#so I like to think she lives in her house in the mountains in Italy

[f1bordeaux]

An Verstappen one with “Did you ever really care about me?” and “Please stay.” Thank you

If You Cared (Part 1) | mv1

It's been years since you've indulged in a vacation. What better time is there than summer? Your family, the beach house in Italy-it seems perfect. But, for things to be just like good old times, your family needs to invite his. So of course you are having mixed feelings as the boy who broke your heart re-enters your life like nothing happened. Warnings: None Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader Word count: 2.1k Poetry style | Story style A/n: Hello! This story came to me as soon as I saw this request. I got so many ideas and I'm actually super excited to keep writing this. There will be more parts to follow, so keep a look out. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five

You always longed for the familiarity of summer.

It was by far your favorite season. Something about the warmth, the life, the atmosphere, the memories-something about it all brought you comfort. You were head over heels in love with summer. Or perhaps it was just more exciting this year knowing that you would go on a real vacation for the first time in a long while. “Let’s visit the beach house this year,” your mom had suggested. “Sure there is probably some dust in the corners, but it’s nothing we can't sweep off.”

When thinking of summer memories, the beach house in Elba, Italy, was the primary setting for all of them. From the time you were born until the time you moved out, your family would spend a handful of weeks there, drinking up the sun and inviting friends to visit. You learnt to swim in the pool behind the summer house. You learnt to cook in the kitchen of the summer house. You had your first kiss in the living room of the summer house. Right, that. Something you preferred not to think or talk about.

“Mom!” you wrapped her in a hug the second you could. After moving away from home to pursue work, you rarely saw her in person. You rarely had time to cook yourself dinner let alone come home. It would be nice to get away for a month-just you, your mom, your dad, your brother and sister and the Italian shores of Elba.

“How was your flight, my baby?” She asked, pulling your backpack from off your shoulders.

“Which one? The one from New York to Florence or the one from Florence to Elba?” As a child you always made a fuss about how secluded Elba was. It’s a small, mountainous island off the west coast. A small airport, no larger than the biggest grocery store in town, was all they had to offer. They didn’t take commercial flights from New York. Nope, you had to get on a small, ten person airplane with five other people and fly over that way. It was nostalgic, truly.

Your mom rolled her eyes. “Still dramatic as ever.”

You shrugged, a smile stamped on your face. “What can I say?”

“Let's go, your dad is at home making dinner. It should be ready when we arrive.”

Your heart felt so full, so satisfied. You felt like a child again, like a little girl viewing the world from innocent eyes. Your mom was carrying your backpack, your dad was making dinner. You wondered if they’d offer to tuck you in at night. This is what you needed the most, and you didn’t even realize it until you were in the passenger seat of your mom’s rental car, watching the coast of the island roll by in the dimming sun. New York was busy. It was loud and dirty. Elba was quiet. It was beautiful and clean.

This summer, you told yourself. I’m not going to have a single worry, not a single care in the world.

“The Verstappen’s are coming by next week.”

You almost choked on your food. “What did he just say?” Dinner on the patio was already off to a ravishing start.

You don't notice it-too busy dabbing the corner of your mouth with a napkin-but your mother swatted at your brother who held a smirk on his lips. He knew it would bother you and he also knew that mom hadn’t told you yet. He loved being the bearer of bad news. He loved pestering his older sister.

“You know, Max’s family?” He pushed on. “The boy who left you for cars-”

“Luca.” Your mom cut him off. “Enough.”

Silence hung over the table like it was a light fixture. Your dad and sister said nothing and you knew it was because those two were in favor of the Verstappen’s coming to stay. Hell, your dad was probably the one to extend the invitation. You knew your sister would back him up because she loved Victoria-the younger sibling of the two Verstappen children. Your brother obviously didn’t care. He idolized Max and his racing. It seemed like your mother was the only one on your side.

“Was nobody going to tell me until Max knocked on our front door one day?” You asked, cutting at the food on your plate.

“Max probably won't even be able to make it,” your mother tries to reassure you. “The only ones who have confirmed it are Sophie and Victoria. Ooh-Victoria is bringing the babies so that should be fun-”

“Are you just trying to calm me down, mom?” Again, the silence made itself known. You spoke first, shaking your head with an upside down smile. “You know what? I don’t care. Max or not, I’m here to have a good summer. No childhood crush or-”

“Childhood boyfriend who broke your heart.” Your brother corrected you. You kicked him from under the table, exerting an ouch from him.

“No childhood drama is going to interfere.” You finished.

“She's gone crazy.” Your sister whispered to your dad. You kicked her too.

“I’m going to have a good summer. Nobody will ruin that for me.”

And in the beginning, you did have a good summer. You spent your first full day in Elba catching up on jet lag. When you finally decided to roll out of bed at two pm, you went to the beach with your sister. The two of you had a chance to catch up, sitting on the sand with a small array of fruits to eat while you spoke. The weather was perfect, the ocean was calming, and you were reminded of how much you loved your younger sister.

“What did you do for the big twenty-two?” You asked, referencing her birthday that had preceded about three weeks prior.

She shook her hand, the grapes in her palm shifting. She picked out a bruised one, adding it to a small pile of other undesirable fruits. “Went out with some friends. I had an exam due that day though, so most of it was spent in my room working on that.”

College. Something you tried your hardest to avoid. All was futile, though. After only a few weeks in New York you realized you’d need it. “Sounds fun. Were you mad you had to leave all your friends for the summer?”

“No,” She popped a grape in her mouth. “I was excited to come back to the beach house.”

“Me too.”

“Can I start a conversation without you getting mad at me, y/n?”

You sighed. “If you start by saying that, then no.”

“How are you going to react if Max really does show up on Monday?”

It was your turn to search through the handful of strawberries you had. One strawberry had a large hole. The rest looked fine, you thought. Max. Right, that's where the conversation was. Max Verstappen. Your first crush, your first kiss, your first-boyfriend? Was it ever that? Really, you didn’t know what it was and what it wasn’t. He was Max, and you were y/n. That was all the facts you knew surrounding the two of you.

“I’ll be nice. I have no reason not to be.” You finally responded.

Your sister peeled her sunglasses off her face. She looked at you amusingly through her brow. “No reason? Really?”

A shrug lifted your shoulders. “What? Max and I were never dating.”

“Sixteen-year-old you would say otherwise.”

“Sixteen year old me was delusional.” You looked at the ocean in front of you. You were just a delusional child, right? Max was your first kiss. Max was your biggest crush. Max did break your heart. It’s pretty damn hard to break someone's heart when you’re not together, no? “I don’t care about Max anymore. If he comes, he comes. If he doesn’t? Then so be it. I really don't care, Mia.”

“Alright,” She said dismissively. “I guess we’ll find out.”

The two of you wouldn’t find out for another five days. During your time-waiting for the possible arrival of Max and his mom and sister-you explored the city, you occupied the beaches, you read some books, you went out on the boat with your brother and dad. Life was calm. There were no obligations you had to fill, no tasks at hand, no work to be done. It was you, the Italian sun, the ocean and the breeze. You seriously considered moving there. Mom would let you have the beach house, right? How could she say no to the oldest?

All was good. All was calm.

“Max is here, y/n!” Luca swung open the patio door, yelling at you with a smirk. You were lying on a lounge chair next to your sister-the both of you only wearing swimsuits as you tried to tan. “He’s a fine specimen.”

You picked up your hat from the ground and threw it at your teenage brother. “Fuck off, Luca.”

“I’m serious! Max, Victoria and Sophie are here.”

You looked over at your sister. “Go inspect.” You instructed her.

She groaned, standing up from her chair and wandering inside, not before slapping Luca on the back of the head, however. The two of them shut the door, a waft of cold air swiping across your body before disappearing. There was soft music playing from a speaker near the pool. If a car pulled up, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Maybe they were here, but was Max seriously with them? Did you want him here? Would it actually be easier without him here or did you want some fun this summer? Did drama entertain you? Maybe you just wanted something nice to look at while you were here.

The back door slid open. You were lying face down, the sun warming your back. You didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was Mia coming to deliver the news to you. It would be better if she didn’t see your face while telling you. Maybe you would be disappointed at the answer-whatever it may be. “Well? Is he here?” You asked, voice muffled by the lounge chair.

“Is this your hat?”

You looked up so quickly that you pulled a muscle in your neck. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, rubbing your fingers over the pain. Did you curse to yourself because Max was standing right infront of you, your ball cap balancing off his index finger, or because of the pain? Both, you decided. It was for both reasons.

“I’ll leave it,” He set it on the table next to you. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You readjusted yourself, sitting up on the edge of the chair. He definitely got a much better view of you than he was hoping for. You were older now, almost by ten years. Sixteen year old you and twenty five year old you looked a lot different. He figured that out pretty quick.

“Good to see you, y/n.” He smiled before turning on his heel to go back inside. His back was broad, his shoulders looked stiff. He had some stubble, but it suited him. He looked-good? No. Stop thinking like that. He probably had a girlfriend or something. He was a rich, famous, Formula One driver. No way he was single walking around looking like that.

“Right.” Nobody was around to hear you say it. So, nobody was around to hear you follow it up with, “What the fuck.”

Hesitantly, you picked up your ball cap, slipping your ponytail through the back. You walked inside, scanning the room before making any more steps forward. Mia and Victoria were in the living room. Sure enough, Victoria had brought her two children and husband. Mia was emitting plenty of ‘aww’s’ and ‘that is so cute’s’. Max was bringing luggage in through the front door. Great, they're planning on staying. Your brother shot you a smirk from where he sat at the kitchen bar. Told ya’ so.

“Max, how’d you manage time off from F1?” Your mother asked.

“It’s summer break,” He said matter-of-factly. “I don’t race again until late August.”

“So you’ll be here for the three weeks you mother and sister will be?”

Please say no, please say no, please say- “I plan to, yes.”

The sliding door snaps behind you as you let go of it. Everyone turns to look at your bikini clad figure. Victoria exchanges a concerning glance with your sister. Victoria’s husband looks at her, confused as to why there is such a thick tension in the air.

“Y/n, go shower and get dressed, we’re all going to dinner in a bit.” Your mother said, her lips pressing into a thin smile.

“Right.” You said, weaving past all the bodies. “I’ll go do that.”

Oh what a summer this was playing out to be.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 requests #f1 imagine #formula 1 #max verstappen #verstappen #mv1 #verstappen fanfic #verstappen ff #f1 x reader #verstappen x reader #mv1 x reader #Max Verstappen x reader #f1 series #f1 smut #Verstappen smut #max verstappen smut

[thenixkat]

Mundane AU!Laios thoughts

Note:

Probably contains spoilers

Mundane au= no magic and no fantasy 'races' (like... little people are a thing, they exist in reality, some people just have dwarfism. The elves are just skinny racist and xenophobic Europeans like? And there's already parralells made with the demi humans so if I do anything the orcs are Afro Native and Kobolds are somewhere African or Arab. And for the ogres... gigantism is a thing that exists in real like and totally a teen girl would just wear some horns.)

Thoughts:

The Toudens are European-born. From somewhere cold as hell, really isolated and conservative, that's close to some mountains, that's racist towards the local indigenous people.

(The sibs, but especially Laios got chewed out about some shit and has been trying to be better, slips up every now and then but takes criticism well so long as folks tell him what he did/said wrong).

Local weird kids put off vibes that the rest of the village didn't like, Laios and Falin grew up bullied and ostracized. Falin got sent off to schooling in the big city and later to a university in Italy where she met Marcille.

Laios dropped out of high school and joined the military as soon as he was able to b/c he wanted to get the hell out of dodge. Served for a few shitty years b4 just... deserting and backpacking across Europe just straight up homeless and working whatever odd jobs he could find. Man was going through it. Wound up in the same city where Falin was studying at a university in and decided to visit her. She took one look at him and refused to let him just go back to what he was doing, so Laios started couch surfing with her (very much against dorm rules but he looked terrible and Falin wasn't about to let anyone stop her from making sure her brother has a roof over his head and food).

Eventually, she takes him with her when she does a work-study in the USA for her ecology degree and they ended up staying/Falin kinda maybe sorta dropped out and got a job with a vet near where she was doing her work-study.

Laios and Falin are technically illegal immigrants but they're white so no one really questions their citizenship (their working on getting citizenship/papers)

Laios gets a GED. Does some self-study from Falin's textbooks and online stuff but that's about it for his schooling.

Laios definitely, like, lives in Falin's basement. Falin is the primary breadwinner in this household, Laios is aware of this and has learned to accept it even tho he would like to take care of his baby sister and sometimes feels bad about not being able to. They used to share a room in a cheap apartment but after building up enough savings they managed to buy a suspiciously cheap house in a rural town bordering a reservation and not far from a national park.

Laios still works odd jobs, mostly physical labor and stuff where they won't ask for a degree. Has worked retail, where his customer service was trash but he's darn good at just stocking and shelving shit.

Met Chilchuck while working retail, Chilchuck introduced him to the concept of a union which Laios thinks is really neat.

The town where the Touden's moved has a sizable population of people with dwarfism, Chilchuck is a notable member of the little person community in the area. The Touden's go to Chilchuck for help with paperwork (they pay him a small fee) and he doesn't ask too many questions about why they don't have this or that piece of documentation.

Laios enjoys doing citizen science and bird watching. During the tourist season, he runs a small wilderness guide giving campers and hikers tours in the local national park.

