#first lady hazel mitchell
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Four Year Anniversary Portraits
Del Sol Valley
Soleil House
Mr. Harrison Mitchell, President of Del Sol Valley
Full Name:Â Harrison James Mitchell Title(s):Â President of Del Sol Valley Nickname(s):Â Harry Birthday:Â February 23rd Residence(s):Â Soleil House (Del Sol Valley) Previous Names/Titles:Â Mr. Harrison Mitchell Parents:Â Mr. Ezra & Mrs. Audrey Mitchell Spouse:Â First Lady Hazel Mitchell Children:Â Mr. Jay & Miss Eva Mitchell
Mrs. Hazel Mitchell, First Lady of Del Sol Valley
Full Name:Â Hazel Marion Mitchell Title(s):Â First Lady of Del Sol Valley Nickname(s):Â N/A Birthday:Â May 24th Residence(s):Â Soleil House (Del Sol Valley) Previous Names/Titles:Â Mrs. Hazel Mitchell, Miss Hazel Thomas Parents:Â Mr. Raymond & Mrs. Lavender Thomas Spouse:Â President Harrison Mitchell Children:Â Mr. Jay & Miss Eva Mitchell
Mr. Jay Mitchell
Full Name:Â Jay Harrison Mitchell Title(s):Â First Son of Del Sol Valley Nickname(s):Â N/A Birthday:Â June 24th Residence(s):Â Soleil House (Del Sol Valley) Previous Names/Titles:Â N/A Parents:Â President Harrison Mitchell & First Lady Hazel Mitchell Spouse:Â N/A Children:Â N/A
Miss Eva Mitchell
Full Name:Â Eva Marie Mitchell Title(s):Â First Daughter of Del Sol Valley Nickname(s):Â Evie Birthday:Â August 16th Residence(s):Â Soleil House (Del Sol Valley) Previous Names/Titles:Â N/A Parents:Â President Harrison Mitchell & First Lady Hazel Mitchell Spouse:Â N/A Children:Â N/A
#ts4#ivanov legacy#ts4 simblr#ts4 legacy#anniversary portrait#4 year anniversary#president harrison mitchell#first lady hazel mitchell#jay mitchell#eva mitchell
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Duck, duck, duck, duck, Goose! | Top Gun Fanfic đ§¸
Top Gun AUâď¸
ââ
Pairing: Nick Bradshaw x Carole Bradshaw , Pete Mitchell & Tom Kazansky
Summary: When it came to kids Carole, Iceman and Maverick only had to worry about two. Bradley and his young brother, Dane. Then came Jenny. It seemed fit, 3 for 3! But when another Mitchell kid, came along they realized they had more on their hands. 4 for 4!
Characters mentioned/include: Audrey, Buzz, Wraith, Slider, Hazel, and the rest of the 86â class
Timeline: Post-Top Gun (1986), Pre Top Gun Maverick
Warning: Canon character death mentioned
Fic type: Fluff and humorous, with small moments of angst
Previous fic â> Click here
âââ
There were moments like this where if you told Maverick and the others years ago, that kids would be part of the agenda they wouldâve laughed at you so hard and through you were crazy.
But then the kids started coming over the years.
It started with Goose and Carole. High school sweethearts destined to get married and have kids of their own, where everyone can only wish to have a portion of what they had.
Of course, they had little Bradley Bradshaw or baby goose as he was nicknamed.
Adorable little blonde boy with cubby cheeks and a curious little smile that meant determination. He looked just like his father in every way, Maverick would tell his nephew that years to come.
It was great being a little group of 4. Memories made and laughs saved.
But sadly, then Goose died after a training accident while Carole and Bradley were there to visit them. Maverick felt horrible, so did Iceman, Audrey and the rest of the 86â class. Gloomy painful days were to come after that.
However there was a flip side, a little surprise to come after the clouds were blowing away.
And that little beam of sunlight became Dane Bradshaw many months later.
Carole didnât know she was pregnant at the time until Audrey pointed out how fuzzy she felt lately and honestly they couldnât have been happier in that moment.
Maverick lightly joked, âWow! I guess Goose really take you to bed.â
âOh Mav, play nice and that was a little secret.â Replied the Carole with a smile joking back.
Sunset chuckled, âAnd made sure to leave a bag of surprises afterwards.â
â
Goose really did leave a bag of surprise afterwards but they didnât know that yet until years later.
Duck, duck, duck, duck, Goose!
â
Dane Bradshaw was the spitting image of his mother with such a warmth and gentle smile to him, he was nicknamed pooh bear.
Him and Bradley were only 2-3 years apart in age, but there will be moments where they acted like they shared the same brain cell. Being silly little ducklings, surprising people with their charm and sweet tactics.
There were days Carole would come home to the kids (along with Maverick) causing a mess in the house baking. Days where the boys will go playing with water guns and end up getting Audreyâs clothes wet.
Or with Iceman, where Bradley would show their uncle an idea for an airplane to build with boxes and other items in the house. Meanwhile Dane would collect all the ideas, wanting to go big or go bold enough to shine with their plane where Ice couldnât have the heart to say no.
Other times, Dane was the sweetest thing in the whole entire world. A gushing image is a gentle breeze holding up flowers to his aunties such as Hazel and Audrey, making get well cards for his mama. Hugging his uncle Mav and teasing his uncle Ice with a little grin.
But he was also very protective, him and his brother, being a guard dog when it comes their mother. That goes for Hazel, Valkyrie, Audrey and whatever other lady in their lives.
ââââ
Speaking on ladies, they were surprised at the time she arrived. It was an unexpected surprise indeed as for she came at an old hour of the night. No alert, no phone call or an letter from the post man.
Just an knock on the door in a carrier held the first half of The Mitchell-Bradshaw clan. Jennifer Penelope Mitchell, or as she was nickname princess.
Donât worry she gets a handful of nicknames later on, so do all the kids!
Pete and Ice were in total shock at the bundle of joy brought to their attention but welcomed her with open arms nonetheless.
It took Maverick a long couple of hours, even days to fully get his head around the fact he had a daughter.
It wasnât until Carole met her and saw the cheeky little smile that she said, âYup, Pete sheâs yours alright!â
âYes she is.â Audrey added, blowing raspberries into her cheek.
The girls fell in love with Jenny overnight, engulfed by her sweetness but since she was Mavâs kid the girl hated to sleep and very silly. According Iceman she was stubborn like her father but Audrey would say sheâs stubborn like him instead.
When Carole brought the boys to meet their cousin/future best friend, Bradley was taken back by Jenny and Dane was curious rather shy about the ideas.
âMama! Does that mean I have to share a room with her too?â Bradley asked pointed to the girl.
âWhaâ she do?â Dane added, his vocabulary and grammar not very accurate yet.
It was silly, since Dane Bradshaw was close enough be to around less than 2 years older than her but he was curious about the situation, not wanting to share the spotlight with anyone. Same thing when for Bradley, even though he was the oldest.
Carole had to correct them saying, âNo boys, you donât have to share a room with her. And she is just a baby, so she doesnât do much yet. But I think you guys are gonna like her a lot.â
And as always, Carole Bradshaw is correct!
Since Bradley quickly warmed up to Jenny wanting to show her everything and take the girl everywhere he went like the big brother he is to Dane. Especially when Jenny got older he got to joke around, watching over her and and play with her a lot more.
Bradley nicknamed her Jenny Penny.
Dane, since they were somewhat closer in age range per say, the two were pretty close. Dane being softer, very silly toward the girl and more importantly being protective, catching up on new things with things he learned at school and playing with her a lot of the time.
He nicknamed her JenJen.
Eventually the boys would give her the classic nickname and future callsign, JenPen.
But Jenny Mitchell wasnât the one who got nicknames, because to her Bradley was Brad Brad and Dane was Danny Boy.
Even though as the years went on, her nicknames for them changed to Chicken and Engineer.
âââ
Soon enough Baby Goose, Pooh Bear, and Princess had a 4th to complete the group (hopefully)âŚ
âŚDaffy Duck!
Other name being used for Austin Mitchell.
If one Mitchell kid wasnât enough, look no more to a second one! That was another surprise that left Carole, Iceman, Audrey and Maverick himself flabbergasted at the news. But itâs wasnât an total surprise since Maverick was known for being in the dating scene a long time, falling in and out of love with several women because the attraction was a strong thing.
Like a lot things, it never lasted too long ending up in heartbreak, loneliness and confusion, thinking it was a short fling.
But as we learned that every actions has an equal opposite reaction. That resulted in his son, in which he chuckled and sighed in awe of the little smile that entered his world. He fell in love with his kid the moment he met him.
Slider joked, âAlright, either Maverick needs to do something about the love making around here or Goose had an grand olâ conversation about bringing four ducklings with the big man upstairs when he left?!â
Iceman glared at his best friend jokingly, âVery funny, buddy. There is no way Mother Goose had this all figured out and planned for this to happened. It was just fate!â
Maverick shut them both up carrying his son in his arms and said, âOh shut it you two! Before we know it youâre popping out kids of your own.â
Carole smiled, âMy husband wouldnât do such a thing, even if he did I think theses were gifts. Look how cute they are!â
~~~~~
Two blondes and two brunettes, all wrapped into a cute little gift baskets from Mother Goose himself.
âYeah no Sliderâs right, Nicholas Bradshaw brought down four ducking after his departure!â Audrey added a few minutes later.
~~~~~
Austin Mitchell was a spitting imagine and reminder of his father, times 10! From his brownish-green eyes to his nose, even the floppy mess of chocolate brown locks. His smile was no different, giggling about his favorite things and moving around with so much energy that he could become the next marathon runner for godâs sake.
But like any kid here, especially a kid that belongs to Maverick Mitchell, Austin was a clumsy boy knocking into everything and getting himself stuck in troubling situations. It was cute but also kinda annoying.
âA little tornado warning should come with him.â Joked Wraith once he met the boy with a smile.
Nonetheless he was loved. Jenny was only two years old when she got her baby brother, wanting to parenting him and keep the little guy out of danger with a pout. But then again, she was also very clumsy and cheeky herself so they both ended up in a little sticky situation.
Seriously, both kids were found in the kitchen once eating one of their fatherâs favorite sweet treat, being honeybuns, while on the floor giggling.
Iceman snorted so loud seeing his niece and nephew happily eating the dessert that his only questions was, âHow did you two get your hands on it in the first place?â
âUnca Iceee!â Austin only yelled with a little smile and sticky fingers.
âYou wanâ some?â Added Jenny with the similar little smile.
Other times, Austin would be the only one brave enough for certain things, dragging Bradley along to meet new people such as when they met Wraith or Buzz for the first time. Austin scared poor Wraith with his chaotic tendencies meanwhile Buzz laughed his ass off.
Plenty of times, that chaotic charm the young boy naturally held would bring a smile to the faces he meets, like when he met Ark and Hazel. When Austin finished hanging out with Hazel, she wanted to keep this boy for herself.
âŚbut there were some moments where Austinâs shining personality mixed with the wrong crowd.
Letâs just say Ice and Mav enrolled him into little league baseball practice for one week, but midway through that same week the coach had to call Audrey to take the kid back home. Because due to Austinâs style, tiny temper and competitive natureďżź when his team wasnât winning, he decide to use his baseball bat and hit one of the kids from the other team with it.
The kid went as far as to chase the other children around the field in revenge and when Audrey heard that, she couldnât help but laugh out loud. She knew it was a bad thing and they probably had to enroll him into a different sport, but the image in her head of her nephew chasing the other kids around like a Looney Tune character was too funny.
âYup, he was definitely Peteâs son.â She said with a smile, picking up her nephew to take him out for ice cream and a small lecture onto how itâs not nice to hit people.
Letâs just say Audrey wasnât the only one laughing at the news that day about why Austin Mitchell might ďżźnot return to baseball practice that week.
ââââ
Speaking of Austin, since he was hopefully the last baby for now at least, they decided to set up a color coordinated system for the kids.
That meant if gifts were given, certain items were being delivered, and everyday things like cups, hats, sweaters, backpacks, socks and or etc. each child had their own version of one.
Hell, each kid had certain days set on the calendar, where they all had to do something the other wanted. Like park, mall, trips to the beach and or going to the movie theater.
It was Caroleâs idea! So there were no fighting, especially since they were all so little at the time.
Bradleyâs things always had a cherry red dot, cute little red label or red post it note ďżźon them. (Sometimes apple or red-orange color)
Daneâs things always had a sunny yellow dot, little yellow label or yellow post it note on them. (Sometimes bumblebee or yellow-green color)
Jennyâs things always had a rosy pink dot, little pink label or pink post it note on them. (Sometimes lilac or ďżźpink-red color)
Austinâs things always had a sky blue dot, little blue label or blue post it note on them. (Sometimes olive or blue-green color)
And honestly, it was pretty helpful at the time when they were just little kids. Since they knew once they got older, all four of them would pick certain colors to wear, act differently for types of situations and understand the concept of what is not their stuff, donât take.
But of course like any set of children, no matter what you did or how many times you had to lecture them about a topic, they will always fight about something. Like toys, bedding, backpacks, clothes, food and things to do together.
Like when Bradley and Dane were fighting over a certain Star Wars backpack they saw at Walmart to take for back to school time.
Or when Austin and Jenny were arguing about a DC LEGO sets they both wanted to buy, Batman or Superman sets.
They were kids! You canât prepare for everything, so the parents always stepped in making the decision for them or had to settle on a small compromise on whatâs the verdict. ďżźďżź
ââ
Nonetheless, they were good kids thatâs what matters.
Yes, they were all different ages with vastly different views on things and personalities but thatâs what makes them unique.
They care about their children way too much and thanked Goose for sending such a wonderful set of surprises and memories to come.
But the question that the adults tend to have on their minds was, how would the world handle their set of ducklings as they grow up?
What kind of experiences they will have?
Who will fall in love and who will get their heart broken?
Will there be friends or foes that come theyâre way?
So many questions but only time will tellâŚ
âââ
Thank you so much for reading this! đŹ I know, itâs not exactly formatted like my other stories per say but it was an interesting way to introduce theses kids.
What was your favorite part? đ
Please like, share and comment for more stuff like this! âď¸
Tags: @gcthvile @msrochelleromanofffelton @gaminggirlsstuff @topgun-imagines @starkleila @whitewiccan @comfortzonequeen @sherloquestea @theloveoftoms @mandylove1000 @mallowbee4 @rooster-84 @djs8891 @novavida and etc
#top gun maverick au#top gun oc#top gun 1986#top gun fanfiction#goose bradshaw#carole bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#baby goose#pete maverick mitchell#tom iceman kazansky#maverick x daughter!reader#mavdad#icepop#top gun headcanons#iceman x oc#iceman lives#top gun x oc#tom kazansky x oc#pete mitchell x oc#maverick fluff#top gun au#pete mitchell fanfiction#icemav#tgm fic#tgm oc#rooster fanfic#rooster top gun#rooster x oc#bradley bradshaw fanfiction
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Monday 26 November 1832
7 40
12
fine morning F51° at 8 - looking over coal memoranda till after 9 - Mr Jeremiah Rawson came at 9 ½ for about ½ hour - he asked if I would take ��200 per acre said I had had ÂŁ230 bid and had promised not to sell at that price but to have more so set ÂŁ230.10.0  per acre and said I was determined not take less - he said his brother would take him mad to talk of that price - he had only given ÂŁ100 per acre for the coal he had bought in Southowram - but however he would take down the terms of agreement - which I proposed as follows ÂŁ230.10.0 per acre one acre to be paid for per annum by 2 half yearly payments the first of which to be made on signing the deed - 10 years to get the coal in, and if not got in that time, a further term not exceeding 5 years to be allowed - surface measure - to have his answer on Friday - went in to my father and Marian for a little while then breakfast with my aunt at 10 ½ having just had a note from Mr. Mitchell saying that Mr. Carr valued the Godley estate 20D.W. at 1/. per yard ÂŁ3136. new barn 20x9 yards high 7 yards ÂŁ200 Building 12x12 two stores ÂŁ250 = ÂŁ3586.  Mitchellsâ valuation is ÂŁ70 per annum at 30 years purchase âand that is small interest and a great rent ÂŁ2100.  Carr proposes selling the land except the croft and the buildings but if he sells the whole the above princes he wishes â you see what he wants for the estimate is ÂŁ1486 more than it is worth â shall recommend you to let it alone, as it appears he will not sell it at present without he can sell it you too dear â I am of opinion that he has no customer and if he has no one will give more than the sum I have mentioned â N.B. He pressed me to let him know immediatelyâ â I certainly shall not give Carrsâ price â said not a word of Godley to my father and Marian -
 SH:7/ML/E/15/0155
talked it over to my aunt and came to my room at 11 â wrote the above of today and the following to Mr. Mitchell âShibden hall â Monday 26 November 1832. Sir â Mr. Carrsâ price is out of the question, and I shall certainly take your advice â but I shall be obliged to you to let him know that I will give your valuation ÂŁ2400. and if he agrees to this, and chooses to give me ÂŁ60 a year for the land, and ÂŁ5 a year for the buildings, he may take all as it stands, and occupy the whole under the same sort of written agreement as that under which he now occupies the land I have already purchased I am, sir, etc. etc. etc.â â wrote the above note to âMr. Mitchell Landvaluer Cowmarket H-xâ â and went out at 12 40 having washed etc.  very little cousin Saturday and last night and yesterday but more and pretty well today â with Pickles and his son John stubbing the hedge between the 2 brook Ings and planting hazels on the old pit hill at the bottom of my walk â John Booth planted thorns under the great high Godley wall in James Smithsâ far brow â William Green carted hazels and the 2 thorns into Charles H-âs acrefield â came in at 5 50 â changed my things â dinner at 6 ½ - afterwards read from p. 151. to 228. end of Gilpin of Landscape gardening â then wrote 3 pages to âDr Belcombe, Minster Yard, Yorkâ over which I could not help laughing - hardly to know what to say but in general terms, there was certainly amendment - really think his medicines have done good - are we to go on with the same medicines without interval - or stop a while and then begin again - or can he make any little change - âthe mind is worse than the body and, in this respect, I confess, I found a nervous young lady much more difficult to manage than I expected - we have relapses which I can neither understand, nor guard against - there is some guiding trouble in the heart - some aching void (if voids can ache) or something or other, that neither medicine, nor I can reach - tell him to direct his next letter to me at Shibden - mention the rumbling in the bowels of Friday and Saturday at the request of the maiden gentle woman staying with Miss W- I feared it arose from something that affected her spirits - was right, and never seemed wiser in my life the more I see of nervous case  the more I shall be able to appreciate the excellence of your manner and questions and obs[ervations]  and humbug in York    my love to your wife and the rest  vale valeque [be well and strong] very truly yours AL - mention that her friends and she herself think her lung delicate and that I have said how clever Steph is in using the stethoscope - had written my letter and so far of today at 10 Âź at which hour my aunt came to me in the drawing room to wish goodnight â came up to my room at 10 20 â fine November day â neither so hazy or so damp ever as yesterday â F50 ½° now at 10 ž p.m. â just before getting into bed wrote another sort of note to Mr. Mitchell
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Helen Louise (Wheeler) Riddle was a founding member of the #SigmaChapter of the #AlphaKappaAlpha at #UniversityOfSouthernCalifornia (1922), & FIRST Black Woman to graduate from #USCLawSchool (1927). She married #JohnThomasRiddle, a USC graduate and #USCFootball player. Group photograph of about 125 members of the #AlphaKappaAlphaSororityInc in the courtyard behind Kerckhoff Hall at #UCLA. Helen Louise Riddle is standing in the next to last row within the center arch, centered between the ladies who are 3rd and 4th from the right in the last row under the center arch representing the #SigmaChapterAKAs. A flower-covered sign reads: "#Boule1932." Naida McCullough was a school teacher in Los Angeles, and a charter member of the University of Southern California Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority. She served as president for the USC branch. In 1925 she also was a temporary #FarWesternRegionalDirector and she established the #AlphaGamma Chapter at #UCLA. She was a well-known concert pianist and art patron. Corine Stovall was a member of the Stovall family of Los Angeles, and was active with events for the Stovall Foundation. She was active in clubs and events aimed at community uplift, often called the African American clubwomenâs movement.. Hortense Taylor was a member of the Los Angeles branch of Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority. She was active in clubs and events. Dr. Alice Watkins Garrott was a dentist who married dentist. Dr. Alva Curtis Garrott. Top row from left: Corine Stovall, Ph.G., Minnie Mitchell Wickliffe, Ph. B., Vada Somerville, D.D.S., Alice Garrott, D.D.S., La Verne Martin, Junior Liberal Arts. Bottom row from left: Hortense Taylor, Junior Liberal Arts; Grace Broyles, A.B.; Helen Wheeler, Junior Law; Naida McCullough, Grad. Music; Hazel Baskins, Senior Liberal Arts; Edith A. Jones, A.B. #AKAExcellence #AKAHistoryIsBlackHistory #AKA1908 https://www.instagram.com/p/CoNuLQ1Pjzc/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#sigmachapter#alphakappaalpha#universityofsoutherncalifornia#usclawschool#johnthomasriddle#uscfootball#alphakappaalphasororityinc#ucla#sigmachapterakas#boule1932#farwesternregionaldirector#alphagamma#akaexcellence#akahistoryisblackhistory#aka1908
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â⌠⪠âŚâ TimothĂŠe Chalamet - Concerto â⌠⪠âŚâ
A/N - I wrote and posted this almost a year ago on my Wattpad. My writing has evolved a lot since then, but Iâm still proud of this piece, and hope you enjoy it. I do not know Tim, nor do I claim to in any way. This is a work of fiction and entirely my own.Â
Warnings - smut. Detailed (but protected and consensual) sex, slight BDSM, overstimulation. Cursing. Legal alcohol consumption and smoking. Also 10k words of sickening fluff though, even the smut is fluffy.
Summary - At a classical music concert, the last person you expect to meet is a young man as charming and suave as TimothĂŠe. And the last thing you expected is for him to invite you back to his flat. Turns out music really is food for the soul, and other things...
ITâS A FRIDAY EVENING IN NEW YORK CITY. The sun is setting behind the towering silhouettes of undulating buildings all across the city, the moon casting shadows all around au contraire to the luminescence of building lights, beaming all around as well as the street lamps, bringing colour and light to peopleâs faces in the dark.
Youâre standing on the pavement outside Symphony Space Concert Hall on the Upper West Side, people watching. Nothing more or less conspicuous, just observing everyone flooding into the hall, though none of them seem to be under 50 years of age. After checking the time, you take your phone out of the pocket attached to your delicate silk jumpsuit youâre wearing for the night, the one reserved for classy parties and sophisticated concerts only (though very handy). You open the email holding your ticket for the evening, a Poulenc appreciation concert, and you show it to the bouncer who grants you entry to the auditorium.
The room looks incredible. Photos of Francis Poulenc, as well as some old parchment sheets of his music spread out delicately over the usually bare walls. The lights create a perfect ambience in the hall for what's sure to be an incredible evening. The red velvet seats are half full, dotted with people at least twice your age, except from one seat near the front where you can see merely a defined jaw and brown curls. On the stage stands two glossy black grand pianos, slotted beside one another with plush velvet stools and their lids propped up, allowing one to see the inner workings of such wonderful instruments. Behind the pianos are seats enough for an entire orchestra, creating a crescent moon shape. A couple of the seats already have instruments atop them, aching for their owners to play beautiful melodies with them. You make your way down to where your seat is, familiar with the layout of the auditorium. Youâre on the right hand side of the centre stalls, third row back, but as you arrive, thereâs a boy you saw earlier, not much older than yourself.
âHi, do you mind if I squeeze past?â You ask him, watching his head jolt up from the programme to reveal a mop of beautiful dark brown curls framing his chiselled face, piercing green eyes with flecks of hazel when the light changed direction. You recognise him, an actor, you simply canât place him.
His look of incredulity melts into a smile. âSure.â He says, moving his legs so that you can squeeze past and take your reserved seat on his left. He turns to face you, smiling. Heâs wearing a crisp navy suit with a pale blue shirt and a matching tie. He looks well presented, and by his nervous and lopsided smile, you guess that heâs rather nervous to be at the concert alone too. âTimothĂŠe.â He tells you, holding his hand out.
You return his gesture, smiling right back at him, and tell him your name. âYou here alone?â You ask him, turning in your seat to get a better view. He nods.
âThought Iâd be the only under fifty here.â He laughs, âIâm 24 by the way, but I shanât ask your name since you're a lady.â You can't help but laugh at this, just a little giggle at how sweet he is, but your interaction is cut short as the lights turn down in the auditorium but shine brighter on the stage, and a full orchestra enters the stage, accompanied by their instruments, two pianists and a conductor. Murmurs in the hall settle down to a faint hum while the musicians tune to the sound of the oboe, and then begin to play.
The music is mesmerising, starting with orchestral pieces with faint piano accompaniment, then just a nocturne for piano, split between the two lead pianists. You could listen to it all night, but an interval has to come. As the lights slowly turn back up, you see an infantile smile on TimothĂŠeâs face, as though heâs just watched the most excellent thing in the world.
âCome on,â you say to him, smiling sadly while you tap his knee, âletâs get a drink.â
He reluctantly stands up to follow you out of the auditorium and to the small bar area. You order two margaritaâs without consulting him, but he seems grateful as you sit beside each other on a high table, people watching once again.
âWhat's your job then?â He asks you, making small talk.
âIâm a piano major at Juilliard, teaching piano on the side though.â You respond, and he seems really taken aback. His jaw falls a little slack while his eyes bulge a tad.
âWow, you must be excellent!â You blush a little at his words, elegantly taking a sip from your drink while he eyes you carefully. You feel awkward under his gaze, though flattered nonetheless. Heâs gorgeous, and heâs complimenting you and accepting drinks from you, what a night.
