. He's hotter than I thought. This man. Damnit, I need to jerk off. They left once he paid the bill. And the Dean's grandson rushed his ferrari. Inside, he started a dvd up with his name on a loop. And he masturbated.

To be continued

Well things went bad for our poor Liam ! His family’s problems are a real pain. But he can count on Dami to feed him and cheer him up !

As for Rebecca, will she accept such a weird plan ? We’ll see that soon !

Next weekend is coming my other story ! I assure you, it’s kinky !

#the college society #cs #Liam #Rebecca #Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey #stuffing #a good meal #a bad father #chapter 2 #part 5

[hectorino1]

Day 1: To Hell and Back - The first day of a pelegrino (aka Me)

Now that I have your attention. In reality it wasn't all that hellish. Just a small part of which I am heavily to blame ...but I'll explain ...

PRE CAMINO

It's 4 am, I'm wide awake, and I'm writing in my blog. I've been up since 3 am. A line from a "Heart" song comes to mind which goes 'I hear the ticking of the clock, I'm lying here, the rooms pitch dark'.  I could use a couple more hours of sleep considering that yesterday I spent over 24 hours traveling. And yet, I feel rested. Something tells me I won't be getting any shut eye. I can hear another pelegrino across the hall coughing away. I suspect she isn't getting much sleep either....

Update: At the last minute I may have gotten another hour before my alarm went off at 6 am.

I get up, shower, and pack. At 7:30 am I walk out the door ready to start my first hike...Day 1!

FINALLY...THE HIKE

When I walked out the door, I noticed immediately that it was drizzling lightly. I actually didn't mind as it was relatively warm. It never occurred to me how the drizzle must feel 4000 feet up the mountain.

Shortly after starting on the Camino, I made my way to a fork on the road which offered two choices. Almost how the song goes, I can take the high road or I can take the low road (In my case it's a trail). If I choose the low trail it would take me around a mountain through the flatter, safer route. On the other hand, if I choose the high trail this would take me 4,000 feet up the mountain, with little protection from the elements, over the top of the pyrenees. This trail was the one where Emilio Estevez was caught in a storm and died in the movie "The Way." Did I forget to mention that just yesterday I was told that a bunch of people had to be rescued that day on this trail due to the weather? It was pretty clear which trail I'd be taking.... and so I began making my way up the mountain.

Even with the light drizzle, the view of the valley was spectacular. The rain clouds were so high up they didn't impede views of the valley. The hills and the mountains where lush with tall green grass. Every now and then, I could see gray sheep and white cows grazing. The farm houses, speckled here and there on the hillsides looked so welcoming, some with smoke rising from their chimneys. I was truly enjoying it.  

After a couple hours of hiking in the light drizzle, I reached the last hostel (the last opportunity for rest and shelter for the next ten miles) on the route at Orrison. I didn't think anything of all the drizzle I'd walked through until I walked into thehostel, took off my backpack and my rain coat. As soon as I did that, a chill ran through my body as if somebody had pored ice water on me. My shirt was drenched in water. It appears my water resistant jacket is just that... water-resistant and not "waterproof." This jacket has served me very well on many hikes with some rain and snow (I mean who wants to walk in rain anyways), but I never noticed its Achilles heel (i.e. works great in all conditions but continuous rain).

At the hostel, I immediately took of my shirt and replaced it with a dry fit long sleeve shirt I brought. Still feeling a bit cold, I decided on having a bowl of hot vegetable soup at the hostel before heading out. As I was enjoying my first few sips, Sam came right up and sat next to me.

MY FIRST MEANINGFUL ENCOUNTER WITH A PILGRIM ON THE CAMINO 

Sam is a young man, guessing mid to late twenties, from Liverpool England who is starting his second Camino. To save money he bought a plane ticket to Paris for about 14 dollars and hitch-hiked the rest of the way. Although he was a machine-gun talker, he happened to be very nice and pleasant to be around. He told me a bit of himself and I about myself, and just like his fast talking, he stood up, shook my hand and bolted out the door. Buen Camino Sam!

...CONTINUING 

I finished my soup and rearranged my pack to make sure I knew where my remaining rain gear was. I also pulled out this one-use rain poncho out and put it on. I didn't want to get drenched again. I noticed immediately that the poncho was short sleeve and wouldn't protect my arms. I would just have to deal with it. I had packed rain pants but since my current hiking pants looked ok decided to stick with them (BIG MISTAKE).

I left the hostel and headed up the trail. The drizzle had ever so slightly lessened. I felt fairly cozy and continued my way upward. It wasn't long before I noticed that, although I was still walking ever higher, I was no longer hiking on the lower side of the mountain but rather on the top side. This didn't mean much, that is, until I reached Km 11. 

KM 11

Almost from nowhere, the wind gusts kicked-in with hurricane fury and began tossing us hikers around the trail like drunken sailors trying to make it back home. The winds where relentless! At this point, the heavy drizzle also began pelting us sideways, stinging any exposed skin, hands, face. My pants, which had fared so well in the light drizzle were now sucking-in the rain from the side drizzle like a sponge, to the point where my pants began sticking to my legs. 

This beating was relentless, sucking the heat from me, from any unshielded parts, and in particular from my arms and now my legs. I kept on. I knew exactly where my rain pants were located in the pack and could pull them out relatively quickly, but being exposed at the top of the mountain with no shield from the winds and rain, and no shelter, the thought of dropping my pants... well I wasn't that in despair... just yet.

This beating went on for kilometer after kilometer and progress was slow. The rain and wind was gradually sucking the heat out of me. My core was well protected but was having a tough time keeping up. By the time I got to Km 11 1/32, I felt that unless I change there was no way I could go on like this for another 5K. That's when I looked up and saw what appeared to be a white shiny object in the distance just a half-klick away. As I got closer I recognized it as a big van. I saw some hikers gathered around one side... When I joined them I realized that it was a local selling goods put off his truck. Goods like boiled chips, sandwiches and hot chocolate. HOT CHOCOLATE!....Did I just say HOT CHOCOLATE!!! 

I pulled out my money looked him in the eyes and said 'goop gack ge Choco Bink' (Apparently I was closer to hypothermia than I realized). Without any hesitation he turned towards the interior of the van, whadiddled for a sec, turned back around, and handed me a cup of hot chocolate. Apparently he's been through this before. You could say the chocolate was a life saver.

Since I now was protected from the elements on the side of the van, I decided to strip down and switch to my rain pants. I also put on a thicker hat. Within minutes I was feeling much better.

THE IRONY OF CHANGING MY CLOTHES

I thanked the vendor and moved on. Not 100 feet from the van, I reached the single track hiking part which was made famous by the movie The Way as this was the part where Emilio Estevez got lost in a storm and died. I found it a bit ironic because today it is so marked-up with markers every 50 feet that a blind man couldn't get lost. Then, on top of that, one literally walks, oh 200 yards on this single track before the single track switches to a dirt road you could drive a truck on (which they probably due for rescues).

As soon I reached the dirt road, which is now Spain, the wind died completely. All that brutal part was done. I felt like singing down the mountain.  

I reached the hostal at Roncesvalles tired but warm again. I survived.  

[nadiaamartinez-blog1]

Character Information

Full Name. Nadia Emiliana Martinez

Age & Birthday. 26. July 27th.

Gender Identity. CisFemale

Preferred Pronouns. She/Her

Romantic Orientation. Pansexual

Sexual Orientation. Panromantic

Hometown. Lemon Grove

Neighborhood. The Junction

Family Information *

Mother. Consuelo Alvarez-Garcia (birth mother)/Stefanie Martinez (adoptive mother

Father. Emilio Alvarez (birth father)/David Martinez (Adoptive father)

Siblings. TBA Martinez sibling #1, TBA Martinez sibling #2.

Pets. A pup named Coco.

Other Family Members of Importance. None at the moment!

Please describe your character’s family dynamics. Nadia is very close with her family. She loves her parents and her siblings beyond anything else, and would do anything for them.

Personality Information

Positive Traits. alluring, passionate, determined, charismatic, confident

Negative Traits. flirtatious, jealous, obsessive, arrogant, reckless

Star Sign. Leo

Likes. pink wine, red lipstick, handbags, shoes, crystals, taking long baths, full moons, catching the perfect candid, body positivity, classic rock

Dislikes. insecurity, bigotry, hatred, prejudice, racism, “conventional” beauty, relish, pork, most vegetables

Pet Peeves. internet trolls, flat tummy teas, fake people

Most Embarrassing Memory. Nadia had a big bed-wetting phase, and one time she wet the bed during naptime in kindergarten.

Hobbies. Drawing, painting, photography, boxing, concerts/musical festivals

Guilty Pleasure. Peanut butter dipped Oreos, chocolate lava cake, wine, bath bombs, candles, crystals

Unusual Talents. Nadia can say any word backwards.

Habits. Taking selfies, posing even when there’s no camera, carrying 39 lipsticks in her enormous purse at any given time.

Occupation/Schooling Information

If your character is currently employed:

Occupation. Model/Makeup Artist

Place of Work. Self-Employed

Character Development

Plans for Development. 

CAREER MOVES: Right now, Nadia is in the “funemployed” sector of life. She is self employed through her YouTube channel, blog, and Instagram pictures, and she works as a model, but I’d like to see her make bigger steps with makeup, whether she becomes a salesgirl at a department store, starts creating her own product, or launches her own brand.

LOVE IS HERE TO STAY: I hate posting this as a plot development because I’m never someone who relies on shipping to keep me going in a group, but I think it would be nice for Nadia to find someone she really hits it off with and who will treat her right, since her last and only major relationship ended up in major flames.

SEXUALITY: Nadia is pansexual but I’d like her to lean towards women. The only relationship she’s ever been in was with a man, so I’d like her to explore her sexuality and reclaim her confidence in that regard.

SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL GIRL GANG: Nadia is a fierce, strong independent woman, and I’d like for her to surround herself with other fierce, strong, independent women who will lift each other up and support each other.

Other. 

SKYLAR BAUTISTA: Nadia’s abusive ex-boyfriend, who is currently in prison. They met and formed their relationship when they both were in art school. Skylar dabbled in painting but his forte was sculpture. As two incredibly talented artists, they were often put in competition with each other which started out as a sexy tension thing for them before Skylar showed his true colors. They lived together for two years before Nadia’s parents pulled her out of his abusive cycle, and now he’s in jail where he belongs. Boy bye.

Character Biography

ABUSE TW

Nadia Emiliana Martinez couldn’t tell you much about her birth parents, or about her life before the accident. The road was icy and visibility was poor, so when Emilio Alvarez spun off the road, he and his wife were without a seatbelt. Only Nadia, strapped into the backseat, was left with minimal scratches, but a scar that resides on her scalp from blunt-force trauma to the head. While it was unclear if she was going to make it, she did, and with no other family to claim her, she was put into the foster system. There were two times when she was almost adopted, but things ended up not working out. Nadia felt like she was a used car or a puppy that nobody wanted, and the older she got, the more clear it was to her that she would be without a family until she was eighteen years old, and would be truly alone in the world. 

All throughout her life, she’d been attracted to drawing, painting, and photography. Anything she could get her hands on immediately became something to create. Nadia had nothing and made a habit out of stealing supplies from the art room until one day she was caught by the art teacher who gave her an entire box set of colored pencils, paper, and paints. Nadia broke down into tears that day, and she treasured every single one of those supplies until she used them all up. The only solace she found was in painting, taking the beautiful images she saw in her brain and putting them on paper.

Nadia stayed in the foster system until she was an extremely opinionated fifteen-year-old girl, where she was taken in by David and Stefanie Martinez. Nadia didn’t know what to make of her new family, especially since she was waiting for the day that she was brought back to foster care. Nadia’s birthday came up almost two weeks after she was adopted, and she burst into tears yet again when she opened up a beautiful vintage camera in perfect working order. Then, Nadia knew she’d found her forever home and her forever family. This was the only reason why she didn’t want to leave Lemon Grove when it came time for Nadia to apply for college. She had just found her people, and going far away from them didn’t stack up in the cards, so Nadia went to the Miami Fine Arts Academy less than an hour away. 