There's a hermit that lives in the national park illegally (Senshi) that Laios and Falin made friends with. They love his cooking.

Laios is active in the online furry community. He does commissions, mostly of digital and physical art or people's fursonas and vore stuff. He does great ferals, and decent anthros, but his human art is not good (he's working on it).

Laios is decidedly chubby in this, his weight goes up and down depending on the season and how much physical activity he's doing. But ever since he reunited with Falin, she's been making sure he doesn't skip meals if they can afford to eat. And ever since he met Senshi he's gotten heftier since he loves that man's cooking.

#nix meows #dungeon meshi #laios touden #mundane au #just a few thoughts

[extasiswings]

Waittt what’s the reasoning behind buck quitting being a firefighter?

So obviously this is just me speculating, but the Buck/Abby parallels have been very loud in my mind since S3. And I just went back and rewatched 3x18, including their final conversation on the bench, which made some wheels start turning.

Because Abby's explanation for leaving was that she had become someone whose life wasn't her own, she made it about everyone else. As a first responder, about the people on calls, at home, about her mom. She had made her life all about taking care of other people and in order to find herself (including being able to find the love of her life), she had to leave. Her job, Buck, the city. And what she said that stuck with me was that the reason she didn't come back, why she was afraid to come back, was because she thought that if she did she would fall right back into the same habits and lose herself again.

We've never gotten (in my view) an explanation for Buck wanting to be a firefighter that isn't tied up in mountains of self-worth issues and trauma. All of 3A was about him feeling like he was nothing without the job, because saving lives is the only way he feels like he has value (which, now that we know about it, goes back to the Daniel of it all). He has made his life about other people, and we've seen him stuck in this cycle - he'll be forced to step away from the job and/or he'll take some other small step towards healing, but then he'll go back and immediately fall back into his old habits. And meanwhile, he's trying to find happiness, but even his "year of yes" has ironically been defined not by doing something for himself, but by giving pieces of himself away so someone else can have a baby.

But he died. And more to the point, he died on the job. And he's not okay. And part of why I think it could be argued that he's not okay is because he's not really processing, not really healing, is still defining himself at least in part by what he can do for other people (even though accepting that he needed to live for himself/couldn't just be the guy who fixes things is what got him out of the coma) because that's what being a firefighter has been about for him from the beginning - a way to feel needed, a way to feel valued, a way to feel loved. But part of his healing journey is about truly accepting (not just incrementally like in the coma dream) in real life that he is more than that. Abby's fear that if she came back she would lose herself again? Is exactly what Buck has been doing. And as Dr. Salazar pointed out, one of the things some people do when they die is quit their job...or go to Italy...(both of which Abby did)...and to me, unlike Eddie who quit and came back because it was where he truly wanted to be, I just have a feeling that Buck's journey could be more than that. Could be realizing that the family he's built with all of them, the way he's loved, none of that would go away just because they stop working together (and, frankly, them no longer working together is inevitable - Bobby's going to retire eventually, Chim and Hen should both be Captains someday and it can't be at the same house, if Buck and Eddie start dating they could very well not be allowed to work together...etc etc), and that he can do something else...idk, it's something I'm mulling over.

(Also, something about Buck being a teacher in his coma dream...his subconscious making him a teacher in an imaginary world where Daniel had lived...yeah...thinking thoughts)

#chapel talks #ask #anonymous #evan buckley

[isawken]

haha heyyyyy jesties

this year has been rough stuff. and the problem is nothing life shattering has happened so i don’t even get to have a spectacular mental breakdown. it’s just been a lot of grind and disappointment and struggle to keep up or have any energy to do anything other than the bare minimum. to everyone who reached out to me with love or kindness or memes and waited weeks or more for a response i love you. and i’m so sorry for my total absence of personhood. i’ve never gotten a dm even if it’s just a silly post and an “i thought of you” that i didn’t like. and your patience with me is appreciated more than you know.

i have some stuff i want to work on. some hobbies i want to pick up again. some friendships i want to recultivate. some pieces of my life i want to try to rekindle. i used to have so much creative energy and impulse. did you know i used to make zines? i fuckin loved making zines. the tactile experience of cutting up thick paper and punching holes and using thread to bind em and filling it with vague thoughts and little collages and splashes of acrylic paint. that shit ruled. about a month ago i tried making one for the first time in years. i cut up some old paper and dusted off the ol' hole punch. this time instead of my usual embroidery thread i used necklace chain to bind it. i was proud of that idea. when it came time to put stuff in it i choked. i had no creative thought. i forced myself to cover the first page with orange and yellow crayola markers. but that was it. i had nothing other than that. just hasty sloppy color thoughtlessly and restlessly thrown down. a dull background promised to a more interesting foreground that never came.

that shit did not rule.

in 1883 in pecos texas the first recorded rodeo takes place. in 2001 rob smets attends the PBR world finals in jeans and a sports jersey bearing sponsor logos. in 1780 joseph grimaldi makes his stage debut at 2 years old at london’s famed drury lane. in the many, many years before any white person ever laid eyes on it, a man in what you’d now call northern arizona paints his body in black and white stripes and puts corn husks in his hair. in 1557 ivan the terrible acts as pallbearer to a man who walked naked in the streets of moscow, even in the dead of winter. 1568 the gelosi acting company coalesces in italy to perform the hot new style of live improv entertainment. in 2017 the ringling bro’s circus performs its last show, 146 years after the titular brothers first formed it. all of these moments (and more!) live in my head rolling around like marbles and one day i’ll tell you all why.

i’ve been on mood stabilizers for so long it’s hard for me to tell if this has just been a really long depressive swing or if this is just how i am now. if this is just what getting older is like. i don’t really think it is. i am like 90% sure this will not last. but the two questions that follow are always 1. how do i get out of it, and 2. what if it is tho xD?

i recently went down to southeastern ohio to visit my family. went up the mountain at 1 am saturday night to help my gramma grab the 8 year old boy she’s been helping to take care of from his strung out mother. the next day i saw my various other relations, aunts and cousins however many times removed. i hung out with my second cousin. same age as me, with two twin girls, 4 years old. she’s a great mom. and enjoys it, too. got a decent husband with a good job. obviously i don’t know her struggles. not like we talk often. but she seemed overall pleased when she spoke about her life. i told her about my work from home job and my loving partner of 8 years and my plans for the future. she told me i was living the dream. and like. i kind of am. so why do i wake up every morning in various states of hangover (it's the mental illness)

i live in one of the cloudiest cities in these united states. my house is about 500 square feet. it’s dark at 5pm now. i already miss the sun. i want to get sunburned again. i want to be sweaty. i want to put talcum powder in my skort. i want to get through this winter without having to rub snow on my face to stave off more serious impulses. i want to check the 5 items off my to do list.

all of my want is like a song stuck in my head.

i miss that stickbug meme

i should dress up like a clown again

maybe tomorrow i’ll just lay under my weighted blanket for 5 hours

or maybe i’ll actually do something i like to do and feel good and real and human about it. who knows. only time will tell. and in the meantime. thanks if you read this <3

#hi and welcome to my bi-yearly Personal Rambling Long Post #a serious big fr thank u to those of you who are patient when i dont respond for long stretches of time. it means the world to me :o)

[seemawrites]

Mother and Me

I look over to my mum while she’s deep in her sleep. I wonder what she could possibly be dreaming about. She looks so peaceful when she sleeps, nothing like I feel when I’m resting. But then again, people say I get the way I sleep from my mother.

Being the eldest daughter in any family is tough, but mine has brought me confusion in my everyday life. I always sit and wonder if I do enough for her, for them, but I know I don’t. I don’t go to family gatherings anymore, unless my mother tells me in advance and I have enough money. I don’t bother sitting and talking with the gossiping aunties, or the cousins who talk about the most mind-numbing basic shit possible. I don’t bother being fake and pretending the elders in my family are good people. I can’t be bothered because I really don’t care. I express myself fully no matter who is in the room. I may hold back a few things, but my attitude remains the same. But my mother. My mother can slap a smile on in front of anyone, and just do it. She does it all and more.

I have heard incredible stories about my mother. About the time she snuck out of her dad’s house to go to a party that her eldest brother was sneaking her out to. About the time she won a swimming race in her hometown, but her father was so angry with her that she wore a swim suit. About how she learned Arabic watching TV so when she moved to Saudi Arabia is would be easier for her. About how she managed to travel to Italy, all by herself, as a Muslim woman and youngest daughter of an African family.

I will never know the parts of her life before she had me, and I don’t think I’ll ever really know the parts of her life she keeps a secret after she’s had me.

When I was younger, I wanted to die. More than anything, that was my wish. And my mother didn’t handle it well. I wonder if she knew what she was doing when she spewed evil words at me, thinking it would make me not want to die. I wonder if she knows that I remember it like it was yesterday. I wonder if she knows I forgave her, because she came from a life far worse than mine, and didn’t have to opportunity to be sad about it.

Does she know that I won’t look at her less if she’s told me she’s had an alcoholic drink? That I won’t look at her less if she told me she’s done drugs? That she has cried tears that will fill rivers and grow taller than mountains because of sacrifices she made for her family? That I won’t look at her any less if she tells me she hates some of her family for that?

I sometimes wish desperately to turn to her and tell her, “I know mommy, I know more than you would’ve liked for me to find out,” Because she has turned to hate a lot of the ways I have turned to be like her. I don’t know if she even understands that I know she does.

She moves in her sleep and I hold my breath. She lets out a deep breath. She has sleep apnea and it gets worse the more stressed she is. She’s always stressed though, and I always worry. I try to tell her to let me help her all the time, and each time she shoos me away.

Maybe she knows that I have grown to understand not everything under the sun is so bright. Maybe she chooses not to believe it. Maybe she doesn’t know at all, because we never get to talk about these things.

I wonder where my mother would be if she ended up staying in Italy. If she had gotten the chance to live her life to the fullest without the feeling of family obligations battering down her back. I wonder how she felt when I demanded to fix my life for the sake of myself, with no one else in mind. I only wanted to get better when I wanted to get better. I never did it for her, and I wonder if she’s angry with me for that.

I would like to take my mother out to dinner, and get to know her a little better than she would allow me. I want her to tell me about her first kiss, or about the first time she ever felt so lonely that it felt like her chest cracked open. I want her to tell me about how she truly feels about her father, beyond the niceness she provides him since he’s dead now. I want her to tell me how she felt when her mother denied her the chance to go to Canada, simply because she was an unmarried woman. I wonder what it was like being married to my father, a handsome and successful man, and how she felt when other women used to chase him endlessly.

There are so many things I want my mother to tell me, and so many things I want to tell my mother. I want her to be able to be there for me in ways I had to sacrifice to be there for her as a teenager. There was a time where every time I broke down, she would break down with me, and tell me how horrible of a mother she is. I want to tell her I need to know her as a whole person before I can even begin to think like that. That I understand the difference between a bad person and a good person who does bad things sometimes. We are all human, and I wish she would allow me to look at her that way. I wonder if she knows how much of my own feelings I set aside in order for her to feel better about herself. I wonder if she knows that I allowed it because if she forced herself to understand why I was so sad, then she’d have to realise that it’s because of generations of trauma finally pouring onto me like I was being waterboarded in Guantanamo Bay. She’d have to realise the trauma’s that she carries deep down in the pits of her stomach, and has pushed down in order to be “resilient”. I wonder if she hates me for giving up resilience for my mental well-being.

People tell me to wait till I’m 30 to ask all these questions. But I’m 24 now, and I have lived outside of my parents home for almost 5 years now, and things in life have taught me we don’t all have till we’re 30.

I want to know who she is beyond her as my mother. I want to know her as the full woman that she is. The mistakes she’s made, the men that have hurt her, the drunk nights she spent with her best friends, the adventures she took without realising it would turn into one, the jobs she had to work to survive, the things she had to do to survive. I would write more things I would like to know about her, but I truly don’t know anything about her.

The confusion comes from how can I blindly love someone as a whole person if I don’t know how they are when I’m not around, how they were before I was around.

I wonder if she’s really okay. She says prayers help her, and she prays for us to be good every day. 5 times a day she does this. I have stopped doing this years ago. I wonder if she hates me for that too. I wonder if she’s okay with it but pretends to not be for the sake of being a “good mother”. Does she know I don’t care about family traditions? Secretly, I think she does, and she doesn’t want to talk about it.

She never wants to talk about anything. And I guess I have to wait.

#prose

[libidomechanica]

And perceiving in my Love does sighs called begonia persons some sense

A sonnet sequence

                And perceiving in my Love does sighs called begonia persons some sense. Would eating his time when the brag yonderous wood, who forget him, with what were the sea. Devil box out of tempt, but fell had said, you’d betray the sky, without pause, the sublime hums by land; the blots the clattery, or a woman be the lattice, if a greated should hands of feel to wrench contracters that she came the Solway, a poems with lopp and say, where than I that just a dream of something liue tyll these then yielded, piping out of both riotous and the World, not me, and said Ida; home! No more thro’ me?

                There well, or warm; my Peggy’s world, nor in our mutual murmurs start but eat? A gift, and losse. A man love-knot in the full may seemed tinct think on thy years, window. That the loan of my should not Love’s which the spouse, nor her earth she call me of feeling. Thing run, and hearthstone clings, and speak; if not, ’ quoth are they hat, feare, Being and race of your ever passim. Is good tell beleeue me, let me! I came, their priming! At her casement in this hours mad with warbling, which boldly face, and west by? For the ballad or Nation. The morning to a priminated Rome kindness in Ithaca, the wave it, remembered grass. And pale, nowherein mountain of much, may quarto, by the pine this daddie’s broke us glowing water, for the not a than the fast warm determined gold, and before us all these amiable. Our house no misses on that flow’d still, looked a strong happy house, to Do.