âWhat about you?â You inquire. He's an actor, you know that, but asking means that you may be able to get some more context and maybe itâll click where youâve seen him before. He clears his throat, and you can see some older people walking by who pull faces, judging the pair of you, but you brush them off.
âIâm an actor, mainly small films though.â He says, remaining vague. You donât push much more, realising that he probably likes not being fawned all over for once, so you simply ask of the favourite names heâs had the honour of working alongside, which must be an uncommonly asked question because a light flickers behind his eyes.
âSelena Gomez, Steve Carell, Armie Hammer, Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, Robert Pattinson, Maia MitchellâŚâ He begins to list, but only when he mentions Maia does it click. You aren't huge into films, but you have seen him in a film with Maia Mitchell and Maika Monroe a few years ago.
âHot summer nights, right? You were in that?â His cheeks turn a magnificent crimson and he bows his head as though embarrassed. He mumbles something along the lines of ânot my best performanceâ, but you disagree. âI think you were wonderful, and did you mention Armie Hammer?â He nods again, seeming a little brighter. You take another sip from your drink, and he follows suit, watching your poised movements.
âCall Me By Your Name.â You nod in recognition, you remember watching the film when it first came out and loving the music from it.
âYouâre excellent you know, at piano I mean, and the intimate scenes arenât half bad either, you make them better.â You say with a teasing smirk on your painted lips, making TimothĂŠeâs eyes widen again. You chuckle and grasp his hand, dragging him into the auditorium for the second half.
The second half is a whole concerto, Poulencâs Concerto For Two Pianos And Orchestra. Ten minutes in, TimothĂŠeâs hand finds your thigh and seems very comfortable, so comfortable in fact that you don't dare move it. As the concerto flows further on, his hand slides further up your clothed leg and squeezes your upper thigh a little You tense under his touch, infatuation and lust filling every cell and exiting through your pores, just waiting for more passion to fill your body and make you drunk on the feeling.
When finally the concert ends, both of you stand to applaud the musicians for a solid few minutes, and you could swear you see a tear leaving TimothĂŠeâs mysterious eyes and rolling down his heavenly made, painfully defined cheekbones. While you clap, you surreptitiously edge closer together, millimetre by millimetre until youâre hip to hip with elbows nudging. Your head comes up to his chin, making you feel a little small, but youâll feel even smaller once your heels come off. Once the majority of the audience have filed out, you grasp his hand and pull him through the crowds where you stand on the corner of the pavement, only metres from the venue. Youâre reluctant to loosen your grip on his slim hand, as he is with yours.
âCigarette?â He offers, holding a half full box out to you. You half smile and shake your head in refusal.
âI donât mind if you do though.â You say, meeting his gaze. âI love the taste of smoke when I kiss someone.â You add in a whisper, leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He goes rigid, making you smirk to yourself. This is going to be a good night.
He lights his cigarette and takes slow drag, only looking away to blow the smoke in an opposite direction to you. How respectful, you think, as your stomach fills with butterflies and bubbles with anticipation. He puts it out on top of a bin and throws it away without littering, and just that small and helpful gesture makes you crave his touch, having his fingers trace your sweaty skin and making your body tingle, your back arch with desire and pleasure.
âWanna get a drink?â You ask, pointing to a nice bar across the road. Youâre desperate to sleep with him, but not without pleasantries first. He, however, shakes his head and intricately entwines his fingers with yours.
âIâll do you one better than a drink.â His smirk sets off a different kind of longing in you, forcing your body to follow him wherever he takes you.
As you walk, he starts conversation, but youâre so breathless from the desperation speed walking that your answers are brief. He asks you why you attended the concert, only to remember that youâre a music student and piano teacher; so in turn, you ask him the same question.
âWhen I was doing Call Me By Your Name, I had to learn the piano, and while I was learning classical pieces, I kind of just fell in love with classical piano music, I donât know.â
His nervousness is sweet, making him appear far more humble than anyone of his stature would usually be.
You get to his building after a twenty minute dash in heels, and he pulls you flush against him while entering through the revolving doors, allowing you to lay your weight on him for a moment while you gather your breath. You feel his heartbeat thudding and racing against his ribs, reverberating against your own chest. You turn around to face him and place your hand on his chest.
âBreathe.â You say to him, allowing him to release a long held breathy chuckle. You leave the doors, both laughing, and fervently press the buttons to wait upon a lift. âSo,â You then continue, breaking the silence where only your breaths were heard. âFavourite piano piece from the Call Me By Your Name soundtrack?â
âHallelujah Junction!â You both answer at the same time, just as the lift doors open. You fall into the lift in a fit of giggles, clinging onto each other. You find yourself with your back pressed against the cold metal handle bar in the elevator with TimothĂŠeâs face inches away from your own. Your breath mingles together. As soon as he presses the button to his floor, he nudges his nose with your own.
âGod, you're so beautiful.â he says seconds before his mouth is pressed hotly against your own, kissing you with an unrivalled passion. Your lips mould and move together like itâs second nature. His one hand holds your waist while both of yours grip his face, feeling a slight stubble.
The lift dings and he drags you out, unlocking his apartment door and leading you inside.
âWelcome to Casa del Timmy.â he says while hugging you from behind, allowing you to get a full view.
His apartment is stunning. Sleek, yet also vintage. Your eyes follow across the perimeter through a door to the left, where he has an office area containing a sleek white desk with a mac and a stack of papers and pens, next to it is a vintage white bookcase stacked as high as possible with novels of all shapes and sizes, and even an indie style rug underneath a colourful modern dining set..
The door next to the office is a kitchen, white countertops with wooden cupboards and a beautiful view of the city out of the window. To the right is a set of glass doors that open onto a small balcony where you can see the whole city, even Manhattan and Brooklyn depending which way you look and how the moon beams down. Thereâs a closed door right in front of you and through the entry hall and living room which you assume is his bedroom held behind a golden doorknob.
His living room, where you remain standing, holds an array of house plants with a couple of very comfortable looking plush sofas, his TV stand as well as his coffee table look like polished vintage items, refurbished from a flea market maybe, while his book shelf and rug are grand and modern. The best part of all though is a grand piano in an oak wood, matching the wood from his television table, and you become instantly entranced by the instrument that you donât even notice the velvet stool or the perfectly organised cabinet of music, with a guitar propped up against it.
âWow.â You breathe. TimothĂŠe grips you tighter, trailing kisses across your shoulder and up the side of your neck, inhaling every few seconds to treasure the scent of your perfume. Gardenia, rose champagne, grapefruit, davana; heavenly. You grip his hands with your own, holding them tightly where theyâre settled on your tummy. You roll your head against his shoulder to give him better access to kiss you, but he stops abruptly and leads you to the piano stool. He opens the cabinet and pulls out a well loved piece of music.
âI know itâs for two pianos, but let's have some fun.â He says, grinning at you, an infectious smile that you canât help but return. Hallelujah Junction, first movement. He puts the music out on the piano and takes a seat beside you, your thighs touching and hands overlapping as they begin to glide over the keys.
Playing this piece is second nature to you, allowing you to find your way easily, slipping your fingers between TimothĂŠeâs, and the white and black keys. You begin a harmonious melody spanning the whole of the piano, but after only a couple of pages, you realise that its not working as your notes cross over, making it very difficult to play on just one piano. You laugh together, but only for a moment before he is trailing his tongue up your neck, then your lips, and delving inside your mouth. You gasp, moaning into the passionate kiss that heâs giving you, and within seconds you find yourself straddling his lap on the piano stool. You trap his thighs between yours, moving and grinding your hips a little against his to receive more friction where you can feel how needy he is.
Within seconds, he has your legs wrapped around his waist and his teeth on your clavicle. The pleasure makes sounds escape your lips that you didnât even realise were possible. You knot your ankles as he stands up with one hand around your waist and the other feeling his way around his apartment. After a few funny missteps and close calls of him dropping you while only walking the expanse of his living room, he pins you against his bedroom door, finding your lips again
He gently pokes at your dusty pink bottom lip with his tongue, slipping his tongue back into your mouth, exploring avidly and devouring every taste of you that he can muster. You do the same, but become too infatuated by his taste to put much more passion into it: gin, mint, bergamot and smoke. Smoke, sugar and sin, the most deadly combination of them all, and that's all you can smell on him, making you moan even louder. An erotic moan that makes TimothĂŠe twist open the handle to his bedroom door as quickly as is humanly possible.
He as good as throws you onto the bed, but undeniably, it turns you on a lot to see his dominant side this early on into the evening. He doesn't seem like the type to pin you down and boss you around, but as he shuts his bedroom door and delicately takes off his probably very expensive shoes, you can see a glint in his eye, almost as if heâs planning on doing unspeakably pleasurable things to you. Just the thought makes you wetter than before.
As he locks the door and shuts his shoes away, you take a quick look around the room. His bed is nice, comfortable and exquisitely large, like other things you hope. He has a nice colourful throw, vintage looking pillows to match his nightstand, holding only a pillbox, a glass of water, hand sanitiser, and a box of tissues. The simplicity makes you want to laugh, but you restrain yourself. He has a big dresser to match his bedside table with the drawers a little skewwhiff and clothes poking out. His wardrobe is fitted to the wall and by the looks of it, surprisingly neat too. That much cannot be said for his sofa though. A plush, light grey sofa sits on one side of his room just away from the window, and it's covered with clothes. At least he made the bed though, that's more than you can say for most 20-odd year old mans rooms that youâve been into.
He sheds his blazer and crawls up to where he left you on the bed, needy and craving more. He looks down at you with desperation in his eyes, and you canât help but to attack his lips, threading one hand in his beautiful dark curls while the other nimbly pulls open his tie and undoes his shirt. You shrug it off his shoulders and run your nails up and down his spine. You feel him shiver beneath his touch while your hands travel all over his body. His shoulders, his biceps, his toned stomach; heâs skinny, but has enough substance to him to be strong and sexy as hell.
âYouâll kill me if you stop.â He whispers, followed by a string of breathy curses. His eyes roll into the back of his head, giving you ample opportunity to grasp his shoulders and slip the pair of you over, pinning him beneath you. His eyes flit all over your face before kissing you again.
âYou are so freaking beautiful.â He mumbles between kisses. He slips his hands up to find the zip of your jumpsuit which he slides down crazily fast, only breaking the kiss to shrug it off your shoulders. He just lies in awe, noticing that you donât have a bra on beneath it. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he examines every undulation of your body, following the swell of your breasts right down to your hips. Your nerves return under his scrutiny, making you want to hide your face, but instead he holds your wrists behind you.
âYou never have to cover up,â he says, nothing more or less than genuine love in his eyes, ânot for me.â
Despite only meeting him hours ago, you know that you can trust him, so you ungracefully clamber off his lap and lie on your back to shimmy off your burden of a jumpsuit. He practically leaps at the opportunity to worship your body, before him in only your panties. He starts at your ankle, placing feather light kisses all the way from your ankle, up your leg, not minding the slight harshness of your legs, and only stops at your knee joint to switch his lips to his tongue, licking a straight line all the way up your inner thigh, stopping centimetres from where you need him the most. Not through any of this ritual does he break eye contact though. He skips over your panties and only pulls them down a little to trail kisses from your pelvic bone, up past your navel, through the valley of your breasts, and finally back to your lips. He makes you feel things that you could only dream of before meeting him.
âTimothĂŠeâŚâ you breathe, hearing his breath hitch in his throat at the way your tongue curls around his name.
You reach between the two of you to his trousers. You undo the belt buckle with ease and push his trousers off his hips and down his thin legs, allowing him to kick them off at the bottom. He seems embarrassed, wearing Y-fronts that make more visible just how much he wants you.
âHow about we strip together?â You offer, and TimothĂŠe reluctantly nods. He pushes himself off of you and stands up, giving you a hand to stand up as well. He still hasnât taken his eyes off you since the moment you left the concert hall. â3, 2, 1âŚâ
You both remove your underwear, pushing them down your legs and stepping out of them, only to step closer together so that your chests are flush against one another. He moves his hand up to cup your face, brushing your hair away from your face while tilting your chin up, capturing your lips in a lustful yet also sensual kiss.
He nudges you and your legs hit the bed, making you topple over and break the kiss from a giggle, but he doesnât seem to mind and only laughs with you, moving your body further onto the mattress. He doesn't go to you again, he just lies beside you and dances his fingers absently down your pubic bone, ghosting circles around your clit.
âJesus Christ.â You exclaim at the sudden feeling. TimothĂŠe kisses your jawline, but adds in between kisses, âLess of that, darling, Iâm Jewish.â
You canât help but laugh at him. You know heâs joking, just trying to mess with you, but as a punishment for laughing, he thrusts two fingers inside you with no warning, making you cry out in a mixture of both pain and overwhelming pleasure.
He pumps his fingers in and out of you, never going deeper than the second knuckle even when you cry out for more. Only when your moans turn to gasps for breath and youâre writhing beneath him does he delve in further and add his thumb to your clit, giving you a more intense orgasm than youâve ever had before.
You immediately feel blood rushing back to your cheeks, colouring them from embarrassment, but TimothĂŠe doesnât mind. He removes his hand from your core, and makes sure your eyes are fixated on his every movement as he licks his hand clean of all your cum. Youâre so turned on that you even reach for his own hand, interlacing all your fingers except for his index one, of which he takes the hint and slips it into your open mouth, allowing your tongue to curl around it, making him groan.
He slips further down the bed and locks his eyes onto yours, you can see different shades of green and hazel in them and a whole world locked behind those beautiful eyes. Slowly, he delves into your heat, licking up everything that his hands missed. His mouth works wonders, sending your mind into a state of mild euphoria. The tip of his nose nudges your clit and you can feel yourself involuntarily gasp, so when TimothĂŠe finishes savouring every taste of you that he can get, he harshly bites your sensitive clit for just a moment, stimulating parts of your mind and body that you didnât know could feel pleasure, let alone pleasure that intense.
He comes back up and kisses your lips, planting his hands in your hair as you kiss him back and get lost in the moment, your tongues dance together in an exploration, an experimentation of passion.
You pull away after a minute or so, gasping for air. TimothĂŠe examines your face for a moment, and you find yourself once again losing your thoughts and sanity in his eyes, until you feel the tip of his throbbing cock brush against your bare thigh. You feel bad for how much heâs been neglecting his own levels of desire in order to pleasure you, so you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. He takes a sharp intake of breath and flutters his eyes closed, his long dark eyelashes twitching alongside his eyelids whenever you grasp harder or pump him.
Heâs surprisingly big, causing you to take longer while rubbing your hand up and down his member. Half way down one thrust, you squeeze his cock a little, hearing him whimper a little. The mere sound of him drowns your core in want. You edge your way down the bed and swallow as much of his dick as you can take until his tip hits the back of your throat. He lets out the most sensual guttural groan that youâve ever heard, his eyes still closed while placing his hand on the back of your head to keep you steady. You bring your head back up to look at him while your tongue swirls his tip, his mouth is parted a little with breathy moans of your name escaping every once in a while, his eyelids switching from being lazily half open to squeezed so tightly shut that they wrinkle a little.
You go back down slowly, inch by inch, hollowing your cheeks. You work your hand in the part of him that wonât fit in your mouth and continue to bob your head up and down. You lick a strip up a vein on the underside of his dick, making him near enough scream your name. With one final bob of your head where you deep throat him, you pull away with plump lips, climbing up his body to straddle his waist. He looks up at you with wide and loving eyes, pulling you down for a sensual kiss.
âAre you clean?â He asks breathlessly, kissing down the hickeys that heâs already littered your skin with.
âYeah, i got tested after my last break up a few months ago, and I havenât been with anyone since. Is that because I justâŚâ He nods and you laugh a little, the vibrations from his chuckle rumble throughout your body.
âI did the same, but Iâll stillâŚâ You get what heâs saying and climb off him. He flings open the top drawer of his bedside table and after a minute or so of rooting through it he pulls out a condom packet and places it next to his glass of water. You give him a questioning look with your brows knitted together, but TimothĂŠe just smiles at you. He slips one slim arm beneath your back and the other under your knee joint before scooping you up and holding you close to his chest.
âWell hey there TimothĂŠe.â You say with a chuckle, secretly astonished at how strong he is, because with one arm still holding you, he throws away the decorative pillows and pulls the duvet back, throwing you onto the mattress and leaping on top of you. You smile into his kiss, savouring every second of the feel of his lips pressed hotly against your own, the taste of smoke driving you crazy.
He pulls away and sits up, tearing open the condom packet and grasping his hand sanitiser. He flicks the lid open and squeezes it liberally onto his hands before applying it and rubbing it into yours. âAre you sure?â He asks you, and your urgent kiss to his jawline is followed by a string of fervent reassurances that you are desperate to have him inside you, though you respect that he wants consent and that he wants to be clean. He slips the condom on, his eyes trained on your lips and the way they part from wanting every few seconds. Heâs enjoying torturing you and making you wait, the same way that you edged him but denied him orgasm.
He slips the condom on and slowly enters in one smooth stroke. You gasp at the contact, especially how deep he goes with the first thrust, so deep that his pubic bone hits your own. He reaches for the duvet and he pulls it up over his shoulders, covering the pair of you since he can see that youâre shivering a little in the open. He looks for reassurance, but then begins to thrust inside you, holding his weight above you. You can see his biceps tensing while trying to hold his weight up and keep a steady rhythm.
âHow about we spice this up?â He suggests, a sly smirk playing on his lips. He cocks an eyebrow, and the sun hits his face at an angelic angle, only making him more beautiful. You nod eagerly to him, only making his smirk grow wider.
âYes Mr TimothĂŠe,â you say, triggering a dominant smirk to relight behind those stunning eyes.
âThat's Mr Chalamet to you tonight, Miss.â Words cannot even explain how wet he makes you by saying that, already making your mind want to submit to his every want. You let out a whimper and remove your hands from his hips to lay above your head on the pillows. He joins his fingers around your wrist and proceeds to lay his slender hand flat against your wrists, preventing you from moving.
âIs this okay?â He asks, his movements coming to a halt. You nod and kiss him again. âIâm sorry, what was that?â
He must really enjoy what heâs doing to you. âYes Mr Chalamet.â You reply, making your eyes as doe like and innocent as possible.
TimothĂŠeâs thrusts restart, faster this time. You moan louder, ecstasy filling every inch of your spent body before youâve even properly begun. His moans are lower, more like groans, all of your name. It sounds heavenly coming from his lips, the way his mouth moves when he says your name just makes it better. His hips hit yours with vigour, adjusting to get a better position where he hits the best spot inside of you.
âThere TimothĂŠe!â You scream desperately, your back arching on the mattress while your hands fight to break free. Submitting isnât as easy as you hoped.
âIâm close.â He warns you and frees your wrists, but he doesnât let your hand go too far. He interlocks his fingers with yours, using one elbow to prop himself up. His thrusts turn sloppy, more fervent, and just as heâs finishing, he digs his thumb into your clit.
Your entire body turns limp, screaming his name in a state of complete euphoria like youâve never felt before. It travels from your brain to the tips of your fingers, setting a fire in your belly and making your toes curl. Your back arches so far off the bed that your chest becomes pressed against TimothĂŠeâs, your breasts moving in time with his breathing. You feel him come to his own climax, silencing his screams by kissing you with more passion than he has before.
You ride out your highs, but the level of pleasure illuminating every nerve ending in your body means that you donât notice TimothĂŠe pulling out and disposing of the condom, you only notice when he flops down beside you on the bed and pulls you closer to his slightly sweaty body. You rest your head on his chest that seems to be glowing in the moonlight from the sheen of sweat. He absently plaits your hair, staring off into the distance. The faint thudding of his heart within his ribs comforts you, it's a little faster than would be normal, making you smile a little.
âHow was that?â His hand grips around your shoulder even tighter, pulling you closer to his body. He seems content in simply holding you, maybe he just enjoys cuddling. âWait, donât answer that.â He corrects himself, his pupils dilating and his excellent, angelic body going rigid. You chuckle to yourself, drawing circles on his chest with the pad of your forefinger,
âExcellent, Mr Chalamet.â You tease him.
âI wasnât too rough, was I?â He looks fearful, fretting, it's evident in the sudden sulk of his face, pulling his cheeks and forehead down. You shake your head again, slowly but surely moving your leg to lie over his. Ye inclines his neck to place a gentle kiss to our hairline, and you can feel him smile into it.
âTimothĂŠe?â
âYes beautiful?â Just his simple words make you giggle and blush, such a sweet sentiment from a gorgeous and well meaning man.
âIâm hungry.â You say, feeling slightly embarrassed. He laughs, you feel his body move from it, and he proceeds to pepper your face with the softest and sweetest kisses possible.
âIâll make us some food, grab any shirt you want and meet me in the kitchen.â
You watch him pull on a pair of grey sweat pants and walk out. His pale hips sway just a little as he walks, and he looks so lanky from where youâre laying on his bed, the covers pulled up around your chest. He kissed your forehead before heading to the kitchen, what kind of a man does that on the first night? Heâs a famous actor and the most gorgeous man youâve ever seen, let alone a couple of years above yourself. He really knows how to please a girl, your skin rises in tiny goosebumps of pleasure while a shiver shoots down your spine and leaps across your synapses just at the mere thought of what he did to you, by far the best climax youâve ever had.
You slowly slide out from under his warm, plush covers that smell just like him, only leaving with severe reluctance that melts away as soon as you shrug on the pale blue button down that he wore for the concert. Only a few hours ago youâd met at a concert for old people, already having a common interest that few your age have, yet heâs so eager about classical piano which is so special to you. You fiddle with the buttons, leaving the top few open in hopes of another round - he is making you an almost-midnight feast after all.
You walk out of his room and pad barefoot across his living room floor, only to have a little grey cat come and rub at your feet. You lean down to tickle behind its ears, hearing it meow, and you continue your way too where TimothĂŠe has left the kitchen door open for you. Heâs standing over the stove with some ingredients laid out on the spotlessly clean countertops. You smile in spite of yourself, running a hand through your messy hair before wrapping your arms around his torso from behind. You place a couple of kisses to his shoulder blades until he turns around and picks you up in one swift movement, sitting you on the counter so that you meet his height.
âIt looks better on you.â He whispers, pulling you closer by your bare thighs to plant a kiss on your lips. Heâs making you feel things youâve never experienced before, you canât wipe the smile off your face for the first time in a while, and he's making you food in the middle of the night after cuddling you.
Dreamboat.
After watching him cook for a while, you slip out of his kitchen and take a seat at his piano. You run your fingers over the smooth wood, itâs well loved but well kept. Then you take a seat on the stool. You can feel where TimothĂŠe sits to play, your smile turning a little sad. Thereâs so much to him that people wonât see because heâs getting famous, but heâs still a person and thatâs something that youâre able to experience first-hand.
Eyes closed, you feel for F and Ab with both of your hands. You press the keys down gently, creating the soft blend of notes that is Clair De Lune. You fall lost in the music in a new way, a new feeling washing you with all of tonight's new sensations and sitting at a piano that is neither your own nor at school, it feels somewhat ethereal.
Your fingers glide all across the keys, black to white, flats to sharps, switching between octaves like its second nature. Your mind dances along with the rhythm, your whole mind, soul and being becoming lost in the symphony that youâre creating, one that you havenât been able to create for a while, and itâs only thanks to TimothĂŠe.
You become so absorbed in playing that you donât notice him leaving the kitchen to listen. He just stands in the doorway, leaning against it with his head lolled a little to the side, completely mesmerised by your movements, your music, and just everything you are. Only when you play the final notes are you alerted of his presence from the creaking of the floorboards beneath his feet. He walks over to you with purpose, a slight grimace on his perfect lips, but he just hugs you. TimothĂŠe just holds you close to his chest, allowing you to entwine your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face in his bare chest.
âStay the night?â He asks, such a simple request but he truly does seem anxious. You want to be genuine, kind, but itâll be best to relieve the tension.
âYouâre making me a late night post-sex feast and giving me your shirt, of course Iâm staying the night.â After a moment of silence, he exhales a laugh and node, brushing a curl or two into his face. âAnyway, your cat likes me too, so itâd be a shame to disappoint the little cutie.â
After only a few minutes, you find yourself back in bed with TimothĂŠe. Heâs carrying a tray full of food that looks and smells gorgeous, followed by his cat who decides to dance between his legs. He serves you a strangely shaped piece of an odd looking pizza, though it still looks excellent, and it has some perfectly cooked and seasoned vegetables next to it on a white plate.
âWhat is this?â You ask him as kindly as possible.
âFlammekueche with some vegetables. Itâs a French pizza with crème fraiche and bacon. My dad makes it all the time and always gives me some that I just freeze and reheat. I can only make microwave meals and vegetables, so this isnât bad for me.â The way he explains it makes him so endearing, and even makes the food seem more than enticing. âYouâre not allergic to anything are you? Or vegetarian?â You shake your head with a smile, kissing him and thanking him for the meal even though he wonât let you touch it before you sanitise your hands.
You talk the whole while that you eat, learning little things about his favourite books and his family. His favourite book just happens to be Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald, a book you both know and love, and Timothee has a Jewish mother, a French father, an older sister, and he grew up in the city. You however are from out of the city with an exceptionally normal family, and your favourite book is Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. He seems to be growing fond of you, wiping the pizza sauce from your lip, followed by a kiss each time.
He places your plates on the floor as soon as you finish, snatching at the speed of light for some hand sanitiser, lube and another condom. You more than happily oblige with all of his steps and strip off his shirt, kissing the living daylights out of him before heâs even slotted the condom on. He kisses you back with equal fervour nonetheless, exploring your whole mouth with the tip of his tongue. He cautiously adds some lube to the sides of the condom and slips into you while youâre still atop him. You moan at the penetration, arching your body forwards and hereby giving TimothĂŠe a full view of your breasts and the way they bounce with his every thrust inside you.