It was in college that she met Skylar, someone who was going to become a huge part of her life in a very short way. Even though Nadia was far from an impressionable eighteen-year-old, Skylar played her hook, line, and sinker. Nadia didn’t realize the true chaos that lay within him until her confidence was shattered. He was also an artist, and they were frequently in competition with each other. At first, it was a healthy competition, something that got their engines revving, but Nadia quickly became to blame whenever she had her paintings win a contest. As they got older, it got worse. If Nadia and Skylar’s paintings were both in a gallery and Nadia’s sold first, she was expected to give him the money. Sex, which Nadia had first enjoyed, became a chore and something to dread, and Nadia quickly realized she didn’t like having it with him anymore. The man she thought she loved was gone, and everything between them had become toxic.

Nadia’s parents were worried as their vivacious girl retreated more and more into her shell. She was too scared to talk to anyone about her treatment. Things came to a breaking point when Skylar hit her. That was when the pattern started-- he’d hit her, apologize, take her to a fancy dinner and buy her beautiful clothes, and then he’d hit her again. He forced her to wear a full face of makeup all the time, to the point where Nadia would wake up two hours early to cover up the bruises all over her face and body. She got great at doing makeup.

Eventually, things came to a breaking point, and after a surprise visit from her parents, they immediately took her home. Skylar soon followed, and things got heated in an argument between David and Skylar. Eventually, the police were called, Skylar was arrested for domestic abuse, and sent to prison. Free from her cage, Nadia is slowly getting back into what she loves most: painting, art, and photography. She works as a model in Miami but also has a popular YouTube channel where she posts unboxing videos, makeup tutorials, BTS of her photoshoots, and frequently participates in the “4 Photographers Shoot The Same Model” series. She’s happy, she’s home, and she’s thriving, which is the most important thing she can be.

#cchq:apply

[jordan202]

My Boys Drabbles - Thomas (Part Four - Final)

took me a while but here it is! @jia911 thanks for proofreading it!

Previous chapters can be found HERE. 

My Boys Drabbles – Thomas (Part Four)

“Has Lucas ever been this small?” Amelia asked with a contagious smile as she exposed an adorable white jumpsuit with cute little bears on it. “I honestly don’t remember.” She added, taking a look at their ten month old who crawled back and forth next to them making a mess.

They were sitting on the floor of Lucas’ bedroom, trying to sort through the drawers of baby clothes to figure out what could be of use for their new son. A few weeks before, Amelia had found out they were having another boy and she was very excited with the idea, considering the new one and Lucas would grow up close together.

“He’s still very tiny,” Owen replied, grabbing his son as the baby crawled past him and showering his head with kisses. Lucas struggled to break free at first, but when Owen blew ticklish kisses on his belly, the ten month old started to giggle.

“Owen, he is nearly as big as Harriet, and she is a year and a half older than him.” Amelia pointed out.

“I give it two years and he will be wearing your size of clothes, then.” Owen replied with an amused smile, making fun of Amelia’s petite measurements.

He laughed when she playfully threw a batch of onesies at him and realized how happy she seemed. Now that his wife was fully recovered from her surgery, Owen loved being able to enjoy the second pregnancy they were going through together.

Even though their first son was only ten months old, it was very clear he was picking up after his dad. Not only because of the color of his hair and his masculine features, but also due to his height and structure. Soon after their marriage, when Amelia had moved in, Owen had been challenged with living with a person who could pretty much camouflage anyplace around the house or fit anywhere. Sometimes, she insisted they went to work in her car, which was a nightmare because the vehicle didn’t allow him any legroom.

It was no secret that Owen liked to go for walks and in the few times Amelia had joined him, she had to ask him to slow down, because in her words she felt like a ‘poodle trying to keep up with a mastiff’. According to her, him being over six feet tall was the weapon he used to hide groceries on the top shelves. But Owen had absolutely no complaints about it. He found it adorable how tiny Amelia was. The way she would wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head on his chest entirely made up for it. And when she curled up next to him in bed, fitting perfectly inside his embrace like a little kid looking for comfort, Owen knew that having a short, petite wife wasn’t at all an issue.

“Did you hear this?” Amelia interrupted his thoughts. “I think Lucas said mama.”

Owen shifted his attention back to their son. For a while now, Lucas had been interacting with them a lot more, making sounds and blabbering syllables, paying attention to what they said and even recognizing names, songs and familiar faces. A couple of days before, Owen could swear he’d heard the boy say “dada” in an attempt to get to him but Amelia had been reluctant to acknowledge it.

“He did not,” Owen smiled mischievously, doing the same thing she’d done to him. “I think you heard what you wanted to hear.”

For the past weeks, the couple had been playfully competing to see who’d be honored by their son’s first ever comprehensible word. And now, Amelia seemed too determined to put any doubts aside and claim the winning spot.

“He clearly said it.” She insisted. Amelia knew that Lucas had indeed said something similar to dad not too long before but she wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“He did not.” Owen played along, giving her a pretend censoring look.

Amelia scowled so adorably that it made him laugh. Lucas seemed to pick up on the light atmosphere because the baby smiled and made an attempt at a solo walk, this time crashing into his father’s arms before he could hold balance. Amelia was just about to stimulate the baby to try his first steps in her direction when her phone buzzed.

“It’s Tom,” Amelia whispered to Owen before answering the call.

Across from his wife, Owen heard the senior neurosurgeon asking her through face time about any symptoms she might have experienced the past weeks and how her return to work had been. Amelia noticed the way Owen rolled his eyes once he realize who was on the phone, but she tried her best to hide her amused smile.

“Show me the scar.” Koracick couldn’t hide a smug smile on the corner of his lips and immediately resumed talking. “Oh that’s right, you can’t, because you don’t have one.”

“You’re so full of yourself.” Amelia couldn’t be bothered, well aware of Tom’s arrogance. She had to give it to him though, he had indeed done a wonderful job. Her incision site was nearly invisible, even if she pulled her hair to the side.

“Oh, look, it’s Bighead!” Amelia heard Koracick’s voice and saw his pestering smile when Lucas made an attempt for her phone, blocking the camera. “It looks like he is finally growing some teeth.”

“He has two now.” Amelia laughed at her former boss’s provocation, proudly flashing her baby’s smile to the phone.

“Yeah, those two white bulges make him look even creepier,” Tom replied with a smirk, unaware that everything he was saying could be heard by Owen. “And how is Little Thomas doing?”

“It’s a boy.” Amelia smiled, knowing that now more than ever Koracick would pester her about the name.

“You see, it’s fate.” Her mentor smiled arrogantly. “He is destined to be the new me. Thomas Koracick the second, write that down. You’re going to hear that name quite often in the future.”

Amelia rolled her eyes and was about to reply when Lucas successfully reached out his hand and grabbed her phone before she could stop him.

“Dada.”

“Oh, I knew it.” Amelia’s heard the muffled sound of Tom’s voice when Lucas took the stolen cell phone to his mouth. She had just gotten it back and cleaned the spit from it when the guy added. “Bighead is so jealous of Little Thomas that he is already calling me dad.”

“He was actually talking to Owen.”

Amelia’s dissatisfaction to admit Lucas’s first comprehensible word really had been “dad” was entirely made up by the look of alarm on Koracick’s face when he realized Owen had been listening to him the entire time.

“This is the moment I hang up.” Tom pulled himself back together and gave Owen a scowl of indifference, adding with sarcasm. “Take good care of my heir.”

Before Owen could even say something, Tom hung up. The trauma surgeon took a deep breath, trying to refrain from pointing out how obnoxious and unbelievably arrogant Amelia’s former mentor was.

“You can just say it.” Amelia read his thoughts and struggled to contain a smile.

Owen closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hating to admit it.

“The guy is unbelievable.” He nodded his head in disapproval. He didn’t have enough words to describe what exactly he thought of Tom Koracick. “But…” Owen let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes. “We do look alike.” He accepted, much to his own dismay. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, let’s get to what’s really important here,” his face transformed as a satisfied smile crept on his lips. “I guess we now have confirmation that this little man,” Owen leaned forward and easily captured Lucas with one of his arms, giving the boy a series of kisses on the cheek, “really has just said his first word.”

“I hate you.” Amelia grinned, unable to hide she hated to lose. But at the same time, she was the happiest she had ever been.

“No, you don’t.” Owen looked up to meet her eyes and returned her smile.

“I really don’t.” She laughed when he used his other arm to capture her too, keeping both her and their son trapped inside his embrace.

“What am I going to do with you three, huh? One is absolutely stubborn and unpredictable,” Owen looked at his wife and then diverted his gaze to Lucas. Their baby was just as willful and determined as his mother and just like Amelia, it felt like his energy never expired. “The other is already a little savage in the making.” He tried to keep his face serious. Lucas was always playing and exploring, demanding a lot of attention from his parents. It was hard to keep up and he knew the baby had taken after Amelia. “I just honestly hope your brother has a better disposition because I can’t with a third brat to watch out for.”

Amelia cracked up, shrugging her shoulders to defend herself from the ticklish kisses on her neck. She wrapped one arm around Owen’s torso, leaning against him on the floor of their children’s bedroom.

“Have you thought about any baby names yet?” She looked up to meet his eyes, unable to stop smiling.

“No, have you?” Owen gently caressed her hair, watching as Lucas seemed too caught up trying to chew a rubber toy.

“Emilio Shepherd.” Amelia replied with a giggle, making Owen crack up too. “How about that?”

“That is what I was going with too.” Owen replied with good humor. “Of course he will never get bullied for that.”

“Of course not.” Amelia played along, too entertained.

They spent the next minutes coming up with new suggestions, one worse than the other.

“Luke, what do you think we should name your brother?” Amelia held her baby and kissed his belly, being rewarded with a smile. “What is your choice?”

Lucas tried to be a part of the conversation, answering with a bunch of random syllables to his parents’ delight.

“So I am really torn now.” Amelia couldn’t contain her laughter. “Emilio Shepherd or La-la-la.”

“Do you want to name him Thomas?” Owen asked a little more seriously, making eye contact with his wife.

Amelia’s goofy manners vanished and she straightened up her body, sitting in front of him on the floor.

“No, of course not.” She frowned with a little more emphasis than necessary. “You hate Tom.” She pointed out.

Owen tried to refrain from agreeing with that sentence, so he just leaned forward and grabbed her thighs with his hands.

“It’s okay if you do.” He assured her, looking his wife in the eyes.

“But…” Amelia was genuinely confused. “You said so yourself. Tom is an egocentric jerk.” She used the words Owen had said on purpose.

“He did save your life, though.” Owen pointed out. He might not be the guy’s biggest fan, but he had to admit that. And most importantly, at this point, the trauma surgeon had already figured out what mattered the most. “And it doesn’t matter how much he likes to pretend that he is indifferent, it’s obvious he is worried about you.” Owen admitted, shrugging his shoulders with conformation. “It doesn’t change the fact that he is an idiot, but I really think deep down he is a good guy. I think he genuinely cares about you.” The trauma surgeon rolled his eyes, hating that he was able to be this rational. “And Thomas is a nice name.”

“It is.” Amelia bit her lower lip, touched by her husband’s accurate perception and selfless gesture. Owen never failed to amaze her.

“So, Little Thomas, huh?” Owen reluctantly smiled, well aware that by the time Koracick found out about it, they would be in for another round of insufferable teasing.

“Thomas Hunt, though.” Amelia looked lovingly at her husband. “Not Koracick or anything else.” She made sure to point out. “Little Thomas Hunt.” Amelia repeated, watching the way Owen’s eyes revealed how pleased he was to hear those words. He placed a lot of value in family and she knew her loyalty meant the world to her husband.