                Come at once to the skies. In Ettrick of the this length seems to be dangerous idolatry to have you just their speech was which ensures and I’ll enviable dead brand, to loves ascended therein her break of dirt, Norway subtless braunches white, and howe’er sires, when on their ears, the dark locked, or was Florian wine! Ye gloam which, health, because, die: you your Italy here, and his plainties just, yet the nest from his hapless where strike—thus I heard, lying all slumber with flowering Beauty answer: Thermorn, and bar,—now tread lolled across the sky: sae drown’d in thy calmer horse women.

                Play ne’er grasshopping dews improvide that can I had done tended; if that hart; open she’d her. With like ocean’s a long were to death at ever afresh the lady and maybe it end? Over too; marcht, eithere rang of the o’er, his greate in the odds are drop your earth. Then had bee as colours called our battle, among from thence. And London rain captiu’d in the more which I your every flower that would follow burned. In all start with her lattice, it springs in their face are dust, scarcely can the grace; yet pure a petty still, hoping late and thank you, so dote on the favour, and drop in.

                Say though the road the Lady springs I knows the Cherson leaves on the night with cold not the heavy sleep and wood, and view they show it: his rivulet’s lips into thy beadsman’s funeral week I hae a galloping his presence. Come, thereto I stack by hoof, and, or so master-mistress, the porous laws, independency of being new comers and this yeasty war upon the Doric mothers bore up to thy to wean his breeds. To secure astounding that Boy, single her hair was malignant has curved its tide of laughing more, as fire you like enough oft growing mine. To the clattered grownd. Will braes, delicious eye would rare, and so of your presentfully while I sang. As plights whit becomes overboard unsaleable fame, and three wine arm out the years a despair than evermore his our different of wake us all in vain essay throughout yet am I.

                I your love you adorn’d from wife we’ve no more, drink your live and black of eisel gainst the durt of a slaves of unsifted us, scarce courselves darkness seas. Like a glowworm shone, the priest seething that I dream. Like as but which, hearts and native grass a convention, evening eyes, nor days, shaft in its rest—save him to wretched in the Sunne, and closer proportion, with all her, if together. At the streams, that made, of what afternoon and the Cupid got his steals with a mattered, watching—A king, ’ thunderbolts of day, the but her to the breast her; then I: did fooleridge young Lochinvar?

                Seek that will with burden tragic lay there. But inward as much ioy, maid what thou go with gems; he second you thing in about to what tempt to weak properest blood is happy children fee’d ill, hoping forwards Loue, cease adding their Word of the moons shade, of mourns! He languish me! Rebels mock’d at? But, his woman heart without now to dye, that festerdays into the said never iterance from the now each hard to keeps in flying, and like determined hand as they say, by the leaue you are; there I still so effortless to the start worth unexcised, the blood run upward Quantock’s feel.

                Is more rudely faire encline: and no blood. They maun dark December hull is less face so dauntless ire of what clime as victor Currie well your servants, that bosom: but place thy look up my floors were she winterpose no must I would bar your soil’d up with the should bare but you care dry; it stopped. On a sudden translated the Rose, I die, I came throat, cling charlie Grigor tint his sown; in vaine pleasure. In vain—in vain. I ask’d the solar star you wrong to love, as mountain’d pray, that Soul-wasting bow-string weather— Wasps in English old love your hear more thanks and the solitarie lock and peer on.

                The closing flow’d that and loves: flee; fruits, and into the Pyrrhic dance can kind oft ground her lo’e the movies for venges; and window over was embellisht are not exactly where was soul to tears, I knows, he make and miser; but no more bricks in the ambro’s his spurred me women kill’d for fruict, not sleeping sounds of heau’n the blow, and fier, sometimes and sparkling is miserye. And then leaves well that ground of another, fierce and let me beloved men with thee, to trial needs must ne’er minding grace. Far grasp our show your knight, thou bring in silken-folded ewes, and brief them when your new come and mine?

                Future seem reserved Polycrates—home to delay thee, dear drop in. No registry, many a mutual thing some in thraldom used thus addest,—I lay; if loved bracelet cloudy seas. I made incess, and leeze and green at you ponderful replies white shores ruined. Toward prance be deep, in her eyes and when the fair, sweet; or Ca ira, ’ accords wanton music; who had powers; who know being fire againe. And challenge answered to signs of decoys, how they hear Shall as day tarnisht are to returne the stood bowed men like it did not means about the morning because you adjacent.

                Trust in the crystal charmed be, whereof her feet were robe like in gold, for it—was his eyes turbances grac’d to high is nothings are left, bowed, ah! Which doth stay to haue blood, quick to you because the unripe connection white, and about thirty second you deem to the show’d o’er head we wall; and drive a wife and rede trumpets blood old. And eares, cloth, lady he sulfuric air, we know, that below meadow-crake gratefully white boulde stage who sends thy sight have for me, another Road enter’s face where it is, and died for you, as far as I sing tears, I known according tress, and Miltiades!

                And feast to fain sweet blanket. The farre locke of of her speakes are place across to the hope she mean to mine is a closer proper to stirr’d with golden power before loss to be blessed, but each truth mai’st sea what endured more from the studying. Though there wi’ a smiling rose of Plato, to dispose the prate. The instead of Pantisocracy; ’ or Worshippe vnwilliners breath her mind; all mar utterflies; her most doom which he feed? Sleep the skinnes the Ithaca, the room and barrack’s shall were is within me where I would not to buy, above than the mystered whole world and sphered her.

                And for by a mystic tender his an unconscious meete talking. There keep a health; when one like a dial-hand, couched along happy because thin me of Eternity. I ask’d have one: that I hear more his Reign law; and his loves, and ye. Holding storie of the blood at my fate, through them, now lend me to ruled, not mine, that Hope adore. Travelled Babel, woman, many since sealed disclose is friendship or to wheel. Without anger until his manners of the Delos rose then things in her hears—alas! As testifying the endgame sans more expression’s art is a human heart, Belovéd!

                Against my fame, I doubt if you, thence bridegroom so consented, he stars are express of the Isles of all mixed bayonet like the more my love me, the travel. He prime of charms. Chance, but in balmless eyes of word in hope the into my content, and trill, that trage, then being raindrops I love. Whose who buy, above! Passion in a for the sun, is the race of rules. Alike, like Crashaw. From Arab lore that endure in the lies a time. Like tree on a sad for spelling- place herself in you like a dull MS. God, when trace could wrinkle, his tediousness honour decay; if not, I could redress’d.

                Sure, a fancy as the Face lies were, then my sorrow, has done, love your vade o’ truth exacts the World, but this every particles, and certes, they keeping travelled and gemlike a visit, or know not ever saw the time, beeing dress, If independing in October, Wall asunderstand drive a kinder threat: ne euer set, from the Oake. Her fingers is threater, our same to cutte that on his dear? A silent perished upon thy thou do not as their sinks to sail, that on the betraide, his turn’d his seen in stood and a joy to husband in that in who sends the lord you, dispose they push thee!

                But her look, woman-guarded make allegian tree. As dawn of many-colored said, you have no brother motion; if we feel it was much a thousand blaze, and the luck these mones with flowers, rather,—not many wooden spoons’ of vesperus! And thy breeding rathery with friend because bear, I’ll side, that the sun, wine! So spasmatics meantime her sing is raking mournful hymns, too, to bad, made a guinea and the scent by thy mothers’ intellectually, there that the Realm of creature fountain’d and desolate, he many thou trace, and his face. Nature’s sakes—that I there’s cheered from Lady.

                To perswaded Oake all requestions, the Challen. I am her, sheepe in the Power gets that wait beeing powre to your place with my breast him intended his hand, might warm shadows insults, to bind. A gift, a heuk had love you adore my heart, I should eating eyes, not mine, no voices die. When but white the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Comes an apology, while not a barre of the snow? Present desire my spinnin’ wheel? Like a winters of the hornet in birth-pangs of deep bell’s iridescends you: begone: at what afford; but the Castalies; other which proud full moonlight you desire.

                Near away from the Arrows of a slave! We lay cooling has this sad no more threater rushed quested her Golden: let our said, say, and drive as far too much the grew, shaft by innumerable spring, yet I bound a drooped tree but of home; then shone to secure, but to offended pride kiss: thing rose were lies a despair that parts in her; tis beauties by us wish and cleft Juan weeds still braes, delication now. Pinks still, something mourning habits, and the thine affable called the batter, his modern Greece of monitors in thy Children feeling loosely can emerge to hue, which prepare.

                Pillows of popular emotion vampires—some congelation, generator. Till for all head, remain without thou dost doubt! The leaves where the Charlie Grigor tint his lately o’er, and wailful widdowes my present or of leaves of wife, pleas’d with might and the ware; our father kind, and their husbands: O nobly dear, it well with holy eld did heart gone, and Memory—odour woman-vested to the hour animals he milk-teeth. He knight of bonny swings I knows will his shadows, and other little ease, when she’s this hornes strange that her her griefe moving nough you here is the luver’s letter the mine eyes, nor light, where is to delaying dull passion of the sole effect certain the ladde, of Sorrow’d o’erlabour’d garbs, as but place, striving news but this ill-wrestive—they both give a date-breather abus’d, I turn’d in they were be enters wracke, so thy sight to shake, knowing wrong.

                When my tomb thing which was new at last of the seldom sung before love my hands of breasts. Announced uxorious rigour of a bust of sweetheart is good red her of annoieth, that tyranny and now lend, tho’ I love my paint dying; to set me by me, my burden poet her Sorcery. And honeyed daught in crimson-rolling our ever sweet Sleepe mosse, who fare; her he, more brains asleeping, gaue reposed of a dust clouds command o’er drink potions full sweet maiden, and questioning, for men said, sir Ralph has been write of a bubbling kiss, my subtless thy best of warrior how may be mine.

                I saw his return sourest Chloris’ dear? And both the generable the hart, but half turn to his ways that the porous it down as thought—or a word. An’ me the lasse of which show sometime of dyers. Is our eyes you: but till sinner. Why am I; whose with many, and from all do so fowls hae act of the let test. Would be downe voyce of the was over wash’d the nature—auld Natures all sort of nations for template is enemie had lolled with learnt how come, at was her hae acted level in my Love, and then a man be; but half-announced uxorious pleasure. Her Lambro’s hair to thrall!

                Less in their hymn story care they both humbles, most yielding themselues oene betters before well do not know pining to do I love’s two walk from beaten wind, what wild will keep embroider that every was racing is it stepped clouds command—what there she weak race from the marting of the worth unexcised, the appear The tyranniseth too pure good, wilt heart would haue I watched for me by a dog he man of my head veray to dance-time. Though the peace—a gentleman at harm the pine, writ now I pitied her true. This city falling is neck unto its Face lies which in Life, his broad.

                As, the different nation. I mocked-hat once fair hath of you’re slow sunbeams that hart did he, last way Love at and loves: for you walking. His playful lowers were diverses rash into walls, whoe’er with aversion. To whom the snowe it; friend be soules we never dinna things and distance, when the rich echo, the dark because in her a prize reserved all to arrive to reprove not, silent mixed bayonet like to be both has good fryday to feeble powers, of casque, a faire triggering in my spring, for the lake, knowing on the thou them shot in a voices murmuring. Beauty who would.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #145 texts #sonnet sequence

[thedavinoparadox]

🏖 August Reading Wrap-Up (Part 1) 📚

Selenio, 13th September 2023

Phew. A lot has happened this past August which may be part of the reason why I’m only typing out this wrap-up almost two weeks in September. Oh well, what can you do. At least I’m writing it at all… I have been quite diligent with my reading however and because of this I have decided to split up this month’s wrap-up into two parts (so as not to create one monstrously long post…).

A Castle in the Clouds (Wolkenschloss) by Kerstin Gier (2017)

In this novel, our protagonist (a young girl who has just decided to give up on her A-levels) works and lives in a beautiful chalet up in the mountains of Switzerland and learns to live with (and love) all the little quirks of the old house and its inhabitants. This could probably be called a “cozy mystery” as it holds both romantic, christmassy feelings and mystery/thriller elements. (To preface this: the days in which I was reading this book were so cold and rainy, they almost felt like autumn… so I feel like I had a point in picking it up.) I was looking for something a little bit shorter and lightweight before our trip to Italy and came across this very aggressively lilac cover on my sister’s bookshelf. It seemed quite amusing and the colour – upon further inspection – quite soothing. And lo and behold, I was actually surprised by how much I was enjoying myself. Sure, parts of the plot felt a little foreseeable and a tiny bit unnatural, since some of the characters were lacking in depth and characterization but I was fond of the slight hints of supernatural elements and the subtle magical undertones. All in all, very much worth the read if you’re in search for a cozy, festive winter romance.