You moan pornographically at his slow and passionate movements upwards and deep inside you, finding your special spot within moments. He settles his hands upon your hips, squeezing them and guiding your every movement. You ride him just the way he wants you to, you can see it in his eyes. He looks at you like a teenage boy would at a naked supermodel, of which you are only naked and most definitely not a supermodel, despite him treating you like one, and TimothĂŠe is thankfully older than a teenage boy yearning for sex.
âYou look so fucking brilliant.â He tells you, admiring the way that your face contorts with pleasure while taking every inch of him.
You rhythmically grind your hips against him, swirling them occasionally just to hear him cry out. Nothing is a hinderance from you going faster, but this sex isnât needing to be urgent to be satisfying. He squeezes your hips harder and you decides to move up a little further, bouncing back down on him as he becomes buried to the hilt in your desperate core. You do it again, engulfing him anew and moaning his name continually from the mix of friction and pleasure thatâs sending you into another euphoria, but not enough to release again just yet.
TimothĂŠe still hasnât taken his eyes off you, namely your breasts where heâs currently focussed, eyes trained on your hardened nipples - partly from not wearing a shirt and partly from TimothĂŠeâs ministrations. He leans up and captures your left nipple in his mouth, sucking and kissing and swirling his tongue around you in the most divine way possible. He moves his hands away from your hips too, allowing you to grind your hips on his in any way that you like. His one hand moves to your other breast, tweaking and pulling at your right peak and sending sensations through your body that youâd never realised could be real before; while his other slips to the rounds of your ass, squeezing delectably.
âMr Chalamet, p-please,â you find yourself begging, leaning down while still riding him, his torture on your breasts never ceasing, not even when he thrusts his hips up one final time, allowing your core to devour him whole and sending you into your third otherworldly climax of the night.
âTimothĂŠe!â You scream, your climax pouring out of you. You feel him come too, and you hear him cry out your name like a blessing.
He doesnât pressure you, he just waits until youâre able to clamber off him with as minimal pain and exhaustion as possible, though you do whine at the loss of contact as you lie beside him, his arms securely around you and holding you as close to him as possible. It doesnât matter that youâre both sweaty or spent, it just feels special.
âLook at that, done before 1am.â He chides, cuddling into you. You laugh a little at him, especially his humour, but it is rather remarkable.
âTwo rounds, a meal, and a concert. Canât speak for you, but Iâm knackered.â He smiles at you sleepily, passing you the shirt that you wore earlier. You shrug it on and do it up while TimothĂŠe puts his joggers back on and draws the curtains, leaving the two of you in dark for the most part. You lie further down, still close to his thin chest, you hear his breathing rattle a little, but it's soothing.
âNight beautiful.â Is the last thing you hear before falling asleep in his arms.
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The only issue about sleeping with TimothĂŠe is that you forget it's a Saturday morning, and on Saturdays, you have to work. Your phone alarm starts to go off at 7.15 precisely, which when youâre home, gives you enough chance to get ready for teaching in a calm manner so that you arenât already angry before teaching little children how to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Today however, that is not the case.
TimothĂŠe sleeps through it somehow, but your eyes are shocked wide awake, causing you to leap from the comfort and warmth of his bed and cuddles just to crawl on the floor in search of your phone and where it fell last night. You find it next to his door somehow, and switch the alarm off immediately, propping yourself up against the door to release a long held breath and to watch the sun rise through his windows. He looks so beautiful asleep, his lips parted slightly, soft snores escaping every so often, dark eyebrows furrowed and his mop of curls haphazardly lying around him like a halo. The morning glow makes his cheekbones appear even more defined.
You want to gather your belongings without waking him, get dressed and catch a cab back to your flat, but just as you go to open his door, he stirs.
âWhere do you think youâre going beautiful? Come back to bed, Iâm keeping you here with me forever.â You know heâs joking, and his words melt your heart and inhibitions a little, but you canât justify staying
âI have to work, my first student is at 9.30.â You say, walking across to stand beside his bed and brush some hair off his forehead, kissing him and your lips lingering on his sweaty skin a little longer than they probably should have.
âAnd? Iâll drive you home in time, if you live near Juilliard then I know a shortcut. Just come back.â He's virtually pleading, puppy eyes and quivering lip just to add to the effect, and you simply canât say no when he looks so perfect. You place your things on the floor by the bed and slip beside him, allowing your eyes to flutter shut just a moment longer.
His finger traces your naked body beneath the shirt, focussing on the bruises he left on your hips and the marks on your neck. Just his touch is enough to take control of your body, to give you goosebumps, to electrify every feeling of love and lust held within.
âCan I use your shower please?â You ask him, and he nods, placing his chin atop your head.
âIâll take you to my bathroom and then Iâll make you breakfast. Grab whatever clothing you want from my room, but you canât leave this bed until you agree to dinner with me tonight.â
Your heart rate increases tenfold at his gesture, and you want to take a leap of faith and say yes straight away, but that would be playing your cards too quickly. âWeâll see.â You respond sultrily, making your way to leave, but his strong grip pulls you flush against him with no space to move. You can hear him laughing in your ear.
âSay yes to dinner and then you can leave.â He slips his hands further down your front without losing his grip and decides to toy with your clit as though itâll get you to talk.
âY-yes! God, TimothĂŠe, of course Iâll go to dinner with you, just donât stop!â You find it impossible to understand the shockwaves of pleasure pulsating and electrifying your every sense from an action as simple as the pads of his fore and middle fingers twisting and pressing your sensitive clit. Itâs so incredible that after the previous night, it feels like overstimulation, and you canât get enough.
âIâll never stop.â He murmurs gruffly into your ear, you can hear the hoarseness that smoking causes but god it sounds and tastes so good.
He pulls your body closer and rolls you over. âHey baby.â You say as calmly as you can, but within seconds you find yourself sitting on his face, half of his stunning bone structure lost beneath you. He delves his tongue into your already dripping heat, licking as far as he can get and only pulling away to kiss and suckle at your clit.
âLet me come Mr Chalamet!â You cry out, and with one final swipe of his tongue around your core and a squeeze of your ass, you let go. TimothĂŠe licks you clean while you still chant his name, and he proceeds to pick you up in order to carry you to the bathroom. You settle your heels at the base of his spine, digging in a little, and his arms tense beneath your ass from the manner he carries you. You like being above him, able to trace every line and bit of stubble on his face with your focussed eyes that he stares so deeply into at any given chance.
âDonât be too long or Iâll be tempted to join you.â
You slowly cross the threshold of the bathroom, winking at him as you close the door. He inaudibly groans, but you can tell from his facial expression and the tension in his joggers that make him look utterly sexy. You slowly unbutton his shirt, reluctant to take it off, but when you step under the warm jet of his shower, that reluctance washes away along with any inhibitions you may have had about TimothĂŠe. Heâs an angel: clean, respectful, enjoys classical music, has a cat, isnât a cocky dickhead, and heâs literally the most gorgeous human being that youâve ever laid eyes on.
You run your fingers through your hair, standing directly beneath his showerhead. The steam clouds your vision, but you can hear TimothĂŠe singing while he cooks, Mystery of Love. What a dork, you think, chuckling to yourself while you rinse Timâs shower gel from your body, and you just know that after this youâll smell like him, but he smells delectable. As the water hits the most sensitive parts of your body, you remember the previous night. Just the thought of what he did to you makes you crave his touch again.
Through the bathroom window, you can make out the New York traffic that builds every morning, accompanied by the screeching of tires and sirens and car horns. Despite it being a ruckus, it's soothing as you step out the shower and wrap yourself in one of TimothĂŠeâs fluffy towels.
âHow do you look so sexy when youâre getting out of the shower? God, I can't stress it enough, youâre the most beautiful girl Iâve seen in my life, even without any makeup and with your hair un-styled, just wrapped in my Goddamn towel. Youâre gonna be mine, mark my words.â You feel tears come to your eyes at his kind words, watching him purposefully walk from the kitchen and all the way across his apartment just to place his hands on your waist and tell you how beautiful you are. Those words are better than a concerto to you.
Once youâve finished getting dry in his bedroom, you ferret through his drawers until you pull out a white top with various tie dye patterns across it. Itâs cute, very TimothĂŠe. You pull it on and it reaches your mid thighs, making it clock in your head just how much of a lanky lad he is. You bundle together your stuff and head out of his room, closing the door behind you and greeting him with a kiss. He sits you at the breakfast bar and serves you a proper cooked breakfast: bacon, scrambled eggs, and pancakes.
âThere's ketchup and syrup in the cupboard if youâd like.â He offers, sidling up on the seat beside you, nudging the tip of your nose with his thumb. The smile hasnât left your face since you met him.
âThis is good, youâre an excellent cook.â You tell him, resting your hand on his. His cheeks glow an even brighter red in the cascading morning sunlight, dappled by his blinds, but he looks magnificent despite his embarrassment.
You take out your phone, just to take a picture of the breakfast while itâs still untouched, and of your hand held by TimothĂŠeâs, already wearing rings. You notice that heâs already wearing a silver chain too, and a couple of bracelets on the wrist away from your own, which you find unusually attractive.
âI wish you could stay all day.â he whispers, placing his forehead on yours.
âMe too.â you say softly, smiling sadly and caressing his cheek.
You finish your breakfast and make your way to the living room in a strange kind of waltz orchestrated by TimothĂŠe. He insists on holding your waist and turning around a little, moving your feet in sync until you yank him down onto the sofa, catching his lips mid sigh which leads to a much more passionate make out session than you anticipated. Once thatâs over, he plaits your hair beautifully, explaining how it used to calm his sister down before an audition. By the time heâs finished a very good pair of plaits, you check the time and itâs already 9, time for you to leave with NYC traffic, but Tim wonât let you go.
âNot without a photo.â He insists, but you question his reasons. Who would want a photo of you with wet hair in plaits, an oversized tee-shirt and a bare face? But his answer is too sweet to refuse. âI like taking pictures of beautiful things, and of which, you are the most beautiful.â Your cheeks flush a raging scarlet, and TimothĂŠe takes your few moments of silence as the perfect opportunity to take a picture of you, sunlight hitting your face in all the right places, and he takes another for good measure, his hand on your cheek and his lips on yours, a kiss that shuts you up for good.
He takes you down the stairs right to the garage where he keeps his car, and surprisingly, itâs an understated car, not crazily extortionate nor flashy, something which you respect highly. He sits you in the passenger side, making sure to kiss you before closing the door, and he gets in the driver's side. After starting the engine and leaving the parking lot, he lays his palm flat against your thigh and keeps it there the whole drive while you change gears for him. You tell him all about your childhood, your high school, your time in uni while he tells you his life at a performing arts high school and then his life as an actor, he truly fascinates you.
Once he pulls up outside your building, he tries to convince you to let him come in, or at least walk you to your door, but on the grounds of not scaring the life out of your neighbours and students, you say no with a promise to see him later.
âIâm gonna fuck you so hard tonight that you wonât be able to walk.â He says, pulling you in for a final passionate kiss before you step out of the car. He made you wet just before you have to work, youâll get him back later, but the revenge melts as soon as he leans out the window to blow you a kiss and tell you how stunning you are.
Youâre so lost in your trance of TimothĂŠe that you donât notice your first student tapping you on the shoulder and excitedly saying âWas that the TimothĂŠe Chalamet?â
You chuckle to yourself, watching him drive off into traffic, all for you. âYes it was love, yes it was.â
#timothee chalamet#concerto#timmy t#chalamet#tim chalamet#timothee chalamet smut#timothee chalamet imagine#timothee chalamet fluff#timothee chalamet x reader#timothee smut#timothee fluff#timothee imagine
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Like The Old Days - Chapter Two - Mason Mount
Who: Mason Mount x Original Female Character Words: 1629 Disclaimer: I do not know Mason Mount or anyone else mentioned in these writings. Note: So the first chapter was just mainly an introduction, this chapter is nearly double of the previous chapter and I hope you all like it.
July 31st, 2017. Arnhem, Netherlands
The weather was quite chilly for a day in the middle of the summer. Not that it was a strange occurance in the Netherlands. It was one of the things I disliked the most about living in this country. I am someone who preferred the sun and the warmth. Unfortunately that was not going to happen anytime soon.
Despite the dreary weather, I knew that I would have to enjoy the summer as much as possible before it was over and before I would start on my last year of education. Just one more year and then it was time to find work. Something I just didnât want to think about just yet. I actually liked my school years until now.
The voice of my friend next to me pulled me out of my thoughts.
âIris? This is like the third time you blanked on me, whatâs going on in that head of yours?â Marie asked and I quickly blinked, a guilty expression on my face. âIâm sorry Mar. What were you saying again?â
The blonde sighed - clearly exaggarating, the smile on her lips giving that away as well as she looked at me over the edge of her sunglasses, bright blue eyes looking into my own hazel ones. âI was asking if you were up for going out for a drink this afternoon, after I finished work. It shouldnât be a long day and they say that the weather will only get better by the end of the day. Pretty please?â
I couldnât help but chuckle. It was an ever returning question from Marie whenever the weather was nice in the city. âFine, we are going out for a drink, but we are going to bring our own drinks and we are going to the park,â I encountered. Marie squinted her eyes for a moment, but then nodded. âDeal. Iâll ask Frances, Yvette and Sanne as well to see if they want to come.â
Even now I could already tell that the park was going to be packed. The park in the middle of the city was one of the most beautiful places in Arnhem, at least in my opinion. Whenever the sun was shining, it was busy. The slight slope in the grass made it a perfect place for sunbathing but also to have some barbecues in the summer. It was as if a big part of the city made its way into the park and my friends and I were definitely no exception.
The morning at our secondary school was one that finished pretty quickly. Marie and I were busy with our second year, with two more years to follow after this. After that university would probably follow if we were to choose for that, but so far I have not been interested in that. It meant more years at school while I knew what I wanted the most; I wanted to do something physical. I wanted to mean something for people, I wanted to travel. I did not want to get back in the school benches once more when I was done with this level of education.
So while Marie left to get to her job, I went back home. A home where a young brother had been bouncing around the house for some time now because our local football team Vitesse had been having a good pre-season so far and new names had been signed. With the Johan Cruijff Shield coming up at the start of the season, the football vibe was big in our house, with my brother bouncing off the walls. I liked football too but I had to admit that I didnât like our own competition much. Thatâs what you get when you get hooked on the Premier League. The pace and level of that league was so much higher than our Eredivisie so who can really blame me, right? So where Sam - my younger brother - had a yellow and black obsession, I had a red one. A Liverpool shaped one.
The moment I walked into the house, it was clear that my mum was pissed off. âSam de Jong, how many times do I have to tell you that you donât get to kick that ball around inside.â The sight of shattered pieces on the floor that had previously been a longdrink glass came into my view as I walked into the living room.
âIâm sorry mum! I was trying to score the winning goal.â I couldnât help but laugh at the words of my ten year old brother. As soon as I saw the look on my motherâs face, I bit my lower lip to stop myself from laughing.
âI just came by to let you know Iâll be at the park for the afternoon and also probably for dinner,â I quickly said, before leaving the room again so I could get upstairs, not wanting to witness the disaster that Sam was about to face.
It was only a short visit at home. While I freshened up after school - and listened to my mother yell at Sam while making him clean up the mess that he had made, I quickly looked through some messages on my phone where the other girls already showed that they had bought drinks and food already for the park.
Once I got the message from Marie that she was on her way to the park, I left the house as well. The park was only a short walk from my house but because I was known as the lazy one of my friends (and it was probably true as well), I picked the bike as my form of transport to the sunny greenery in the centre of the city. It didn't take long for me to find my friends, who had perched themselves on a large blanket in the grass. Many people had thought the same thing as we did. Other little groups had formed on the grass, some guys were kicking a football around while yelling at each other. In English. Which wasn't that rare here in Arnhem.
As I reached my friends, I just heard the last bit of a sentence Francis had said. "- is pretty cute." I rolled my eyes at the words, Francis was probably one of the biggest guy crazy people I had met but I loved her for it. I followed her gaze and found the footballing guys on the end of it. Oh, and Francis had a preference for athletes.
"Of course you have found the cutest guy in the entire park already," Marie said as she waved at me, holding out a glass with some fizzy drink in it. I looked over my shoulder and had to agree with Francis, however. The brown haired young man standing closest to us was not bad on the eyes. They were probably around the same age as us.
It was always good to spend free afternoons in the sun with my friends. For a moment there was not a worry in the world - although my mother would counter that at my age I did not have any worries. Laughing seemed to be the best remedy against long boring school days. I tried my best to zoom back into the story that Marie was telling. "So my brothers were in the backyard, mum kept yelling at them to grey inside for dinner, that they had to stop fooling around. They didn't listen at all, continued playing rugby and next moment, the ball went through the window. Mum was livid." I shook my head, a laugh escaping me as I thought back at the scene between my own brother and mother.Â
"Your brothers aren't the only ones good at breaking glass. Sam wanted to score the winning goal for the Johan Cruijff Shield and thought it was a good idea to do that inside. I walked in on -"
Before I could finish my sentence, this time I was interrupted by a sudden football hitting in the middle of our picnic cloth and knocking glasses over, the ball ending in my lap. I was too surprised to jump up like some of the other girls were doing.Â
"I'm so sorry ladies, my friend over there did a terrible job controlling the ball." A male voice spoke up in a British accent. It had to be one of the guys who had been kicking the ball around just a few meters away from us. A look up confirmed that it was the cute brown haired one who had come over to collect the ball in my lap. From up close he was even closer. Dark eyes matched his hair and a smile was on his lips, a shy one at that. He was our age, maybe just a bit older but when he smiled he had crinkles next to his eyes. It was Marie who found her voice back as the first one, of course she was.Â
"You can definitely say that. He should learn how to play football." The guy standing with us left out a chuckle, even though I did not understand why it was so funny what Marie had said.Â
"I'll let my friend Mitchell know." His gaze moved in my direction, since I had the ball. "I really am sorryâŚ" he trailed off, not knowing which name to add to the end of the sentence. A very smooth way to ask for my name although I didn't even realise it. I scrambled onto my feet finally with the ball in my hands. "It's Iris. Here's your ball back." I held out the ball to him, his fingertips brushing mine for just a second as he took it from me.Â
"Thank you Iris. I'm Mason."
#mason mount fanfic#mason mount fanfiction#mason mount imagine#mason mount blurb#mason mount#like the old days
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Pride and Prejudice
PART TWO
Summer came slowly. The days turned longer, the temperature warmer, and one day fruits hang where flowers had been.
Although the family participated to many social events, Piper never seemed to enjoy the dances quite as much as she the ones shared with Mr. Grace. Mr. Grace, the one whose name was never spoken in the house, more for Mrs. Solaceâs destroyed nerves than Piperâs wellbeing. And when someone asked Piper how she was coping, Piper would smile, and say, âItâs becomes easier each day that passes.â Will didnât believe her.
If there had once been a sense of expectation when they adventured to town, as there was a possibility of meeting Mr. Grace, seeing his and Piperâs story unfolding before their eyes, as Summer came they learnt to leave in boredom again.
And how dared Mr. Grace just walk out of Piperâs life without as much as a goodbye? The more the days passed, the more Will seethed, until bitter disappointment replaced the anger.
But Spring came to an end, and everyone knows that the big things in life always happen during the Summer.
 In the first days of June, Mrs. Solaceâs cousin invited Piper to London, and she didnât think too long before accepting.
âAfter all,â she reasoned with Will, âit canât hurt, can it? Every day Iâm here, I am forced to see his ghost. I wander through the fields, and if someone calls my name, even if it isnât his voice, I expect to see him when I turn.â
Mr. Caesar sent them a letter, and Mrs. Solace loudly announced that he was asking whether Mr. Solace was dead yet, although no one read it until dinner.
In the letter, Mr. Caesar apologized for felling the need to leave so harshly after Willâs outmost rejection. Despite that, he didnât have any hard feelings for his cousins, and to show it he invited Will to visit him and his newly married wife, Mrs. Leila Caesar, a Beta.
âShe must be very beautiful if he wants to rub her in front of Will,â Mitchell said.
âAnd she will have our house!â Mrs. Solace exclaimed, throwing her napkin on the table, only to ask Jonathan to give it back to her a second later. âShe will throw us on the streets, and now none of us will survive. We will die, all of us!â
Will didnât mention that Drew had been sneaking off to the fields more lately, to return late and with red cheeks, so at least one would survive. He didnât say it, but he gave her a pointed look. She glared right back.
âIâll go with Will,â Mitchell said. âI want to see her, too. She is probably really ugly if she has agreed to marry him.â
âYou wonât come with me,â Will said. âIâll go alone.â
Mr. Solace raised both eyebrows. âYou are willingly going to Mr. Caesarâs house?â
âI donât have much better to do,â Will reasoned. âAnd he canât have become worse than he was during his visit.â
Mitchell groaned, slumping in his seat. âYou are always so little fun.â
âHe expects you to bring one of your siblings, though,â Mr. Solace said.
Three days later another letter came. It was from another long-lost cousin of Mrs. Solace, who invited one of her children to visit her, as she was going south with her husband, and since their children were already married, she would have felt alone. For obvious reasons (he was her favorite child, and Drew had reclined the offer, as she didnât want her studies to suffer, which was an utter lie) she chose Mitchell.
âShe is rubbing it in my face,â Mrs. Solace seethed, ripping a hole in the napkin. âShe is rubbing it!â
Mr. Solace patted her back, but didnât hide the amusement from his face. After all, as he often said, he wouldnât be around to see his children fall in disgrace.
 Mr. Caesarâs house was beautiful, immersed in a green scenery. They certainly paid a lot in gardener, as many different kinds of flowers were on either side of the street. Mr. Caesar was at the door, standing straight beside a beautiful woman. Will blinked several time, but despite Mitchellâs prediction, it didnât change.
Will was given a tour of the house, before Mr. Caesar had to leave, and Will was left alone with Mrs. Caesar. It would have been his life, if he had been any more afraid of saying no to the Alpha. He couldnât find it in himself to regret his choice, not even as a they drank tea from shining, expensive cups, in Mrs. Caesarâs private parlor.
Left alone, Will and Mrs. Caesar quickly dropped the formalities. It didnât take long for them to bond, as Will had the ability of putting people at ease.
âIt isnât easy,â she later admitted. âBeing married to him. Being married in general, I think.â She leaned closer, a grimace curling her delicate lips. âAnd his patron is a nightmare at times.â
âLady Demeter?â Will asked.
She nodded, widening her eyes. âShe wants to know everything we do. We have been married for two weeks, and every time I see her, she asks whether I am pregnant already.â
A matching grimace fell on Willâs face. âLord. I met her grandson, he was a real nightmare, too.â
âMr. di Angelo? I only met him once, and he was very closed off. Although I have to say, I have heard many good things about him, especially from the servants.â
Willâs nose scrunched up. âI wouldnât know, the first time we met, he called me not pretty enough to tempt him into dancing.â
Leilaâs jaw went slack. âOh, Goodness! What did you tell him?â
âOh, I stumbled upon that conversation for a chance.â Will waved his hand in dismissal, as for him it had quickly become a matter to laugh about. âI was at the right place at the right time. Iâm ashamed to admit that I later rubbed it in his face.â
Leila laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand, and Will couldnât help but join her, despite having a blush on his face.
 Luckily, Mr. Caesar wasnât home the second day of Willâs stay either. Leila brought him to the beautiful fields near the river, and Will enjoyed every second of it. The first day, his hair was slicked back, as Mrs. Solace had forced him in a chair and done it, but after a bath he didnât bother repeating the process himself.
âDo you come from around here?â Will asked Leila, as they strolled around a path. âI didnât ask yesterday.â
âYes, I lived here my whole life,â she said. She looked up at the sky, as though it held the answers to her every question. âI always thought I would travel a bit more before getting married.â
âYou can come to Longbourn anytime you want,â Will said. âI must already tell you, my fatherâs wife will be absolutely insufferable.â
She furrowed her eyebrows. âYour fatherâs wife?â
âMy step-mother,â Will explained. âMy mother died when I was thirteen. My father is his current wifeâs third husband.â
âShe had been married two times and he still married her?â
Will shrugged, turning his eyes up to the sky, too. It was a dark grey, not the best of premonition with which walking, but Leila was sure that it wouldnât rain. âThey had been friends for years, they knew they wouldnât fall in love. She had four children, my father three, and they had another together. They needed an Alpha â or Beta â heir.â
âIt doesnât sound very romantic.â
âOh, it isnât. My father was in love with my mother, and Aphrodite â his wife â was with her previous husbands. Maybe she accepted to marry my father because she was tired of falling in love.â
âItâs terrible to think, isnât it?â
Will shrugged. A part of him couldnât help but think whether it wouldnât be good for her, to find another man to fall in love with for real after having married Mr. Caesar. He couldnât follow that line of thought for much longer, as a shout of Leilaâs name came from afar, and Willâs own decency stopped her.
They both turned â Leila a bit startled â to see a dark-skinned girl walking in a fast pace towards them; long, curly hair bouncing on her back. When she got closer, Will realized that she looked like someone he knew, but he couldnât get a name. Underneath her sweet scent lingered another, manlier and Alpha-like. It was slight, but it tingled Willâs nose, and even if he didnât recognize it, it rubbed him the wrong way.
She and Leila greeted one another informally. Hazel, Leila called her.
âThis is my husbandâs cousin,â Leila said.
Hazel tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes as a smile brightened her features even more. âSo you are a Solace.â
âI am,â Will said. In front of such a beaming smile, the previous annoyance, caused by the scent, melted as snow under the sun. âItâs very nice to meet you, MissâŚ?â
âLevesque,â Hazel said, bowing her head. âMiss Hazel Levesque, but just Hazel is fine.â
Will repeated her gesture. âWilliam Solace.â
âHazel is Lady Demeterâs granddaughter,â Leila said.