“I think if our son is half as smart as you are, then he will be just as smart as Koracick.” Owen gave her a wicked smile, absolutely satisfied to get back at the guy. “So I think Thomas fits.”

Amelia felt touched by his adorable compliment and reached out to give Owen a kiss on the lips.

“I love you.”

“I thought you just said you hated me?” He raised one eyebrow at her, smiling right after.

“Very smart.” She tilted her head, flirting with him before Owen’s hands went from her thighs to her face, pulling her in for another kiss.

.

Just like he’d done when his wife had been pregnant with Lucas, Owen made sure to assemble the new furniture for the nursery. Every day, Amelia asked herself how they were going to manage two young babies. Lucas seemed to sense that a big change was about to happen because he demanded a lot of attention every time his mother was with him.

After a particularly busy Sunday working on house renovations, Owen was exhausted. He took his time in the shower, enjoying the peaceful moment after a noisy day.

The trauma surgeon had just finished drying his hair with a towel and put on comfortable pants when his eyes caught a glimpse of his wife standing in their bedroom corner. Amelia had a heavy frown on her forehead as she worked her way around buttoning an old pair of pants, looking at it with a mix of disbelief and caution.

“Everything okay there?” Owen asked from a distance, amused with her struggle.

“Yeah,” Amelia was startled by his question before looking over her shoulder to reply. “It’s just…” She sighed, giving up completely. “Damn it, a bunch of my clothes don’t fit me anymore.”

Owen chuckled and walked to her, finding it funny how bothered by it she seemed to be.

“You’re twenty weeks along, babe.” He reminded her, giving his wife a gentle kiss on the temple as she stood in front of a mirror, looking back at their reflection. “It was bound to happen.” Owen smiled with his eyes before descending his gaze from her face to her now prominent bump. “And by the way, you look beautiful.” He added, brushing his lips on her cheek one more time before walking away.

Amelia lifted the tank top she was wearing and looked at her oversized abdomen. She turned to her side and bit her bottom lip with amusement, watching the transformation of her body. Her previously slim waist was now rounder and for some reason, it felt like her hips were larger too. Amelia had never been insecure about her looks or her body, she’d always known she was above average attractive. But she was confident enough to admit out loud that she didn’t think she looked her very best at the moment.

“Look at me,” She playfully asked for Owen’s attention. “I read somewhere this week that by now, the baby should be the size of a banana,” her eyes sparkled with playfulness before she added, “but for some reason it feels more like I have a watermelon inside of me.”

Owen was contaminated by her lightheartedness and easy smile. Amelia was able to laugh at herself without being demeaning. He loved that about her. In fact, he loved everything about her. From the black panties and fitted tank top she was wearing, to the adorable dimples dancing on her cheeks as she smiled widely at him.

“I think you look hot,” He winked discreetly at her, pulling the covers from the bed to lie down.

“You seriously don’t.” Amelia doubted him, smiling from ear to ear as she turned back to the mirror, amused by her own disproportional figure. “If Luke could speak properly, he’d ask me why I swallowed his new brother.”

“Amelia, don’t make me say it again. You look amazing.” Owen insisted, the smile on his lips going from sweet to seductive. “Come here.”

Amelia took one second longer looking into his eyes and with a chuckle, switched off the light before walking in his direction.

“What are you doing?” Owen asked before she reached the bed. “Turn the lights back on.”

“There’s no need to.” Amelia replied, stubbornly resuming her way.

“But I want to.” Owen firmly stated, stretching out his hand to turn on the lamp on his bedside table. When he saw the question in her eyes, the trauma surgeon explained. “I want to look at you.”

“Stop it, you’re just being silly,” Amelia felt her cheeks blushing but didn’t have time to process it because Owen captured her arms and pulled her to his lap. “You’re trying to make me feel good because while I get to do all the heavy work,” she touched her belly suggestively. “You got only the fun part.”

“True.” Owen whispered close to her ear, drawing a trail of kisses on the column of her neck right after. “I only participated in the fun part. But I am not trying to make you feel better, I seriously mean it.” He added, looking straight into her eyes so she could see he was being honest. He had never wanted her more than he did at that moment “You are a freaking turn on.”

“Owen,” Amelia wrapped her arms around his neck and dug the tips of her fingers jn the back of his head, lazily caressing his hair. “How can you seriously think I look hotter now than I did before I was pregnant?”

“Because now you have a part of me inside of you.” Owen answered like it was very obvious. “Something that we made together.” He added, more rationally than emotionally. “Do you have any idea how amazing that is? Nothing can beat that.”

Amelia didn’t realize she’d held her breath, totally caught off guard by his sweet confession. The fact that Owen had said it so naturally overwhelmed her. Before she could process it, Amelia leaned over him and kissed his lips, wrapping both her legs and arms around the only man who’s ever made her feel so absolutely complete. She was so happy that for the night, she forgot all about her recent surgery, the still opened discussion about how they were going to deliver the new baby and how her body would still transform a lot more, focusing instead on the one responsible for bringing an insane amount of happiness to her days.

.

Summer was almost over when, on a sunny weekend, Amelia opened her door to find Addison Montgomery standing on her doorway with a big smile on her face.

Addison had never failed to be there for her when Amelia needed her the most and this time it was no different. Even though she and Owen had several times talked about the upcoming birth, never had they reached a conclusion. Amelia knew that no matter which choice they made, what mattered the most was having Addison there because she was the only one Amelia trusted for the task. And to her delighted surprised, she’d heard Owen confess he felt the same way.

“I can’t believe you are this big!” Addison said, playfully kissing Lucas. After the boy’s birth, she’d come to Seattle for his baptism, and just recently for his first birthday party and to check on Amelia. But she was always in touch and Amelia loved to see her devotion as godmother.

“I can’t believe Henry is this big!” Amelia chided, looking at the pictures on Addison’s phone. “I still don’t forgive you for not bringing him.”

“He goes back to preschool on Monday!” Addison justified. She didn’t know how long she would stay for and it wasn’t wise to make Henry unnecessarily fall behind in his classes.

“School never took anyone anywhere.” Amelia said unconvinced, opening the fridge to get a jar of orange juice. She was past thirty-eight weeks along now and even though the scans showed Thomas to be nearly as large as Lucas had been, she took comfort in knowing he seemed to be at least a little smaller.

“That’s great advice for your kids,” Addison replied with sarcasm, unable to hide her smile. “I can’t believe you are a mom of two, what the hell.”

“I know, right?” Amelia smiled mischievously, almost proud of herself. “Who would have guessed? I feel like I am not mature enough to be anyone’s mom.”

“That’s exactly my point.” Addison teased her and when they both laughed together, the surgeon added. “You know I am just kidding, don’t you?” She asked, looking deeply into Amelia’s eyes. “You’ve turned out amazing. You are one hell of a mom and I am damn proud of you.”

Amelia bit her bottom lip, touched by the words her friend had said. Despite not being biologically related to her brother’s ex’s wife, she still considered Addison much more of a sister than her blood sisters had ever been.

“Thank you, Addie.” Amelia replied, feeling unusually shy. Addison’s words meant a great deal to her and there was no point in trying to hide it, because her friend could easily read the  emotions on her face. “Still, though…” Amelia’s voice went back to its signature playfulness. “I am a mom.” She added empathically. “A mom. Of two, on top of that.” The neurosurgeon affectionately rubbed her belly.

“Keep going at this rate and soon enough it will be of three.” Addison raised one eyebrow in a big sister censoring mode.

“God, no!” Amelia refuted immediately. She was already having a hard time with one and soon enough, she would have to juggle two. “Before Owen and I got married I used to think I’d easily go for four or five kids but damn, I had no idea it’s this much work.” Amelia said, while going around the kitchen getting plates and a few snacks for the two of them. “I mean, it’s not just the heavy work… I am used to sleepless nights, but what is really consuming is the worry.” She defined, looking at Addison to see if the other could relate. Once Addison agreed with a head nod, Amelia went on venting. “I worry all the time.” She confessed. “Luke is the first thing in my mind when I wake up and the last one before I go to bed. His well-being is way on top of anything else and Thomas isn’t even born yet and I already feel the same way…” Amelia frowned, lost in thought. “I mean, it won’t ever stop. And it’s overwhelming to think that. Because I can’t control it.” The neurosurgeon gazed at nowhere, deeply immersed in her own thinking. “It’s crazy, it’s… it’s…”

“It’s being a mom.” Addison summarized for her and playfully raised her orange juice glass in a pretend toast. “I couldn’t have defined it better myself.”

“I guess.” Amelia agreed with a large smile, watching as Lucas stepped forward the minute he saw the glass of juice in her hand.

At fourteen months old, Lucas was not only walking, but his parents were already having a hard time keeping him from running. He wanted to explore everything and his vocabulary was impressively increasing by the day. Now, the baby understood a lot of different words and was able to communicate using his facial expressions, pointing to objects and even saying a handful of words he could now pronounce very clearly.

“So…” Addison turned the glass around in her hands, looking at Amelia with a more serious expression. “Have you and Owen reached a conclusion about the birth yet?”

Amelia wasn’t surprised with the question and took a deep breath, trying to think of what to say.

“Not really…” She replied honestly. “He is still insisting I have the C-section, I am still terrified with the idea.” The neurosurgeon added. “Unless you look me in the eyes and tell me that medically speaking, you think it’s going to be dangerous for the baby to have a natural delivery. In that case, I don’t care what I have to go through.” She said with certainty. “But if you think I can pass this baby, if you think the risk for him is smaller or equivalent to the one of a C-section, then I am not going through another surgery.”

Addison studied her friend’s expression, trying her hardest to be as impartial and sensible as possible.

“Amelia, do you remember what happened last time?” Addison asked without any judgment. “I am not asking this in a condescending way, I am asking you, do you really remember what happened?” The obstetrician breathed in and out. “You were unconscious for a big portion of it. That’s why I am asking.”

“I do,” Amelia replied insecurely. “I mean, I remember it was painful and that at some point I lost a lot of blood but…”

“Amelia, you nearly died.” Addison went straight to the point, looking into her eyes very seriously. “You nearly died and I think if you remembered exactly what happened you wouldn’t in your right mind want to submit yourself to that again.”

“Addie, I…”

“That being said,” Addison raised one of her hands in the air, silencing Amelia. “I am going to be honest with you and say that from a medical point of view…” The obstetrician struggled, knowing that despite not being comfortable with it, she owed Amelia nothing but her honest opinion. “Although knowing that having a history of uterine atony increases the chance for a new event in a following birth, it does not contraindicate a new natural delivery.” Addison sighed. “In your cases, we know it was Lucas’ size that probably caused your condition. If Thomas is smaller than him, it’s probably safer to go through with it.”

Amelia noticed how her friend was struggling with the confession and deeply appreciated her effort to be truthful at the same time she showed her concern.

“Thank you.”

Addison nodded assertively and for the rest of the day, the two surgeons caught up on each other’s lives. Just when Amelia thought the matter was decided, she found out that actually communicating Owen about her decision and the talk she’d had with Addison was turning out to be harder than she’d anticipated.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” The neurosurgeon carefully asked, sitting on their bed while her husband kept his silence with his back turned to her.

“There is nothing left to be said.” Owen replied dryly, avoiding looking at her.

“Owen, it’s not like that…” Amelia tried, hoping the conversation wouldn’t turn it into a fight. “I told you, I talked to Addison and she thinks that…”

“You’ve made up your mind and you informed me of your decision.” Owen looked at her over his shoulder. “You’re clearly certain about this and you know I don’t agree with it.” He added with consternation. “So the same way I can’t force you to take the safer route, please don’t expect me to be convinced that your way is better.”

Amelia figured the dimension of just how upset Owen was when he stood up and walked away, struggling to contain his irritation.