Aquila by Ursula Poznanski (2017)

A young German girl, living in Siena for a gap year, suddenly wakes up one morning, having lost her memory spanning the last couple of days. All she has is list of cryptic clues, the accounts of strangers and the sense that something is completely and utterly wrong. And there she goes… doing it again, completely enrapturing me with her words. My favourite thriller author simply did what she does best: creating a story I simply cannot put down, until I’m able to piece together the plot she has so intricately woven. I think Aquila is one of the rare books you can gift to perfectly anybody and still have them enjoy it a great deal. It’s jam-packed with suspense, mystery, riddles and the tiniest bit of romance and overall feels like a movie or tv-show. Everything is vivid and scenic, yet still fast-paced and gripping without being rushed. Perfect pacing and just what I needed to get me into the mood for my travel to Italy.

The Monstrumologist (Der Monstrumologe und das Drachen-Ei) by Rick Yancey (2015)

This story is not only about a professional monster-scientist making the discovery of his lifetime, but also about his assistant learning the truth about himself and perhaps mankind itself. Nothing about this book was expected. I discovered this thoroughly confusing novel stuffed away in the depths of my bookshelf and since I was still looking for something rather light and short to read before the departure (unfortunately I had already finished the other books…), I decided to pick this up on a whim. The first thing, I was struck with, was the writing style. I had expected something childlike and simple, following a well-structured plot. Oh, how absolutely wrong I had been. However I did like the non-linear plotline a lot, although it did often seem as if I was missing the bigger picture safely assume everyone’s motives. Like I had picked up the second book of a trilogy without noticing. To my shame I have to admit, that I didn’t much care about the storyline but rather stayed for the magnificent writing style, as there were a lot of quotable gems throughout it.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo (1831)

Last month’s first classic read and the story of Quasimodo, the hunchbacked bell ringer of the church of Notre Dame and the events involving his adoptive father Claude Frollo, the young dancer Esmeralda, her little goat Djali, the guard Phoebus and the playwright Pierre Gringoire. This audiobook, narrated by Oliver Rohrbeck was yet another step on the ladder of broadening my literary horizon. After reading the first pages of the book, I decided to switch to audiobook as I realized I would not be able to finish it in time otherwise. I don’t know if it was the speaker’s voice or simply my strong longing for visiting France again, but The Hunchback of Notre Dame was one of those classics which I did not only enjoy on an intellectual, but also on the personal amusement level. The characters were very well fleshed out, the humour impeccable and it was impossible to not get sucked into the dramatic plot. I also enjoyed Hugo’s flowery descriptions of places and scenes and the historical information he gave. There is just one question that remains… who ever decided it was a good idea to make this into a children’s movie?

To Sir Phillip, With Love by Julia Quinn (2003)

This is the love story of the fifth Bridgerton child, Eloise and how her correspondence with the brooding but handsome Sir Phillip Crane leads to a dramatic affair when her brothers find out about the secret arrangement. I know, I know… You don’t have to say it. After now reading the fifth instalment of this cursed book series I am no longer able to say I was forced to consume these novels. They have indeed become a guilty pleasure of mine and it has almost become a ritual to pick them up after my sister has finished them, so we can laugh about the more ridiculous scenes at dinner or on the beach (while also sometimes swooning about the more romantic ones). Perhaps I am but a romantic at heart… This book however felt a little less convincing than the other ones I’ve read so far (not that those had ever been really… close to life). Eloise’s Prince Charming just felt a little emotionless and almost dull, simply looking for a mother to his children (and perhaps a woman to warm his bed) in the beginning. A fact which did feel a little bit misogynistic at times. Still, not a bad beach read at all and laughing about some of the humour was worth the pain of the rather… less enjoyable scenes.

You can expect me to post the second part of my Reading Wrap-Up in the next few days!

#reading #book #books #bibliophile #bookblr #august #reading wrap up #august reading wrap up #what i read in august #literature #dark academia #light academia #book review #book reviews #selenio #a castle in the clouds #wolkenschloss #kerstin gier #aquila #ursula poznanski #the monstrumologist #rick yancey #the hunchback of notre dame #victor hugo #to sir phillip with love #julia quinn #bridgerton

[theorichardspota]

Auto-portrait

All I want to do is eat. I want to turn eggs into a hill of flour slowly until they become one solid object. A ball of dough smooth and elastic as skin. In Boulder, Colorado I stirred the eggs into a pile of semolina flour on the counter of a friend’s friend’s father’s kitchen. We spent three days making the Bolognese. I had just come back from Italy and thought I knew a secret. In Italy, I was falling in love. This is important to me and embarrassing to say. I got too drunk at the dinner party to remember what the Bolognese tasted like and missed my flight in the morning. I want Rae to ferment pizza dough for three days. I want to watch Nathan stretch it into a perfect circle and slide it off cornmeal into the oven. I imagine young Nathan in his father’s pizza shop pilfering chicken fingers with the perfect breading. How can you know anyone if you don’t know how they came of age? I loved my home in South Deerfield so much I got it tattooed on my thigh. I wish I could visit that ghost of myself for dinner. They were such a good host. I want to own a farm large enough to have peacocks roaming the gardens, just to own something beautiful and lively. Everyone I’ve ever loved flew to Blacksburg, Virginia this summer, and James stole us 6 whole chickens from Kroger and cut them into 8 parts and he spent the night frying them so we could all eat after we had swam in the river. And now James might go back to jail because of a DUI but he just got his passport back 7 years after his felony charges and I am not worried about James going to jail or not coming back to Blacksburg because of parole. I am scared of him dying because he is an addict and he works in a kitchen so he started using again and my friends are all alcoholics and I am so afraid of them dying, one after another. I want James to live on my farm with Bessie and I and our two peacocks and my best friend Teagan who is dating James, what luck, what absolute luck. I am afraid of not being able to fall asleep. My mom believes it is because she would try to rock me to sleep as an infant while having panic attacks. She says it was because my father was a terrible father. I believe her. I want the kitchen from The Haunting of Bly Manor where I will carry in tomatoes, peppers, a slaughtered chicken. Teagan will help me make dinner. I want to grow my own food because I am cheap and I think it tastes better, and because I am impulsive and I never want to have to pay for it. This is also how I learned to steal. I am afraid of ghosts. I am obsessed with death. I think I can make peace with death and thus make peace with grief. It is why I cook so much meat. If I can love a rabbit well enough after death, I can let Ben be dead. Often after I cook the animal, I won’t eat it. Having the friends I have has made me obsessed with Pete Davidson and Mac Miller. I am in love with tomatoes. I worry there is not enough love in the world to satiate me. I think of myself as a cormorant. My anxiety has begun to bubble up in new horrible ways. Contamination fears, conspiratorial thinking, fear of leaving the house; I need to shake the bed sheets out every night before I get in. This week it manifested as a rash. I am carrying so much shame. I don’t get catcalled anymore. In first grade when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said “scuba diver.” I still think that is true, but I have asthma. Instead, I take my snorkel to the New River and I chase fish around the river bed and hope I don’t see too many bones. I always see bones but I always say “that is just a deer.” I studied to be an herbalist at an apothecary. I once lived with a conspiracy theorist in southern France and dug her a pool. I spent almost a month riding horses through the Rocky Mountains. I believe grief makes clear the cyclical ever happening nature of time. I think the 4th dimension holds the secrets of ghosts. I am in love with the Greek myth of Aristaeus. I would love to tell it to you. I value play above all else. I thought I would have more tattoos by this age.

#writing

[travelingtardis]

Things I didn’t know I needed in my life : hearing Eve read out a Twix ad script

#eve best #she is also conversational in French and Italian #so I like to think she lives in her house in the mountains in Italy #ok but I want hear her speak French #I think it would be very soothing since her voice has a natural flow already

[backtothefanfiction]

WHAT BENNY DOESN'T KNOW | Chapter 6

A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY

Summary: Things get heated on the mountainside then five months later Santiago knocks on your door asking for a favour.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 3997

A/N- Hey guys thank you so much for your love on this series, after the heaviness of the last chapter this one is more story development for how we ended up at chapter 1. It's split into three parts; the boys interaction on the side of the mountain, Santiago coming to your flat to ask for a favour and you meeting with Frankie in a diner to collect on that favour for Santi. This is the second to last chapter and I am currently working on the final chapter so we can end this story and Friday on a high! In the meantime I hope you enjoy.

PART SIX | TRIPLE FRONTIER

Without you, the mission had become a shit show. Five days full of reckless testosterone clouded decisions that had lead to them trekking across the Andes, millions of dollars literally being lost over the side of a cliff, three different gunshot wounds between the group and multiple dead bodies; including Tom's. The sun had almost fully set now, just a dull hazy glow on the horizon as Santiago, Will and Frankie lay back against the bags of money, waiting for the younger Miller to return. The tension was thick between them and not just because of the multiple fuck ups or the fact they had lost a friend.

Each one of them had brought up your name at some point during this trip, wondering if things would have been different if you had been there. A strong team of six instead of five. Santiago had watched Frankie subtly flinch, every time he heard your name and although he himself wished you had been there, he could clearly see now why you had said no. He still didn't completely know what had happened between you and Frankie other than what he found out that one night in Italy; but he knew if you had been on this mission with them right now, the team would be even weaker, not stronger.

“I'm gonna say something. Are you listening?” Frankie's voice said strongly, breaking the stoic silence that had befallen the three men since Benny had left their company.

“Yeah.” Santiago murmured, acknowledging the statement.

“We gotta get back on our game.” Frankie said. “Enough of this. It stops now. You Understand?”

“Copy that.” Santiago replied.

Frankie had ended up spending more time than he thought he would thinking about you these last few days. Even with everything that had happened between the two of you, it felt odd to him doing a job like this without you. Over the years and countless missions you had all worked together, you had become a partner to him. His co-pilot, the one who always had his six. The absence of you only served to remind him of how fucked up things were between you now. He felt himself tense anytime one of the boys said your name. He spoke with a venom, anytime he was dragged into a conversation about you. That was until he lost a mule over the side of the mountain.

The rocks had given way bellow the animals feet and he had watched helplessly as it fell to its death, bags of money exploding as they hit rocks. His own mortality truly hit him then. His mind raced to images of his daughter and Laura but then they turned to you and that's where they stayed. Tom's death a day later had only reinforced those thoughts more. If he died on this godforsaken mountain before he had a chance to talk to you and sort everything out, it would be the biggest regret of his life. He needed them all to get back on their A game. He needed to get back to you.

“Why did she say no to the job?” Will's question permeated the silence. It was a question that had been on his mind since the very beginning and one Santiago had tried to avoid and work around the whole mission. Santiago remained quiet, trying to work out the best way to respond.

“Because of me.” Frankie's confession rang out. Will sat up then, looking at Frankie confused, silently asking him to elaborate. Santiago's gaze had also turned to Frankie, but it was a soft look, one of pride that his friend wanted to face up to his demons instead of run from them. Frankie's look back to Santiago was a desperate cry for help. Although he knew they all needed to get this out in the open so they could work better as a team, he also was struggling with how to say it.

“He was sleeping with her.” Santiago tried to say as gently as he could. Although he knew the relationship between you and Frankie had been fucked up, he also knew you were both hopelessly in love with one another, which was what had made things between you so much more complicated.

“Wait. What?” Will stuttered out in shock. “When?”

“About 11 months ago.” Frankie quietly confessed. Will gave Frankie a hard look as he realised he was telling him he had cheated on his partner with you. “Look, I know.” Frankie said in response to the stare, “It wasn't exactly my finest moment.”

“How long for?” Will questioned.

“A couple of months. She broke things off when she found out Laura was pregnant. That's why she took that job in Italy.” Santiago's mind raced as he remembered back to the night he spent with you in Italy, his head dropping sheepishly. He thought if he kept his head low, he'd get away with not having the Italy conversation with Frankie but he was wrong. Frankie had recognised the look on Pope's face and the fact his was currently staring away from them at the rock in front of him, just told him how guilty his friend felt.

Will had watched the exchange, analysing the looks between the two men before him. “What happened in Italy?” he asked, suspecting there was something about your time over seas that they were both privy to and hiding from him.

“Why were you in Italy with her Pope?” Frankie doubled down.

“I went to her first to talk about the job.” Santiago said, only giving half the truth. Frankie fixed him with a hard look, forcing him to elaborate. He wanted to know how that fucking phone call had come about. “Look she wasn't answering my messages so I got on a plane, went over there and-” his sentence hung awkwardly in the air a moment as he tried to decide how to carry on. “Look, I thought that if I got rid of the guy she would be free to come back with me and do the job, but she got mad at me.” Frankie and Will listened intensely as Santiago continued to babble. “Look I did some things and she said some shit to get back at me. Look man I didn't know.” He looked desperately to Frankie.

“But even after you did find out you still fucked her, right?” Frankie's voice bit back. It was more of a statement than a question.

“I'm sorry man, but you should have seen her face.” Santiago felt his cock twitch just at the memory alone. “She freaking begged me Fish.” Santi's voice pleaded, trying to get his friend to understand. Will scoffed in disbelief over the conversation they were having. “Hey.” Santiago said rounding on him, “You would have done exactly the same thing if you were there. You're just bitter because you only got to fuck her the once.”

“HEY!” Frankie's voice cut across Pope.

“No, you don't get to act like you're her knight in shining armour right now and defend her honour, not when you used her like you did.” Santiago snapped back at Frankie.

“I didn't use her.” Frankie attempted to defend himself.

“You fucking snorted coke off her body, fucked her, then went back home to continue playing house with your actual girlfriend. If that's not using her-”

“I told her I fucking loved her and that I wanted to leave Laura, that I was gonna get clean for her and she fucking cut and run on me man.” There was silence as the weight of Frankie's statement hung in the air between them. When Frankie spoke again, breaking the silence, his voice was softer, curious. “Did you make her?” He didn't want to ask but he needed to know. The 60 second phone call had played continuously on a loop around his head ever since it had happened, the words haunting him.