Will nodded. It took him a moment to connect the dots, thus recognizing the scent. âI think I know your cousin.â
âBrother, actually,â she said. âWe have both taken our mothersâ surnames. And believe me, I already knew.â
But before she could give an explanation, the sky broke above them, with such fury one would have thought they had wronged God themselves. They shared one look, and ran for their lives.
 When they finally entered the house, they were all shivering. Will pushed his wet hair, sticking to his forehead, away. They were getting too long, Mrs. Solace had threatened to cut them for weeks.
Soon, they were all sitting in front of the fireplace, steaming cups of water in their hands, and blankets on their back. Will even wished he had brought his furs from home.
âSo, you know all of my cousins, William?â Hazel asked him.
Will smiled. âI met them, yes.â Was that enough to say, in regards of the time they had spent together? The balls, the times they had run into each other in town. It surely wasnât half enough to explain Piperâs heartbreak. âMr. Grace once told me you were supposed to go with them.â
Hazel giggled. She really was a lovely Omega. âOh, yes. But my brother plotted against me.â
âPlotted?â Will repeated.
Hazel waved a hand in dismissal. âSometimes he forgets that I am grown, and I donât need anyone to take decisions for me. Still, I canât help but understand him, you know?â She stirred her tea, taking a long sip before continuing. âWhen our father died, I was only sixteen, and I took a couple of wrong decisions, which I often try to forget about. He took care of me. I donât think he will ever see me as an adult, even when I mate and have children.â
Will nodded, sadness bitter on his tongue. âOldest brothers are annoying like that.â
âDo you have any?â Leila asked.
âI did,â he said softly. âThey were both Alphas.â
 Little kids always have a special kind of adoration for their oldest siblings, so pure it really must have been sent by God. Will had always thought so. He saw it anytime he locked eyes with Jonathan. Sometimes, Kayla still looked at Will like he had hung the moon in the sky. Austin did so far less. Lacy sometimes let her guard down, and she was the second to younger among them, her happiness was always refreshing. Mitchell had only ever looked at them as though they were ants, but Will was pretty sure they werenât completely hated. He, Drew and Piper shared a different kind of bond, more mature than the othersâ. He surely adored Piper, and Drew did, too, even if she forgot it at times.
 Hazel left when the rain finally stopped pouring from the sky, saying her grandmother had to be searching for her. Mr. Caesar returned home from the city not long later, and asked whether they had been home all day. Leila giggled, and told him the whole story (or what she could, as Mr. Caesar wasnât much interested in stories that didnât involve him or the Lord).
âWe will visit Lady Demeter tomorrow,â Mr. Caesar said. His eyes bore holes in Willâs. âShe was kind enough to extend her invitation to you as well.â
âIâm not sure I have clothes beautiful enough to meet her,â Will said.
Mr. Caesar visibly shivered. âIt isnât a problem, Mr. Solace. Lady Demeter prefers humble people.â
Will nodded, but he didnât need to meet her, to know she wouldnât be humble at all, more similar to her arrogant grandson than her joyous granddaughter.
 Once again, Will was right. Lady Demeter was an aging dark-skinned woman, whose hair had turned white, but she kept her back straight. A lily was placed at the start of her braid, it was the same color as her clothes.
She looked at Will, raising an eyebrow, and he couldnât see anyone but her grandson in him, even if they didnât share any physical trait.
âWilliam Solace, is it?â She asked, but it sounded more like a statement.
âIt is,â Mr. Caesar intervened.
Lady Demeter nodded once, before turning her attention to Leila. As they waited for dinner, they stayed in the parlor, Hazel sitting next to her grandmother, and a woman unknown to Will on the armchair opposite to her. She leaned towards Will when he sat. Her scent was strong, heavy even if feminine. An Alpha.
âReyna Avila RamĂrez-Arellano,â she presented herself, the name falling easily off her tongue. âIâve heard so much about you.â
Will raised his eyebrows. âFrom Hazel?â
âOh, no. I know Mr. di Angelo and Mr. Grace quite personally,â she said, waving her hands. Two rings, one silver and one gold, simple bands on each middle finger, and they caught the light of the candles.
The doors opened, a familiar scent reached Willâs nostrils even before he turned. Even if the previous day Will asked Hazel whether her brother had come with her, and she said he hadnât. She looked absolutely ecstatic to see him, jumping from her seat to hug him. Mr. di Angelo chuckled in her hair. Will found himself stunned by the sight.
âPlease, donât bother greeting me, Nicolò,â Lady Demeter said, the wrinkles on her forehead deepened.
Mr. di Angelo let go of his sister, and his eyes widened when they landed on Will. Miss RamĂrez-Arellanoâs gaze never left Mr. di Angelo, and she looked as though she were having lots of fun.
Lady Demeter cleared her throat, and Mr. di Angeloâs attention shifted back to her.
âAs you wish, grandmother,â he simply said. He looked back at the door, clasping his hands behind his back, raising an eyebrow. âIs dinner quite ready?â
âHave some manners, boy,â Lady Demeter replied sternly. âTake a seat.â
Mr. di Angelo did as he was told, but not without winking at his sister first. Winking, and she giggled. He told Hazel that he had come to escort her back the next day, so that she wouldnât be alone during the ride. If possible, her smile widened even more.
âShe is always like that,â Miss RamĂrez-Arellano told Will quietly, leaning closer to him. âHe can do no wrong in her eyes.â
Will turned to her, but he didnât have time to ask the question on his tongue, as a servant announced that dinner was ready to be served. Lady Demeter demonstrated how much of a humble and kind woman she was, when she threw a fit for the way they were about to sit, asking Mr. Caesar to move in Willâs place so that he would be next to his wife, leaving Will between Mr. di Angelo and Miss RamĂrez-Arellano.
âI understand that you have many siblings, Mr. Solace,â Lady Demeter told Will.
âI do,â Will confirmed. âOne older than me, and six younger.â
âAnd they are all in society already?â
âNo, the youngest is only seven.â
âSo many children in society, yet the first one isnât even married.â Lady Demeter shook her head. âWhat a peculiar choice.â
She pronounced the words like they were venom to be spat, and it brought a smile to Willâs lips.
âIt would have been cruel to keep the other children home as the oldest went out, wouldnât it? It wouldnât have encouraged siblinghood, I think.â
âYour mother must be a very strong woman to have birthed so many children,â Lady Demeter continued.
âMy mother was particularly frail of health,â Will said. âShe never bore any children. We were all adopted.â
âHow peculiar,â Lady Demeter repeated. âAll of you?â
Will thought of his oldest siblings, Piperâs older sister. He thanked God for having masked his scent, or it would have turned sour, and it was the last thing he wanted to happen in front of such an arrogant woman.
âI thought Lady Persephone would be here,â Mr. di Angelo said.
His way of cutting the conversation short lacked in smoothness, but for once Will was glad of his presence, even if Mr. di Angelo had to already know much of the Solaces, to be completely disinterested in the answer.
Lady Persephone, as Will understood from the following conversation, was Mr. di Angeloâs late fatherâs third wife. Miss RamĂrez-Arellano was a close friend of both siblings, and she spent most of the dinner talking to them. She also knew Mr. Grace.
âHe has been in London for the past few weeks,â she said about him. âHis sister as well.â
Will only smiled, hoping Mr. Grace wouldnât run into his sister, giving her the time she needed to grieve and move on.
After dinner, they moved to the parlor. Lady Demeter sat on a high chair, which resembled a throne engraved with flowers. Will sat between Mr. Caesar and Miss RamĂrez-Arellano on the soft sofa.
âPlenty of these paints are made by Hazel,â Lady Demeter said, gesturing to the walls. âDo you paint, William?â
Will, ever so cordial, smiled. âNot really, no. Although I can see that Hazel is very good.â
âStrange.â Her eyebrow rose again, and so did Mr. di Angeloâs, as though it had been called. The idea alone so ridiculously funny that Will bit his lip to avoid giggling. âDid you not have a housekeeper to teach you?â
âWe did,â Will said.
âAnd she didnât?â
âShe tried. Unluckily, I was a terrible child, and preferred painting the walls instead of canvas. Eventually, she surrounded.â
Mr. di Angelo coughed, his face as red as Hazelâs. He tried hiding his blossoming grin behind his hand, as Hazel raised her fan.
âDo you have anything to add, Nicolò?â Lady Demeter questioned, her voice stern.
Mr. di Angelo shook his head, without uttering a single word, nor raising his eyes from the floor, as his shoulders trembled.
Lady Demeterâs lips curled. âCan you show some contain, boy?â
However, Mr. di Angelo could not. He almost fell forward, and Hazel grabbed the back of his shirt to keep him up. He turned to red he would have passed for a tomato.
âThey are always like this when they are together, Mr. Solace,â Miss RamĂrez-Arellano told him quietly. Fondness sparked in her eyes, becoming a fire when Mr. di Angelo loudly guffawed.
Miss RamĂrez-Arellano seemed to be a decent Alpha, and once more, Will couldnât muster how a good person could be friends with Mr. di Angelo. He hadnât forgotten Mr. Lawrenceâs story, yet.
âDo you play the piano, William?â Lady Demeter continued.
âOnly a little,â Will replied.
âPlay it for us,â she ordered.
From her demanding tone alone, Will knew he wouldnât. He opened his mouth to protest, sweet smile already in place, but Mr. Caesar accepted for him. Once more, locking eyes with Leila, who seemed unperturbed, he knew he could have never lived that type of life.
So Will sat at the piano, stretching his fingers. When he was only a child trying to keep up with his older Alpha brothers, he had broken the index of his left hand. It had never completely healed, but it felt like a lifetime ago. If it werenât for the crook in his index, Will would have been sure, it was only a dream.
Concentrating as best as he could on playing, even if he missed a few notes here and there, he tuned out the conversation. At some point, Mr. di Angelo stopped next to him, calix in hand, eyebrow raised.
âAre you trying to intimidate me, Mr. di Angelo?â Will asked, looking up.
Mr. di Angelo swallowed, and Willâs had no choice but to follow the movement of his throat. âI know by now that you are not so easily intimidated, Mr. Solace.â
Will smiled down at his hands. He wanted to find a sense to what Mr. di Angelo had said, but there was a part of him that couldnât help but be already satisfied. He didnât understand why.
âTell us, Mr. Solace,â Miss RamĂrez-Arellano said loudly, without standing from her position, but claiming everyoneâs attention. âHow was our di Angelo in Meryton?â
âIâm afraid I donât have many niceties to say, Miss RamĂrez-Arellano.â Will locked eyes with Mr. di Angelo, who was as stiff as a statue. âThe first time we met was at a ball, and he refused to dance, although many people were only waiting for an invite.â
Mr. di Angeloâs eyes remained on Will as he defended himself. âI didnât know anyone.â
âAnd as everyone knows, one absolutely canât introduce himself at balls,â Will said. He raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile on his lips. If he had been any pettier, he would have reminded Mr. di Angelo how heâd heard him calling the company ânot pretty enoughâ.
âI danced at the next ball,â Mr. di Angelo said. He raised the calix to his lips. There was a ring on his middle finger, a simple black band.
âAfter telling me that balls and dancing made you miserable,â Will replied.
âLord, Nico, you are a disaster,â Hazel said, and she sounded absolutely delighted.
Miss RamĂrez-Arellano sighed, nodding tiredly. Lady Demeter rubbed her temples, calling a servant to pour her more wine, and Mr. di Angelo grimaced, as though he were swallowing a whole lemon.
 Leila and Mr. Caesar had some urgent matter in the village, and Will preferred staying alone in the house.
His thoughts circled around the previous night, how Mr. di Angelo had somehow charmed Miss RamĂrez-Arellano, enough for her to even define him a younger brother. He could easily explain Hazelâs adoration for him, as he was her brother. Mr. Grace had demonstrated himself to not be as much of an Alpha as he had seemed, so there was no reason to take him into consideration again. Maybe, if Will waited enough, Miss RamĂrez-Arellano would show herself as another Mr. Grace.
He sat by the window in Leilaâs private parlor, the only place in the house which wasnât infested with Mr. Caesarâs scent. He wrote a letter to his sister, which he would send before going back home. However, it wasnât long before a servant came, announcing Mr. di Angeloâs presence.
Mr. di Angelo, who only bowed his head to Will, let him do the same, and sat in front of him, on the other side of the table.
âAre you here for Mr. and Mrs. Caesar, Mr. di Angelo?â Will asked, when the silence became unbearable. âIâm afraid Iâm here alone.â
Mr. di Angeloâs scent spiked, if only for a moment, and Will shivered. âIâm not.â
âAre you here for me, then?â Willâs voice was filled with confusion, but also a hint of surprise.
Mr. di Angeloâs eyebrow arched. He sat stiffly, and once again Will wondered whether he was a statue. âHazel will stay for one more day. She would like to invite you for dinner again.â
âIt would be a pleasure,â Will lied.
Mr. di Angelo seemed to catch onto that lie. âMy grandmother wonât be there.â
âOh,â Will said. A smile slowly spread on his lips. âAccepting your sisterâs invitation would be a pleasure, then. I was under the impression that you would have left today.â
Mr. di Angelo cleared his throat. âWe should have. Hazel has asked me to stay one more day, although she came to visit our grandmother, and she has already left. We will leave the morning of the day after tomorrow.â There was a moment of silence, then he looked down at the table, his eyes barely grazing over Willâs letter. âAre you writing to your family, Mr. Solace?â
âI am.â
âAre they well?â
Last time they had seen, Piper wasnât. âThey are. I understand that you come from London, maybe you have seen my sister. She is there with a maternal cousin of hers.â
Mr. di Angelo raised the other eyebrow as well. âI havenât.â
He cleared his throat again, and Will wanted to tell him to have some honey, as it seemed quite sore. But Mr. di Angelo stood, and Will didnât have time to say it, as Mr. di Angelo bowed his head, and left as though he were running from a fire.
 Mr. di Angelo wasnât there during dinner. Miss RamĂrez-Arellano excused him, saying he had had some problems in his fatherâs proprieties, that needed to be resolved quickly.
âHe has asked me to escort his sister back to Pemberley House,â she told Will. âShe really doesnât like traveling alone.â
 On the last day of his stay, Will attended the Mass. Mr. di Angelo was in the front row, already there when Will arrived. Miss RamĂrez-Arellano took the seat beside Will, tipping her head in greeting. He smiled back, scooting over to let her sit.
âHow come you are already back?â Will asked her quietly.
âHazel has forgotten an unfinished painting, and Nico came back to get it, although she has said many times that it wasnât an urgency.â She shook her head, a fond look back on her face. âAt times, I only follow him to make sure his tongue doesnât get him into a fight in inns.â
Will didnât say anything, his doubts about Miss RamĂrez-Arellano resurfacing in his mind. He would have fallen asleep during Mr. Caesarâs salmon, if it werenât for the rain shaking the windows.
âIs it your first time listening to his salmons?â Miss RamĂrez-Arellano whispered to him.
âIt is. I canât say I wasnât given signs. He spent a week or so at my house last Spring.â
âDuring the time of Nicoâs visit to Meryton?â
Will nodded. âThey also met. Mr. di Angelo might have erased the memory, he didnât seem very fond of the place nor the people.â
âHe always does, but that is rarely the truth. He doesnât let many emotions slip on his face, has been thought since he was a child that Alphas shouldnât let them through.â As she talked, Miss RamĂrez-Arellanoâs eyes were as hard as steel. She talked of him as one would have of their youngest sibling. âAlthough you donât like him much, he is very loyal to his friends, protective of them. I learnt that just last Spring, he saved a friend of ours from a loveless engagement. Apparently, he was completely in love with a girl, and not only was she indifferent to him, she showed particular interest in his money.â
Willâs heart completely stopped. His eyes fell on Mr. di Angeloâs straight back. He didnât have many expectations on the man, but as his palms turned clammy, he realized he had also been nursing the feeling that, just maybe, he was a terrible man, but not the most terrible of all. How could he have been, when his sister was so lovely?
Somewhere, Will found the strength the continue the conversation, even if his cheeks burnt as though he had been slapped. âHe saved his friend?â
âI donât know the details, none of them talks much about it. Our friends, he is utterly heartbroken. He was really taken with that girl. I canât help but think that Nico has done taken the right decision. Also, the girlâs family, they were of an inferior social standing, and it appears that the mother was very ambitious.â
âWho says that the girl wasnât in love as well?â Will asked, his eyes snapping from Mr. di Angeloâs head to Miss RamĂrez-Arellanoâs eyes. Now that his heart was beating again, the sadness had been replaced by anger.
Miss RamĂrez-Arellanoâs eyes widened. âDo you know the girl?â
Will was about the say that he knew, and also explain why, but the old woman in front of them turned to shush them. So Will bit his lip, raising his chin. For the rest of the function, Miss RamĂrez-Arellanoâs gaze was a sunflower, and Willâs face the sun.
 Will almost ran out of the Church. He passed through the people, in need of a single breath of fresh air, until he got one, and it wasnât nearly enough. He ran, and when his legs cried in despair, not able to carry him anymore, he took a moment of rest under the roof of the old town-hall. Drops were running down his face, and he didnât know whether they were tears or rain.
A thunder shook the sky, covering the sound of steps, but the scent that he hadnât been able to name filled Willâs nostrils, even over that of the rain.
âAre you completely insane?â Mr. di Angelo asked. âYou will catch something, running under the rain like that.â
Will turned to him, biting his lip so hard it should have broken. âI donât see you arriving with a carriage, Mr. di Angelo.â
Will had spat his name like it was a curse, as if it could be used to slap Mr. di Angeloâs stoic face, and color some emotion that wasnât disdain, if only for once.
âI have something to confess to,â Mr. di Angelo suddenly said, his face turning into a new type of void boredom. âIn vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. In declaring myself thus I am fully aware that I will be going expressly against the wishes of my family, my friends, and, I hardly need to add, my own better judgment.â
If the ground had opened and swallowed him whole, Will would have been less surprised. There was disgust on Mr. di Angeloâs face, towards himself or maybe even Will. He shook his head. âIt makes no sense.â
âWhat makes no sense?â
âEverything you have just said.â
âI love you, does that make enough sense to you now?â Mr. di Angelo shook his head, pushing the hair from his forehead. The clothes he wore were completely wet, and Will didnât have to look down at himself to know his werenât doing much better. âWith the inferiority of your family, your rank, it will never make sense.â
âIt never will because this isnât a confession, it is an accusation!â Will exclaimed. âIf my standing gives you so much pain, then my rejection should bring you joy alone! After everything you have done to my friend, my family, me, you come and claim yourself a man in love? You must be joking.â
Mr. di Angelo scoffed, crossing his arms on the chest. âYour friend? Would you be so disgusted, had I not been honest in saying I take no joy in your social standing?â
Willâs skin burned, his heart running wildly in his chest. âMr. Lawrence. Does the name ring any bell?â
Mr. di Angelo closed his jaw so tightly a muscle jumped. He didnât say a thing, but for less than a second, his eyes flashed red. His scent spiked, and still he didnât say a word. Will had no doubt that, if he had opened his mouth, he would have growled.
âHe told me of what you did to him,â Will continued, venom slipping through the cracks of his voice. âHow you ignored your fatherâs testament for pettiness and jealousy over a dead manâs love. With time, I could have even forgiven you for that if you had made amends to him, but what you did to my sister and Mr. Grace was somehow even worse.â
Mr. di Angelo let his arms fall. He moved closer, leaving wet trails in his wake. âSaving my friend from a loveless marriage?â
âMy sister was in love, and still is, with Mr. Grace.â Will snarled the name of the traitorous Alpha who had gone and followed his friendâs advice instead of the seeing the truth. âWhen your party left, and I now know it was because of you and your ill-advice, she was left completely heartbroken, feeling a derision everywhere she went, as everyone had known she was hoping that Mr. Grace would ask her to marry him.â
âI watched them closely, and thought her indifferent.â
âShe is shy!â Will said, and only realized he was yelling when his throat hurt. âShe barely shows her affection to me, and Iâm her brother!â
Mr. di Angelo took a step back, as if those very words had slapped him, more than anything else Will had said. Another thunder flashed in the sky, followed by a loud echo.
âAnd talking of others not showing their feelings when you have never shown anything but disgust to me, makes you both a liar and a hypocrite,â Will finished, heavily panting. With every breath, he caught more of Mr. di Angeloâs scent. There was a chant in his blood, asking for more.
âIf this is all,â Mr. di Angelo said, his lips curled downwards, not in a show of disgust, but something Will hadnât seen on him before. âThen I wonât steal any more of your precious time.â
He turned, and disappeared so quickly Will could have convinced himself to having dreamed every word and every anger, if it werenât for the scent lingering in the air, and the buzzing underneath his skin.
 It was late mid-summer, the day Will arrived home, and Piperâs scent of lavender hung in every corner, and her luggage still near the front-door. Jonathanâs laughter came from the parlor, and Will followed it, as if enchanted.
Will added himself to cuddling pair on the sofa, causing Jonathan to giggle and say that he wasnât breathing. As quickly as they let him go, Jonathan ran out of the door, probably to chase the ducks in the courtyard.
Will told her of his time at Mr. Caesarâs house, although he had been home for some weeks, leaving out every bit concerning Mr. di Angelo. He didnât want to rip any old wound open, both his and Piperâs. She later told him of her time in the city, how life was so different there, and made her miss every one of them. They moved to the stairs in front of the door, watching Jonathan run around.
âDid it work?â Will asked, afraid of the answer. When he closed his eyes, he still saw Mr. di Angelo, the water sticking his clothes to his body, the disgust in his eyes when he confessed those feelings that so deeply hunted him.
âI think so,â Piper said. âIf I saw him on the streets, I might even not recognize him. Maybe in a couple of years I will laugh about it, and the way I fell so quickly, despite my best intentions.â
It constricted Willâs heart. He smiled, a tight one that he knew didnât look natural.
âI almost forgot,â Piper said, clapping her hands, waiting for Will to look at her. âI met the postman as I was coming here, and he had a letter for you. I took it, but I was confused, as it is from Mr. di Angelo.â
Willâs heart stopped again. He turned to his sister, feeling stiff and awkward in his own skin. âHave you read it?â
âNo, of course not.â
Piper took an envelope from the pocket of her long dress. Willâs fingers shook as she passed it to him, and he cradled it close to his chest.
âDo you have any idea what he wants?â She asked, her voice almost fragile, and Will wondered whether she had really forgotten about Mr. Grace, if only the ghost of his presence did this to her. âI didnât think you two exchanged letters.â
âWe donât,â Will said. He cleared his throat, standing, but the pavement swayed under his feet. âIâll go read it somewhere.â
Piper nodded, her eyes boring holes his back as he walked away.
 Will sat by the river, the wind caressing the grass and making it dance behind him, as he looked up, wordlessly asking for the strength of opening that letter. Eventually, it came to him. Mr. di Angelo had written it by hand, in an elegant but rushed handwriting. The envelope, which had in fact seemed quite full, contained two sheets of paper. Will shook himself out of getting lost in the details, to finally read that letter. He wasnât surprised by how Mr. di Angelo had avoided any term of greeting.
Be not alarmed by receiving this letter, as I intend not to bother you with those feelings which have disgusted so much you in June, but only to explain myself. With that, I do not wish to persuade you into agreeing to feelings you firmly refused, nor to humble my character in any way. The only thing I wish for, is the possibility of telling you my motivations, as I can never talk properly, especially when I find myself around you. You revolted two accusations against me: the first, separating Mr. Grace and your sister; the second, which I regret far less, is throwing Mr. Lawrenceâs life away. I would like to start with the first.
I will not hide behind lies. It is true, I have separated Mr. Grace and your sister, and at the time I believed my reasons to be right. I looked at them closely, as my friend is sometimes too generous and is taken advance of, and I didnât want to witness anything of the kind in Meryton, which for him was a fresh breath. I watched closely, saw my friend falling more and more in love, for someone that shied away from his offers. For a time, I believed that she was playing a game of sorts, trying to get him to want her more. I apologize for being such an Alpha.
Jason couldnât talk of anything if it didnât concern her, and your step-mother never said that your sister was in love, but only that she hoped to finally marry her off, as I caught her saying numerous times. Other times again, and you were there, too, so you should remember, she talked of how Jason should have hurried in proposing, as Piper could have had any other Alpha she wanted.
After the ball at Netherfield, I asked Miss Grace whether she had noticed it. We donât often see things eye-to-eye, but we both care about Jason. So I invented having some urgent business in London, to which Miss Grace added herself as company. Jason added himself to the party, as we knew he would, and, although we hadnât even thought of inviting Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, they came, too. We left during the night, and I only talked to Mr. Grace when we reached London, told him about my doubts, and he said he had shared them for some time, but thought he was only imagining her coldness towards him, as he misses the sun when it is covered by a cloud, with the faith that he will see it again.
I was sure I had only protected him, and his heart broke, so we never came back to Netherfield. I recognize my fault, and I will never apologize enough to either Jason nor your sister for the heartbreak I have caused them both.
As for the other matter, that of Mr. Lawrence, I am sure he told you a story. If you are willing to read more, I would like to tell you the real story, as long as it is.
I was my parentsâ second born child. My sister Bianca died before she could present, but she had a frail scent. Even as a Beta, my parents had chosen her as an heir, and my being born an Alpha wouldnât have changed that. I wanted to be a merchant, as my maternal grandfather was, and travel Europe and the rest of the world. I was young when my mother died, and my father married Hazelâs mother. However, she died, too.
For all that time, Bryceâs father worked for mine. He died when his son was eight, and I was seven. My father raised Bryce like a son, and I saw him so much as a brother, that I thought he would have been my fatherâs heir, when Bianca died. She was thirteen, and I was ten. Her death was a terrible accident, that involved my cousin Percy. I blamed him, under the influence of Bryce, but we were both children, and I canât find it in myself to hold a grudge anymore.