Amelia felt her throat constricting and fought really hard not to tear up. Not only were the hormones in her body making her emotionally liable, she was also feeling unsupported and alone for the first time ever since she’d found out she was pregnant. Having Owen by her side meant the world to her and it scared Amelia to death to think that he wasn’t on board with such a huge decision in their lives.

“Owen, please…” Amelia sniffed, still resisting the tears. “You have to try to understand it.” She begged, leaving the bed and going to him. “Please, I…”

“Don’t you get it?” Owen tilted his head and looked at her, livid. For the first time, he fully looked at her and the distress on her face broke his heart. Fighting an internal battle, Owen realized he’d lost it the moment the first tear rolled on her cheek. “I don’t want to lose you...” He roughly held her face in his hands.

“You won’t lose me,” Amelia cut him off.

“…I’ve had to see you nearly die too many times before!” Owen went on, ignoring her interruption. “First that time in the elevator,” He listed, thinking about the day early in their marriage when Amelia had gone into a collapsed building to rescue a patient and nearly got herself killed. “Then when Lucas was born I thought you were both going to die and it was the scariest day of my life… Then we found out you had a brain tumor…!” Owen took a break, overwhelmed with the memories. “How more many times am I going to have to sit around biting my nails, praying to God that someone won’t come to me to tell me that my wife has died?”

Long seconds of heavy silence went by as Amelia processed his point of view. She didn’t have an answer to that, because the one he wanted to hear was also the one that scared her the most.

“I won’t die!” Amelia chided, unable to hold her tears at his display of raw emotion. “You won’t lose me because I won’t die…” She insisted, unreasonably. “Addison is going to be there and if anything goes wrong, she will intervene and…”

“That’s what happened last time.” Owen interrupted her. “And you nearly died, anyway.” He recalled, thinking about the birth. “And Lucas too.” He added. “When he finally came out and I saw that he was blue, the first thought I had was that my baby had been deprived of oxygen for too long and too much damage was already done to be reversed.” Owen truthfully admitted.

He saw the look of horror on Amelia’s face and even though he felt cruel for resorting to that argument, considering Amelia would probably feel irrational guilt, he knew in his heart he needed to because too much was at stake and Owen wasn’t about to risk losing her or their baby.

“You don’t want to have surgery because you’re worried about the drugs and I get it, babe, I honestly get it…” He loosened the grip on her face and gently bent forward, kissing her temple with devotion. “I don’t want to see you in pain, that’s the last thing I want.” Owen added with sincerity. “But I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He wrapped her in her arms and held her so tightly that Amelia didn’t doubt him. “I won’t let anything happen to you under my watch, but Amelia, you gotta let me…” Owen nearly begged. “It’s not just me, you know?” He lifted his head from her neck to look into her eyes. “We have the kids to think about. If anything happens to you or to the baby, where does that leave us?” He raised his eyebrows, trying to make Amelia see it through his eyes. “Where does that leave Lucas? If you bleed out again and we can’t control it this time and I know… I know you think the chance isn’t that big but there is a chance… If it happens, how do I come home and tell Lucas that his mom isn’t coming home anymore?” Owen looked into her eyes, resorting to the most powerful feeling in Amelia’s heart. “If Thomas comes out and you bleed to death again, how do I raise them and tell them what happened?” He saw the way her eyes drowned in tears and secretly hated himself to be causing them, despite knowing it was necessary. “You can’t risk dying, Amelia, even if you think the chances are smaller, because they need you. I need you.” He added emphatically. “But they need you more than anyone else and I know you think you’re making the best decision for you both but you can’t risk not being there for them.”

Amelia was assaulted by a wave of tears and soon enough, heard herself sobbing.

“I am scared…” She confessed, seeking the comfort of his arms.

“You are not going to be on drugs again, Amelia. I promise.” Owen said with confidence. “I won’t let it happen.”

When Amelia had first found out about her brain tumor, she had submitted herself to surgery because she knew there was a big chance both she and her baby could die or be neurologically impaired in case she didn’t remove it and went on with her pregnancy. And while she’d received opioids during anesthesia, afterwards Amelia had bravely avoided them and endured post op almost pain free.

But now, a C-section would implicate not only in another round of pain block, but also a much wider and deeper surgical wound. Amelia would have to cope with it all the while caring for a newborn and an infant. And despite knowing she had a strong support system and a lot of help, the idea of being exposed to drugs in such a vulnerable moment scared the hell out of her, because Amelia knew she couldn’t predict her actions. She was sure she was in a better place than she’d ever been, and that was exactly why she wasn’t willing to risk letting her past compromise her future with a possible relapse.

And yet, at the same time Amelia hoped a natural birth would run smoothly because all medical signs pointed that way, there was the slim chance of things taking an unexpected turn like the previous time. If she was submitted to a C-section, they couldn’t predict all the risks, but it would be much easier to control a hemorrhage in case she had one. Not to mention there wasn’t the chance of Thomas being deprived of oxygen during birth in case she couldn’t pass him.

And when the idea of her son’s wellbeing being compromised came to mind, Amelia knew in her heart she’d just made her decision.

“Okay…” She sobbed loudly, unable to speak more than a whisper.

Owen let out a breath of utter relief and tightened his grip around his wife, thanking the universe for making Amelia take the safer route.

“You will be okay,” he promised, not realizing he was rocking her back and forth. “I promise you, you will all be okay.”

Owen had never failed to take care of her and Amelia knew in her heart he would keep his word. There wasn’t anyone in the world she trusted more than her husband, and no one had ever made her feel as safe as he did. So even though the idea of a new surgery still terrified her, she was aware that rationally, it made more sense for everyone affected.

When they informed Addison of the decision, Amelia could swear she saw relief stamped on her friend’s face. But being Addison, she quickly got practical and looked at the calendar, suggesting they scheduled a C-section for September 20th, in three days. Her plan included monitoring Amelia closely to make sure she didn’t go into labor before that, or else they’d have to rush with the procedure, considering the baby was already at full term.

But late that same evening, Amelia woke up with a backache. Initially, she didn’t give much thought to it and tried adjusting on the bed. Given her height and the size of her belly, lumbar pain wasn’t exactly an alarming symptom and she’d been experiencing it during her third trimester. But when the pain woke her up for the third time that night, Amelia gave up sleeping completely.

At some point, she decided to leave the bed and realized she was sweating, even though it wasn’t seven in the morning. The neurosurgeon abruptly took off her clothes, but the minute she stepped into the shower and felt something moist running down her legs before she had even turned on the water, Amelia figured out what was happening.

“Owen,” She called out, her voice calm and firm. “Owen, wake up. I think my water just broke.”

She had to laugh at how fast her husband went from deeply asleep to functionally up and running. In less then twenty minutes, they were already at the hospital and Addison requested the OR at the same time she stepped in to examine her friend in the obstetrics ward.

“Why are you making that face?” The neurosurgeon asked with alarm, trying to make sense of her friend’s worried glances.

Amelia noticed as Addison quickly stood up and discarded her gloves in the nearest bin.

“You’re already at ten centimeters.” The obstetrician explained.

“But I am not…” Amelia looked from her and then to Owen, who stood in the opposite side of the room, next to her shoulders. “I am not contracting yet.”

“You are.” Addison informed her, asking for help to transport the patient up to the OR.

“No, when I had Lucas it was different, it wasn’t like this…!” Amelia replied and the change of expression on her face was clear. She started to panic and sought help in her husband and friend’s figures. “Why is this happening…? Addie!”

Amelia noticed the way Addison rushed to get her gurney moved upstairs and Owen followed with a look of extreme worry on his face.

“You’re okay,” Addison touched her shoulder and looked her deeply into her eyes. “I’m taking you to the OR.” She looked from Amelia to Owen and then back to her friend. “I just don’t know if we’ll have enough time to block you and get the procedure going before the…”

Addison’s words were interrupted by a large scream of agony when Amelia felt the stinging familiar muscular pain in her back going with full force to her lower abdomen. She cried out a nasty word, making people around her frown in response, and closed her eyes with full force to endure the stabbing pain she knew was about to come.

Everything happened so fast that Amelia was surprised with how well it turned out to be. Considering this was her third labor, it was expected to progress faster but afterwards, she would come to realize that she had been in labor for at least six hours, ever since birth contractions disguised as back pain had started to hit.

And this time around, the birth progressed smoothly, much more so than Amelia and Owen could ever hope for in their most positive dreams.

“There he is…” Addison smiled between tears, wrapping a large pink baby in a dry towel before handing him over to his mother, who looked at her with effusive joy. “Look at him, Amelia, he is gorgeous.”

And the neurosurgeon had to fully agree. Newborns were usually so swollen and immersed in birth fluids that they didn’t look exactly pleasing. But Thomas looked so fragile and at the same time so cute that Amelia felt her heart fluttering with the purest emotions.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She held him for the first time, studying his adorable features. Thomas had large, round eyes and a very prominent dimple on his cheek that became even more evident when he tried to suckle. It was her dimple, Amelia realized. “You are so cute… Mom loves you so much…”

Owen was standing by her side but he was so overwhelmed with his emotions that he couldn’t say a word. Instead, he leaned forward and gave his wife a kiss on the forehead, getting closer to see his newborn son.

“I love you,” The trauma surgeon whispered in his wife’s ears, delicately touching the five toes on his baby’s foot. “I love you both so much.”

Amelia turned her head up to see him and smiled with contentment.

“Where is Lucas? He needs to meet his brother.”

“He is outside with Maggie.” Owen explained, unable to take his eyes off his new son. “Oddly enough, she is one of the few ones who isn’t out on maternity leave.”

Amelia laughed, knowing very well what he was talking about. Arizona Robbins had just gone back to work after a maternity leave period with her son, who had been born a few months before. April and Jackson had also given birth to a boy, not three weeks before. And Jo Wilson and Alex Karev were expected to welcome a daughter in the following month.

“Maggie has to meet Tommy too.” Amelia stated with a full smile. “She has to meet her godson. I want to see them… When can I see them?”

No more than thirty minutes afterwards, Amelia was already enjoying the company of her husband and friends in the private room inside the maternity wing. She couldn’t believe how well things had worked out. Not only jad she accidentally avoided a C-section but the natural birth had progressed better than she and Owen had predicted.

Now, they had not one, but two amazing and healthy baby boys who were able to exponentially multiply how much love they shared in their household.

 “Luke, be gentle!” Amelia asked, watching as her oldest son moved on her bed while she dressed his baby brother.

“Baby.” Lucas said with a wide grin, pointing to his brother but looking at his mom for approval.

“Yes,” the neurosurgeon looked back at him, trying to divide her attention between the two boys. “He is my baby and so are you.”

“Momma.” Lucas smiled at her, handing her one of the diapers that was next to him even though Amelia had already finished getting Thomas dressed. He looked pretty proud of himself. Amelia took the sweet gesture as a peace offering and laughed with effusive joy. “Luke helps.”

“Yes you do,” Amelia bent over and kissed him multiple times. “You are mommy’s favorite helper.”

“And Tommy too.”

“And Tommy’s favorite too.” Amelia smiled with enchantment at her son’s sneaky manners.

Thomas was yet too young to understand the conversation, but he already recognized people around him and made a fuss when he saw his brother, excitedly moving his arms and legs.

Amelia held his hands and gently helped the baby to sit. At five months, Thomas was starting to learn to hold balance on his own. The neurosurgeon ran her hand through his thin hair, speaking words of encouragement when he didn’t fall back after being helped up.

“Look who’s sitting up!”

“Jesus Christ!” Amelia’s eyes went wide with alarm when Owen unexpectedly surprised her behind her back. He always did that and she hated it. Throwing an unused pack of baby wipes at him as punishment, Amelia tried to control her racing heart. “Why can’t you announce yourself for once? You scare me every time.”