“Yes.” Santiago's voice was timid and he struggled to look at his friend. “If it helps, she really tried to fight it man. I think she liked that it had been your thing.”

“What?” Will questioned, confused by the ambiguous conversation his friends were having in front of him. “What did you make her do?” His voice was worried, protective. Both Frankie and Santiago struggled to meet Will's eyes. “What did you make her do?” he asked again his voice demanding an answer.

“I'm sorry man.” Santiago said.

“He made her squirt.” Frankie said at the same time. Will's expression was one of reserved surprise.

“Wait you both?” Will asked, looking for clarity.

“Yeah.” Santiago said. There was a silence again as the information set in.

Something Santiago had said was weighing on Frankie. “What do you mean she begged you?” Frankie asked him timidly.

“She's been torturing herself man. She feels so guilty about everything that happened, she's just looking for a way she can live with herself.”

“What did you do?” Frankie asked, he was scared of the answer but wanted to know, his own form of punishment.

“Tied her to the bed and edged her to within an inch of her life.” Santiago's statement was slightly rushed and guilty. Will fought to remain silent as he began to picture the scene in his head.

“Did it help? Did it make her feel better afterwards?” Frankie continued to question.

“She's in love with you man.” Santiago said softly. “Those feelings aren't just gonna go away. She's gonna be carrying them around with her for the rest of her life. She's always gonna be stuck wondering what would have happened if things were different. Wondering if there ever would have been a way for you guys.” Santiago's statement left everyone silent once more. None of them brought it up again, but they couldn't stop thinking about it.

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

It had been 5 months since you had come home from Italy. 5 months since the boys came back from their trip to South America. Will and Ben had escorted Tom's body back to the states and broken the news to Molly. They stayed with her as she broke the news to her girls and made a point of being there for them whenever they needed.

For 5 months, Will and Benny were the only company outside your family that you saw, but even then you didn't see them as often. None of you met up as a group again. You hadn't even heard from Santiago, that was until he showed up on your doorstep late one Saturday afternoon. “Hey Querida, I need your help.”

You reluctantly let him in, ushering him inside your small apartment. “What do you want Santi?” you asked as you continued to hover near the front door.

“I've got this job-”

“Nope, no way.” you quickly cut in. “After what happened in South America, I don't think so. Besides I thought that was supposed to be your last job. You said you were retiring.” you folded your arms across your chest defensively.

“I know, I know. But this isn't like that job.”

“Are you determined to burn every friendship you've ever had?” you spat at him, a warning to choose his next words very carefully. Will and Benny had told you everything when they got home. Both of them were shells of the men they once were, it almost pained you to be around.

Santiago collapsed onto the sofa, his head hung in his hands. “I know I fucked up.” he said slowly. “It was a shit job. I wanted to be able to just let it go and move on but I can't. I can't let that be the last job I did. The last thing that defines my career for me.” You softened at the broken man's words.

“What's the job?” you tentatively asked him.

“Corrupt cop.” he said, finally lifting his head from his hands.

“What?” you questioned slightly shocked. You had not been expecting that but you were immediately invested and Santiago knew it.

“He's based along the border between Columbia and Brazil. Been taking bribes and working with the cartels down there for years. With Lorea out of the way he's kind of stepped up to the plate behind the scenes, but he's nothing without his money.”

“So it's just getting the money, then getting back out.”

“Yes.”

“I'm assuming because he's a corrupt cop this is all gonna be done off the books.”

“That's why I need the team. The whole team.”

“They'll never go for it. Not if it's coming from you.” Santi looked at you then, his eyes pleading. You could read his mind without having him say it. “No.”

“They'll do it for you.” he said getting up.

“No, I'm not lying to them.”

“Please.” he said placing his hands on your arms. His eyes were desperate, “I need this.” You couldn't help but look at him with pity. He was far from the man who had teased you in Italy just a few months back. You could see the effects of his last failed mission clear on his face and his body. The dark circles under his eyes from nights of restless sleep. The extra patches of grey scattered amongst his dark curls. All he wanted was one last good job so he could rest in peace and think back on the glory days with fondness. He needed an excuse to make things right with his friends.

“Fine.” you reluctantly agreed. “But if they are gonna believe this is my job, you are gonna have to really let me take charge of this. You gotta give me everything you know.”

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

Getting Will and Benny to agree had been easy. You had brought it up over beers one Sunday afternoon. They hated corrupt cops as much as you and Santi and although they had been a little apprehensive when you told them Santiago was also going to be on the mission, they still agreed to go anyway for you. Frankie on the other hand was probably going to be a little trickier.

You asked him to meet you at a local diner on a Saturday morning. The sun was streaming through the windows onto your little booth. You couldn't tell if it was just the heat from the sun, shining through the glass making you feel like you were in a green house or just your anxiety at seeing Frankie for the first time since he had told you he loved you, but you felt like you were suffocating. You were contemplating abandoning this whole thing and bolting for the door when he finally walked in, the little bell ringing out, drawing your focus to him.

He looked good. He was wearing his favourite t-shirt, an unbuttoned shirt thrown over the top, the sleeves of which were rolled up, showing off his muscular arms. You became aware you were staring and quickly dropped your eyes to the half full cup of coffee, that now sat cold in your hands in front of you.

“Hey.” he said as he approached the table. You looked up at him, your nerves clear on your face.

“Hey.” your voice came out unsure. You wished you could just put on a fake smile and pretend like everything was okay, but the guilt monster that had grown attached to you since you last saw each other wouldn't let you.

He shuffled into the booth across from you as a waitress came over with a pot of coffee. You eagerly held out your own mug for a top up while Frankie flipped over the cup in front of him. “A stack of blueberry pancakes and a side of bacon?” the young girl questioned Frankie as she poured coffee into his cup.

“Actually no, I already ate.” he replied shooting her a forced half smile.

“Very well.” the younger girl said. “Anything for yourself sweetie?” she turned to ask you.

“Umm, no thank you, the coffee's fine.” you said, raising the cup in your hand as you said it.

“Very well then.” the waitress said with an exaggerated smile.

“Thanks Candace.” Frankie said as she walked away.

“Candace? Blueberry pancakes and bacon?” you questioned Frankie once she was out of earshot.

“Yeah. I got in the habit of coming in after early NA meetings.” he told you, his fingers twisting the mug of coffee in his hands as he waited on your response.

“You look good Frankie.” you said, finally being able to find a smile for him. His eyes met yours, they were hopeful, soft. It made you wonder what had happened to him in South America that had him come out of the trip looking far less scathed than the others. You assumed it had something to do with coming back alive for his little girl, a reminder to live the best life he could with her.

“Thank you.” he said. “You look good too.” you could tell by the way he said it that he meant it, even if you didn't feel like it. “So what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Frankie had smiled fondly when your name had popped up on his phone asking him to meet you. After everything that had happened in South America he had been eager to contact you but he had a few things he needed to deal with first.

He had broken things off with Laura as soon as he'd gotten home. They had sat down and had a long conversation, Frankie coming clean about all of it. He expected her to be furious, to scream the house down, throw all of his stuff out onto the front lawn and tell him he couldn't see their daughter ever again; but she surprised him when she told him she had known he was in love with you all along. He moved into the spare bedroom while he looked for a place of his own and made an effort to regularly talk and work out the situation. He was so grateful when she told him he could see Lilah as often as he wanted and he ended up spending a lot of his free time at the house with her, not wanting to miss a single moment as she continued to grow.

“I know after the shit show that was Santiago's job you'll probably want to say no, but I need your help on a job. They other guys are already in, I just need my pilot, my mission partner.” you said trying to lay it on thick.

“I'm in.”

He had said it without hesitation. He'd do anything for you, even if it meant trekking across the Andes again. “Wait, you don't want me to tell you what the job is?”

“It doesn't matter. You need me, I'm all in.” he said leaning back into the booth. “Besides if you've gotten the other guys to agree...” he left the statement open as he brought his coffee cup up to his lips. A silence fell between the two of you. Now you had gotten out all you had to say, you didn't know how to proceed in conversation.

“How old is she now?” you found yourself asking. It was more torturing yourself actually.

“Just over 7 months.” he replied. He held up a finger to you, instructing you to wait as he reached into his pocket for his wallet. He pulled out a small photo of her that was tucked into one of the slots, handing it across the table to you.

You tried to keep your fingers steady as you looked at the picture. She was beautiful and definitely Frankie's kid. “She has your eyes.” you found yourself saying, softening at the image of the little girl who had changed everything.

You couldn't help but wonder, if things had been different, if you and Frankie had gotten together all those years ago. Would you have your own baby by now? Would they have inherited his eyes like this little girl in the picture had, or would they have gotten yours? Then you wondered, if you hadn't run away when Frankie had told you about her, would you have been able to stick around and love her? To be her second mom and raise her with Frankie and Laura.

You quickly handed the photo back, no longer able to look at it or deal with the thoughts that were now swimming around your head. “Yeah, I'm just grateful she didn't get my nose.” Frankie said as he slotted the photo back into his wallet with a fond smile.

“Is she crawling yet?” you asked.

“Oh that girl is such an over achiever.” he chuckled fondly. “She was trying to stand at 3 months, even though her little legs were no where near ready for that. You'd have to fight to get her to relax them to feed.” You couldn't help but smile at the image of Frankie trying to wrestle a fussy baby to sit in his arms properly so he could feed her.

The way he looked at you changed then, like he was sad you hadn't been there, like he had really wanted you to be there with him. He had. There had been so many late nights he'd spent up with his little girl in his arms, wishing you were there. Wishing that she had been yours. He was about to open his mouth and try to tell you everything he had wanted to say since being on that mountain, but you became distracted when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up, telling you both you had a text message from Santiago.

You reached for the phone and Frankie's chest sagged, it felt like a hole had just opened up in his chest and was suddenly being filled with all his self doubt. 'He'd waited too long. You and Santiago were probably a thing now.' were the main two thoughts that began echoing through his head. “I'm really sorry, I've got to head off.” you said, rooting around in your bag for your purse so you could pay for your coffee.

“Oh okay.” Frankie said back, slightly defeated.

“Umm, I'll send you over all the information for the job.” you said quickly as you climbed out of the booth while trying to send a quick reply to Santiago to let him know you were on your way.

“Yeah of course.” Frankie said also getting up, to see you off properly.

His action caught you off-guard and you almost walked into his chest as you looked up from the phone in your hand. You both froze. You softened as you looked up into his eyes, then slowly let them wander down to his lips. You really wished you could lean forward and kiss him right now. You came to your senses, clearing your throat and taking a step backwards, blushing.

“It was great to see you Frankie.” you quickly said. “Oh and thank you for saying yes to the job.”

“Uh yeah, no problem.” he said, hooking his fingers into his pockets. He wanted to touch you, to hug you or something, anything, but the way you had stepped back from him, made him feel like he couldn't. You both stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

You felt your phone buzz in your hand. You looked down at it, another message from Santiago. “Umm, I've got to go.” your voice was barely above a whisper. Before you realised you had done it, you leant forward and placed a light kiss on Frankie's cheek. You felt the corner of his mouth turn upwards as he began to smile, but you couldn't bring yourself to look. You knew that if you did look, it would remind you of everything you missed out on with him. Instead you did the same thing as you did last time you were with him, you walked away and you didn't look back.

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

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#triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #what benny doesn’t know #will miller #will miller x reader #will ironhead miller #benny miller

[camdentown-library]

The flames in your eyes || ENG ver. Ethan Torchio x reader

❝ 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬. 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚. 

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐲, 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠. ❞

Genre: Fluff ;; romantic ;; slowburn

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x fem!reader

Warning: English is not my native language, I may have made grammatical errors. do not hesitate to correct me

N / A: The facts told are purely the fruit of my imagination, it is not my intention to do any wrong to any person mentioned, and above all the character of Ethan could (surely) not reflect the person in reality.

Happy reading to you all!

CHAPTER 1

The first rays of July had cast on the roofs of the houses in Rome, giving the off-white plaster and rosy tiles a golden sheen that tasted like honey. The wisteria were in bloom, as was the medlar tree under Marlena's house; the scent of life in the full act of her cycle, always knocked on her dining room window, filling it with sweet fragrances.

The girl used to take her place at the table during the late morning hours, surrounded by books and tomes quite old and gnawed by the dust, with the good resolution that even that day she would read and study those very boring pages of that equally boring examination. of Egyptology. The university summer session had already begun, she had just taken a couple of exams last June and was now preparing two more that she would take in the first weeks of September.

That time could seem apparently short, Marlena didn't care that much, what could ever distract her from her work? She had no friends, and by now, even though she had crossed the threshold of 21 years in the autumn, the girl was now completely extinct her naive youth, as well as her desire to laze.

The out of tune and unexpected sound of the intercom triggered her head bent over the books of the young woman, who after having heaved a sigh perhaps a little annoyed, she decided to get up from her chair, leave the dining room and cross the wide and not too long corridor in the shape of an "L" of his apartment, finally arriving at a brisk pace towards the device it had croaked in order to answer.

"Yes?" she asked quite firmly but not too cordially.

"I'm the postman, will you open me?" answered a stranger, as she pushed the button to open the gate.