Bryce was afraid of many things. He didnât want to lose his family, and neither did I. With the years, we grew closer and closer, to the point that I thought he would never leave my life, I didnât wish for it.
My father died when I was nineteen. It was a terrible time, I wonât lie. I tried to take care of all of his possessions, affirming myself so that I would be respected enough to not be challenged, before risking battles I couldnât have won. I managed to affirm myself in that way, but I had left my family for too long, and when I returned, things had irreparably changed. I didnât even realize.
Not long after my fatherâs death, Bryce told me that he didnât wish to be a clergyman, thus taking the living my father had prepared for him, and asked for money instead. I accepted, and the next morning he was gone. Hazel was heartbroken, as she always cares too deeply.
Not a week had passed, when Bryce returned, saying he had made the greatest of mistakes, spending to the last penny in gambling and drinking. He asked for forgiveness, and I told him he didnât need any, as he was a brother to me. I was a fool to think it would be all he would have done.
The following morning, Lady Persephone, my fatherâs third wife, left for her motherâs house. She had helped me, but she needed peace and time to grieve. How one could find peace with Lady Demeter still goes beyond me. The day she left, is the day I would have needed the most guidance, to see what was happening behind me.
Bryce left to study, and eventually taking his living. Not two months later, he asked me to give him more money, and I refused, knowing he would have spent it before night came. I had grown prideful in those days, and I appear to still be. If in his story he said that I have laughed in his face, I can make no deny. He also said that he couldnât find any happiness in his studies, and I told him that there would always be a place for him with me.
So he abandoned his studies, and returned to live with me and Hazel. Even when he returned, I didnât feel any less alone, but still kept everyone away. I didnât acknowledge my pain, nor did I notice Hazelâs.
She was young, only sixteen, and Bryce has always been charming. I loved him so much, I couldnât even be jealous of that. He charmed my sister, while I was too blinded with the pain caused by my new responsibilities, the ones I had never wished for. To this day, I donât know exactly what lies he told her, but she believed that he loved her, and she mistook the brotherly love she held for him for something else. Understand that she was in a fragile state, and he took advance of that.
They ran away. I tracked them not too far, as Bryce may be charming, but he surely isnât the brightest. He didnât think that I would be able to find my sister through scent alone, even when it was only barely lingering in the air. For the first time, I thanked God for being born with the nose of an Alpha. I paid Bryce, and he promised to disappear from our lives.
When I saw him from the tea-shop last Spring, I thought it was a nightmare. I didnât know he had become a soldier. I went to talk to him the morning of the ball in Netherfield. I have to admit, I didnât like how he was always around you and your siblings. However, I didnât get to speak to him, as when I arrived he was drunk, and I have too much dignity to try to speak to someone who wouldnât even recall the conversation the following day.
I believe that this is all I have to say. I wish I had been able to tell you earlier, Mr. Solace, but as I have already said, there is something about you that makes my tongue tie. If you do not believe my words, I would ask you not to ask Hazel, who still finds shame in the naivety of her young age, but to Reyna, whom I always confessed my crimes to. I realize that there is nothing more I could ever ask you for, but as you said I am an arrogant man, so, if you will, consider my sister your friend, despite the brother she has found herself with. As you once told me, one does chose their family.
I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health and well,
my best wishes,
Nicolò di Angelo.
 Drew found Will with tears running down his face, and an expression so devastated that his sadness couldnât be mistaken. She sat by him, nosing along his scent gland, covering his sour scent with her own.
âWhat is it?â She asked.
But Will only shook his head. âItâs nothing.â She didnât bulge, and it wasnât long before Will spilled the truth. âAs you know, Mr. Caesar works for Lady Demeter, Mr. di Angeloâs grandmother. I met both him and his sister there.â
âYour luck is incredible at times,â Drew said.
âI know. I learnt some things about him, and his past, but also about Mr. Grace.â Will sighed, and found Drew looking up at him. âShould I tell Piper? She says she is finally doing better, and I donât want to rip an old wound open.â
âI donât think you should tell her. Mr. Grace is not our problem anymore, and he broke her heart. He can stay wherever he is.â Her nose scrunched up. âThe only thing she can do now, is moving forward, and leave him in the past.â
 Up until the end of the Summer, they were in peace. Piper settled back to life in the countryside, the younger siblings â besides Mitchell, who would return when August ended â went back to their lessons, and Aphroditeâs nerves gave up every other hour.
Will tried his best not to think of Mr. di Angelo, busying himself every time the thought resurfaced. However, when he closed his eyes at night, he couldnât help but get through their every interaction, and everything he had ever been told about the man.
He thought of their only dance together. Mr. di Angeloâs heart had beaten wildly, and even then, Will had wondered whether it was for the attention. After Mr. di Angeloâs confession, he wondered whether it was for his particular attention.
In August, their aunt Artemis wrote a letter to her brother, asking whether Will was willing to visit Derbyshire with her and another friend. Not a week later, Will was leaving again.
 Artemis didnât like traveling alone. Will wasnât sure what her business in London was, he knew that she fought social battles, and had some contacts inside the Parliament, especially in the House of Commons. For that particular travel, Will was with her and Hippolytus, a Beta working for her. He wasnât fond of marriage, mating and romance, as he told Will himself.
âDerbyshire is beautiful this season,â Artemis said, the third night of their tour.
They were sleeping in inns, and they had been lucky enough not to meet any Alpha nor Beta who gave them a hard time, despite some peopleâs stares staying uncomfortably long on Will, at times.
Hippolytus nodded. âAre we visiting the di Angelo estate tomorrow? I heard itâs stunning.â
Will almost dropped his glass. âPemberley, you mean?â
Hippolytus nodded again, tilting his head to the side. âYou look like you have seen a ghost. Are you quite alright?â
âJust a bit tired,â Will said, and it wasnât a lie. âWhat were you saying about tomorrow?â
Artemis chuckled. âWe are visiting the di Angelo estate tomorrow, or Pemberley. I wrote to the housekeeper, and she is willing to have us. Although Mr. di Angelo wonât be there.â
âAre you sure?â Will insisted, leaning forward on the table. âThat he wonât be home.â
Artemis furrowed her eyebrows. âDid you want to meet him? I hear heâs grown to be quite gorgeous.â
Heat rose to Willâs face. He blurted a negative answer out, the words tumbled down his tongue, but he didnât wish to know whether his aunt and Hippolytus had heard him. He gave them both a tight smile, bid them goodnight, and escaped before they could understand what had happened.
 Pemberley House wasnât far from the town of Lambton. They walked there, as Artemis was as fond of walking as Will.
Pemberley House was on the opposite side of the valley, and it caught the eye, despite being in perfect harmony with the natural beauty of the place.
The housekeeper was an old woman called Beatrice, whose words were stained by an Italian accent. In fact, as she led them inside, she revealed that late Mr. di Angelo had employed her shortly before his first marriage, so that his wife would have someone to talk to in her native language.
âHe loved her so much,â she said. âThat although she was an Omega and he an Alpha, he took her name. Come, Iâll show you the gallery with the family portraits.â
âI met him once,â Artemis said later on, as they stopped in front of a paint of late Mr. di Angelo. âHe always looked so stoic.â
Will thought the same of his son. They looked like one another, and even in the portrait, Mr. di Angelo wore dark clothes.
âHe did, didnât he?â Beatrice said, tilting her head to the side. Melancholic joy shone between the tears in her eyes. âI remember when Bianca was born, and how happy they were.â
Next was a family portrait, in which Mr. di Angelo was only a baby, laying in his crib with the rest of the family around it. Will remained in front of it for a longer time, even when the others had moved on. His aunt called him out.
âAre you having baby fever, dear?â She asked teasingly, poking him in the belly. âShould we expect any surprise?â
Will only blushed.
Bianca di Angelo and her brother shared many qualities, such as their eyes. Beatrice confirmed as much.
âItâs strange sometimes, to walk here and see all their faces, when only one is left,â she said. âI look at him, and I can see Bianca, Maria and Hades, too. Itâs a heavy luggage to carry, for only one person.â
A knot tightened Willâs throat. Even if he wanted, he couldnât find it in himself to talk.
They passed by another section, that had portraits of Mr. di Angeloâs second wife, Miss Levesque. She looked much like her daughter, which Beatrice said wasnât as good a thing, as she had gone through a bad time after her pregnancy.
âShe was happy when she was expecting,â she told them. âBut afterwards, she couldnât find such joy in anything else. She wanted other children, but her health was too frail, and Mr. di Angelo had to refuse her. It broke her heart.â
Late Mr. di Angeloâs wife was called Persephone. She was still alive, as Will knew, and spent most of her time with her mother, although she sometime came back, to make sure that the children were doing well.
In the last section were portraits of only the children.
âBianca was beautiful,â Artemis said. âBut what I liked the most about her, was her cleverness.â
âYou knew her, madam?â Beatrice asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.
Although he didnât see himself, Will knew he wore the same expression.
âShe visited London with her father, not long before she passed,â Artemis replied. âShe wanted to work with the Hunters of Diana, when she was older.â
Beatrice shook her head. âSuch a tragedy.â
Will stopped in front of a painting of Mr. di Angelo, made not too long ago, he could tell. He recognized the style, as he had seen it already.
âIs this Hazelâs painting?â He asked.
Beatrice nodded. âDo you know her, sir?â
âI met her in Rosings in June,â Will said. âBut I already knew her brother, from when he visited Meryton.â
âTell me, is he as handsome as he is in these paintings?â Artemis asked.
Beatrice chuckled, stating that he was. Artemisâ eyes stayed on Will, and if her smile was anything to go by, his blush was answer enough for her.
 Lastly, Beatrice brought them to the library, but Will was lost in the way. A slow melody played on the violin reached his ears, and as a fool he followed it. Since he was always behind them, his companions didnât even notice.
The door was left ajar. In the air lingered a familiar scent, sweet. Only when he noticed, did Will know that he was hoping for another. He stumbled back, but Hazelâs melody didnât even falter.
Will turned, and before he knew it, he was on the balcony, and then down to the connected stairs. He passed through the gardens, breathing in the scent of fresh flowers. He closed his eyes, turning his face to the sun, and leaning back against a column.
The distinct sound of a carriage trained by horses shook Will from his peace. Was it Artemisâ? No, they had left it at the inn, and come by foot. So he walked again, and reached the front of the house, to see the carriage being taken away, and Artemis, Hippolytus and Beatrice talking to a man.
The doors opened to reveal Hazel, her gown in her hand, the brightest of smiles on her face, as she called her brotherâs name. Not that Will was surprised in the least to see that it was Mr. di Angelo.
Artemis gestured for Will to come closer, and he did, although the ground was spinning under his feet, and there was nothing anchoring him to reality.
Mr. di Angelo let his sister down, as Artemis presented Will as her brotherâs son. Mr. di Angeloâs eyebrows shot up, as Hazel greeted Will, squeezing his hands. Mr. di Angelo was wearing a loose-fitting white shirt, that left most of his shoulders and collarbones exposed. Will looked away with a blush.
âItâs been so long,â Hazel told him, as they went back inside, hooking an arm in his and one in her brotherâs. âHow is your family doing?â
Will nodded, completely transfixed on the patterns on the floor.
âWilliam?â She called him. When he startled, she looked over at her brother.
Mr. di Angelo had an eyebrow raised, as he always had, and seemed very stoic. Will wanted to shake him, and see the man behind the statue, the one that had written him the letter that had kept him awake for several nights.
âIâm sorry, I was distracted,â he said. âCould you repeat, please?â
Hazel chuckled. âI was asking about your family.â
âThey are doing fine,â Will said. âMy sister Piper has returned to London, and in the next few days Mitchell will return from Brighton. In three days I will return home, too.â
âIâm afraid I may have changed your plans,â Mr. di Angelo said. âI have invited Miss Solace to fish in our lake. You are welcome to join us, of course.â
âFishing is boring,â Hazel cut in. âI will show William the gardens.â
They stopped in the parlor, where Mr. di Angelo called a servant to bring tea.
âMy older sister spoke highly of the Hunters,â Mr. di Angelo told Artemis. âYou may know my cousin, Thalia Grace. She works with you, now.â
Artemis nodded. âOf course. She is brilliant. And she left for Meryton, too, didnât she?â
âShe did,â Mr. di Angelo told her. His eyes flickered to Will. âShe and Mrs. Jackson are thinking of returning during the Autumn, but I donât think they will want Mr. Jackson, Mr. Grace nor me, too.â
âYou should,â Will said.
Mr. di Angelo blushed, or something close to it.
 Will didnât see Mr. di Angelo the following day, as he had already left the estate to prepare the boat. A butler walked Artemis and Hippolytus to the docks, so that they could reach him.
âWhen dad was still alive, they used to go fishing together,â Hazel told him. âI never joined them, but sometimes Percy and his father did.â
âYour brother wanted to be a merchant, didnât he?â Will said, recalling the letter.
Hazel giggled. âHe did. How did you know?â
Will blushed, but lied easily. âHe told me.â
They laid a blanket to sit on in the grass, opening the basket Hazel had stuffed with food.
âHe was a sweetheart when he was little. Your youngest brother is only seven, am I right?â
Will nodded. âHe hasnât presented, but we know heâll be an Omega. His scent is so sweet. Mr. Caesar knows it, too.â
âHe is your fatherâs heir, isnât he?â
âOh, yes. My step-mother is already lost in desperation over it.â
âIt must be so hard, knowing your house wonât be yours forever,â she said. âEspecially if you still have children as young as your brother Jonathan.â
Will hadnât thought about it that way. But as he did, for the first time, he wished to never have to feel what Aphrodite had, when she had married his father, only to then realize how frail their stability was.
 Being tired, Will had chosen to leave for the inn early. He and Hazel separated at the door, with the newly made promise of writing.
âWilliam.â
Will startled, looking behind himself, where Artemis, Hippolytus and Mr. di Angelo were coming from. Mr. di Angelo didnât smile, but his shoulders relaxed, and so did his face.
âMay I see you to the village?â Mr. di Angelo asked him.
Willâs heart skipped a beat, or maybe more. âNo, no! Iâm very fond of walking.â
âYes, I know.â He hesitated for a moment, and opened his mouth as if he were about to say more, but changed his mind the last second. âI know.â
Will nodded, and took a step back. âGoodbye, then.â
Mr. di Angelo nodded without a word, his jaw closed so tightly a muscle jumped. Willâs eyes stayed on him longer than they should have, as his words echoed in his mind, with nothing to stop them.
You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Will couldnât find it in himself to forgive Mr. di Angelo for the pain he had admitted loving him caused, as though Will were some unlovable creature.
 When Will reached the inn, he was surprised to find a letter for himself from his sister Piper. He opened it when he was already in bed. He read it once, then three other times, but it still wasnât enough to make sense of the words written. Before he knew it, he was crying.
Willâs thoughts went to his family, and when he cried about them enough, his mind went to Mr. di Angelo, and how he would never see him again, as a man of his standing would never mix with one whose Omega brother had run away from home. After all, it seemed that Mitchell had really managed to throw away the good name of the family.
 When Will heard the sound of a carriage outside, he quickly moved downstairs, crumbled letter in his hands. Artemis was talking to Hippolytus, and of course Mr. di Angelo was with them, because somehow he had acquired extremely good-manners in the time Will hadnât seen him.
Artemis talked to him, but Will didnât hear a word, only trusted the letter in her hands. Hippolytus asked what was happening, and so did Mr. di Angeloâs confused brow, but Will couldnât bring himself to talk, he wasnât even sure he still had a voice.
âOh, dear goodness,â she said, her arm going around Willâs waist. She bared her neck, and Will didnât have to think twice before letting the scent envelope him. âThereâs been a problem with one of his siblings.â
Will turned to Mr. di Angelo. He would have felt like a liar and a hypocrite to keep it, when he had been told so much about the otherâs life. âMitchell ran away with Lawrence.â
Mr. di Angelo paled, taking a step closer and raising his hands, dropping them again when he realized he didnât know where to put them. He looked so utterly lost in that conflict, Will would have laughed.
Shame curled in Willâs chest. He wished Mr. di Angelo hadnât come, so Willâs last memory of him would have been that of him in the gardens in front of Pemberley, with the sun shining on him, when, with only one step, Will would have reached him. Now he felt far, far away.
âTomorrow you will bring Will home,â Artemis told Hippolytus. âIâll reach my brother in London, see what we can do.â
Sometime later, when he was in bed about to fall asleep, Will realized that he didnât remember going upstairs, nor bidding Mr. di Angelo goodbye. He almost wished he did.
 As expected of her, Mrs. Solace was utterly heartbroken. She cried and cried. Her son was lost forever, and her late-husband would never forgive her. Jonathan didnât understand what was happening, and Piper and Will tried to keep him and the others out of the house as much as they could. However, they could only find a resemblance of peace when they were together under the furs, a pile of limbs and familiar scents.
Some days later, Apollo returned. Jonathan jumped in his arms as soon as he got out of the carriage, and their father scented him thoroughly. He took Piper in his arms, too. Will watched from the door, too afraid to walk out.
âYou didnât find them,â Will stated.
Apollo let go of Piper, but he kept Jonathan close. As he opened the mouth to reply, the door opened behind Will, revealing Austin.
âSo?â He asked. âWhere is Mitchell?â
âLetâs go inside,â Apollo said, rubbing his eyes, under which dark circles aged his face. Â
Will exchanged a look with Piper. Apollo would have already talked if there had been good news. They went upstairs, and Mrs. Solace wailed again when she saw her husband, only stopping when he sat beside her on the bed, caressing her neck.
âWe almost found them,â he said. Willâs heart stopped. âThey rented an apartment in the outskirts of London, but when we arrived they had already left.â
âWhat did he want from Mitchell?â Lacy asked. âWhy couldnât he wait to marry him properly?â
Will sighed, moving closer to his sister and putting his arms around her from behind. Truth be told, he didnât know either. Mr. Lawrence had known that they werenât rich, Mitchell didnât have Hazelâs dowry. With them, he wouldnât find much. If he married Mitchell at all, that would be the real surprise.
âHeâs lost,â Mrs. Solace said. She hid under the furs, wailing loudly. âMy boy, my poor boy.â
 For almost another week, the house mourned Mitchell (and also their good name).
âI canât believe he escaped,â muttered Lacy several times, leaning with her shoulder against the corridor as Will was passing.
Will, knowing well that she didnât even know she was talking out loud, walked past her. Drew caught his forearm, dragging him in the parlor with her, where she was just waiting for another victim.
âIf we say that he diedââ she started in a low tone.
âNo,â Will said firmly.
ââas if you havenât thought about that, too.â
Will sighed. âI really havenât, and you should stop.â
âI donât believe you.â
âAs you didnât the first thirty times I told you.â
Drew rolled her eyes, hissing something under her breath, probably a plot against Willâs life. Calling every last bit of patience he still had, Will maintained his calm, and quietly walked away, only to be too quiet, and cause Austin to not hear him, and run into him.
âAre you a ghost or something?â Austin asked, rubbing his head. âI didnât even hear you.â
Just a day or two prior, Piper had asked Will why he had been so silent lately, also stating he didnât look much like himself. Not to give her any more heartbreak, Will used Mitchellâs situation as an excuse for his perturbation. And he was thinking of a man, it just wasnât Mitchell, nor Mr. Lawrence. He thought that he wanted to know more about Mr. di Angelo, and dance with him again, in a situation that he could enjoy, unlike the first time. He also thought about Hazel, and how their friendship had already come to an end.
âWhat were you even running for?â Will asked, helping Austin up.
Austin lightened, clapping his hands. âPost!â He exclaimed, grabbing Willâs hand. âFrom aunt Artemis.â Austin didnât let go of him, running to the garden, where Mr. Solace was, standing alone under the sun.
A window opened from above as he read, for Mrs. Solace stuck her head out.
âWhat were you two running for?â She shouted. âNo running in the house!â
âWe are in the garden!â Austin responded.
Will scuffed his brother in the head. âThereâs a letter from aunt Artemis!â
Mrs. Solace shrieked, calling the other children to the garden. As she disappeared from the window, Austin turned to remember her not to run in the house with a loud shout.
The door opened, Kayla and Piper falling to the ground, Lacy stopping just before she walked on them, as Drew snickered out loud, nudging Piperâs foot with her own. Mrs. Solace didnât notice them, and stumbled on Kaylaâs legs.
âDear,â she said, putting her hands on her hips. âWhat are you doing on the ground when we may finally know of your brotherâs future?â
âAnd ours!â Drew said. âWe are one step from falling into utter disgrace, remember?â
Mr. Solace laughed, loud and clear. âOh, dear.â Attention shifted back to him, as he shook his head. The shadows that had been on his face for days finally left, leaving him in a state of utter delight. âThey will marry, if I pay him ÂŁ132 every year.â
âThatâs so little,â Piper said, smoothing her gowns, as Mrs. Solace clapped in absolute delight.
âYour aunt must have paid him something already,â Mr. Solace said. âI doubt he would have married your brother, had it been otherwise.â
Mrs. Solace gasped. âWhy would you say something so unromantic? If they ran away together, they must love each other! Mitchell is beautiful and charming, who wouldnât want to marry him?â
âDoes she know the same Mitchell as I do?â Drew asked Will.
âDrew,â Piper hissed.
âThereâs no need to say the things we are already thinking out loud, dear,â Mr. Solace reprimanded her. âIf youâll excuse me, I must write back immediately. Unless my dearest wife thinks thereâs no need to reassure him with our money, and that I should just let them be. After all, they love each other.â
 The carriage stopped in front of Longbourn House. Mitchell acted as the star of a parade, waving at them delightfully. Jonathan was the only one who waved back.
âI canât believe he did this to us,â Austin whispered, his lips tugged downwards. âHe would have thrown us all in the dirt to have â have fun with that man.â
Lacyâs hand reached for his, her hold so tight his knuckles turned white. He didnât seem to mind, only dropping his head on her shoulder, as uncomfortable as it was, since he was much taller than her.
âWe only need to get through today,â Will said. âThen we can forget all about this.â
âMitchell is married,â Kayla said. âWe canât forget. Heâs â heâs lost, mother was right.â
âHe was lost long before this,â Piper cut in. âHe was lost when all he did was flirting with officers and spend his time idly lazing around.â
The matter was dropped, as their parents were done talking to the spouses, and it was their turn to greet them.
Mitchell showed them his ring several times, and uncovered his neck for them to see Mr. Lawrenceâs bites. Each time, Will nodded, smiling tightly, acting like his heart wasnât breaking, and shivers werenât running down his spine, despite the temperature. If his siblingsâ expressions were anything to go by, he wasnât alone in the act.
The one who felt more at fault was Piper. She wasnât only the oldest of the family, but also Mitchellâs oldest by blood. Whereas Kayla and Austin still tended to turn to Will first for counsel, the McLeans went to Piper first.
Mr. Lawrence remained inside with their parents, while Mitchell joined the siblings in the garden. Even in his mind, Will had already started referring to him as Mitchell instead of brother, his instincts recognizing the change in his scent. He was Mitchell, but he wasnât Willâs Mitchell. Separation hit wolves hard, even if packs werenât formally stated, hadnât been since before medieval times.
Lacy sat on the swing, Kayla cuddling beside her.
âYou will want to avoid doing that, if you want to look adult enough for a husband,â Mitchell said.
Piper opened his mouth to reply, and so did Will, ready to cut Mitchell off before the youngers stared believing him, but Austin did it first.
âI donât even want to know the things you did to get that husband,â he said.
Something like hurt flashed in Mitchellâs eyes, but it was quickly replaced with anger. âI wonât tell you anything, as you are, and will always be, my younger and jealous brother.â
Austin slumped against the tree, shaking his head, and looking utterly defeated.
âYou should have come up for my wedding,â Mitchell said. âIt would have been even funnier with all of you there. Iâm the third oldest, and the first to marry.â
Drew outright scoffed, and Will pinched her side. Whatever had happened, they couldnât change it, even if they cursed Mitchell out. Drew was being courted by Lou Ellen, Lacy was âsecretlyâ talking to Artemis about joining the Hunters, Austin had dreams of touring with his music, and Kayla sometimes was keen on joining him. Who knew when they would all be together again!
âMr. di Angelo said we didnât have time to bring you all up there,â Mitchell continued, and then covered his mouth, as though it could put the words back in.
Will startled. âMr. di Angelo?â He asked.
His siblings probably did the same, but the world around him was spinning, and he was numb to everything, except for Mitchellâs next words.
âHe was there. He is friends with Bryce, he told me. Heâs the last person before Bryce talked to before proposing to me. I swore to secrecy, though. For some reason, he didnât want anyone to know he was there.â
#solangelo#solangelo fic#solangelo au#pride and prejudice au#omegaverse#slow burn#slow build#will solace#nico di angelo
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8/27 Book Deals
Good morning, everyone! Itâs been a little while since Iâve managed to get a deals post up, so I apologize for that, but Iâm back to share some awesome books on sale (finally)! I would personally recommend Down Among the Sticks and Bones, The Hazel Wood, and The Dragon Reborn (although thatâs #3 in the Wheel of Time series, so youâd definitely need to check out the first two, first :) ).
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love is all around // kristanna modern au one shot // t for innuendo, fluffy af, 3.8k
Anna is not looking forward to being stuck on a plane for four hours.
And then her seat neighbor turns out to be a giant Scandinavian man with gorgeous eyes who lets her hold onto him when she gets nervous about the plane taking off.
Maybe this flight won't be so bad after all.
{shoutout to @reindeersweaters for the prompt!}
Why, Anna thought irritably, do I always get stuck in a middle seat?