“Because it’s a lot more fun seeing you get worked up like that.” Owen had to dodge her playful attempt to once again hit him, this time with a pillow. Almost instantly, he was warmly welcomed by Lucas who was already pulling his pants to be picked up by his father. “Hey buddy.” Owen crouched and gave his son a warm hug before picking him up. “How are you? How was your day?”

“He was an amazing help to mommy today.” Amelia replied, looking at her son with proud eyes. Lucas noticed it, because his smile couldn’t hide how pleased he was.

“And this little man right here?” Owen sat on the edge of the king size bed his wife and younger son were in.

“He behaved like a gentleman too.” Amelia chuckled, observing her husband motion forward to give their baby a welcoming kiss.

“And what about you?” Owen pulled her by the hand, forcing Amelia down in his direction. He quickly stole a kiss before adding, “Did you behave today too?” He asked her playfully.

Owen knew that Amelia must have had a tough time spending a day entirely alone with the boys while he was at work. It was the first double shift he pulled after Thomas was born and he knew how overwhelming it could be to be at home with two babies for so many hours. But despite tired, she looked happy.

“I always behave.” She returned his loving gaze.

“No, you never do.” Owen looked at her with expectancy in his eyes and smiled lovingly at her. He was up to something and Amelia could tell. “Now, since you’ve been such a team player today and held it together like a champ,” he teased her, “I thought you could use a treat. Go check the kitchen.”

Amelia didn’t waste time wondering what was happening. Instead, she jumped out of bed and raced to the living room. Her face transformed with a smile when she noticed the takeover bags of her favorite restaurant piled on the kitchen counter. Owen had brought them dinner and she felt instantly thankful for him being so amazing.

And Amelia didn’t even need to open the first box to know what it contained. She could already smell her favorite crab cakes. Oh, how well her husband knew her.

“Owen Hunt!” She yelled from the kitchen, unable to see the smile of utter satisfaction on Owen’s face as he lay on the bed, holding both his sons in his arms as he listened to her, anticipating her happiness, which only added to his own before he took the boys to join her. “I love you!”

.

Epilogue

“Is this really him?” Tom asked with a heavy frown.

A baby’s birthday party was the last place on Earth Amelia would expect to find her mentor in and yet there he was, at her house, on her younger son’s first birthday. Everything around them was decorated with safari animals and Tom Koracick looked hilariously out of place standing in the middle of her living room, examining her baby like he couldn’t make up his mind about the boy.

“This is him.” Amelia smiled widely. A few weeks before, she had unpretentiously invited Koracick to  Thomas’s birthday party, not really expecting him to show up. But to her delighted surprised, her former boss showed up on her front step that day. He’d justified it by saying he was in town for a lecture at the University of Washington, but Amelia had a feeling his motives might not be entirely academic. “Tommy, say hi to Uncle Tom.” Amelia encouraged her son.

Tom Koracick stood in front of the boy, his narrowed eyes scanning the infant. With his silver blonde hair and his father’s eyes added to some of Amelia’s most delicate features, Thomas looked like a magazine cover baby.

“Is he a shark?” Koracick asked without any further due, still inspecting the kid. “Because if he is going to be the new me, he needs to be a shark. I want nothing but the very best, Shepherd.”

“He is not going to be you.” Amelia chuckled, watching as Tommy stared back at Koracick with the same intense gaze, not intimidated by the man. “And he is not a shark, he is actually very sweet.”

Koracick shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t worry.” Tom smiled teasingly while looking into Amelia’s eyes. “There is still time for us to change that.”

From a distance, Addison observed the scene, having a great time. She was momentarily distracted by her son Henry who passed by her, quickly followed by Lucas.

“Take it easy, Luke!” Owen advised his two year old, getting to the fridge to get more ice cream for the kids outside. They had a full house today and he loved it.

“Amelia told me about Koracick and the way he suggested you guys named the baby after him.” Addison turned around on her kitchen stool, looking from the living room to Owen. “He really sounds like a piece of work.” The obstetrician smiled. She’d known Koracick through Amelia’s eyes for years but this was the first time she was seeing the man. And he was exactly what Amelia had painted.

“He is a jackass.” Owen summed up, cleaning a spoonful of dropped ice cream before closing the fridge. “But for some reason she admires him and at least he cares about her. I can’t take that for granted.”

Addison knew that just the year before, Tom Koracick had operated on Amelia, saving her life and allowing her to continue her pregnancy without any further complications.

“How is Amy handling it?” Addison asked with a wide grin. “Being the only girl in the house? She is not used to it.” Her long time friend pointed out. Amelia had grown up in a house full of sisters and this experience must be entirely new to her.

Owen processed the question and looked over at his wife, smiling in response. It was a hot summer day and Amelia looked more relaxed than ever happily chatting with their son on her arms.

“She is kicking ass.” Owen replied with pride. He examined her further and noticed the way her white shorts and burgundy top matched her bare feet. The combination only made her look even younger and fresher. Amelia was very attractive and yet she didn’t even need to put on tight clothes, heels or cleavages to appear feminine. Owen found her infinitely more adorable when she was being exactly her regular self. “You know her… She has never had a hard time adjusting to anything new. And she has always been good with girls and boys all the same.” Owen pointed out, examining her outfit once more. “Amelia is like a Tomboy Princess.”

His definition made Addison laugh and she looked over her shoulder, having the same vision as Owen and then nodding in response.

“Yup… That’s the perfect definition.” The obstetrician realized. “She always has been.” Addison looked at Owen with a final head nod and got up, going to her friend’s direction. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but it’s my turn to hold this adorable birthday boy, isn’t it?” She asked, tickling Thomas.

Amelia proudly passed her baby onto Addison and quickly introduced her to Koracick afterwards.

“I heard a lot about you, but I don’t think we’ve met before.” Addison politely smiled.

“Yeah…” Tom looked at her with what looked like approval. “I don’t think so either.” He kept staring at her unceremoniously. “I definitely would have remembered you if we’d met.”

The minute Amelia noticed Tom was flirting with Addison, she stepped away, too amused at Addison’s frown of confusion. Only a guy like Tom Koracick would make such a move at a woman with a wedding band as large as the one Addison had on her finger.

“Having fun?” Owen asked her when she joined him in the kitchen.

“Very much,” Amelia smiled as she looked into his eyes, stepping forward to wrap on arm around his torso. She gently laid her head on him, feeling Owen’s arm surrounding her shoulders. They kept standing, watching from a distance as Tom Koracick made Addison laugh with whatever it was he was saying.

“So, Tommy is one now.” Owen gazed at her expectantly. “Remember what you said?”

“Owen…” Amelia couldn’t help chuckling at his adorable insistence.

“You said that when the boys were older we could do it.” He bargained. “Amelia, you said it, don’t you dare break your word.”

Amelia took a deep breath and held it, determined to pester him.

“Wait until he is a little older and we’ll do it.”

“What?”

That was not the answer Owen wanted to hear.

“You are so mean.” He stared at her with mock offense. “You are a mean witch.”

“When Tom is two we’ll do it.”

“You said when he was one we could do it.”

“Well, I had no idea we would be in for this much work,” she smiled at his frustration, deep down feeling sorry. Amelia didn’t want to disappoint him, but she had gotten her work back on track and there was no way she could take more time off in the near future.

“You owe me this, woman,” Owen looked at her and, unable to hold himself any longer, wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’ll charge you with interest.”

“I’ll be happy to fully pay my debt, then.” Amelia smiled when he used his lips to playfully touch the column of her neck.

“It’s a promise then,” Owen stated, planning on entirely holding her to it.

“Deal.” Amelia smiled, too in love with him to be rational about Owen’s crazy idea.

“So get yourself ready, babe.” Her husband warned her. Amelia chuckled and let out an unplanned giggle when he playfully pinched her bottom. It was almost time for the birthday cake and she had to get Owen back to the present moment, but not without hearing his sweet promise first. For the past few months, her husband had been insisting they went on vacation together and even though Amelia loved the idea, she knew that actually organizing everything and making it work with two young boys would be a challenge. But Owen’s happiness with the plan and his devotion to their family made everything worth it. She still had time to steal one quick kiss before he added, following her to the living room with a large cake in is hands. “Because next destination is Hawaii. And I am not taking no for an answer.”

--

 So that’s a wrap you guys! Thanks for making it all the way here :)

I suppose most of you are familiar with the following story on this timeline, but if not, here is what happens when Owen and Amelia finally go on that Hawaii Trip. 

#omelia #owen hunt #amelia shepherd #omeliafics #myboys #myboysfanfiction #omeliaff #amenff #omeliafanfic #omeliafanfics #greysanatomy #grey's anatomy #greysanatomyfanfic

[crimsonandclover-kataclysm]

Chapter 5- Going to take you apart

Crimson and Clover- Read on Ao3 Chapter 5- Read on Ao3

February, 1985. Hawkins, Indiana

Emilio Estevez and Judd Nelson were the source of much derision Monday morning at Hawkins High School. The Breakfast Club seemed to be rousing a few burning questions, primarily which of the male leads was most attractive. Betty and Missy were discussing this subject emphatically on either side of Diana, who unsurprisingly had yet to see it.

“Andy, all the way,” Betty insisted. “Good guy, bad choices, great arms.” She wore a look that said ‘don’t test me on this, I’ll break you.’

Missy’s face read enthusiastic support as she said matter-of-factly, “Emilio, hands down. All these girls choosing Bender are off their rocker. Hell, Brian is better than Bender.”

Diana didn’t know who Brian was, but she felt bad for him because that sounded like an insult.

“You have to see it,” pressed Missy, jabbing Di in the arm with the corner of her textbook. Di grabbed her calculus workbook, hitting Missy over the head with it as Betty snorted a laugh.

“You do though. What about this week?” Betty added with a nod.

Di closed her locker door, rolling her lips between her teeth as she thought. “Come on,” pestered Missy, bouncing on her toes excitedly. “Surely you have one day this week free to see it! You can’t be working all the time.”

In truth, Diana had Thursday afternoon free, which would work perfectly considering she had yet to make any progress on her Bukowski book report due the same day. As she turned from her locker to face the hall, opening her mouth to answer, she saw him turn the corner. Same curls, same blue eyes (maybe even same white t-shirt? she couldn’t be sure) but much different setting. She hadn’t expected him to acknowledge her, or even look at her, so she definitely didn’t anticipate him locking his gaze onto hers and unabashedly winking as he passed. Blood rushed to her cheeks, and she inhaled sharply, her lips stretching into a shy smile.

She felt her friends’ stares before she saw them. Betty broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Diana. I must have hallucinated. Did Billy Hargrove just wink at you?”

“If you were imagining things, then I must have too, because that boy definitely just eye-fucked her.”

Di turned to her friend in shock, jaw dropping as she exclaimed “Missy!” in protest. Missy fell into a fit of giggles as she looked at Betty, and the two resumed their earlier conversation.

“She’d choose Bender.”

“Bender, most definitely.”

“He had his hand where?” Betty’s voice was incredulous, and her green eyes were wide in shock. Missy was holding in a grin and wringing her hands as if she had just heard the most salacious gossip rather than a story of a boy and girl talking innocently for an hour.

“Really?” Di asked, resigned. “That’s what we’re latching onto?”

An ecstatic laugh erupted out of Missy’s small frame. “But he touched your butt!”

Diana rolled her eyes, falling against the bathroom wall, fighting the smile playing on her lips.

Betty’s eyes somehow widened even further as she breathed, “And you liked it!”

She had nothing to say to that. “Okay, so there you go. You know the story. That’s it. Billy and I just talked.”

“Sounds like Billy wants to do more than just talk,” Missy smirked as she headed out of the bathroom.

Sending a pleading look toward Betty, Diana followed. “Can we not make a big deal out of this? It’s the furthest thing from a big deal.”