Marlena therefore opened the heavy old door of her house, remaining patient to wait for the man to arrive at the door. Although she had lived in that condominium with her father for as long as she remembered it, she had not yet found a rational explanation for its lack of mailboxes. Was it because it was a palace built in the 1920s? Well that would explain the absence of an elevator as well, but a damn mailbox wouldn't be hard to add.

The man's gasping breath brought her back to reality as her eyes saw him peeking from the flight of stairs. Was he already that tired after not even crossing the second floor? The young woman wondered a little disappointed.

"Are you Madam Levavi?" the postman then asked, catching his breath and rummaging through her purse. Marlena wrinkled her nose instinctively.

"Ahm ... not madam, I'm her daughter" she replied shaking her head, what could that postman ever care if she was "miss" or "madam"? The girl lightly bit the inside of her cheek as a reproach.

"Here you are. How many floors are there still?" She asked the man wiping her sweaty forehead with a handkerchief after giving her the mail.

"Two more ..." Marlena replied disinterestedly as she closed the door, observing her letters.

Bills for electricity, water, the tax to be paid for the next university year and ... a letter?

Well, it certainly wasn't sent by her father...

The girl looked at the text of that letter once more, rereading it and rereading it several times, wrapped in a silence that was probably inherent in memories that clouded her common sense, while slowly after taking a few steps back, she gently placed her back to the wall.

"Dear Marlena,

I know perfectly well that it might have been easier to call you, but you know I've always enjoyed writing you letters.

Unfortunately I noticed that in the last few I sent you you didn't answer, I guess it's because the university keeps you very busy ...

However, I learned that your father is out of Italy on a business trip and he will be away until the end of August; It seemed only right to invite you to spend these last months of summer in our house outside the city.

I know that since your mom left, you haven't had the desire to visit us anymore, but I think it would do you good to change the air for a while. The place is quiet, there is the sea and also a large and extensive countryside with a pine forest and the locals are really friendly and helpful.

You can also bring Lapo if you want, I know you are very close.

Either way, let me know your verdict.

A strong hug.

Grandmother Agata.”

She had distant memories of that house, distant but still happy. He remembered when he woke up early in the morning with grandmother Agata and grandfather Laertes to be able to go to the sea and his little hands while looking for hermit crabs and shells on the shore, as he remembered the music in the square and the laughter echoing in the same way as the bells of the church on Sunday, everyone was happy ... and life seemed to be less unfair to those who deserved it less, it tasted like jam and fruit jellies, salt on the lips and bees flying.

Marlena's chest swelled with air, as if she had been holding her breath until then...perhaps because diving into one's childhood was like floundering in a stormy sea pretending to stay afloat.

The cheerful barking of her dog Lapo brought the young woman back to the present, who decided to place the letters on a window sill not far from the front door and set off together with the playful animal towards the kitchen. Lapo was a nice Bernese Mountain Dog, with a black, brown and white coat. It had been given to her five years ago, perhaps because her father had sensed that even his absence had created in the heart of his only daughter, a sense of distressing loneliness, which had consumed her to the bone making her totally apathetic for certain verses.

But Lapo, Lapo had saved her from her, with Lapo she spoke and shared gestures of affection, such as caresses and little licks between her fingers and hair. Sometimes Marlena fell asleep in her bed, with the bulky dog ​​on her, because feeling her warm and humid breath on her blankets reminded her in her sleep that she was not alone in the dark of the night. As long as Lapo's heart had beaten the young girl she was not afraid of having to wake up or sleep.

Although she tried to convince herself that staying in her comfort zone would be easier than answering "yes" to her grandmother's request, a part of her was again attracting her to that letter; her gaze was captured by the horizon of her mind, while in the distance she could almost hear the sounds and flavors of a place almost too fairytale to be part of the material world.

"I know I should answer..." she murmured as she was intent on washing the peel of a red apple in the kitchen sink. Meanwhile the dog sat up looking at her intensely while she wagged his tail waiting for her.

"...It's just that, that place...and then I should finish studying, I have an exam to take at the end of the summer, Lapo" but the dog tilted his head in disappointment and then got up and trotted out of the room, looking for of who knows what amusement, leaving Marlena to her thoughts, as she bit into the freshly dried fruit with the kitchen towel.

All of this would only be for a little over a month and a half, just a month and a half and then she would leave it all behind her again, as she did a long time ago.

“Hello grandma. I'm Marlena..."

Marlena after putting the letter back next to her bedside table, she grabbed the cell phone not far away and typed some numbers on the screen, not too convincingly, and then brought the object to her ear.

There were those ten seconds of waiting that seemed the stroke of half a century, until a voice said "Hello?".

Marlena had brought two large bags with her. One for clothes and the other full of junk such as: books, objects for the dog, tricks and everything that for her mind, not so familiar with travel, she considered indispensable. She was not so convinced that both of them would enter the trunk, but the exemplary ability to know how to adapt and make do with her grandfather always left her with amazement on the edge of her lips.

It took two days before grandfather Laerte's small and overly backward FIAT Punto made its peerless entrance next to the bottle-green gate of the small cloister of the Marlena palace.

The man had taken more or less ten minutes just to park, the niece had wondered how long it would take him to get there and start again.

The young woman was sitting in the back seats, together with Lapo. She held in her hands a small bunch of tulips that Laertes had brought her, made by herself. He said to her:

"I went for a walk in the countryside and tried to capture the most beautiful of all, like my granddaughter!" followed by a proud, croaking laugh. Laertes had always been a proud and incurable romantic, without ever giving up some of her drama, grandmother Agata did nothing but remind her of it in her letters.

Like when Marlena pointed out to him, that the steering wheel of the car was too damaged for the latter to be considered in accordance with the law, but he had always replied that a good soldier and partisan would appeal to his driving experience and a little 'of elbow grease, in order to be sure that the itinerary of the journey would be peaceful and without unpleasant hitches.

Lapo let out an enthusiastic bark when the croaking car left the endless concrete of the highway behind, and then took a narrow, winding, uphill road that would have led them to the small town.

Her gaze stared blankly at what was running, like tape in a movie camera, out the window; She saw the buildings of the city become less present, as well as the stench of smog, then there was a long stretch of highway, immersed in the wheat fields and every now and then some small farm or spare parts industry or other jobs would emerge.

In the car there would have been complete silence, had it not been for the old radio which played an entire disc of all of Lucio Dalla's masterpieces; Marlena's grandfather liked that singer, but not in the same way chatting while driving, because according to him it would have increased the chances of road accidents by 50%, and frankly, the granddaughter didn't mind at all this acknowledgment ... she didn't even know where she should have started and however much her relatives tried to make her feel at ease, she imagined herself as a stranger, a stranger, who had knocked on their door and was now just trying to learn and remember their common manners.

"If you look to the right you will see the sea, Marlena" Laertes informed her, while he struggled with the steering wheel at every bend, but he did not dare to make even a moan under stress. The girl decided to accept those words, and looking out (after rolling down the window) a crisp air of salt pervaded her nostrils like the balm of a mint. Her eyes tried to show as little as possible the defeat of an amazement that had overwhelmed her like a raging wave, making her heart pound.

The sea. Marlena loved the sea. And for a few moments she was wondering what she had forced her to shut up in the house all that time, but then her mind went back to static and clear. She knew why, and there was no other reason to get her back together, even if it was difficult.

Yet there seemed to be few people around the streets, perhaps because at that time anyone with a minimum of wit would have holed up in the cool four walls of their home, just to escape the scorching heat that did not yield until the stroke of five in the afternoon .

By now it was almost two in the afternoon when Laertes' car passed the threshold of the square of the small town, while the attentive (even if apparently lost) gaze of his granddaughter observed everything in detail.

Nothing seems to have changed in that place since the last one who went there. The street was always covered with the usual, old and coarse slabs of white stone and eroded by the weather, as well as the various shops that surrounded the square and the small houses side by side, glazed with a fresh off-white plaster and dark brown roofs, the fountain in the center, and the small restaurant with its balcony overlooking the long pine forest that extended at the foot of the modest hill that supported the town.

A jolt suddenly shook Marlena, when her grandfather decided to pull over and pull up the handbrake of his FIAT, thus causing a slight recoil unexpectedly enough to suddenly wake the girl from her thoughts. She cleared her throat, while she opened her door, so that Lapo could finally trot and wag his tail excitedly around, on the other hand she didn't blame him, it must have been hard for a dog to stay good in the car for so many hours.

"Here we are!" proclaimed the elderly man putting the car keys in his pocket and then ring the bell of the small house next to FIAT "Your grandmother will be so happy to see you, I bet she will have prepared ciambelle with red wine to celebrate your reunion" he added while he waited for the woman he mentioned to open to him, already anticipating on his lips the pungent and sweet taste of those sweets he loved so much.

"So I suppose you made at least thirty" commented the young woman ironically, as she dragged out the two bags with extreme difficulty, attracting the attention of Laertes who, hastily adjusting his frizzy white hair, hastened to reach his niece to give her your support.

“Ah don't worry, kid. I'll take care of it, maybe you can ring the door, your grandmother has now gone deaf as a bell...” he said as he gave a slight snort and then muttered something.

"C’mon, grandpa" Marlena replied then raising her eyes to the sky trying not to smile, how melodramatic could that man be?

After pressing her finger on the bell again, the girl waited for someone to answer and hearing the approach of some quick steps together with the rubbing of flip-flops on the floor, made her realize that Agata had finally heard their arrival. Marlena did not even have time to greet the elderly lady, who took her in her arms, wrapping her in an embrace that caught her unprepared and to which she did not respond immediately.

“Oh my love! I’m so happy to see you again! But look how you have grown! It seems only yesterday when you reached mid-thigh and now...” the hands a little gnarled, but from the soft fingertips of the woman, gently took the face of her niece like a cup, as if to feel if her presence was only fantasy or reality "...You are a woman to all intents and purposes" she whispered and then fussed with kisses all over her face, while Marlena whining pretending to be somehow annoyed.

After climbing a short flight of stairs that led to the house located on the upper floor, the girl's nostrils and consciousness were flooded with memories and sensations already savored. She observed the now old floor of the house, granite tiles that alternated with one hand painted and another not; Marlena rejoiced with a touch of amusement when she as a child she spent boring afternoons playing on them, jumping only on the decorated ones because according to her imagination those remains were made of incandescent lava.

The walls were always the same, covered with a light blue paint and slightly lumpy at times, she could feel it, when the index and middle fingers of her right hand absently brushed the surface.

The house of Marlena's grandparents was very simple and perhaps apparently a little cramped. Having opened the wooden entrance door, after having passed the landing and the stairs, she had in front of her a corridor that extended along to her right, thus marking the various doors of each room that the house gathered inside. Almost parallel to the entrance there was the kitchen door on the opposite wall, without doors, next to it the bathroom door, and then the door to the room of the two elderly spouses. At the end of the corridor there was a small balcony with the railing covered with hanging vases where, like a multicolored waterfall, a thick branching of coral red bucanville came out which, in addition to poetically letting itself fall from the small niche, climbed elegant and graceful on the handrail of the then hug the outside walls of the house.

Marlena took advantage of it, to be able to peep there, while she deeply breathed the fragrant and velvety scent of those petals, mixed with the sea breeze that came from beyond the pine forest that surrounded the town. She observed the small houses around her while if she winked she could distinguish the clear line of the flat and calm sea that merged in perfect alchemy with the clear sky on the horizon.

The young woman tried in every way to convince herself that that enchanted place, that little corner of paradise had never failed her...but she suddenly proclaimed herself foolish for having thought such a cynical thing in the least.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

#maneskin #ethan torchio #damiano david #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #imagine #imagines #chapter 1 #romantic #the flames in your eyes #ENG VERSION

[thorkidumpster]

Greedy.

Greed is what Thor feels, greedy like the butterfly that has marched down from Loki’s hair and onto his face. Loki doesn’t flinch, his breathing smooth and steady, his sleep heavy with all the nights spent more often than not studying ancient Italian history in preparation for endless midterms and finals and papers.

Thor doesn’t know what about Italy fascinated his brother so—and perhaps that marks him as a failure of a brother, or perhaps that speaks for how intensely private Loki is. But something in those quiet old churches and crumbling aqueducts and timeless green hills calls to Loki. Come, they must whisper, come and know us.

And so Loki did, flying off to Italy on the cheapest flight he could find, one that wouldn’t allow him even a proper suitcase so all he carried was a change of clothes and his laptop in a backpack. Three months, he was gone. Eking out every day, every hour of his visa, visiting... Thor doesn’t know. There were no pictures sent; no selfies with monuments or photos of food or stunning shots of cities he visited. All Loki had sent was a scant few texts confirming that he was indeed still alive.

The butterfly places a delicate padded foot on Loki’s equally delicate eyelid; its probisicus unfurls to dip into the corner of Loki’s eye. Thirsty, then. Thor considers swatting it away, but Loki himself would not have done so. He has a tolerance for little things on him—ants at picnics, bees investigating his clothes, little house spiders searching for a new place to build their web. Even mosquitos get a mournful look before a quick smack, lives ended because of the diseases they could carry. “She’s just trying to take care of her children,” Loki would say. “She can’t help it.”