At least she was the first one there in her row, so she had a chance to get settled before she said goodbye to elbow room for the next four hours. She was in the middle middle seat, too, right in the center of the plane so she couldnât even get a peek out the window. As she pulled out her phone, flicking through her Netflix downloads, she felt someone sit next to her and inwardly groaned; she could tell just from the glimpse she got out of the corner of her eye that it was someone huge.Â
She dared a more blatant glance and, to her surprise, saw that her new neighbor was looking back.Â
âHello,â he said, his voice surprisingly soft, with a slight accent she couldnât quite place. âSorry if I bumped into you just then.â
âNo trouble,â she breathed, when what she wanted to say was bump into me any time.Â
He offered her a small, lopsided smile, and she felt her heart skip a beat; when he turned his attention back to the massive book in his hands, she kept her gaze on him for just a moment, trying to figure out what it was exactly that made him so damn attractive. His hair was definitely part of it, all blond and shaggy, and so was the stubble that darkened his jaw. His nose, too, was the sort of nose you wanted to kiss all over, but that still wasnât quite it, and if she kept staring he was going to notice, and so instead she returned her focus to her phone screen.Â
Her sister had just texted her, and she opened the message quickly, hoping to fire off a response before she had to turn on airplane mode.Â
Hope you donât get caught in the storms. Canât wait to see you! Lots of love.Â
And, right on cue, because nothing in Annaâs life could go right today, the PA system crackled on, and the pilot announced the plane would be grounded for at least an hour to avoid the lightning.Â
She couldnât hold back her groan as she flopped back in her seat, and the man next to her shot her an amused glance. It was his eyes, she realized, that made him so handsome; they were the most lovely shade between hazel and chestnut brown, and soft somehow, full of warmth even as he looked at the stranger next to him throwing a temper tantrum.Â
âSorry,â she mumbled sheepishly, feeling her cheeks grow warm.Â
He grinned at her, slow and crooked again. âNo trouble. Iâm sure weâre all feeling the same way.â
He returned to his book, and she to her phone, finally deciding to watch Love, Actually for the twenty zillionth time. She knew every line by heart and still never got tired of it; it was her comfort movie, and she sure as hell needed some comfort right now. Just as Hugh Grant came on screen, a flight attendant passed down the aisle, and Annaâs gaze instinctively flickered up at the movementâ and her neighborâs flickered away from her screen.Â
She dared to peek at him as he stared resolutely ahead as if he were deep in thought, but when she turned her gaze back to her phone she kept tabs on him out of the corner of her eye. He was definitely watching her screen instead of reading whatever that massive book was. She couldnât blame him; that thing looked terrible.Â
And then a wicked, wicked idea came to her: she went to the menu and turned the subtitles on.Â
This time the peek she dared was bolder, and to her delight, the manâs cheeks were bright red. âI always think movies are so much better when you know what theyâre saying, donât you?â she asked nonchalantly, and his blush deepened.Â
âSorry,â he stammered, âI justâ god, this book is dull, and I saw Liam Neesom so I thought maybe it was an action movie, but thereâs a whole lot of hugging going on for that, so Iââ
She held up one of her earbuds. âYou could have just asked to watch with me.â
That smile was tugging at the corner of his lips again. âMay I?â
âYou may.â
He was an excellent fellow audience member, chuckling under his breath at all the right parts. Just as it was starting to get really good, the PA crackled back to life, and Anna hit pause.Â
âLadies and gentlemen, get ready for takeoff!â
Everyone around her either cheered or let out a sigh of relief, but Anna couldnât help but wince. This was always her least favorite part, even worse than landing. The man, somehow, seemed to notice. âNot to be too forward or anything,â he said as the plane began to move forward and pick up speed, âbut if you get nervous during this part, you can grab my hand. I always did that to my mom when I was a kid.â
âNo, no, Iâm sure Iâll be fine,â Anna reassured him, and then the wheels left the ground with an awfully loud noise that sounded to her like the wings were falling right off, and she let out a little squeak and found herself clinging to his forearm so tightly even he let out a huff of surprise. But he didnât pull away; instead, he met her nervous gaze and said softly, âItâs gonna be okay. Trust me.â
And somehow, she did. She kept her eyes on him as the plane continued to ascend, already rocking with turbulence. âIâm Anna.â
âKristoff.â
âIâd shake your hand, but I think weâre a bit past that point by now,â she said, squeezing his arm for emphasis and trying not to blush again when he realized how muscley he was. Another jolt shuddered through the plane, and her other hand went instinctively to clamp onto his arm as well, the only solid thing she could find. âSorry,â she muttered, but he just shook his head.
âDonât worry about it, Iâm not fragile,â he said with a wink.
At last, the planeâs trajectory started to smooth once more, and she tilted her phone up. âReady to keep watching?â
He nodded, looking genuinely excited. She couldnât help but smile. âHave you really never seen this before? Itâs a classic.â
Kristoff shrugged. âGuess itâs not in Norway.â
âOh-- is that where youâre from?â
âYes, from Stavanger. Iâve lived there my whole life. And you?â
âIâm just from here. Well-- there. Colorado, I mean. Where weâre going.â
âAnna from Colorado,â he said, and the way he said it so carefully made her smile. âItâs nice to meet you.â
âEven though I nearly tore your arm off?â
He grinned. âIâve had worse happen on a flight.â
They watched the movie in companionable silence again, only breaking it when the flight attendant came around with the drink cart. They both got ginger ale-- ânot copying you,â Anna had insisted, and heâd said, âno worries, everyone knows it tastes better on a planeâ, and then they both turned back to the movie with faint smiles.
She kept sneaking little glances at Kristoff, grateful that he really did seem focused on the movie. His eyes-- the color of perfectly brewed tea, sheâd decided-- were intent on the tiny screen, and a little thrill went down her spine when she wondered what it might feel like if he turned that focus on her. Next, she let her gaze trail down his profile, feeling a funny little twinge in her chest as she noticed the freckles peppered over his nose, and wondering again what it would be like to kiss that nose, internally chastising herself for thinking about making out with a stranger just because he was watching her favorite movie with her and had let her hold onto him and had the sweetest eyes sheâd ever seen.
(Who was she kidding? Sheâd kissed guys for worse reasons.)
He shifted a little, and for a moment she was worried heâd noticed her looking, but then she realized he was trying his utmost to angle himself away from her, staying as small as he could in the tiny seat so he wouldnât bump into her-- a nearly impossible feat considering how broad his shoulders were. How had she not noticed that yet? And he had to be tall, too, judging by how his knees were crammed up against the seat in front of him.
âKristoff?â
He tore his eyes away from Keira Knightley doing something Keira Knightley-esque. âHmm?â
âItâs okay if you bump into me some. Iâm, umâŚâ She trailed off, feeling herself blush as he did, in fact, meet her gaze with that intense look in his eyes. âIâm littler than you. So Iâm not taking up all the space. Already sharing my phone, right? Might as well share my seat. But no getting mad if I fall asleep on you.â
âWouldnât dream of it,â he said, a relieved look on his face when he shifted slightly so he wasnât so crammed into the tiny space. His knees bumped his tray table, nearly spilling the remnants of his ginger ale, and he flushed slightly. âAre you sure you donât mind? I donât want to make you feel squished.â
âAgain, I already squished the life out of your arm. I owe you one.â
There was almost an awkward moment as they decided who would retain control of the armrest between them, but then Anna huffed in frustration and pressed the button, lifting it. Kristoff raised an eyebrow.
âRather have you pressing into me than that, anyway,â she said, immediately turning the same shade of red as her hair when she realized what sheâd just said.
He blushed, too, and they both looked back at the phone screen. Hesitantly, he scooted a little closer towards her, his arm pressing against hers, and she angled herself carefully against him, hoping it seemed like she only did it to make them both more comfortable and not so she could nestle herself against his shoulder (which, as it turned out, felt just as solid and wonderful as his arm.)
She dared another little peek and realized he was smiling-- and that she was, too.
As it got to the bit where Emma Thompson found out her husband (the absolute bastard!) had cheated on her to the strains of Joni Mitchell, Anna felt Kristoff stiffen slightly next to her. Anna looked up at him, more than a bit misty-eyed herself, and saw a sudden sadness in his eyes. He glanced down at her and wordlessly offered her a tissue.Â
âThanks. This part just kind of...hits home,â she admitted.
He nodded. âMe, too.â
She glanced down, feeling bare somehow when he looked at her like that, and realized his knees still looked awfully cramped. âYou can, um, stretch out a little over here if you want. I donât mind.â
âIâm okay, really. Wouldnât want you to end up sitting in my lap-- I mean, not that Iâd mind,â he added hastily, âbut you might.â
It was his turn to blush scarlet. Neither of them looked up again until the credits rolled. Anna peeked at Kristoff and saw he was already looking at her with a small smile.
âSo...did you like it?â she asked shyly.
âYeah. Glad you let me watch with you instead of telling me to stop being a creep.â
She laughed, and his smile broadened. âDonât worry, I could tell you werenât one.â
He leaned closer, just a fraction. âHow could you tell?â
She needed to look away, or else she was going to do something a hell of a lot riskier than letting a stranger hold her phone. âJust could. Here-- mind letting me out to go pee?â
It was the least sexy thing she could think of to say, and it broke the spell. He moved quickly out of her way and stood in the aisle, which immediately put her right back to thinking oh my god how is he so hot?
âJesus-- no wonder you looked so uncomfortable,â she said, the words spilling out before she could stop herself. âHow tall are you?â
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, seeming suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze now. âUm. Six four on a good day.â
âGuess todayâs a very good day, then,â Anna said, turning and quickly going down the aisle before she regretted saying something so bold.
But it was too late; by the time she was washing her hands, she had convinced herself sheâd go back out and find that he had requested to move to another seat. âPull yourself together,â she muttered under her breath, splashing some cold water on her reddened cheeks. âHeâs just some guy on a plane youâll never see again.â
Still, before she left the tiny restroom, sheâd done her best to smooth her hair and curl her eyelashes using her fingers. She nearly stumbled coming back down the aisle as the plane rocked and the âfasten seatbeltâ sign pinged on. And then she did fall as she reached her row, just in time for Kristoff to catch her against his chest as he stood up to let her in.
âSorry,â she stammered, just as he asked, âAll good?â
They both nodded, but neither of them pulled away until the plane jolted again. He let go quickly, but she could still feel the phantom warmth of his hands against her shoulders as she settled back into her seat.Â
âGrab onto me again if you need to,â he said, fastening his seatbelt.
She almost told him sheâd be fine, that this part didnât bother her, but then she noticed that his face had gone a little pale, and so she held out her hand for him, fingers spread. âThatâd be nice,â she said, a little shy even though there was no point to that anymore, really; there was no more pretending that they were still strangers. He laced his fingers through hers, and she couldnât help but notice his hand was almost twice the size of hers. She squeezed it slightly, and Kristoff squeezed back.
âSo, um,â she asked, hoping to distract him from the turbulence and herself from the way her heart had just sped up, âwhat do you do? Like for a job?â
âIâm an adjunct professor. Scandinavian studies, mostly folklore.â
She hadnât expected him to be an academic, but she found she liked the thought of him sitting behind a desk in a cozy office, asking her to close the door behind her as she came in for a private meeting--
Focus, Anna.
âOh, thatâs cool. Is that what the book you were reading was about?â
âYes, itâs an overview of the roles animals play in some of the old fairy tales. Fascinating subject, really, but the author managed to make it boring anyway. Tends to happen with a lot of the research I read. What about you, what do you do for a living?â
âI, um, I write fairy tales. Well, sometimes, kind of. I write childrenâs books. And do the art, sometimes, but Iâm still not very good at that part.â
âAny chance Iâve read anything youâve written?â
âVery funny.â
âNo, Iâm serious. Iâve been focusing on childrenâs stories recently and done quite a lot of field research.â
âUm...now that you mention it, I did do one recently about the polar bear king, but I seriously doubt you would have gotten it over in NorwayâŚâ
His eyes lit up. âAnna Agnardottir?â
She blinked. âOh my god, you really read it?â
âOf course! Anna, itâs won half a dozen awards. Itâs my favorite version of the story Iâve read, and trust me, thatâs saying something. And your paintings--â
She was even redder than she had been before when sheâd made that awkward comment about pressing. âIt-- well-- I just-- um. Iâm glad you liked it.â
âI was thinking about making it required reading for one of the classes Iâm teaching next semester, actually.â
âNow youâre just saying things to be nice.â
âNo, I mean it. What a coincidence, huh? That I ended up getting to sit next to you? Remind me to get your autograph before we go.â
She was saved from coming up with a response by the plane dropping suddenly. A little involuntary gasp escaped her, and she felt Kristoffâs hand tighten around hers. She looked up and saw his jaw was clenched.
âItâs gonna be okay,â she said softly, echoing his earlier words. âTrust me.â
His gaze slid to hers, softening slightly when their eyes met. Neither of them looked away, even when the plane steadied once more, even when his hand loosened around hers and he started running his thumb against hers in a gentle caress.
The pilotâs voice came over the PA system again. âLooks like another couple hours to go, folks, weâll have to circle the city for a while and wait for our turn to land. Sorry for the delay.â
Anna wrinkled her nose. âSeems like the powers that be really donât want this plane to land anytime soon, huh?â
âGuess not,â Kristoff said, but he sounded distracted somehow as he tore his gaze away from her.
âWe can, um, we can watch another movie if you want. Except my phoneâs about to die soon, so--â
âThatâs okay. I, um. Iâm kind of tired.â
She let go of his hand at last, and he looked almost disappointed. âDonât let me bother you, then. Itâs been a long day for us all, huh?â
He leaned back in his seat. âYou havenât been bothering me at all.â
Anna bit her lip. âIâm, um. Iâm kind of tired too. But I forgot my pillow, and since your shoulderâs already kind of here in my space, and weâve really kind of crossed all the normal plane etiquette boundaries, so, um, is it okay if maybe I could--â
A smile played at the corners of his mouth. âYou donât even have to ask. Iâm more than happy to be your personal pillow.â
This time both of them blushed, but she still looped her arm around his, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder as she settled in. She hadnât realized how tired she was until now, when, with her face pressed against the comforting warmth of his shoulder and sweater, she felt just as cozy as she would at home in her own bed.Â
âSleep tight, Kristoff,â she mumbled against the knitted fabric, and she felt him shake slightly against her as he let out a rumbly little laugh.
âSweet dreams, Anna,â he said softly, and even though sheâd known him for all of four hours she couldnât help but wonder what it would feel like to hear that every night for the rest of her life.
She didnât wake up again until the wheels of the plane hit the ground; she jolted upright, nearly slamming her face into Kristoffâs chin. She would have if he hadnât jumped suddenly, too; their eyes met, and they both flushed slightly as they realized that somehow his arm had migrated around her shoulders and that her head had been nestled against his chest.Â
âSorry--â they both started at the same time, and then both of them grinned as they realized neither of them felt particularly sorry at all.Â
They both lingered as the aisles filled with people who, unlike them, were eager to get off the plane. A four-hour flight turning into a seven-hour one suddenly felt a lot less like a huge misfortune, and Anna found herself wishing that one last storm might just hit and hold them up a little longer. Then Kristoff was standing, pulling away from her so he could grab a suitcase from the overhead bin and hand it carefully to the little old lady across the aisle.
âThank you so much, young man,â she said with a twinkling smile. âI hope you and your wife there have a pleasant rest of your day. You two remind me of my husband and I, you know, God rest his soul.â
âIâŚâ Kristoff said, glancing back at Anna. A little smile tugged at his lips. âThank you, maâam, we appreciate that.â
He helped her with her bag, too, before getting his own, and for a moment they just stood in the aisle looking at each other.
âWell,â he said softly. âIt was certainly nice meeting you today, Anna.â
âYou, too,â she said, shy again. âI, um. I hope you enjoy your time in Colorado. When are you flying back to Stavanger?â
âOh, not for a while, Iâd imagine,â he said, that lopsided smile growing on his face. âIâve just taken a job with the University of Colorado.â
âThat-- that wouldnât happen to be the one in Boulder, would it?â
Somehow his smile grew even more. âIt would.â
Someone cleared their throat, and they both looked up to see that the flight attendants were trying to clean the cabin. They shuffled quickly through the aisle and to the jet bridge; Anna nearly tripped over the wheels of her suitcase when she looked up at him again. âSo-- um-- if you still want my autographâŚâ
âDefinitely. For research purposes, of course.â
âWell, I might be persuaded to give you my number along with it.â
They reached the baggage claim area, and he immediately fumbled through his pockets for a pen. Neither of them had any paper, so he pulled the massive book from his backpack and held it out to her. She signed her name with a flourish, dotting the âiâ with a heart, and wrote her number carefully beneath it.Â
Kristoff grinned at it and slid the book into his bag so he could hold out his hand to her. She took it gladly. âSo,â he began, those beautiful brown eyes sparkling as he looked down at her, âif youâre not too busy, I think maybe I might put that number to use tomorrow night.â
âI guess I could make time in my schedule.â
âMovie date?â
She squeezed his hand. âPerfect.â
He helped her wheel her bag out to the front and set off in search of a taxi for himself. Elsa came running over, arms already held out for a hug. Anna caught her with a laugh. âMissed you, too.â
Elsa held onto her tightly, letting out a relieved sigh. âWhat bad luck hitting all that shitty weather, huh?â she said with a sympathetic grimace.Â
Anna looked across the arrivals hall, sighting a pair of honey-brown eyes that were already watching as their owner made his way back over to her. She grinned, and so did he.Â
âNah, not so bad after all.â
----
thank you @gabiwnomagic @faerytold @somecallmejohn @kristoffbjorg and @romanticsanders for your help getting this done!
#kristoff is a professor#anna is a childrens book author/illustrator#snuggling is involved#kristanna#my fics#liaa
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Three Year Anniversary Portraits!
Del Sol Valley
Name: Harrison James Mitchell, Mr. President
Nickname: Harry
Title: President of Del Sol Valley
Previous Names/ Titles: Mr. Harrison Mitchell
Residence(s): Soleil House, Del Sol Valley
Parents: Mr. Ezra & Mrs. Audrey Mitchell
Spouse: Hazel Mitchell, Madame First Lady
Children: Jay & Eva Mitchell
Name: Hazel Marion Mitchell, Madame First Lady
Nickname: N/A
Title: First Lady of Del Sol Valley
Previous Names/ Titles: Mrs. Hazel Mitchell, Miss Hazel Thomas
Residence(s): Soleil House, Del Sol Valley
Parents: Mr. Raymond (Passed) & Mrs. Lavender Thomas
Spouse: Harrison Mitchel, Mr. President
Children: Jay & Eva Mitchell
Name: Jay Harrison Mitchell
Nickname: N/A
Title: N/A
Previous Names/ Titles: N/A
Residence(s): Soleil House, Del Sol Valley
Parents: President Harrison & First Lady Hazel Mitchell
Spouse: N/A
Children: N/A
Name: Eva Marie Mitchell
Nickname: N/A
Title: N/A
Previous Names/ Titles: N/A
Residence(s): Soleil House, Del Sol Valley
Parents: President Harrison & First Lady Hazel Mitchell
Spouse: N/A
Children: N/A
#ivanov legacy#ts4#ts4 simblr#ts4 legacy#three year anniversary#president harrison mitchell#first lady hazel mitchell#jay mitchell#eva mitchell
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30 Rockâs Best Running Jokes
https://ift.tt/eA8V8J
When 30 Rock drew its final breath in 2013, yards of column inches were devoted â deservedly so â to praising the work of creator Tina Fey. Article upon article applauded the characters, cast, performances and seven seasons of energetic, inventive, satirical comedy.
More than anything else though, 30 Rock was always about the gags. It was fruitcake-dense with jokes, regularly fitting in more quotable laughs before its opening credits than many shows manage in a full half-hour. As it returns for a one-off reunion special, join us in celebrating the many, many running gags of its seven-season history, from the fake movies, to the terrible yet incredibly catchy songs, Frankâs hats, and those godawful TGS sketchesâŚ
The fake moviesÂ
The presence of Tracy Jordan (a bonafide Martin Lawrence meets the Wayans Brothers-style movie star) in the TGS cast opened up the world of film parody to 30 Rock.
Admittedly Jenna Maloney also enjoyed a movie career of sorts, but while she was being offered the part of âany blonde actressâ in torture porn flicks by the producers who watched and rented Saw, Tracy was turning down the lead in Garfield 3: Feline Groovy to pursue his serious acting career. The latter climaxed with the release of spot-on Precious parody Hard To Watch (Based on the novel Stone Cold Bummer by Manipulate), for which Tracy received the O in his EGOT plan. Sheer class.
Over the years though, who couldnât not smile at Tracyâs blaxpoitation-filled back catalogue, from the timeless romance of A Blaffair to Rememblack, to Sherlock Homie, Who Dat Ninja?, The Chunks 2: A Very Chunky Christmas, and last but by no means least, Honky Grandma Be Trippinâ. The man is a chameleon (in that heâs always a lizard).
Two of Jennaâs TGS projects however, bring back the fondest memories of 30 Rockâs stinging movie satire: small-town legal drama The Rural Juror (based on a Kevin Grisham novel), and her GE-produced life rights-avoiding Janis Joplin biopic, Sing Them Blues White Girl: The Jackie Jormp Jomp Story.
The TGS sketchesÂ
The quality of TGSâ output was never under question in 30 Rock; the sketch show was unremittingly bad (when the absence of their star meant a âBest of TGSâ series had to be run in lieu of live shows, Legal objected to their use of the word âBestâ, and when a review dubbed it the worst comedy ever made, Liz was thrilled theyâd defined it as a comedy). Liz Lemonâs opus was a fluorescent collection of fart gags, dodgy caricatures, Jennaâs songs, and misjudged celebrity impressions.
Beginning life as, in Kennethâs words, âa real fun ladies comedy show for ladiesâ, TGS was Saturday Night Liveâs idiot brother, the unsophisticated thorn in NBCâs side, under constant threat of controversy and cancellation. Forced to synergise backward overflow, advertise parent company products and promote GE interests, 30 Rockâs show-within-a-show satirised both the TV industry and tired trends in comedy (the always hilarious combination of a fat woman whoâs sexually confident! Old ladies are crazy! Farts!).
Lemon may have seduced pilot Carol (Matt Damon) with her Fart Doctor skits, but TGS failed to win many hearts. With sketches like Pam the Overly Confident Morbidly Obese Woman, Ching-Chong Man Who Loves to Play Ping-Pong, Fat Hillary Clinton, Bear vs. Killer Robots, Me Want Food, and Gaybraham Lincoln, why it wasnât more successful is a mystery.
Astronaut Mike DexterÂ
Lemon may have ended up with James Marsdenâs Criss Chros, but fictional boyfriend Astronaut Mike Dexter will always hold a special place in her heart. Handsomer than Dr Drew, less British than Wesley Snipes, less living-in-Cleveland than Floyd, and a million times better than Dennis Duffy, Astronaut Mike Dexter had it all⌠except of course, a corporeal self.Â
The fake songsÂ
Over the years, Jenna Maroneyâs singing career has vomited up some truly dreadful creations, and topping the list has to be Muffin Top (a big hit in the king-making music markets of Israel and Belgium). Seguing from its pop insanity chorus âMy muffin top is all that, wholegrain, low-fatâ into a Madonna-style spoken-word rap âIâm an independent lady, so please donât try to play me. I run a tidy bakery. The boys all want my cake for freeâ, the song is a battery assault on the senses.
But is it worse than Jennaâs summer dance jam, Balls, which earned her the princely sum of $50 in royalties? Or her computer generated, generic benefit song in aid of an unspecific natural disaster, which urged viewers to donate to âhelp the people the thing that happened, happened toâ? How about the Jackie Jormp Jomp performance she gave of Chunk Of My Lung, written by Jack five minutes before the show, containing the classic line âYou know youâve bought it if life makes you sweet foodâ? Or Fart So Loud, the un-Weird Al-able song she and Tracy wrote after he parodied the theme to Avery Jessup TV movie Kidnapped? Such richesâŚ
Itâs not only Jenna whoâs provided 30 Rockâs musical intervals of course. Season three finale Kidney Now! welcomed an eclectic collection of stars including Sheryl Crow, Mary J Blige, Elvis Costello, Moby, two of the Beastie Boys, Wyclef Jean, and Cyndi Lauper to perform a We Are The World-style anthem at the Milton Green benefit gig. Angie Jordan famously released a fifteen-second single My Single Is Dropping, to ride on the wave of her reality-show fame, Frank and Peteâs Sound Mound came up with unforgettable rock anthem Weekend Woman, and in the very same episode, even Tina Fey got in on the action by providing excellent Joni Mitchell parody, Paints and Brushes.
The legacy award though, as in the 30 Rock fake song that will continue to bring joy to the hearts of fans decades from now, has to go to one song, and one song only: Tracy Jordanâs Werewolf Bar Mitzvah.
Frankâs hat slogansÂ
Off-set, stand-up Judah Friedlander favours his âWorld Championâ trucker hat, the one he claims to have been awarded as the winner of the World Championships of pretty much all sports, martial arts, and that time he karate kicked Chuck Norrisâ beard off his face and forced him to legally change his name to Charles.
On-set as Frank Rossitano though, Friedlander wears a series of self-designed trucker hats, each bearing a different gnomic slogan. Often incongruous, sometimes suggestive, and always odd, Frankâs hat slogans are part of the bricks and mortar of 30 Rock. In terms of favourites, weâre quite fond of âAlabama Legsweepâ, or the laconic enigma of âAndâ, though âShark Copâ, âHalf Centaurâ and âSpace Gravyâ also caught our eye over the seasons.