Betty patted her gently on the shoulder blade in a sign of solidarity. “You got it, Chief. Meanwhile, I have news about Steve.” She wore a slight smile, and Di was curious. She knew that Betty had harbored feelings for him since they were kids, but it had been an ongoing crush, so Di just assumed it would stay that way until they graduated. Neither she nor her friends were very assertive in their romantic endeavors, though she would root for Betty and Steve in an instant.

“So word is that Jonathan officially asked out Nancy,” Di’s eyebrows shot up, “and that Steve has been moping around about it. But Nancy apparently feels bad about all of it and has been trying to set him up with other girls. So Leigh Anne told me she’d drop my name to Nancy, but I wanted to get your opinion first.” Betty’s expression was innocent and reserved, and Diana felt bad for what she was going to say. She furrowed her brow to add at least the illusion of sympathy to her chiding words.

“So, what you’re saying is-“ she looked pointedly at her friend “-that you’re going to take a chance that Steve is going to want to date a girl who was recommended to him by someone who strung him along for a year and then dumped him while drunk at a Halloween party?”

“Oh.”

“Who ran off with another boy the next week?”

“Damn.”

“Do you really think that will work?”

Betty’s face fell. “It’s better than any shot I have now.”

They were almost at Diana’s chemistry class, so Diana paused outside the door and turned to her, offering her a loving pat on the arm.

“I’ve been friends with Steve for a long time. And I promise, that’s not a shot… you shouldn’t run the risk of having him constantly seeing you as a fill-in for her.”

Blinking and taking in a deep breath, Betty nodded, shooting a soft smile at her. “You’re right.”

Diana bit her lower lip, tilting her head to the side as the corner of her mouth quirked. She could see inside the classroom, just enough to know who had yet to enter. “Just stand here with me a minute, okay? Talk about whatever you want. Just, wait.”

Betty thought a moment, unsure of what she would even want to discuss. Bummed about Steve and wishing she would have made a move a long time ago, or at least asked Di for help. Not that Di hadn’t offered- the three of them used to be fairly close, in the sense that they sat near one another in eighth grade history- but Betty had been reluctant to even try. She thought about Diana, cool and collected and not at all concerned about boys. Except for one, it seemed. A mischievous look crept over Betty’s face as she questioned quietly, “Billy Hargrove?” Diana blushed immediately and began to flounder.

As if on cue, a voice sounded from behind the girls. “What about Billy Hargrove?” They turned around to see a tidy, pale blue sweater, floppy brown hair and arched eyebrows. Betty understood then why they waited. “He giving you trouble, Miller?” Steve asked, hushed and protective.

“Hey, Harrington,” Diana smiled. “No issues with Billy here.”

“Good, ‘cause you know,” Steve nodded, “I’d have to kill him if he was.” Glancing over at Betty and shooting her a smirk, “What about you, Parker? Anyone on your ass?”

Di stifled a grin as Betty retorted quickly. “Only you, as always, Steve.” Oh Betty, always quick on her feet.

“The only way I’d have it,” he smiled full on at Betty, and her cheeks went crimson. For all her self-confidence and bravado, Diana understood that Betty utilized that self-assured veneer to mask her insecurity, though smart and talented, and not to mention she was insanely pretty.

Betty turned to face Diana, “Well, this has been fun.” Then to Steve, “Good to see you, Steve. I gotta get to History.” Heading back the way the girls came from the bathroom, Betty cradled her books to her chest and smiled to herself.

“See ya, Parker!” Steve called after her, his eyes following her path down the hall. Diana repressed a smile. “I feel like I never talk to Betty anymore,” his attention back on Di. “How’s she doing? Still with Mark?”

Shaking her head, Diana’s eyes widened, “Not for like a year, Steve. Where have you been?” She moved towards the classroom door so that they were standing on opposite sides of the frame.

“So she’s single then?” he ignored her question.

Before she could respond with a witty (and helpful) remark, the dizzying scent of cigarette smoke hit her nose, and all she could see for a moment was denim as Billy Hargrove walked straight between them. This time, he didn’t acknowledge Diana.

Rolling his eyes, Steve pulled a face and followed Billy demonstratively into the classroom, taking his usual seat in the corner closest to the door- he liked a clean getaway. Billy had sat in his spot between the window and Tommy, and Diana sat where she always did in every classroom she inhabited. Fourth row from the door, two seats from the front. She didn’t know why she liked that placement most of all, but if she sat anywhere else, she couldn’t focus. Well, maybe she could, but she wouldn’t.

This set her diagonally from Tommy, who Billy noticed staring as soon as Miller took her seat. Not that she didn’t look fucking incredible in whatever jeans those were. He didn’t allow himself to think she might be putting in effort for his benefit.

Seeing her with Steve put Billy in a foul mood. And it didn’t help that two full days had passed and all he could think about was touching her, and in so many more ways than he did on Friday. Damn tease. What he ought to have done is find another bitch to entertain him, but she wasn’t just entertainment- she pervaded his every thought. And when he caught sight of her casually flipping her hair over her shoulder, he was drawn back to those moments where he could have run his fingers through those locks. The ghost of her hand in his brushed over his palm, and he knew there was no chance anyone was going to push Diana Miller from his brain. Annoyed and frustrated as hell, he rapped his blunt fingernails on the desk, leaning back so that he could survey the classroom. His gaze returning to Tommy on multiple occasions to see that his eyes hadn’t lingered from Diana.

As if he could feel Billy’s glare, Tommy turned to him, a smirk ripe on his lips. “Man, Miller’s really filling out those Calvin’s in all the right ways today.” Diana’s head shot around, her eyes connecting with Billy’s. He could practically feel her anger and humiliation, and his blood ran cold in his veins. A fire building in his gut that made him want to knock Tommy’s lights out.

He didn’t flinch, moving his stare again to Tommy. Surprisingly and completely against intuition, he kept his voice cool and low. “Too bad she’s too good for you to get your hands on, huh?” Tommy’s smirk wiped clean from his face, he turned front and stared down his desk as Billy looked once more at Diana, who had rolled her lips between her teeth, cheeks stretched in a grin. She felt something warm wash over her as he leered, protective and primal.

Blushing, she broke their eye contact and turned front, tapping her pencil against her desk lightly. Too good for you to get your hands on, the words rotated and ricocheted through her brain as she let out a breath that almost sounded like a giggle. Of all people, Billy Hargrove knew damn well how good you’d have to be to get hands on her.

Tuesday afternoon, Diana finally finished Hot Water Music, and though a very good book, boy, was she tired of Bukowski and his blunt pessimism. The only thing that really got her through it (besides a big book report that counted ten percent of her grade) was the fact that when she read it, she felt miles closer to Billy. She’d resigned herself to the fact that Billy Hargrove wasn’t going anywhere. Not out of Hawkins, and more importantly, not out of her mind. It didn’t help that she held a little piece of him in her grasp. Turning the book over in her hands, she let her fingers trace over the worn and flaking cracks in the binding. Pressing the cover to her lips as she inhaled through her nose, wondering if the scent was just the book or if it was him. Warm and musty, the faint hint of cigarette smoke in an afterthought. Di almost missed him.

When she opened the pages, the browned paper revealed straight and clean writing in the margins. Notes and thoughts on the passages, thoughts that were purely Billy. Diana didn’t think she could have understood the purpose of the collection of stories had it not been for his help. Funny enough, she could have thanked him for a lot recently, and the idea made her heart flutter.

Diana couldn’t exactly place how she felt about him. She knew the talk, the rumors. He was charming, but only on the exterior. He could get a girl home, but he wouldn’t stay. He knew the right things to say, but would only say them to get what he wanted. He knew the exact wrong things to say too, and he’d say those as often as he pleased. But she wondered how many people he had told about California, about how he’d get up in the morning and immediately drive to the beach, how he’d sit on the rocks overlooking the shoreline and read, how he’d take Max to the arcade and flirt with the girl who worked at the diner next door.  Bits of information escaped him in pieces, but they were pieces that Diana thought only she might have seen.

Except that maybe he did know just what to say. Maybe he knew that the only way to get to Diana was if he let her get to him. Maybe he was playing her like a fiddle. Dropping the book to her lap and sighing at the ceiling, Diana scrunched up her face, thinking maybe she finally understood Bukowski and his jaded outlook. And with the pang that seized her heart and the aid of the notes Billy had left in his copy of the book, she began to write.

With the book report turned in, out of sight, out of mind, Diana reclined happily in her desk. She had agreed to meet Betty and Missy right after class to catch the last matinee of The Breakfast Club, so she was passing the time by braiding small sections of her hair and dragging her fingernails over the small plaits to unravel them. Listening to her teacher compare contemporary literary movements with mild interest, she spared a glance to Steve, who sat in the corner, eyes vacant and jaw gaping, his face plastered against his hand. She raised her palm to her lips to stifle her giggle.

Cheetahs had moved slower than Diana Miller as she busted out of the classroom when the bell rang, running to meet her friends where they exited their shared Spanish class. The middle school had a pep rally scheduled for the start of spring sports, so her free period was for once completely open. Betty smiled brightly as Diana approached, and Missy wrapped her arm around Di’s shoulders (though not completely successfully due to the height difference).

“Are you sure Little Miss Perfect is okay with skipping the end of the day?” she teased, giving Diana a good squeeze.

Rolling her eyes, she pushed Missy away by the top of her head, and all three girls laughed as Missy narrowly missed falling into Christopher Bentley, who dodged her expertly before shooting them a fierce glare.

Diana truly missed being able to spend time with her friends, despite having so much fun teaching and working with the eighth graders. Having laughed more on the ride to the theater in Betty’s brand-spankin’-new Ford Thunderbird- not quite as nice as Missy’s Mustang, but it was well suited for Betty- than she had since the new year, Di had the thought that nothing would get her spirits down. But then she rolled down the passenger window and watched with a bubbling of worry in her gut as the drab of the school she was skipping faded from view.

Billy sat by the window twirling the ring above his middle knuckle, looking outside aimlessly as his U.S. History teacher droned on about the Great Depression. A flash of red sped by, and he caught sight of the chestnut hair that had been dominating his thoughts. Startled, he checked his watch. What the hell is Miller up to leaving school early? Quietly, he stuffed his pencil in his pocket, hooking his arms through his jacket and pulling his feet off of the chair in front. With a nod and a quick “Bathroom” directed toward Mr. Edwards, he headed out of the classroom and straight to his car.

The Breakfast Club. The fucking Breakfast Club. He’d already seen it, needing something to occupy his time on Saturday while Maxine was at the arcade, so he contemplated waiting in the lobby of the theater. However, he wasn’t sure that he wanted Diana to know he was there. It would be pretty hard to explain his showing up in the same place at the same time, so he thought it best to just avoid both her and that conversation.

Sneaking to a seat in the back in the middle of the previews, he made sure he was able to see Diana clearly, specifically for her reactions. In fact, the entertainment for him was more in watching her than seeing the movie again. When the movie started, Di was moving freely, changing positions in her seat, throwing that hair around and running her fingers through it, scratching the back of her neck. Because she left before her free period, he made the assumption that she didn’t get to teach and had no physical release. I can help with that, he thought smoothly.

After the opening monologue, she settled down a little, and he was able to consistently observe her profile. He wasn’t close enough to be noticed, but he could aptly see the little quirks in the corner of her mouth and the way her eyes would wrinkle as she laughed. Mainly, he kept his focus trained on her lips. He had two hours- he might as well be thinking of something good.

Throughout the movie, he found himself trying to relate Diana to the characters. He couldn’t pin her down to just one because she had a little bit of each. Andrew’s demeanor, Claire’s fire, Allison’s isolation, and Brian’s drive. The only one who didn’t seem to apply to her was Bender, which was just fine. He had Bender in him enough for the both of them.