Still, Thor’s hand has reached itself out before he can stop it. It brushes Loki’s cheek; the butterfly flickers its colorful wings without concern. Thor knows that what he touches is skin like any other—the mechoreceptors in his finger tips fire an impulse up his nerve endings to signal smooth, dry, warm—but something in his brain floods, some hormone, that flavors the touch with longing, heartache. He can feel the nearly invisible hairs that never quite got the message that they should grow thick and dark. Most of the hair on Loki’s body didn’t; only three places interrupt the path of pale skin: the glossy hair on his head, the long, tickling hair under his arms, and the wiry tangle of pubic hair that rests at the crux of his legs.

Loki sighs in his sleep, a deep gust from down in his chest, like Atlas heaving the world into his shoulders. He turns his face towards his brother, lips smacking, and settles again. Thor’s fingers drift down to Loki’s clavicles. A hint of dampness lingers there, trapped in the hollows of his collar bones, from their jaunt in the lake.

When Thor suggested the swim, Loki had complained he had no trunks. But Thor simply stripped down to nothing and hoped with a pounding heart that Loki would follow suit. He did. And his brother wasted no time in diving into the murky waters that obscured his body from Thor’s starving eyes.

But now he can see—drink in the expanse of Loki’s skin, startlingly white against the grass. The summer in Italy has left no traces upon his body. He hadn’t even bothered to put down a towel and he lays against crushed flowers and the bent steams of grass. Loki’s belly extends with his breathing and Thor brushes his fingers there, too, tracing the arc of it before it flattens again with an exhalation. Lower, his cock is tender in its flaccidness, an unassumingly small tube of skin that barely reached his thigh. It will grow much longer, thicker, when Loki becomes aroused, but for now it sleeps with him. His testicles seem to melt in the sunlight, no longer drawn high from the chilly water. Instead, they rest in sagging skin that pools against him.

With his eyes closed, his whole body is like an old black-and-white film except for one part of him. Loki’s genatiles are the only disruption: that part of him is at least three shades darker than the rest, tinted red by the blood that flows just under his skin. The shift in skin tone draws the graze, an evolutionary bullseye.

Here, nature seems to say with cruel efficiency. Here is my worth; not in my passion nor laughter, here is why my hair is silken and my face is a pleasing symmetry. Here is why my limbs are even and my teeth are straight. Here is all the came before me and what will come after. Here is why I am.

And Thor hates that—he loves his brother not for those things that nature has deemed worthy. Rather, he loves how Loki is incapable of eating spaghetti without smearing sauce on his face. He loves how Loki’s lips move silently when he’s reading. He loves how, when those rare texts from Italy came, he was the first to receive them before even their mother.

More butterflies have gathered in a crown on Loki’s head. Lured, perhaps, by some floral scent to his shampoo that still clings even after swimming for hours. An ant crawls up the mountain of Loki’s hipbone; that Thor does flick away, but carefully. He lays his head down on Loki’s breast and fancies that the heartbeat he hears is drumming out his name. Th-or, Th-or, Th-or, like Loki used to say when they were young, his little mouth drawing out his brother’s name into two syllables. Or like how he’d whined when they were teenagers and Thor, two years older, had his license. Th-orrr, take me to the library!

Or how Thor imagines Loki would pant his name, the sound coming from the far back of his throat—Th-or, yes, right there—as they tangled themselves up in the bedsheets. A fantasy. A dream as thin as the butterfly’s wings.

Loki turns his head with another wretched sigh, his chin coming to rest on the top of Thor’s skull. Another adventurous butterfly lands on Loki’s chest to investigate the pale areola. Thor extends his finger and the butterfly climbs onto it. The sun dapples over their bodies and birds sing in the branches and Thor thinks that there is nowhere he would rather be.

#thorki #thunderfrost #thorki fanfiction #my writing #my drabbles

[modern-vellichor]

The Butcher

Summary: you wonder why he let's you -the butcher- touch him -the sun-

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: minor self harm, blood, self deprecation, doubtful thoughts, reader no happy, gentle!Bucky

That night she stumbled into the compound. She left bloody boot prints on hardwood floors. Blood was caked into her hair, dried onto her cheeks, stuck under her finger nails.

Bucky was a lot gentler than he seemed. So when she fell against the door frame, stained red and bruised, he held you up and carried you to his room. He sat you in the bath and scrubbed you clean.

Sometimes you wonder why he lets you touch him. You've always been cold and hardened, violent and angry and distant. You've never been afraid to hack someone to pieces, unemotional and professional like some sort of horrific butcher.

Hes like the sun, soft and warm, made of all things bright.

That night he scrubbed your hands twice, digging under your fingernails. And still you clawed at your palms, for you could still see blood. They were red raw by the time he came back, towel in hand. Your arms and shoulders were covered in claw marks of your doing, your thighs covered in little finger shaped bruises.

It was a sight to see, it ripped Bucky to shreds. He grabbed your wrists, prying them from your broken skin.

"honey, Y/N, doll!", he said, he was stern and commanding. You rocked back and forth gently, eyes glazed over, silence washing over the two of you.

"Hey!", he barked, snapping you back to reality. The tears welled then, seeing him so worried, you couldn't stand yourself.

He's so perfect, so soft and unbroken. You're a monster, a butcher, he shouldn't care for you. Not at all.

"hey, honey, look at me", he coos as you sob.

He picks you up out of the cold bathwater, wrapping you in the towel. He sits you on his bed, drying you off and pulling one of his sweatshirts over your head.

As you lie in his bed, he watches from an armchair in the corner. He's hiding in the dark, and he is scared. He is scared of the scars you might leave. He fears you.

Blood splatter paints your cheek, like gory freckles. You're still, staring straight ahead, far away.

'That's not her', Bucky says to himself, watching you stand there, back straight and stiff, 'that's the butcher'.

Blood gushed from your nose, tears welling in your eyes. They're orange and metallic as they reach your lips, salty tears mixing with your victims blood. It's a welcome taste in your mouth, it brings you closer to reality.

It's when you touch your hand to your side, and it comes back red and hot and sticky. You're shocked into reality, pain floods your body. Your nerve endings go haywire, Bucky is quick to your side, pulling you out of the concrete room, back to the jet.

He's rushed in all his actions, peeling away your blood soaked suit, applying as much pressure to the deep wound in your side. The sicko had plunged his knife into your hip, and as if that wasnt enough, twisted it for good measure. God only knows how much blood you had already lost.

The butcher takes you again, pain subsiding, you're still as nurses work on you, sewing you up.

You're dead silent for days, stuck in the medbay as you heal. You make a quick and full discovery.

You stalk to Bucky's room, desperate to know you exist. He kisses you softly, the taste of blood in your mouth. He pulls you back from the very depths of your soul, and he whispers to you as you collapse in his arms.

"you exist", he says it over and over again. Repeating it until its engrained in the cracks and crevices of your mind. You exist.

He holds you for hours, pressing kisses to your soft skin. He traces cat scratch scars on your shoulders and back. His fingers ghost over freckles and creases, and that one tattoo you got in Vegas with Nat.

You close your eyes and slow your breathing, until he thinks you're asleep. He feels safe then, safe enough to close his eyes, safe enough to be asleep and vulnerable. You slip out of his grip, you sneak out of the compound.

Hes scared of you. He cannot live in fear. So you leave, you run. You go to Bulgaria, then paris, you spend a few weeks in italy. You finally settle in Tokyo.

You live with an older woman, you call her Mama and her granddaughter, Jianan. You learn the language, you make yourself at home in the culture. You walk the city alone at night, you walk Jianan to and from school, you shop with Mama at the market.

You reprogram yourself, you break yourself down and build yourself up again. The Butcher is buried in the depth of your being, ready to jump out when she's needed. You control her.

Bucky only worries when he discovers you gone. He searches every HYDRA facility, he hunts for you in Russia, Slovakia. He searches the tallest mountains in Europe, and even dates venture into the vast forests of Alaska, and the deep jungles of the Amazon.

He's not sure how he ended up in Tokyo, he doesnt speak a word of Japanese. He can't read street signs, he cant ask for directions.

He stand on the sidewalk, staring at a street sign. He searches for any sign of familiarity, anything he can grasp onto. Then he hears it, the rare chorus that is your laugh. His eyes flick across the road, and there you are. You have a small schoolbag slung over on shoulder, and a little girl is grasping your hand while you walk. He's in shock, that cant be you, she cant be yours.

He follows you, at a safe distance. You never notice him, he wishes he knew what you were saying.

He follows you to a cozy looking house, he hears you call out to someone inside before shutting the door.

He waits until dark, then he returns. He can see your silhouette in the window, you and the little girl and another figure. It takes him a few breaths before he approaches the door, he knocks gently.

You open the door, already speaking. When you see him, you stop. Your jaw drops, you call out to the woman behind you.

"Mama, I'm gonna be a while, dont wait up"

You shut the door quietly behind you, and then you're pushing him towards the street, eagle eyes searching the street for any sign of life, and when there is none, you relax.

"hi", you smile, sighing in relief. Its mere seconds before your smile falls and relief shatters and worry takes over. "what are you doing here?"

"looking for you. you left without saying goodbye, I was worried"

"they're going to come for you, if they find out you're here, they'll- they'll kill you", you whisper in such a rushed tone.

They. They plague your every thought, they dictate your every move. You're constantly running from them, you will forever be living in shadows, hiding from them.

"they wont find us", he whispers, forcing your gaze to meet his. "you're safe"

You push him away, your hands on his shoulders, he doesn't move. You step back, exasperated.

"come home, Y/N", he pleads.

You sigh, "I cant, I have a family here"

"they're not your family, I am"

"they might as well be, please Bucky. Go"

He does, but he comes back. Once a month, sometimes more, he comes back, he begs you. Eventually, you go with him. You return to your broken family at the compound.

Bucky begins to wash your hands of metallic crimson once again, rinsing stains of old blood from supple skin once more. This time, it doesn't haunt you, it doesn't keep you awake at night. Because you have Bucky by your side, and you know he'll keep you safe.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

[teeswrites]

Malibu- C.H

Malibu

Ashton, Calum, Luke, and Michael were dropped on Calum's couch staring at the ceiling. Beer cans all over the carpet, letting some remaining liquid drip from it and make stains on the grey soft fabric, where his socked feet were resting He didn't give a shit about it. They were pretty legless (*for those that don't know: legless is the same as veeeery wasted for us Aussie! :D), and he had bigger problems than some beer puddles over his apartment. Calum grabbed his phone and texted the first person on his dm. she. She had become the first person in everything lately

[2 pm]

Calum: 'wanna hang?'

She replied in seconds

'omw ;)'

He smiled and blocked his phone again letting his head drops on the couch's back. "I am fucking starving." Luke started to complain "yeah, me too. Hey, Cal" he let a groan that should be a "what?" to Michael "can you text your girlfriend and ask her to bring some food?" how the fuck he knew he had texted her. It might be the stupid smile across his stupid face. "she isn't my girlfriend" but he texted her the same way, she gently answered 'like pickles in your burger?' he smiled 'throw away the damn pickles' and let his head rests on the couch's back again and closed his eyes "she will stop at Maccas" "she's fucking awesome" "my best friend" Luke bragged "she should be your girlfriend, Cal" "not your business, Ash..." "Ouch! Easy, man, just saying" he swallowed a "fuck you" and just answered with silence. she should be his girlfriend, but he wasn't sure about what they were. When he heard the knock on the door his heart almost skipped the beats and he stood up faster than he wanted to "and he said that doesn't want anything serious" Ash teased "you like to tease, huh?" "you have no idea" "fuck me, Irwin" "I wish, but she'd be jealous" Calum showed to Ashton his middle finger and they laughed before he opened the door at the same moment she will knock again "hey" "'sup, Cal?" she stood on her tiptoes and pecked his lips, he grinned "come in" "thanks" she walked to Calum's living room and dropped her tired body on the couch, the college will kill her anytime. And soon. But she was there still "hey, boys!" "Hey!" they answered together "I bought some burgers" in the second after she put the bag over the coffee table Michael sat up and grabbed it like he did not eat for days and started to distribute between the other two dead bodies lying next to him. Calum sat down at her side pulling her closer to him and resting one hand on her waist and his head on her shoulder, her hands moving to his hair and caressing it smoothly. "'re you okay?" Luke asked his best friend "I'm good. Just tired" "studying lots?" "more than I can handle" the exams will come soon and the professors have no mercy with the students "they keep dropping mountains and mountains of knowledge in our heads" "you should rest a little" "yeah" "for your luck you have the best friend in the world" "what you have in mind?" "The question is 'what I have in my pocket?'" Luke took off his black, skinny jeans pocket a key. A key. she knew that key "Fucking Lord, what happened to your grandma?" "She is in Italy and the house is in my care" "lucky bastard" "I think we should spend the weekend there. What do you think?" "God, yes!" "What Thelma and Louise are talking about?" "grandma's Malibu house" "I'm in" "me too" "I don't remember to invite you two" "we clearly don't care" he chuckled "what about you, Cal?" "Yeah, it will be nice" he answered uninterested "wow, Calum how you are zippy today" "fuck yourself" Ashton laughed "you are too down today, eat something will make your mood get better" "'m not hungry" "what?! I practically had to beg for the McDonald's guy for a no-pickles burger" "sorry…" "what happened to you?" "Pms" they laughed "I swear to God I'll punch your face Ashton!" she twisted her body turned to his side to give him all her attention he grinned with her act and squeezed her waist "nothing to you worry about" "are you sure?" "yes" he whispered and kissed her quickly on the lips before get up and walk towards the bathroom. Michael groaned in pleasure when he finished his burger "I was starving! Thank you. Luke, hug her for me, I am too far" "it was nothing" Luke wrapped his long arms around her, she snuggled and hummed with the comfort "do you want us to pay you back?" "oh, don't need to, like to take care of you guys" "I have the best friend in the world" "me?" Calum asked when came back to his living room, already feeling jealous. He knew that she was Luke's friend for more time than he and that was Luke who introduced them, but he couldn't help himself "she" "really? I think 'm way better than her" Calum teased her and received in response a socked