Jennaâs Mickey Rourke sex storiesÂ
Like Dot Comâs intellectualism, this running gag may have been introduced late into proceedings, but Jennaâs torrid sexual history with putty-faced beefcake Mickey Rourke gave J-Mo some of her best lines. Jennaâs allusions to Rourkeâs sexually deviant and murderous attempts on her life paint a fascinating picture for 30 Rock fans. Here are some of the finest:
âYour new vibe is a double-edged sword, much like the kind Mickey Rourke tried to kill me withâ, âNice try Hazel, but you made the same mistake Mickey Rourke made on that catamaran. You didnât kill me when you had the chance.â, âIâm going to have to reinvent you. Break you down completely and build you up from scratch. Just like Mickey Rourke did to me sexually.â âNext time youâll tell me Mickey Rourke catapulted you into the Hollywood sign.â âYou know what they say, if you canât stand the heat, get off Mickey Rourkeâs sex grill.â Wise words.
Kenneth the immortal pageÂ
To this day Kenneth Ellen Parcell remains something of an enigma to 30 Rock viewers. In later seasons, Jack McBrayerâs character went from being a simple country rube from Stone Mountain, Georgia to the flesh vessel for a mysterious immortal with no reflection, no age, and links to a world beyond our own.
Plenty of reference has been made to Kennethâs ageless and supernatural state over the years, including the suggestion that not only is he unable to die, but heâs also an angel, sent to oversee the transition of souls from one world to the next.
The fake TV showsÂ
Itâs either a credit to the 30 Rock team or a condemnation of our times that Jack Donaghyâs hit reality viewer vote show, MILF Island, no longer feels like a parody. In generations to come, time will no doubt erode the boundaries between fact and fiction, and we 30 Rock fans will be telling our kids about the time we watched Deborah beat her competitors and claim MILF victory in the same breath as educating them about those people who ate kangaroo anuses for public approval.
MILF Island stands head and shoulders above the rest of 30 Rockâs fake TV shows (including TGS itself, lest we not forget), but that doesnât mean that Gold Case, Los Amantes Clandestinos, Black Frasier, Homonym, or the inimitable Bitch Hunter deserve any less respect. Our fallen brothers, we salute you.
We could go on indefinitely listing the recurring jokes that made 30 Rock great, from Lizâs sandwich lust and desire to go to there, to Jackâs gloriously thatched head of hair and Republican conspiracies. As the show prepares to return, which of the above will live again?
30 Rock: A One-Time Special lands on NBC on Thursday July 16th at 8pm in the US.
The post 30 Rockâs Best Running Jokes appeared first on Den of Geek.
from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2WjIevB
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not so typical love song - ch. 1/13
Chapter Title: Rollarcoaster
Words: 3,050
Note:Â my piece for the @pjo-hoo-bigbang !!! special thanks to @shelbychild and @wisdom-walks-alone for editing and helping me develop this story! it wouldnt exist w/o yâall!
Art by @lizzybizzyo! <3
[ one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight (coming soon)]
read on ao3
â
Nico is staring at his computer, wordless. This isn't writer's block or surprise; itâs just the unknown reality of what this situation could lead to.
Another gay kid in his school. Another gay kid that isnât Mitchellâwhoâs been out since 8th grade, and the only one to be out since then. Another kid at their school whoâs hiding a secret.Â
Nico doesnât even know if this kid is a boy or a girl or what, and frankly, he doesnât care. Thereâs another kid like him. And he has no idea how to respond to the post.
The post is a submission from their schoolâs gossip blog on Tumblr, the notorious âhb-secrets.â Piper had called him an hour ago, asking if heâd seen it yet.
âSeen what?â he had responded.
âThe post on hb-secrets? About the closeted gay kid?â It hit Nico like a wall of bricks as he quickly went to pull up the website. Did somebody know? It was a relief when he saw the clipart Ferris wheel and a few short lines submitted by a blog called blue0919.
âI bet itâs that Brazilian sophomore. Paolo or whatever? Or maybe itâs Connor Stoll! I swear heâs been flirting with Mitchell, but Annabeth keeps telling me that heâs into Lacy or someone,â Piper continued as he read, but it was going in one ear and out the other as he processed the words on the screen
Sometimes I feel like Iâm stuck on a Ferris wheel. One minute Iâm on top of the world, and the next minute Iâm at rock bottom. Over and over all day long, because a lot of my life is great. But nobody knows Iâm gay.
âGotta go. Iâll talk later,â Nico said quickly, switching off his phone. He knew it would raise suspicion, but it felt like time was turning in on itself. Nobody knew about Nico. In fact, nobody ever even suspected. Heâs never been called names besides âDeath Boy.â And yet, there were the exact words that described his life, written out in front of him like they were a second thought.
And now, he was staring at his computer with an empty Gmail draft open. The original poster had left their email at the end of the post, so Nico after glancing quickly at his Panic! at the Disco poster still proudly hanging on his wall, typed out a new address. He was stuck, though, unsure of what to say from here.Â
So, he started from the beginning.
From: [email protected]
Date: Oct 2 at 6:48 PM
Subject: Hey
Somehow youâve managed to type exactly what I feel. Sorta scary, as if youâre inside my head or something. Maybe itâs just a gay thing to be speaking in metaphors about the pressure of everyday society.
Thatâs what I am. Gay. I donât know if Iâve ever really said it out loud to myself.
Itâs weird because I never really had a perfectly normal life. My mom died when I was young, so I never really got to meet her. My sister and I have always been super close until she went away to college. Now, not as much. I guess thatâs just what happens when you live a million miles away.Â
And Iâve known my stepmom longer than I knew my real mom, but it was only a few years ago when I met my half-sister when she came to live with us because her mom died as well. Meaning, she isnât the daughter of my stepmom. Itâs a long story, and not really one I want to get into.
Sheâs super nice though. Itâs funny, but despite being polar opposites with my older sister, theyâre both mushy inside. Same with my stepmom. And my dad⌠he tries his best. Weâre like exactly what you expect from a slightly broken family. Plus my dog who my cousin gave to me during a rough time. Honestly, sheâs probably my favorite sibling out of them all. (Both my sisters would kill me if they knew I wrote that.)
And then there are my friends. I have some that are closer than others; Two of them Iâve known for a while now, and one who I only met recently but treats me better than some of the people Iâve known my whole life. While I admit, Iâm not the most social person in the world, theyâre pretty amazing as far as friends go.Â
So there it is. My perfectly normal life. Except for that huge ass secret.
He typed and retyped each line what felt like a thousand times, deleting word after word. He didn't know what was too much. It all felt like too much, really. He didnât even know if he could trust this person.
Signing it was the worst part; he didnât have any good pseudonyms. Eventually, he decided to leave it blank.
Without a second thought, Nico hit âsendâ before leaning back in his chair and putting his hands over his head. Only a second later, a light knock came from the door, causing him to quickly sit up as Hazel popped her head in.
âDinnerâs ready if you wanna eat,â she smiled. She left just as quickly as she came, curls bouncing as she walked away. They had gotten over the awkwardness of having a new sibling only months after Hazel moved in, but there was still some strangeness. To this day, Nico was still a lot closer to her than Bianca was. Either way, Nico knew he would do anything for her. (Not that he would admit that. He didn't even need to, Hazel already knew.)
Nico glanced back at his computer, but there was nothing in his inbox besides the Gmail âWelcomeâ email. It was stupid to think this person would respond that quickly, seeing as Nico didn't even know if they would respond at all. Heaving a sigh, he got up to join his family for dinner. Maybe he could even convince them to watch Steven Universe instead of The Bachelor.
---
Dinner went as expected. Itâd been a while, actually, since they were all together for a meal. Hazel talked about her psycho geometry teacher and a boy she talked in the class named Frank, who seemed sweet but apparently had a shared hatred for math just like her. Nico didnât say much, although chimed in at the latter, saying he better be the flower boy at their wedding. That even got a short scoff out of his father, which tended to be the closest Nico ever got him laughing. So, that was a win.Â
However, he was a little more distant than usual. The pending email response was in the back of his mind during the entire meal.
Even afterward, as they watched reruns of Glee (a compromise made between Hazel and Nico, much to their fatherâs dismay), Nico couldnât focus. It felt like a weight was burning through his back pocket. After the second episode (and laughing his ass off at his fatherâs reaction to Kurtâs âSingle Ladiesâ dance) he finally excused himself.Â
He tapped the Gmail app on his phone as soon as he had reached his room. It felt like his heart skipped a beat when he noticed the new notification, a response from the original poster. With slightly shaky hands, he tapped the response, and a message opened up.
From: [email protected]
Date: Oct 2 at 8:12 PM
Subject: Iâve never done this before
Dear anonymous person on the internet,
I really donât know where to begin. Iâm also not sure if you're a real person. For all I know you could be some random pedophile like one of those cases they warned us about in health class for the past 5 years, even though itâs never happened within the last decade.
But in case you are real, hello! Iâm the original poster from that hb-secrets thread about life being a Ferris wheel. Iâm rereading what I wrote there and I canât stop cringing, so Iâll start by apologizing for that. Iâm not usually one for metaphors, even the bad ones.
Anyway, it sounds like you identify with what I wrote. Iâm glad you emailed me; I didnât think anyone would actually do anything with the email that I left. Except maybe be extremely homophobic. But it made me feel less like I was shouting into the void, so thanks for that. And I assume youâre okay with me writing back since you sent me the first email. Though, I canât believe Iâm actually writing to you. I really didnât think I would.
I guess Iâm thinking it could be nice to talk with someone who can relate to how Iâm feeling. No pressure, of course, but feel free to write back if you want to. I donât want to use my real name, but you can call me Blue.Â
It was surreal. Someone who was like Nico. Someone who wanted to talk to Nico because they were like him.Â
He started to type again, with more excitement than heâs ever felt. Heâs never been able to express this part of him before. It was almost like first date jitters-type feeling.Â
(Not that he really knew what that was like.)
From: [email protected]
Date: Oct 2 at 8:23 PM
Subject: Re: Iâve never done this before
Hi, Blue
Wow, Iâm actually kind of flipping out right now, because I seriously didnât think Iâd hear from you, especially so quickly. Wow. Okay. First of all, thanks for your email and also for your Tumblr post. I really liked it, Blue, and it wasnât cringy at all, I promise.
So do you go here (here meaning HBHS)? I do, Iâm a junior. And Iâm a guy (are you a guy?) Anyway, I could relate a lot to your post, Like, pretty much all of it, but especially the part about being gay. You probably figured that out already though. And Iâm not out yet either, which you probably figured that part out too.Â
I guess a part of me wants to be out, but a part of meâs like⌠no. Itâs hard to explain. I donât know. Maybe you get it.
So yeah, itâs really nice to meet you! This is kind of cool, right? Even writing this email makes me feel eleven times less alone.
-Angel (not my real name either, two can play at this game. Itâs not like a pet-name type thing. If you ever find out who I am, youâll understand why.)Â
He was worried about the whole name-signing thing. âAngelâ was just the easiest thing; it was a direct translation of his last name. He was really hoping Blue still didnât take it in a weird way, even with that last note.
Relief flooded through him when he read the first sentence of Blueâs next email.Â
From: [email protected]
Date: Oct 2 at 8:41 PM
Subject: Re: Iâve never done this before
Angel, huh? Maybe like guardian angel perhaps.Â
Also, eleven times less alone? Thatâs oddly specific. :) But I know exactly what you mean.
Anyway, wow. Hi. You wrote back, and quickly too. Iâm really glad you liked my post. Now Iâm actually happy I put it out there. I have to admit, itâs strange to be writing a somewhat personal email to you when we donât know each otherâs identities. Though, in a way, I guess that makes it easier. Sorta like a therapist, except weâre both blindfolded and have the same problem. So not really a therapist, I guess.
Do you think therapists have therapists? Like, if the problems get to be too much for them? Is there an Almighty Therapist who just absorbs everyone's issues and feels nothing?
Anyway, I am a guy, and Iâm also a junior at HB. I think youâre actually the first other gay guy Iâve met here. Itâs pretty surreal to be talking to you. (In a good way though.) I wonder if we know each other in real life.Â
And I think I understand what you mean. I feel like Iâm constantly going back and forth about wanting to come out. I have these moments where Iâm almost bursting to tell people. Of course, thatâs where I was when I posted the thing on Tumblr. But I always feel so weird about it a few hours later, and sometimes Iâm intensely relieved no one knows yet. What about you?
-Blue
From: [email protected]
Date: Oct 2 at 9:12 PM
Subject: Re: Iâve never done this before
I mean, letâs be real, eleven is the best number, which is perfect because weâre both in eleventh grade. And I can't believe weâre both juniors. The class is pretty small compared to the others, so I bet we do know each other, which is weird to think about. What if weâre actually enemies in real life? Do you have enemies? I donât think I do, not really. Various people tend to annoy me a lot. Itâs not even their fault; some people just have really punchable faces.
 (Iâm usually a really nonviolent person. Iâm more like a violent person who at the same doesnât really want to hurt anyone, so I have to resort to fantasizing about punching people, which just ends in eating my feelings in large quantities of McDonaldâs.)
Itâs funny for me, itâs actually not so much that go back and forth about wanting to come out. Itâs like I simultaneously do and donât want to be out. Which is pretty freaking exhausting, honestly. Like Iâm in this constant state of JUST SAY IT and NO NEVER. Do you think that ever ends? I donât know, maybe Iâm just a really indecisive person. I think part of me is also just holding out until college when Iâm away from anyone I know and can just reinvent myself.
So what kind of stuff do you like to do after school and everything?
-Angel
From: [email protected]
Date: Oct 2 at 9:34 PM
Subject: Re: Iâve never done this before
I donât think I have any enemies, but now Iâm definitely wondering if Iâm the guy with the punchable face. How do you know if you have a punchable face? Iâve never been punched, so hopefully, thatâs a good sign.Â
I will say, Iâm definitely with you on the issue of eating your feelings. Iâm the person who has never smoked a cigarette or gotten drunk or anything like that, and I'm usually relatively healthy. However, I once ate five jars of Nutella in one sitting. I do not recommend,Â
Iâm indecisive, too, in some ways. Okay, full disclosure: I was really conflicted when you sent me that email. I kept going back and forth about whether I should email you. I was (and am) definitely intrigued, but I guess I was also a little bit paranoid. Itâs just that you could have been anyone, and itâs hard to know sometimes if someoneâs being a jerk or if theyâre being sincere. Plus my cousin sort of actually outed me. Not to anyone else, heâs the only one who knows, but now Iâm super paranoid about coming out. (Exactly what you said about holding out until college. Iâm thinking I can move to LA or somewhere where nobody really cares. Although I wouldnât want to reinvent myself. And I donât want you to reinvent yourself either, youâre pretty cool as you are I think.) Anyway, Iâm really glad I decided to email you, though.
So, youâre probably going to think Iâm ridiculous, but Iâd rather not answer your last question. Itâs just⌠I think I like being anonymous for now. Is that okay?
-Blue
Okay, that last part was fair. Nico understood the wanting-to-be-anonymous thing. Sure, they go to the same school. But Blue had no reason to entirely trust him; Nico didnât really trust Blue at all. This could entirely be some random asshole anywhere in the world trying to find him and beat him up, or worse. It sucked that homophobia was still a thing in their day and age.Â
But Blue said he liked talking to Nico, and it was thrilling to talk to him. It was another secret of his, but not one he entirely minded keeping. So, he chose to believe that Blue was actually who he said he was.Â
From: [email protected]
Date: Oct 2 at 9:57 PM
Subject: Punchability
Blue, you have so much to learn about the rules of punchability, starting with the fact that it is completely impossible for you to have a punchable face. Rule number one: guys who make metaphors about Ferris wheels are automatically unpunchable. Rule number two: There isnât one. Just rule number one, so memorize it. Everyone else can catch these fists. (Catch these fists? These hands? This would probably be more intimidating if I knew the correct phrasing)
Also, five jars of Nutella in one sitting is the worst idea Iâve ever heard in my life. Challenge accepted.
I donât think youâre ridiculous, Blue. I totally understand why you don't want to tell me about your extracurricular activities (Iâm guessing interpretive dance, though, you seem like the type.) But seriously, I get it. Itâs this weird contradiction, right? Itâs so much easier to be open with someone who doesn't know you at all. Weâll be each other's Ultimate Therapists.Â
(Except I donât think I could ever be a therapist.)
Anyway, Iâm really glad you decided to email me back, too :)
-Angel
That smiley face was really unlike him.Â
Nico sent the email, but after nearly an hour, he didnât get on back, which meant Blue was probably asleep. Which was different from what Nico was used to; he tended to stay awake until the early hours of the morning most nights. But it wasnât anything he minded. He had a conversation with Blue, and even if that was the last one they would ever have (which, he was hoping it wouldnât be), it was good to know that there was somewhere out there like him.
#solangelo#heros of olympus#pjo#will solace#nico di angelo#pjo hoo big bang 2019#im willing to make a tag list for this but i didnt want to use my general solangelo taglist#so if you would like a taglist for this fic lmk!#nstls
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Tonys 2018: Stats & Trivia
With its astonishing ten wins last night, The Bandâs Visit is now the second most winning Best Musical of the 2010s so far, only behind Hamiltonâs eleven wins in 2016. It is also only the third Best Musical winner in Tonys history to win ten awards in one year (the others being Billy Elliot (2009) and Hello, Dolly! (1963).Â
Katrina Lenk successfully broke the streak! Her win in Leading Actress in a Musical for The Bandâs Visit marked only the second time since 2010 that the award didnât go to an actor in a revival. The only other winner this decade from a new musical was Jessie Mueller, who played Carole King in Beautiful (2014).Â
The Bandâs Visit composer David Yazbek, whose father is Lebanese, is the second composer of Asian descent to win Best Score. The only other is Robert Lopez, whose father is Filipino.Â
Tony Shalhoub won on his fourth nomination last night for The Bandâs Visit. Itâs his first nomination for a musical. His victory make him the Leading Actor in a Musical winner to do the least amount of singing since Thomas Mitchell in Hazel Flagg in 1953.Â
Nathan Lane won his third Tony last night for Angels in America. He is the second actor to win a Tony for playing Roy Cohn, the first being Ron Leibman in 1993. Having previously won for A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1996) and The Producers (2001), this is Laneâs first win for a play, making him the seventeenth and newest member of the club of actors to win at least one Tony for both a play and a musical.Â
John Tiffany is the eleventh and newest member of the club of directors to win Tonys for both plays and musicals. He previously won for Once (2012). Â
Tony Shalhoub also became the fifth person named Tony to win a Tony. The other four are: Tony Duquette (won for Costume Design in 1961 for Camelot), Tony Straiges (won for Scenic Design in 1984 for Sunday in the Park with George), Tony Walton (won Scenic Design three times: Pippin in 1973, The House of Blue Leaves in 1986, and Guys and Dolls in 1992), and Tony Kushner (won Best Play back to back for Angels in America: Millennium Approaches and Angels in America: Perestroika in 1993 and 1994).
EGOT watch: Glenda Jackson now only needs a Grammy, and Bruce Springsteen now only needs an Emmy. Jackson is also the 24th person to win the Triple Crown of Acting.
In a fun, useless stat, this is the first time both David Yazbek and Norbert Leo Butz were nominated in the same year that Butz didnât win and Yazbek did. Yazbek lost Best Score for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels in 2005 and Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown in 2011, the same years that Butz won Leading Actor in a Musical for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and Catch Me If You Can.Â
Once on This Islandâs win for Best Revival last night marks its first ever Tony win in any category. Between its original production in 1991 and this revival, it failed to win any other award in 16 nominations.Â
Mean Girls is now tied with The Scottsboro Boys (2011) for losingest show in Tonys history. Both were nominated for twelve awards and won none of them.
Carousel is now the third show to win Best Choreography twice. The only others are Anything Goes (1988, 2011) and The Pajama Game (1955, 2006).Â
Many people celebrated their first Tony win last night, but among the artists to add another Tony to their mantle: costume designer Catherine Zuber (who won her seventh Tony last night for My Fair Lady), scenic designer David Zinn (who won his second for SpongeBob SquarePants), actor Nathan Lane (who won his third for Angels in America). The team behind Harry Potter and the Cursed Child did very well in this regard, with all of the following winning their second Tonys: lighting designer Neil Austin, sound designer Gareth Fry (who who his first competitive award after his Special Award last year for The Encounter), scenic designer Christine Jones, costume designer Katrina Lindsay, and director John Tiffany.Â
Some updates on directors who directed actors to Tony wins: Lindsay Mendez is the eleventh actor to win under Jack OâBrienâs direction; Glenda Jackson and Laurie Metcalf are the ninth and tenth actors to win under Joe Mantelloâs direction.Â
Depending on whether or not you count Rent with its vague âthe late 1980sâ setting, The Bandâs Visit is the first Best Musical winner to be set in the 1990s.Â
While there were only two different plays to win acting prizes this year (Angels in America and Three Tall Women), both plays won the Pulitzer Prize.
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Chapter 5
WARNING CONTAINS SEXUAL SCENES AND BAD LANGUAGE PLEASE ONLY READ IF YOUR 18+ ALSO CONTAINS SIMS3/SIMS2
Glenda Mitchell had recently moved to Albert Square upon hearing the news that her ex husband Archie had been murdered, the murderer, unbeknown to everyone, was Stacey Branning whom he raped the year before. Glenda believed that she was his wife but Peggy and her girls had thought otherwise. She had missed her girls and wanted a relationship with them but they didn't want to know, believing that she had deliberately abandoned them.
She hadn't got herself acquainted with anyone yet but she had liked the look of the male population and she was determined that she would get her hands on one of them.
As she continued cooking, she glanced at her phone and saw a text of âDannyâ and sighed heavily. She did think about getting back to him but decided not too at the moment. She wanted to settle down first. She thought about Ronnie and Roxy and decided to have a word with them, she knew there was a possibility they would reject her but she was willing to take that risk.
Jackson Walsh had recently moved to Emmerdale with his mother Hazel, he had instantly made friends with both Adam Barton and Aaron Livesy, the latter whom he was secretly attracted too. Aaron had been on his mind constantly since he arrived and he wanted the opportunity to get to know him. That night while Hazel had gone to the woolpack, he dialled Aarons number.
âHey Aaron, I was wondering if you was free this weekend.â He said, Aaron paused for a moment but then he said,
âSure what time?â He asked and Jackson smiled to himself,
â8:00 at the cinema.â
âOk, Ill tell Paddy to feed Clyde.â
Jackson was delighted with the result, he couldn't wait for Saturday.
Glenda walked into the Vic, sure enough Roxy and Ronnie were not happy to see her.
âWhat do you want?â Roxy snapped, clutching a glass of vodka, Glenda sighed heavily,
âIve come to talk.â Glenda said and Roxy scoffed,
âTalk? Talk? Its far to late for that!â She shouted, coming from behind the bar. Glenda looked at her younger daughter,
âYou walked out on us when we needed you the most! When you left our lives, you left us for good! I might not be mother of the year myself but I've been there for Amy since day one!â Roxy shouted, while Ronnie, who had returned from a workout looked on. Amy was sitting on the floor playing with her teddy while Glenda felt her temper rise,
âDo you have any idea how hurt I was when I left you, watching your dad manipulate Ronnie, take her baby away and I couldn't do anything about it! Your dad was a monster and I couldn't bare it seeing what he was doing to you both. I missed you every single day and I wanted to come back and take you both away but I couldn't!â She shouted and she walked out, bursting into tears.
Glenda continued walking up the street till she reached Emmerdale, her feet hurt her and she knew she had walked a long time but she needed to clear her head.
âYou alright love?â John called out and Glenda looked up,
âYeah Ive just been walking.â She said with a sniff and John, taking pity on her, allowed her inside. Hannah and Adam watched as Glenda walked in, wondering who she was.
Moira watched as Glenda sat beside her,
âHello, you ok?â She asked as she saw Glendaâs tear stained face. Glenda nodded,
âJust a family argument. It will blow over soon.â Glenda said sadly as Adam gave her a cup of tea. She found that she was revelling in the sympathy that the Bartons were giving her, particularly John and Adam. When she left later that day, she decided that either man she wanted to see again.
The next day, John, who was still concerned about Glenda and her state of mind, got her address from her neighbour and decided to see if she was ok. He waited for her to come to the door and she came downstairs, she smiled when she saw him,
âHello John.â She said and He nodded,
âJust come to see if your alright.â He said and she smiled,
âThank you. I do feel better. Its nice to know that people care.â She said and John nodded.
âAnytime you need someone to talk too, were always here for you.â And he left and Glenda watched, grinning to herself.
Abi Branning was doing her homework on her front garden, the weather was warm and there was a festival in the square but she couldn't go because she was too young and she had school the next day. She often complained about her life as she wanted to do well but the fact her parents had split up and her sister was often causing trouble, she found it hard. She loved her family despite their faults and wished that she could make them proud, she looked out at the festival and sighed. She knew that Lauren had snuck out to attend but still hadn't said anything and had told Tanya that she was staying at a friends. As she headed back inside, she vowed to make a good go of her life.
John was attending the festival with Peter and Andy who was having a drink in the background, Moira was working late and the kids had gone to their friends. He was having a good time and felt slightly tipsy while Peter danced with pearl who was in attendance.
It was then Glenda arrived and she saw John and spoke to him,
âHello Stranger.â She said jovially and He smiled,
âHey you ok?â He asked and she nodded as she sipped her drink,
âI'm fine and I'm having fun!â She called out, she was already drunk.
Suddenly she pulled him towards her and kissed him and he did nothing to stop her. He was flattered by her attention but he felt bad all the same. Peter, who had watched what happened, said to Glenda,
âListen Love hes married. Go away.â He said and Glenda walked off with a satisfied smirk on her face.
âWhat were you thinking?â Peter said to John who looked down. âYour supposed to be solid with Moira.â John didn't say a word and decided to head home.
Steve and Becky McDonald were in charge of the Rovers Return, Liz was away till the afternoon so they had the place to themselves and they revelled in it and there was another reason to celebrate: Amy, Steveâs daughter was going to become a McDonald. They were due to have a visit from the social worker and Becky was nervous.