Bender’s reenactment of his home life began, and Billy shifted uncomfortably, tugging on his earring out of reflex. He hated this scene the first time he saw it, and there was no way in hell a second time would change that. His eyes hyper focused on Diana, he watched her clamp her jaw closed, the muscle pulsing slightly beneath her skin. Her eyes though, they were glossy, almost misted over. A stark contrast to the short girl next to her who rolled her eyes and shook her head. Billy wondered if she found out what plagued him at home if she would be so sympathetic. He’d never encountered that response before.

Diana was unbridled. Laughing freely, smiling often, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t seen. He could have watched her so unguarded all day, addicted to how fucking sexy it was that she wasn’t preoccupied by anyone else’s perception, especially his own. He felt almost like a voyeur, like he was seeing something totally taboo, even though all he did wrong was not pay to see a shitty movie.

The closing thoughts in the letter were wishful thinking in his opinion, but there was something about Diana’s undivided attention and energetic hope that surged through him. Even better and warmer and more all-consuming than the fire of aggression that lit up his stomach when he was angry. So overtaken by it that when the opening chords of the Simple Minds tune coincided with Bender’s fist pump, Billy’s eyes widened in shock, and he shot as discreetly as he could out of his seat and left the theater.

Di noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye, her head whipping around to catch a closing door to a fully lit lobby. The image of sun kissed curls and a nice ass in really tight jeans retreating from the auditorium. Billy.

February mornings in Hawkins were not typically conducive for running, but the weatherman advised getting as much time outside in the unusual warm before the last big cold front of the season, so Diana was tying her shoes in her foyer. Bracing herself for the icy chill of the wind to hit her face as she pulled the door open, she took off at a moderate pace to warm up. There had been no immediate ramifications for her rebellion Thursday afternoon, but she told Sandra about it anyway. Sandra was not the type to micromanage, and Diana was a little concerned that her mother had almost seemed proud.

Seven o’clock on Saturday morning, and Hawkins was still asleep. Di ran past the farms, favoring the edges of town, enjoying the quiet that the clear sky and barely risen sun brought to Hawkins. She was able to think plainly and uninterrupted while she observed the bare scenery and uninhabited streets. Feeling the strain in her shins, her muscles protested the cold, but she bore on, increasing her pace slightly to numb them.

She was plotting- Betty had been making more and more comments about Steve Harrington, and Diana was coming to the conclusion that the only way to proceed was to actually deal with the situation. She played out different scenarios in her head of them interacting. Should I have mentioned her crush when he was asking about it? Would he pursue her? Did that look mean anything? were all thoughts that rushed through her head.

A distinct image of Betty offering Steve a ride in her new car to the soundtrack of Rick Springfield’s “Love Somebody” was interrupted by the sign of life approaching Diana on the backroad behind the large houses in Loch Nora. Squinting, she tried to make out the running figure. All she could see from afar was a white t-shirt and heather gray sweatpants, but as they converged, she was able to identify the male as Billy Hargrove, headphones perched over his ears connecting to the Walkman in his hand. She contemplated stopping to talk to him but then remembered his appearance at the theater. Not having thought about it then, she wondered if maybe he was throwing himself in her path on purpose.

As they passed one another, she shot him a small wave and smile but made no move to halt, testing the waters. Unsurprised to see him alter his path, he looped around to catch up to her. He pulled the headphones down to hang around his neck. “The hell are you doing out this early?” he goaded, close enough to her to brush her arm.

She responded curtly, a smirk on her face. “Running.”

Breathing out a laugh, “Away from something?”

“Yes. You.” Diana picked up her pace, turning her head to make eye contact with him.

His whole face lit up, accepting the challenge. “Oh, Princess, you’re going to have to run a lot faster than that to get away from me.” Taking a deep breath and stretching his stride, he sprinted about twenty feet ahead of her, turning around when a comfortable distance away. He jogged backwards with a grin on his face as her eyes glanced downwards at the way his shirt was bouncing to reveal that tan skin and those rigid abs.

Oh hell no, Diana fumed when her eyes once again met the smug expression on his face, chewing on her cheeks as she honed in her concentration on the stop sign at the entrance to the neighborhood. She didn’t think, she just bolted, booking it to the sign and around the corner. “No problem!” she called back over her shoulder to a shocked Billy.

It didn’t take him long to catch up to a reasonable distance, but he never could quite keep on pace with her. And one of Diana’s strengths even in Track and Field was noticing when her opponent was tired. She sensed weakness and took advantage of it. Ten minutes of lulling Billy into a sense of false security and then bounding ahead led them straight to the school.

The gate to the football stadium was open, and she ducked inside to the track, grateful for the release of pressure on her joints. He followed her for a few laps, but as she passed the 50 yard line on her third lap, she noticed him stop, face aimed toward the ground heaving breaths with his hands on his knees. To complete a mile, she did five more quick laps around the track before joining him, laid out on his back in the grass.

She relaxed far enough away to do a few stretches, pulling her knees to her chest and rolling her hips from side to side to stretch her lower back. He was quiet, and she found his breathing a nice ambience to her coming down after the run. Glancing over at him, she saw that he was already watching her, eyes wide and jaw slightly ajar. Billy cleared his throat.

“Out of shape,” he acknowledged. “Probably some smoker’s lung too.” She laughed at his trying to cover his tracks with flimsy excuses- they both knew she could outrun him any day of the week.

“So, stalker,” she made no attempt to segue, “Did you enjoy the movie?”

He turned his face away, but she didn’t miss the smile. “I liked it better the second time. You seemed to have a good time.”

“The thought was nice. Ruffians banding together and all that jazz,” she grinned at him. “You can’t fit people in boxes like that though- we have a little bit of all of them in us.”

“Except for me- I’m Bender all the way,” he scoffed without thinking, immediately regretting his admission.

She rolled her eyes, looking back up to the powder blue sky. “It’s the long hair, isn’t it?”

His lips stretched into a grin as he turned to observe her profile, picking at a long blade of grass beneath his fingers. “Something like that.” Pulling the grass from its roots, he lifted his arm to throw the blades in her face.

She moved too slowly to block it, ending up with grass stuck between her lips, but her reflexes did allow for her to grab his wrist in her hand. Eyes wide, he tensed his fist, lifting his other arm to grab her hand defensively before relaxing under her hold. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, running her fingers down his forearm to a patch of glossy white skin. She wiped her mouth with her other arm to get rid of the grass before questioning quietly, “What’s this?”

Billy shrugged, breathing out unevenly, “Been there forever.” Circling the tip of her middle finger over the scar, she looked up to lock her eyes with his. Her hand stilled, palm resting on his forearm, and the look on his face could have burned a hole straight through her.

The wind was blowing, and though the temperatures were still low, Diana’s body heat was rising. She pulled away, breaking their connection to look up, running her hands over her face. Until now, Billy had been the one to initiate: coming to the gym, standing up for her, following her to the theater. It was about time she reciprocated.

Reaching up to her ear, she pulled out the small gold stud in the shape of the moon that her father had given her when she got her ears pierced at six years old, reattaching the back to the peg. Dropping it into his grasp and closing his fingers over it, she kept her hand on his and looked back at him. He registered the reference with a small but genuine smile that crossed his face slowly.

Bender, most definitely.

The cold front hit Hawkins hard. Diana was staring wistfully out of the window in her English class, dreading her walk across campus to the middle school. Rain had frozen and little pellets of hail were cracking against the glass. Small flakes fell to the ground as well, looking like a wintry mix from hell. She wasn’t sure that it was worth it, tapping her pen to her head in hopes that she might jab too hard and save herself from having to go outside. When the bell rang, she trudged through the hallway slowly, but as she walked outside, she sprinted to the nearest door of the middle school, banging against it so that someone would let her in. Mrs. Dawson peeked her head around her door angrily and shot Di a look as cold as the outside when she finally let her in.

“Class is in session, Ms. Miller,” she harped, and a singular piece of gray hair fell out of place of her tightly wound bun as she closed her door sharply. Diana laughed to herself at the irony. She jogged to the gym to warm up and was pleased when she walked onto the hardwood and felt no noticeable drop in temperature. It was her last full week with these kids before they began their new rotation, and she wanted to enjoy it.

Dustin was in rare form, running up to Diana and asking questions about the historic roots of soccer and ‘how exactly would I calculate the trajectory of the ball’. She found herself shrugging and ruffling his hair to shut him up on more than one occasion, to which he would just smile his unequivocal beacon of a smile, squint his eyes and say “okay,” before walking away. Later in class, Diana caught him and Christine together having an in depth discussion about soccer-related urban legends. How they had time to do that while playing dodgeball, she had no clue.

After class, Max ran up to Di, “Did you see? I made the team!” Throwing her arms around Diana’s neck in a hug, she thanked her profusely for her help. Diana beamed in excitement, asking questions about the start of practices and the game schedule. The students put the balls away at the end of class, so Di had very little cleanup, and she accompanied Max to the door once she wrapped up in her coat and scarf. Opening the floodgates, they both shivered simultaneously, looking out at the gray and white carnage of snow and water. “You aren’t walking home in this, are you?” Max pressed, pursing her lips when Diana shrugged. “Ride with us. Billy won’t say no.”

They walked toward the barely visible Camero (which Di could only pinpoint because of the Metallica blasting from within), and as they approached, Steve’s BMW pulled up around the drive. Billy rolled down his window to match Steve.

“Di, do you need a ride home?” Steve called out with Dustin in the passenger seat nodding his head emphatically.

Diana looked between Steve and Billy, locking her eyes on the latter and waiting for a reaction. His look was searing, and when none came, she looked back at Steve thoughtfully- no decision had to be made, it was no question. “That’s okay, Steve. Billy’s house is closer to mine. Thank you!” She quickly jogged over to the passenger side of the Camero, slamming the door quickly behind her.

She didn’t miss Steve’s boisterous, “Hargrove, drive slowly, will ya? I want my girls home safe!” before rolling up his window and speeding away.

Billy’s knuckles white against the steering wheel, he rolled up his own windows and cranked up the heat in the car, reversing quickly out of his spot.

“So,” he began, glancing at Di, an agitated edge to his voice, “you going to the party next week?”

Scrunching up her face, she responded in distaste, “What party?”

He slammed his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the music that might well have been shaking the car. “Oh, at the rich girl’s house? Donna Lewis?” Diana raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips, watching him with bated breath. “I figured you’d be going with Harrington since you’re his girl.”

“I am not anyone’s girl,” she replied quickly, furrowing her brow. Unsure why he was being so petulant, she thought she had made it clear with giving him the earring that he and only he had her attention. “Are you going?”

“Thought about it,” he shrugged. “I thought I might take someone.” Her eyes brightened, but she didn’t respond, waiting patiently for him to get it out himself. She nodded as if to egg him on, silently asking who he would take. “Maybe Martha Davies is free,” he threw out, his voice apathetic and unfeeling.

Diana’s thumping heart seized in her chest, a fury rising up through her gut. She was confused and angry, and she didn’t want to blurt something she would regret. So jutting out her lower jaw with a sharp “okay,” she crossed her arms and stared out the passenger window. She didn’t say anything else the rest of the drive.

When he pulled into her driveway, she whispered a quick goodbye and thank you to Max before hurrying out of the car and into her house. Max stared at Billy angrily. “Why did you do that?” she demanded.

He glanced at her through the rearview mirror, but he kept his mouth clamped closed. Billy didn’t have to explain himself to anyone. That Harrington pissed him off, and now here was Max rushing to Diana’s defense for not speaking up. He was just baiting her, testing the waters. Somehow in the process, he became the villain.

“Why did you let Steve get a rise out of you?” Again, nothing. As he parked the car on the street, she climbed out of the car and glared at him through the door. “So not only are you an asshole, Billy, but you’re also an idiot.” Slamming the door closed, Max stormed up the steps while Billy’s face contorted as he smashed his hands against his dashboard. Fuck.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x ofc #dacre montgomery

[samdukewieland]

Stuck Inside Media Diary Week 9

It was sometime during this week, very possibly the week before that I realized why egg-zacktly Mad Men has been so (”comforting” seems like a big word here, but let’s just say) comforting during this period of time. Well I guess there’s a couple of reasons, time being one of them: being able to escape to other peoples’ problems and not have them be (overtly) contemporary. The second just as obvious being that this show spends probably 95% of its settings indoors. Maybe once a season do you see these people outside for whatever reason; season 3 was probably the height of having scenes outdoors, between Sally’s teacher and those scenes and then the Roger/Jane Old Kentucky Home wedding. Surely I’ve been outside more hours than watching Mad Men these past 7 weeks, but at this point I don’t really know. Hasn’t made me want a cigarette, so that’s something.

Sunday, May 17

Sour Grapes, Rothwell & Atlas 2016 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

Pretty neat little telling of rich people getting scammed. Definitely better than the Fyre Fest docs that came out last year, though you can see this as almost a model for it, however my problems with those are the same problem here, being I don’t really care that these insanely rich people got duped. I mean I care because it feels good, but rarely do you get someone in that position (especially from a financial standpoint) admitting they got duped or doing it in a way where they’re trying not to come across as a victim. And like I get it, I know that’s the point of some of these where it’s “look at their lack of self-awareness” but that’s not particularly satisfying. What’s satisfying is seeing the person do this and explain how they did it (the why is pretty obvious) and what their process is. You wouldn’t want to see a documentary about Terry Benedict having his casinos robbed and act like he doesn’t know why (I mean I would, because I invite almost anything from the Ocaen’s-verse, but you get my point).

Mad Men, “Collaborators”, ��To Have And To Hold”, “The Flood”

Season 6, upon this viewing, appears to be the weakest or second to weakest season of the series; I don’t really know for sure. It’s definitely not bad, but lacks the sense of urgency to watch. It’s a little repetitive in some of its storytelling choices with Don, but does explore the motives of the men who want to be him, but lack that Dick Whitman/Don Draper drive that only he has (in the realm of Mad Men). Pete, not unlike Don, decides to keep up his habit of having an affair (with another married person too) and keeps it close to home feeling very in tune with Pete Campbell mentality: not seeing the dangers of shitting where he eats. Sure he keeps his affair to the confines of his Manhattan apartment, but it’s with a woman who not only lives in his neighborhood, but someone who is friendly enough with his wife. It backfires instantly and because no one has ever had a frank discussion with Pete about the consequences of his actions, this might be the first time Pete has actually had to learn a lesson. But because no one talks him through “this is where you messed up and this is how you can become a better and bigger person from this” it almost feeds his outwardly victimhood. Once again, props to Vincent Kartheiser for playing Pete Campbell perfectly for 6 straight seasons (and beyond). 

And here’s something Season 6 decides to ponder: how about Bobby Draper? How about Bobby Draper deals with the assassination of MLK through seeing Planet Of The Apes? Probably the toughest look Mad Men took in its run (besides Hamm losing every year to Cranston for best actor) that it totally asks for.

The Last Dance, Parts 9 & 10

The end. This thing went out how it lived: absurdly entertaining while still being confounding in what it decided to say and how to present itself. There’s probably a lot to be taken from it, but my brain will forever linger on “eat the pizza.” (partly due to The Ticket, partly due to it being one of the funniest lies I’ve ever been told) Also I’m not a Pearl Jam listener (this genre of rock is my absolute biggest blind spot), but uh, that song’s pretty cool that they played there at the end; good sports montage moment-reminded me of a montage to close out a season of The Wire. No “Right Here, Right Now” though.

Monday, May 18

Circus Of Books, Mason 2019 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

Pleasant enough li’l entry of history about an important cultural landmark in LA; it really banks on the notion of “you’d never assume these people run this store” which isn’t ineffective. But it doesn’t come from an impartial place, it comes from the daughter of the store owners, which you could argue makes her the most qualified person to tell this story. But when your subjects are so unassuming and almost bothered by your insistence to tell this story it comes across as more (unintentionally) uncomfortable rather than trying to prove a point. But that’s kind of the looming question over all of this too-what’s the point? The titular bookstore closed last year, implying that there’s importance to this instantaneously being a historic document, when really it’s just a love letter to your parents and also your brother to tie it together just a little bit nicer.

Mad Men, “For Immediate Release”

The episode where it starts to find its footing again; as interesting an idea as it is to separate Don and Peggy on paper, the execution leaves so much to be desired. Peggy needs a force to push up against and while I’m sure she might have with Jim Cutler, but that’s not super interesting. Teaming up Ted and Don, maybe the only person to respect Don as an artist, but openly questioning his method to him on the show and not taking his excuses at face value.

Tuesday, May 19

Platoon, Stone 1986

Yeh, I don’t think I like Oliver Stone movies. I think I like the ideas of them, but ultimately I just don’t think it’s a match (heartbreaking for him). Part of this was I was on a massive Apocalypse Now high chose this as a chaser for that, which is mistake, and I knew this as I was watching. Or maybe it’s just that, explicitly, Vietnam movies set out to punish you for watching them, both in trying so hard to prove its authenticity while still being heavy-handed in other regards. Oliver Stone kind of feels like your cousin who insists on telling you that Dr. Strangelove is *actually* a farce and satire (yeh, I’ve used this before-guess what, it’s happened to me).

Mad Men, “Man With A Plan”, “The Crash”

Mad Men does its Sopranos karaoke best when drugs are involved, plain and simple. Though truly wild and Tony Soprano-levels of insanity when Don forces Lindsay Weir Sylvia to stay in that hotel room for like two days straight (or maybe a day, I don’t remember).

Wednesday, May 20

Blown Away, Hopkins 1994

I can 100% guarantee you that the only reason I thought I should see this movie is because it’s been lodged in my brain and marked as “important?” because Bill Simmons mentioned it offhandedly in a podcast once saying it’s a “_____ Boston movie.” So when I was scrolling through local listings, as I’m wont to do, and I saw that it was on, almost like a Pavlovian response, I immediately hit set to record. I’ve fallen for the trap of “record movie that should only be watched if it just happens to be on-do not go out of your way to watch it” and this is just the latest entry into it. This thing’s a quintessential dad-movie that has a wayyyy better poster than it should. I should probably be mad that I watched it, but this thing is so beautifully stupid that I’d be betraying myself by acting like it isn’t entirely in my wheelhouse. I was just happy to see the marble machine pop back up when it did.

Mad Men, “The Better Half”

“Hey, uh....how about Bobby goes to Bible Camp and we just use that as an excuse to bring Don and Betty back together for a one-night fling? Yeh, I think it’s pretty good too.” Tough break for the loss of Abe, though-they always kept him far enough to want you wanting more of him, which was probably the right decision, ultimately.

Hearts Of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse, Bahr & Hickenlooper & Coppola 1991

Was this good for Coppola’s image in 91? It’s coming kind of off the heels of Godfather III, which is maybe the most damning way to start off a decade. Maybe the biggest knock against this is that there’s probably still a lot unsaid, or the thing that’d be better is if you could’ve been a fly on the wall during the actual production or the editing of the documentary.

Thursday, May 21

S Is For Stanley, Infascelli 2016 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

You have to wonder if the Kubrick estate was pulling some strings to have this made as a preemptive strike against Filmworker. Yeh, yeh, we all know Stanley was difficult (man geniuses tend to be!) but what if I told you that he had a friendly side with his sweet old Italian driver who he kind of held hostage? I guess because Emilio D'Alessandro had the benefit of not working directly on the movies/Art Kubrick was making a professional/personal distance was able to be established. It’s cute and charming (small, old Italian men have that effect on me)-there’s not much more you should demand of it.

Mad Men, “A Tale Of Two Cities”, “Favors”

Sopranos karaoke meets coke part from Annie Hall. Then maybe the most traumatic thing to happen to Sally Draper, rivaled by the most traumatic thing to happen to Pete Campbell (via Peggy relaying info). Though I will say, those small moments between Peggy and Pete, moments we don’t get a lot of, are so nice, because it is one of the few times this show’s characters are stripped of trying to have an upper hand. Honesty between people, not Mad Men’s bread and butter (it has never sought to be), but they know how to serve it up in small enough doses that you don’t take them for granted when they happen.

Friday, May 22

Chinatown, Polanski 1974

Weird how no one talks about this movie being incredible. Glad I can be at the forefront for this, clearly, little seen flick and champion it as much as possible! With that said, knife to the nostril is a very real new fear for me.

Top Chef, Season 17 episode 10

If I were a person who cared about the olympics I could see myself either being very melancholy or furious after this episode. Fine challenge, though not totally surprising. I dunno man, you gotta imagine how annoyed these contestants get every time Malarkey outlives them-or at the very least incredibly tickled by it. Looking forward to binging Last Chance Kitchen before this next week’s ep.

Mad Men,  “The Quality Of Mercy”

The Ken Cosgrove eyepatch is such a weird choice, but not altogether terrible. Hard to take a guy with an eyepatch seriously, which is probably the reason they gave it to Ken, because no one in that office does. The Bob Benson is a fraud reveal is fascinating in the sense of the writers trying out an experiment of “what if Don Draper but different job” though far more obvious. And what perfect symmetry having Pete find out from Duck (the man who thought he’d be able to use this information against Don and the man who, at the top of his game, absolutely could’ve used it against Don) about Bob and learned his lesson from 5 years ago and knowing how to use that information to his benefit (the setup to it is still pretty good, because I reacted this time the same way I did in 2014 with “oh Pete, you are dumb as hell” forgetting what the reveal is).

Saturday, May 23

Cast Away, Zemeckis 2000 [as of now this is available on HBO]

Somehow made it as long as I did without having seen Cast Away and it’s pretty good and also maybe the first time a Zemeckis movie gives worth to its character being (almost) extraordinary? Like in almost all his movies these characters kind of stumble into this otherworldly, almost other plane, level of humanity and ability; there tends to be a lot of right place at the right time with his main characters. So I had no idea that Cast Away flash forwards 4 years in the middle of its story (I’m kind of amazed with how little I knew about the bigger plot points of this movie, like no idea that it takes place in 1995 to start off) and not just making him instantaneous amazing hermit-man. It’s a fun movie, though I’m sure if I’d seen this in high school or early college I’d be all in a huff because of the whales, which is clearly just Zemeckis not being able to help himself. Whatever, pretty good and I’m glad he and Helen Hunt don’t end up together (though it does raise an incredible hypothetical). Though if you’re throwing a “welcome back from nowhere” party to a guy, wouldn’t you want to stick to specifically turf food as the delicacy you deliver to him? Like you’re already in Memphis, which is a pretty suspect location to have crab-give the man some BBQ, something without a shadow of a doubt he didn’t have access to on a deserted island.

Mad Men, “In Care Of” [season 6 finale], “Time Zones” [season 7A premier], “A Day’s Work”, “Field Trip”

The birth of “Not Great Bob!” truly a landmark. Season 6 is weird, it’s all a build-up, but Don’s descent has been going on for so long it’s hard to pinpoint what led to it all (maybe his divorce with Betty? Signing a contract? Anna passing away? there are so many chaos dominoes on the table that contribute to it all). Man needs therapy or to be reminded of who he is or how he got here. He’s brought down several, several pegs and he stays there and lingers in it, but he’ll be dammed if he isn’t loyal till the bitter end, or at least loyal to what he can be in control of and what he cares about (he does not care about Megan’s acting, though he does care about Megan and how much of her life he has put on halt).

Minority Report, Spielberg 2002 [as of now this is available on Netflix]

Steven Spielberg makes perfect Saturday movies. This is the sort of thing that if you had put it in anyone else’s hands it’d be without that crucial Spielberg twinge of hope or love that is the motivation behind its lead’s actions. It’s fun and pulpy and washed out and dark and takes Spielberg back to his feature debut: it’s a chase movie. It’s almost 2½ hours that flies by.