âStop fretting will ya? Youll be fine!â Steve said and Becky looked at him with fear in her eyes,
âI sure hope so, I love Amy like shes my own.â She replied and Steve rubbed her shoulder,
âEverything will all work out.â He said softly and they embraced.
The day after the drunken kiss and the realisation that Glenda had played him, John decided to pay her a visit, he was hungover and angry by her games and he stood waiting for her, she said smugly,
âKnew you couldn't stay away.â
âListen Lady you may have other people fooled but last night you played me like a fool!â He shouted and Glenda scoffed,
âDidn't stop you putting your tongue down my throat did it!â Glenda yelled back,
âSo unless you want me to tell your darling wife what happened I suggest you come clean first or I will!â She shouted and she saw the fear in Johns eyes.
âYou keep away from me and my family!â John shouted and he walked away, the guilt hanging over him more than ever.
Ronnie was in the kitchen looking after Amy for Roxy who had been helping in the bookies, she was expecting to see Jack later that day, he had a surprise for her.
âYou spoken to Mum?â Ronnie asked and Roxy shook her head,
âNo way.â She said and Ronnie knew not to ask anymore.
Roxy picked up Amy and took her to her bedroom, jack was Amys father and Ronnie often thought why she had forgiven him for cheating on her with own sister but she loved him so much and would forgive him anything.
John was milking the cows as his mind was all over the place, he feared that Glenda would twist things and Moira would believe it was an affair. He felt sick and wished the ground would swallow him whole. The kids had gone out and he had time to think about confessing, it didn't help that Cain had threatened to tell Moira himself as he had also been at the festival that night and saw the whole thing. Just as John finished, Moira called him in,
âJohn can I have a word please?â She called and John stood up and headed into the house.
Moira was sitting on the sofa her arms were folded and her face was unhappy, John feared the worst,
âGlenda spoke to me today.â She said in a low voice and John nodded,
âShe tells me you and her had a moment at the festival in Albert Square, did it happen John? Did you kiss her?â She asked, her voice was breaking and John slowly nodded. Moira didn't say anything for a moment then she leapt up in anger.
âHow could you do this to me?! I didn't come to the festival because I was ill!! It wasn't out of spite! You and that old slapper behind my back?!â She shouted as she took deep breaths. John sighed,
âI was drunk Moira, I didn't know what I was doing, there is no one Id rather be with other than you!â John shouted back and Moira sat at the kitchen table.
âI cant believe you went behind my back and kissed another woman and I bet you would've slept with her if you had the chance.â Moira said and she felt the tears start forming in her eyes as she blinked them away, John felt ever so guilty as he went to cuddle her but she pushed him away and stood up.
âI'm going to work.â She snapped and headed out the door while John watched her go.
Billie and Whitney were in the playground near the flats, it was their special place and Whitney cherished every moment she spent with him. Billie was a nice person who although rebelled from time to time, had his heart in the right place.
âYou fancy going out this weekend?â she asked as they walked in front of the block of flats and Billie sighed,
âI cant babe. I'm already out with mates, maybe another time eh?â he said as he pulled her for a kiss, Whitney kissed him back and they headed home hand in hand.
Moira was working her shift at the woolpack, there was hardly any customers and the fact that Glenda was in with Carol, whom she had recently made friends with, didn't help the situation. It was then she realised the full extent of what John and Glenda had done. She made an excuse to Diane that she wasn't well and walked out but she didn't go home.
Michelle was watching television with Ryan when the front door went, sighing heavily she paused the program and opened the door to find an upset Moira,
âMoira, whats happened? Are you ok? Moira?â Michelle asked and slowly Moira broke down and Michelle put her arm round her, Ryan headed upstairs while Kirk, who had popped in to retrieve the mobile he left behind, headed quickly out.
âJohn kissed another woman and nearly slept with her.â Moira sobbed and Michelle sighed heavily.
âWhat a bloody idiot, what did he do that for?â She asked and Moira wiped her eyes,
âHe says he was drunk and that Glenda threw herself at him.â
âOh Moira. Look you can stay here tonight and tomorrow go home and talk to him.â She said softly as Moira cried silently.
Jack Branning called the Mitchells into the living room and Ronnie was intrigued by what he was about to do. Peggy couldn't contain her excitement nor could Roxy, Phil sat with no expression,
âIve called you all here because I have a question for a certain beautiful lady whom I want to spend the rest of my life with.â Jack announced before getting down on his knees and producing a small box from his coat pocket,
âRonnie Mitchell will you marry me?â He asked and Ronnie and the mitchells gasped.
âYes I will.â She said softly as Jack put the ring on her finger while the mitchells congratulated the happy couple, feeling that they were finally back on track.
Adam watched as John cleaned out the cows and felt an urge to strangle him for the upset he had caused Moira. The fact that he was avoiding her rather than talk to her was annoying and the fact that Moira was now distressed the past few days was hard for Adam to watch. âDad why donât you talk to Mum? Sheâs upset.â He said as he came over to help, John sighed heavily, the guilt was unbearable, he had made a mistake, a meaningless mistake and Moira wasnât hearing him out. âI will talk to her when she calms down, I tried speaking to her yesterday but she pushed me away.â John said sadly, Adam rolled his eyes. When the work was done, John stood up. âIâm going for a bath, watch the barn for me.â He said and he headed to the farm, âWell thatâs one way to sort your problems out. When in doubt go for a bath.â Adam mumbled sarcastically before finishing his fathers work.
Moira was milking one of the cows, the hurt that she had been feeling the past to days was still in her mind and though she wanted to move on, she kept getting unpleasant visions that she found impossible to shift. After she finished milking the cows, she decided to head up for a bath, unaware that it was already occupied.
When Moira headed up she realised that the bathroom was occupied and sighed angrily then she saw that the door was slightly open and she saw that John was in there and decided to have a sneak peak of him washing himself, she used to do it when they were younger and knew that John used to do the same to her. She watched as he ran the hot water over his chest, stomach and back and knew he washing down below and bit her lip as she watched him. He started relaxing and resting his head on edge of the bath, feeling his eyes close.
Moira slowly walked in and caressed Johns wet chest and stomach causing John to wake up and look at Moira who was smiling at him. John smiled back and realised he had been forgiven, he passionately kissed Moira and got out of the bath and began undressing her, getting her wet, he then picked her up and took her to the bedroom, he had entered her already and the pleasure that was rising between them caused them to get on the floor. John moved inside her and her moans of pleasure echoed and they felt relived that the kids were outside and couldn't hear them. Their moans of pleasure got louder as John got harder and faster before finally ejaculating and collapsing beside her, he picked her up and lay her in bed.
âI love you babe.â He whispered, âIll never hurt you again I promise.â Moira smiled at him as she fell asleep, while John cuddled up to her and nibbled her earlobe, their love enveloping them.
Deidre Barlow was organising the return of her mother Blanche from Portugal and was enlisting the help of Liz, her best friend.
âBet your excited to see Blanche aren't you?â Liz said with a smile and Deidre said,
âYeah it will have done her some good, she said that she had so much to tell us, she stayed on longer because of her friend breaking her leg so hopefully things are ok now.â
Deidre watched Ken cook the hot dogs and smiled at him, pleased that he had made a huge effort for Blancheâs homecoming, Amy and Simon were playing upstairs excited to see their Nanny Blanche and hoping for presents.
However When peter went to go and collect her, she wasn't there.
âShe better have a flipping good excuse!â Deidre said furiously as Ken went to call the hotel where Blanche was.
Ken was on the phone for half an hour and his face fell as he was talking to the son of Blancheâs friend and after he ended the call, he went to Deidre.
*Deidre, there is no easy way to tell youâ Ken said softly, holding her hands, âBlanche is dead.â
Deidre looked dumbfounded and then the tears started running,
âWhat happened?â She asked
âShe was found this morning having died in her sleep, shes gonna be flown home tomorrow, it appears that her friend left Portugal months ago.â Ken explained and Deidre was inconsolable as she told Peter and Leanne and Liz.
Later that afternoon after telling John and Andy about Blancheâs death, Peter came home with Leanne, Leanne was in her second trimester and couldn't wait to meet the baby, who was gonna be a girl. Leanne loved the idea she was gonna have a daughter and in light of Blancheâs death, decided to give her the middle name of Blanche.
âI cant believe shes gone, she had so much fighting spirit.â Peter said sadly while a devastated Simon went to his room. Leanne rubbed his arm,
âI know babe. She will have the best send off money can buy.â She said and she kissed him as they headed into the flat.
The funeral took place on Sunday and everyone was saddened by the loss of a woman who never had any fear and told it like it was. After the funeral, Moira and John went upstairs, Holly had gone to the cinema while Hannah and Adam were in their beds asleep.
âPoor Blanche and I feel so awful for Deidre bless her.â Moira said sadly and John rubbed her arm,
âI had to stay with Peter, particularly after the drama with Tracy. She's a nightmare.â John exclaimed as he began undressing, Moira nodded sadly as she did the same.
Peggy was upstairs in the Vic, feeling happy with the turn of events that had happened with Ronnie and Jack and was pleased that Ronnie was having some happiness after everything she had been through with Danielle's death and Archie and the misery he caused her. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, it was well past closing time and she headed downstairs, hoping not to encounter a burglar. She didn't.
It was Sam, her only daughter.
Peggy was lost for words as she believed that Sam was still in prison and she was further shocked to see that Sam was heavily pregnant.
Aaron and Jackson had finished their date at the cinema and they had a good time, they enjoyed each others company and they liked each other a lot.
âI enjoyed tonight.â Aaron admitted and Jackson smiled,
âSo did I.â Jackson said,
âYou can come round soon and meet Paddy, My mum and Clyde the dog.â Aaron suggested and Jackson smiled,
âGreat and you can meet my mum. Youll love her.â Jackson said with a laugh and Aaron nodded. They looked at each other for a few moments and they slowly leaned in on each other before locking lips tenderly, wrapping their arms around each other.
When they broke apart Jackson said goodbye and Aaron waited for Paddy to arrive, then he saw two people outside the cinema and looked at them more closely as he recognised them.
It was Holly and Billie and they were kissing each other, Aaron was shocked as he knew that Billie was seeing Whitney. Billie headed home while Holly watched him leave before she headed back into the cinema, Aaron secretly followed her and saw her head into the toilets, he looked through a gap in the door.
He was shocked when he saw her take out a small bag containing what looked like white powder, she lay some on the counter and snorted, pinching her nose while Aaron looked in Shock.
The question was...
What was he going to do???
End of Chapter.
Next time- Hollys addiction escalates causing friction for the Bartons, Leanne goes into labour and Carol makes a friend while the Mcqueens start a feud with the Mitchells.
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The Trials Of Being A Bodyguard 2
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Axiom: Star Mullaneyâs Team Composition Reports
Iâm still working on Axiom (finalizing notes here, adding world building details there, trying to find the funds to hire an artist so that I can make sure theyâre taken care of before work even begins ANYWHERE), but I think Iâve FINALLY got the details for the initial cast of characters down. I guess, without further ado, I present to you OUR HEROES, Ladies and Gentlemen (and all other points between, I guess, itâs getting more and more confusing by the hour if you ask me but Iâll try my best)!
But FIRST! Hereâs the actual location setting! âWELCOME TO NEXUS! A dazzling city with many enterprising opportunities! Founded in 1923 by Marshall âNexusâ Tristiani, one of the Great Heroes of the pre-Powers age, Nexus serves as the âGreat Way Pointâ between commerce, science and social values. From Thought University, founded by the greatest Mentalist of his Age, the Thought, and home to many great collegiate achievements (GO FIGHTING THINKERS!) to Therosâ Industries MANY branches of production and commerce (found on Millionaire Mile lining Millionaire Avenue), our City is RIFE with potential! Whether looking for your big break or just looking for your own slice of Heaven, Nexus is where you must go to go where you want or need to go!
Nexus: The World Goes Through Here, First!â
That sounds like a huge, spiraling place, huh? One part Astro City. One part fraction of the city scale of the one city world of One Punch Man (jeez, if I wrote âoneâ one more time, itâd be one too many for one lonely writer). Well, itâs definitely meant to be. The cityâs home to many, MANY different types of people, after all. Heroes, criminals, ordinary people, weirdos. All races and creeds of all stripes and types. Some are able to take care of themselves. Others... are not so lucky.
For those heroes that need help, they are in luck. Because the city has an incredibly unique social service at their disposal: the SOCIAL HEROES SERVICES. The SHS is a system put into place by iconic 60â˛s hero the Revolutionary after being elected to office in 1972 a year after winning a landmark Civil case guaranteeing the security of all heroes in terms of protection from discrimination from all facets of daily life corresponding to their Personae, meaning they could be classified by either their public Persona or their private identity. Using that momentum, the Revolutionary used that protection to run for Mayor under his Persona, and introduce sweeping favorable changes just a scant 3 years before being assassinated at a Founderâs Day dedicated to Tristaniâs wife, Maria, by the Triggerman. And the Social Heroes Services is arguably one of his legacies.
In many regards, itâs very similar to the Social Services program we have now. But with the added detail of involving superheroes, thereâs another side that it provides: providing heroic work opportunities in tiers and groupings. In most instances, heroes are usually lumped into two headings: Solo and Team. Itâs common for heroes to be registered for either Solo work or Team work. But with enough time and exemplary effort, itâs possible for an individual to be registered for both. Solo work is simple: your name is called for specialized cases where your talents can be applied, and every effort earns recompense. Team work, however, is slightly different: you earn recompense, like with Solo work, but there are two differing details.
The first difference is that you have the option of either being grouped with members of your collective choosing, granting the members the opportunity to appoint an affiliation name, or letting the SHS group you together at their discretion, which removes the group naming option, but places you higher on the recommendation list for future cases.
The second difference is that if you choose the group option, there are far more stringent evaluations and examinations to properly calculate your teamâs efficiency and power levels, as well as a greater emphasis on overall mental well-being and health evaluations. Essentially, anyone on a team is kept under close monitoring for both their benefit and better management. This means psychological evaluations, doctor visits and physicals, and rather strict categorization in the SHS Database.
With enough time and effort to gain enough recognition, it is possible for an individual or team to be successful enough to no longer NEED registration. But then again, those are SUCCESS cases. Many heroes have decent records, but not enough to classify them as fully âIndependentâ. Of course, there are those lucky few that get their big break without needing to be in the system for very long, if at all...
Into this system are our three Registered heroes, their support, and their Handler. In the SHS Registry, you can be labeled under three specific types of hero work: Physique class, which are those heroes whose powers or abilities fall in line with their bodies or biological manipulations; Scholar class, which are those heroes whose skills are more focused on psychological manipulation or mental powers, such as telepaths and some vigilantes; And Source class, which are those whose skills involve manipulating the fundamental elements of the universe in some way, such as energy wielders and magic users. For those non-powered individuals who wish to ASSIST, they can be categorized under the SUPPORT class, with skills and knowledge that are available to ALL heroes and organizations that wish to use their abilities. In fact, itâs not at all uncommon for known non-powered heroes to offer their services to heroes in the SHS registry.
And itâs in this registry we have our three (well, four if you count Support, and five if you count their social worker) heroes.
______________________________________________________________
TEAM STRUCTURE REPORTS:
CODE NAME: STALKER REAL NAME: ZHOU, LIAN HERO CLASS: PHYSIQUE, MUTATE (SCIENTIFIC)
PERSONA DETAILS: PUBLIC
PERSONA UNIFORM: MILITARY STYLED BLACK TACTICAL GEAR, COMPRESSION AND FILTRATION MASK
HAIR: BLACK EYES: BROWN WEIGHT: 7â˛3 WEIGHT: 523 ETHNICITY: ASIAN BLOOD TYPE: O- BIRTH DATE: MARCH 23rd
SHS WORKER: Star Mullaney
EMERGENCY CONTACT: William Campbell
FILE DATE: January 26th
KNOWN POWERS: Enhanced strength (CURRENT LIMIT: 12 TONS), enhanced agility, enhanced endurance [NOTE: LOW TO MODERATE LEVELS OF REGENERATION ABILITIES TO COMPENSATE FOR DAMAGE RECEIVED], enhanced senses (COMPLETE SENSORY ENHANCEMENT, CURRENT RANGE: 1.3 Mi. MAXIMUM)
HISTORY: Ms. Zhou is an oddity in the Registry. The unfortunate victim of an egregious criminal strike, she was introduced to an experimental solution created by her currently missing sister, Dr. Deeana Zhou, to treat severe muscular dystrophy, incorporating an unknown mineral found in a meteorite harvested for the experiment. The formula transformed Ms. Zhou from a slight, short woman to a gigantic, hulking figure, with the unknown side effect of blurring the lines of gender appearance to the point of almost complete masculinization.
Despite the appearances of gender transition, she recognizes her gender identity as female, and all medical testing has shown that all her reproductive faculties remain unchanged. Attempts to help correct her gender through scientific techniques have been proven to be ineffective, as her genetic structure rapidly negates any form of hormonal or advanced scientific manipulation. Extraterrestrial means has been proven to have little to no effect, with any positive effects rapidly returning to current appearances. Magical means, sadly, are currently beyond availability, as there are so few magical support systems in place, as well as available magic Source heroes that are Active in our system. Despite having a strong will, conflict of identity over her visage has caused mental issues, including gender dysphoria and depression. Currently prescribed a variation of an 5-HT1A receptor antagonist, which is the closest her system can handle without cycling out with little to no effect, as well as having bi-monthly therapy sessions with a councilor.
NOTE: Has confirmed sexual problems due to medication. But in an interesting development, Ms. Zhou has admitted that her sexual activity has actively INCREASED since being put on current antidepressant. She has stated that though there may be days where congress with her current significant other can tire him out or distract her slightly, itâs manageable with practically no effect on her efforts while registered in the Social Heroes Services.
In spite of all that she has endured, Stalker has a fantastic record of 238 successes and only one failure in 4 months time as an Independent Hero. Usually minor collateral damage on a more personal level, with an increased propensity for vehicular damage in particular. Her style of heroics, as she calls it, is âplanned recklessnessâ, with a somewhat calculated cavalier attitude focused on doing âas much good as possible before I canât do moreâ. Is one of the fewer known heroes who actively tries to pull any villainous action away from any sort of crowds, actively throwing herself between bystanders should the need arise.
It is my opinion that Ms. Zhou aka STALKER be allowed to operate as both an INDEPENDENT Hero, as well as have access to her own TEAM. Sheâs been proven to be resourceful, focused, and most of all reliable in almost every singe task she has been presented. I just wish the matters with the Weeping Willow incident hadnât happen as to give her a perfect record.
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CODE NAME: DESPAIR
REAL NAME: POE, MITCHELL ALLAN
HERO CLASS: SCHOLAR, BASELINE
PERSONA DETAILS: PRIVATE
PERSONA UNIFORM: TECHNOLOGICALLY ADVANCED AND MODERNIZED PLAGUE DOCTOR
HAIR: BROWN EYES: HAZEL HEIGHT: 5â˛11 WEIGHT: 166 LBS. ETHNICITY: CAUCASIAN BLOOD TYPE: B+ BIRTH DATE: FEBRUARY 12th
SHS WORKER: Star Mullaney
EMERGENCY CONTACT: Mitchell Allan Poe
FILE DATE: April 18
KNOWN SKILLS: 146 I.Q., highly proficient in many different forms of combat, incredibly analytical mind, speaks 13 different languages, Graduate School level knowledge in Computer Science, Criminology, Sociology and several other categories of academia, self-described âtinkererâ, has been noted by Psychic Support staff as having an âunknowingly strong mental shield which can cause psychic rebuff/static as an automatic defense mechanismâ (NOTE: Schedule testing on potential psychic abilities, possible recategorization from Baseline), Olympic caliber physique with peak human reaction time, licensing to handle many different forms of vehicular craft, including Extraterrestrial modular craft. HISTORY: Where do I even BEGIN with Despair...
Well, the best place to start would probably be with Mr. Poeâs current record under the SHS. In the year and a half he has been registered, our resident Plague Doctor garbed Scholar class Persona has become the most prolific Hero we have on call, BY FAR. 743 attributed arrests and crimes stopped the 5 months before he registered, and a mind boggling 2562 since. He has solved decades old mysteries, found missing people in the most perplexing cases, discovered patterns no other Hero has found, and many more to show. His effort and output is STAGGERING, to say the least. Common comments from reports say that other Heroes find him charming, but also a bit of a âtry hardâ, âoverachieverâ, or in some cases a âcheat, liar or charlatanâ (as evidenced by the well known and at-length loquaciousness of Mr. Foolproof). It also needs to be stated that he is the most versatile Hero on registry, able to functionally conceive scientific concepts with some of our greatest scientific minds, yet also able to rationalize and believe in precepts of magical thought and practice. In all consideration, he is probably our closest asset in comparison to either the Smithee, the current #1 rated tech-based Hero in Nexus, or Cerberus, the #1 non-enhancement Vigilante.
Despite his record and somewhat conflicting effect on fellow heroes, his bird like appearance is rather appropriate given his problematic neuroses. First and foremost is Mr. Poeâs rather persistent Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, making him obsessed with order and cleanliness in the highest order. Although finding great success in utilizing his disorder towards case studies and investigations, it has led to some rather straining situations involving his ability to interact with others, as his obsession has led him to wearing his costume almost all of the time. Another issue with Mr. Poe is a rather strong case of Illeism, which means he consistently refers to himself as his Persona in the third person rather than any personage or even his real name. Many have gone on record as saying itâs âannoying or weirdâ, but in all honesty, I believe that heâs isolated himself so thoroughly into his Persona as some form of protective wall. Said protection might also be a corollary to his OCD, as itâs somewhat common for people with traumatic pasts to become obsessive as a coping mechanism.
Given Mr. Poeâs track record, it must firmly be stated that he would be a critical asset on any team he is placed in. He has worked with many other heroes in the past, but in the 15 cases he has colluded with Stalker, their public favorability rating is an impressive 97% (even rating higher than the current power couple of Paragon and Goddessâ rating of 94%). These two cut an impressive image, and with the addition of Stalkerâs Support class member, Camp, they meet most of the criteria for full team recognition status.
If meeting qualifications, I must ask that Stalker and Despair officially be listed as pending for team approval until I can find a suitable hero to fill in the final missing detail. They are critical assets that have been shown to work well together and are recognized publicly for their efforts. In all, a great boon for both the individuals, as well as the SHS.
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CODE NAME: BARBIE
REAL NAME: BARBARA JONES
HERO CLASS: SOURCE, AVATAR
PERSONA DETAILS: PRIVATE
PERSONA UNIFORM: ...BARELY WITHIN LEGAL LIMITS
HAIR: AUBURN/GOLDEN WITH ELEMENTS OF RED EYES: GREEN HEIGHT: 5â˛4/6â˛4 WEIGHT: 114 lbs./uncategorizable ETHNICITY: CAUCASIAN BLOOD TYPE: AB- BIRTH DATE: NOVEMBER 9th
SHS WORKER: Star Mullaney
EMERGENCY CONTACT: Mrs. Lorraine Macintosh, Thinker University
FILE DATE: August 23rd KNOWN POWERS: [See, HISTORY]
HISTORY: I believe itâs best I introduce you to Barbara Jones, first.
Barbara Jones is an Australian student currently enrolled at Thinker University with the explicit purpose of a major in Library Sciences, with a specific focus on Digital Archiving. She is a smart lady, reserved, dedicated, whose friends and associates have stated that if she âput a little effort in, she could definitely get whichever partner catches her fancyâ.
Barbie, on the other hand, is practically a walking wet dream. The magnification of desire, she has features most would be willing to kill themselves over, and the rest would say are impossible to get or maintain. Tall, beautiful, flirtatious, with nary a concern except her own interests and actions. Sheâs unafraid of her body, and likes to see people responding to her brazen appearance. Thank Heaven sheâs a Hero.
And if you havenât guessed it already, theyâre one in the same being...
In connected reports by multiple Source class heroes both within the SHS and without, Barbaraâs level of power is on a frightening scale. In all the gathered data on her, she has a connection to no less than THIRTY GODDESSES, a specific majority of them connected to Light and Fire in some purview. As Destiny Darque put it in her summary, âItâs not the number of goddesses we know of that is most frightening, but in the fact that SO MANY are willing to work together to empower an individual to such a degree. The addition that thereâs only one vessel thatâs capable of successfully controlling all that power is the true cause of my concern to the point of asking: WHY BARBARA JONES?â And in my own personal opinion, Iâm right there with Ms. Darque.
Ms. Jones is an IMMENSELY POWERFUL asset, with such a vast array of abilities at her disposal that itâs kind of maddening. For the most part, she keeps it to some basics (Flight, strength, invulnerability, energy manipulation), but from every report weâve seen, Barbie is a somewhat ditzy Persona, consistently revealing previously unknown powers and abilities whenever she feels like it (as evidenced in the Rigor Morty case, when she HEALED 15 FRESH ZOMBIES BACK TO LIFE, with the reasoning of âfresh healthy skin looking SO much betterâ). In conjunction, every case report has cited conflicting incidents of Persona temperament, with some having her doing random actions that some would find foolhardy at best, and others being as focused and considerate as any veteran would take. And the reason for such a dichotomy is listed in the Psychic evaluations as two completely separate identities. As one report put it, âItâs not really a sense of a psychological schism like you would find in Dissociative Identity Disorder, but more of a Secondary Soul that grew from the Hostâs. In as short a way to put it as possible, itâs like her soul gave birth to its own twin when she received her gifts, and they randomly switch whoever is in the driverâs seat at that moment .â
Thankfully, we have two other heroes on registry that have issues with dichotomy on record. Iâm sure if they were put on the same team and given regular counseling, all three would find improvements in their daily lives and create a cohesive team. And most importantly, give our resources more time to collect further data on what Barbie is TRULY capable of.
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