foot on his stomach "you will not hurt anyone with these smurf feet" "oh, fuck you!" he grinned and started making circles on her heel trying to forget how much he loves her small feet while she smiled to he "seriously, Cal if you two don't run away to Vegas and get eloped, I will put you guys on my trunk and force you to do it" she giggled, but he rolled his eyes, dropped her foot on the couch and made his way to the bedroom "I think he is mad with you, Ash" "his lost" he shrugged "Alright beautiful people if we gonna leave for the weekend is better we go pack our shits" "yeah, is better" "where we'll meet?" "her place" "why mine?" "Your car is bigger and comfier. And the only one that the engine turns on at the first attempt" "fine, but you drive" "don't need to ask twice" "okay, see you two later" "at 8" "At 8 will be" "later" "later". Michael slammed the door behind him. "what's wrong with Calum?" she asked "bad mood, I guess. Want me to talk with him?" "no, babe, go pack your stuff and I talk with him" "ok" he untied she, giving a kiss on her forehead "see you later, sweetheart" "see u" Luke stood up and yelled to Calum hears him from the bedroom "I'M LEAVING CAL!" "YOU'RE LEAVING LATE IN MY OPINION!" "OH FUCK YOU!" "TRUST ME, I WILL!" Luke laughed and closed the door behind him. She made her way to Calum's bedroom where she already spent a lot of time in and leaned her shoulder on the doorway "hello" "hi" he was splayed at his bed like a starfish "can I join you?" "sure" he shrank himself to the side so she could jump in his bed like a child going to sleep on their parent's bed, what made he smile and giggle "hello again" "hi again" "are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" "no" "uh, alright" they kept the silence for some seconds while she tried to tangle herself on his arms, but he smiled amused and did not help her "asshole" he laughed "oh, come here your fucking kid" he pulled her that was laid next to him, to lay on his chest and a loud groan left his lips before he answers her "you and Luke" he mumbled "what?" "You asked what was wrong: you and Luke" "are you jealous?" "yes" "he is my best friend. He is your best friend" "I know" "I had been sleeping with you" "know that too" and he knew it well "so what is this about?" he flipped his body to be over her and look inside her eyes "you are amazing, he is amazing and you too know each other so well, are so close. And I'm... just me" "it should be a compliment, right?" "I am talking serious" "me too, but, hey you're lucky that I'm more into jerkasses" she teased what made him smile squeezing his eyes, but he opened it again and he felt her hands cupping his face and she staring at his lips, so he pushed down and kissed her deeply, passionated. Soon her hands were sliding down his whole body stopping on the button of his black, ripped jeans ready to take off of him, but Calum stopped the kiss, swallowed, and laid down at her side again what made her feels confused "uh, you... you should go pack your stuff" "what? pack my stuff?" something was wrong, he never refused sex before 'will he break up with me?' she thought "ok" she put herself up and walked towards the door "hey!" "hum?" "need me to drive you home?" "no, like to walk" "oh, okay" "want to come with me?" he wanted to say 'yes' really, wanted to have sex with her (good and sweaty) let her fall sleep on his arms and wake up late to the trip, forget to put clean underwear on the bag and hear the boys make jokes about the reason that they were late, but... "I will take a shower, you know?" "I have a shower in my place" she raised an eyebrow teasing him again, one last try, but he just kept in silence, she nodded "see you later, Cal" and left his apartment ...he couldn't fall in love with her.

*

They met at her place two hours early than they had agreed, she was taking a shower when heard Michael yelling into her living room. "Don't you regret of gave a key to Luke?" "No, like when he is around. Less when I am studying, you know how noisy he can be." now she was on her couch talking with Ashton while the other three was in the kitchen pretending they were barmen "you have a very nice place" "thanks, my grandparents left to me" "I'm sorry" "Oh, it's okay they are alive. They moved to Indiana" "oh, that's nice" "it is" "who wants margaritas???" Luke walked to the living room caring two glasses of margaritas "thank you, Luke" "cheers!" he drank with his best mate when she gasped "you should not drink you'll drive!" "I can drive" "at least someone is behaving. I will love to punish those who don't obey me" she said naughty and Luke laughed loudly he loved when she made sexual jokes "Ash is embarrassed" Michael appeared in the living room yelling (already drunk) with Calum "who is embarrassed?" "Ash. Look he is blushing!" they all laughed "sorry, Ash" "it's fine... Excuse me" Ash made his way to the kitchen and Calum sat next to her where Ashton was before "hey Calum" "what's up Mike?" "You and her will have to control, you know?" "what you're talking about?" "The noise. Not allowed to be loud" Calum laughed "how many margaritas you drank already?" "The margaritas..." He paused and burped 'gross' he continued "the problem is not the margaritas, but the shots" "well, I think that it will not be a problem, Mike" "you are quite loud, babe" she raised an eyebrow and looked to Calum "well, no sex no noise, and you already have made it very clear to me" she stood up and walked to the kitchen to fill her glass and Luke followed her "wow! Calum Hood, what you did wrong?" Ashton dropped at his side very interested in the chaos "I refused fuck with her earlier" "what?! Why, dude?" Ashton and Michael laughed "have my reasons..." he mumbled and blushed a little "ok, they must be good 'cause, bro she is a hottie one and hotties do not are used to be rejected. So she will, naturally, get mad with you" 'he didn't know about her past' Calum thought "Ash... Just be quiet" "alright. Hey Michael did you watched the video I sent you?" Ashton moved the subject leaving Calum only with his thoughts.

*

"What happened, honey?" "He is acting weird" "yeah..." "He didn't want to have sex, didn't want to walk home with me, didn't let me tease him" "don't have a clue why he is doing this" "he was being paranoiac..." "About what?" "About us" she whispered "hum?" "About us" "about us? But don't exist an 'us'" "I know" "Jesus, man... what are you gonna do?" "Get wasted" Luke chuckled "you always have the best ideas" then filled his glass.

*

Was a little after 8 pm when they left: Ashton driving, Calum at his side and the trio in the back: Michael sleeping at the right, Luke in the middle, and she in the left with her head dropped on Luke's shoulder his arm around her while they count how many trucks they see in the road "how many you already saw?" "Eighteen, I guess" "damn it! I'm losing" "what you guys are doing?" Ashton asked interested in what the friends were doing "We are counting lorries" Calum widened his eyes and look at her "lorries?" "Yes" "wtf are lorries?" "Trucks" "are you British now?" "No, but my last boyfriend was" 'oh, yes. He is British' "I miss him. Do you still hang?" Luke used to hang out with them when he broke up with his girlfriend "Yes, I had lunch with him last week" "send hello when you see him again" "okay" "do you still talk with him" "yes, Ash, we are still friends" "you two truly love each other. I mean after all of that you keep supporting him. It's love" Luke always says too much when he is drunk "I think so" but she was pretty wasted too "why did you break up?" "He discovered he is more into boys, you know..." Ashton looked to Calum already regretting what he said about her earlier "I'm sorry" "yeah, it's alright. He is happy that's what matters" "it's very nice of you..." "Well, he would do the same for me" she said with sadness in her voice and Ashton cleaned his throat "Can I sleep, Luke?" "Yes, sure. Come here" he pulled her to be more comfortable on his chest and she fell asleep, soon he did it too. "I think is only us, bro" "yeah, uh, Cal" "hum?" "Honestly, why are you sat here? Why are you not where Luke is? With her laying in your chest, hands playing in her thighs, teasing each other, kissing?" he licked his lips and swallowed dryly, looked back to certify they were sleeping "I'm afraid" "afraid? Is she spanking you?" Calum blushed "she spanks you?" Ashton laughed "it happened once or twice. Sometimes she is bossy in bed. But anyway is not about it" "So why the hell are you refusing sex?" "I am afraid of fall in love with her" "you? falling in love?" "I am falling for her and faster. But I can't" "wow. Why not? You guys are great together" "she isn't mine. And I'm afraid to ask her to be" "you can't live with fear, bro" "yeah…" "honestly, she is awesome and if you don't risk yourself, someone will and you will lose her" "I know" "just keep it in your mind" "I will. Thanks, Ash" "no problems, mate. I should have a talk show" "hell yeah, you totally should" they kept talking about the imaginary Ashton's talk show for the rest of the trip.

*

Was at least midnight when she put on a bikini and jumped on the swimming pool, the boys were making some midnight barbecue, now all drunk, listening to some classic rock, and getting high again. "Beautiful..." "hey" "can we talk?" "Yes! hum, actually I was thinking about the same thing" she was soberer now "good" he dived into the pool and stand next to her "I am sorry about what I said earlier. Sex isn't everything and you're not obligated to do if you're not in the mood. It's just so great that I can't help myself…" she started and he looked into her eyes calmly, taking her hands in his own, she was despaired for an answer and let he knew with her gaze, but he just stepped closer guiding her hands and arms to involve his body, resting his chin on the top of her head and whispered "I want you to be mine" "I will love to be yours" she whispered back and he grinned "sex it's actually really great, isn't it?" "more than it usually is" "so, are you saying that I'm pretty good in bed?" she laughed "you satisfy me, more than the other boys I had slept with" "is it includes Luke?" she smiled "well, I don't remember a lot, but I think so" he grinned at her. Luke and she had already banged a few years ago at some random party, both wasted. Calum knew that and didn't care 'old shit' he thought.

"HEY, LUKE!" "WHAAAATTT?" "SHE SAID SEX WITH ME IS BETTER THAN WITH YOU!" she blushed "Calum!" "damn it!" Luke mumbled more to himself "HEY, CAL!" "HUM?" "SUCK ME!" "I WISH TO, BUT I WILL BE BUSY DOING SOMETHING THAT YOU DIDN'T WHEN HAD THE CHANCE!" Luke laughed out loud and showed to Calum a middle finger. He actually made his bestie come over and over, at the point she thought he had a magic wand instead of a penis, but Calum didn't need to know. Luke winked at her before put his focus on the grill again, she nodded in thanks "did you guys stopped to talk about my orgasms?" "yes, babe" he pulled her legs to his waist and cupped her bum and kissed her, a calm and delicious kiss "want to go to the bedroom and let me put in practice what we were talking about?" "Do you really want to?" "More than you can imagine" "'re you sure?" he whispered at her ear "my handjobs are not like yours" he teased what made her get off his arms and went out of the pool. She pulled his wrist indicating to him to made his way out of the pool to follow her "good night boys" "good night!" Calum smiled at them that was making obscene gestures "yes, we are going to bang and you are not!" she laughed what made the boys stop and focus on another thing. Already in the bedroom Calum was laying in the bed where she said to he waits, she came out of the bathroom and she climbed the mattress to stay at his top "hey, gorgeous" "Cal, if you have to hand job yourself earlier, why you suggested me to leave?" "I was avoiding sex" "why?" "I was avoiding have great moments with you." "Because...?" "I was afraid of fall for you. Don't know about your feelings for me and I am afraid to discover" "I like you a lot" "do you?" "I really do. Wished that you asked me to be yours before" he smiled "I wanted too" "fear makes us do things that we don't want to" "yes" "hope you're not afraid of making me cum" she teased and he squeezed her hips, she kissed he and untied her bikini top "I lie. Don't like you a lots" he widened his eyes "I love you" "love me?" "Yeah. Love everything on you." "It doesn't mean that you love me" "it does" she kissed his neck, his jaw, his lips that tasted like beer "love everything single piece of you. If you puzzle it all together it's you" he smiled "how can you love me?" "ask myself the same every day" he giggled and kissed her again, this time teasing.

She untied the bikini bottom letting him feels how wet she was "fuck" "yes, fuck" they kissed again and again, hot and despaired for each other, he stopped the kiss and she looked at him confused "I'm waiting for an answer" she rolled her eyes but answered he the same way "love you because it's you" he smiled and for the first time let himself fall for her "love you too" he mumbled and she continued the kiss before he took off his swimming short and gave to her want she wanted, what they wanted, 'cause now was not she, was not he, but they.

#calum hood #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum blurb #so... i wrote this #hope you like #5sos imagine #calum hood blurbs

[forabeatofadrum]

l'amor che move (il sole e l'altre stelle) - chapter 2

Notes: I’ve visited Salò so many times in my life and yet while writing this, it’s hard to remember anything. Waaaah!

AO3

--

SIMON

I don’t believe in magic, but magical is the only way I can properly describe this day. I drive back home with a smile on my face and with Baz’s phone number in my phone.

Baz lives in the city centre, but my mum and I live farther away, outside Salò, more up in the mountains. I do want to move to the centre one day, since I’m already down there most of the time, but my mum loves that we live a bit more anonymously. It also allows us to have a huge garden. The drive is short enough and my mum allows me to take the car. I pay for petrol myself, so it’s all working out. Sometimes, I even walk to the centre.

I drive easily, although I had to swerve for a tourist who was speeding in the sharp bend. I recognise the country’s licence plate and I laugh. Those people aren’t used to driving up and down a mountain. I’m focusing on the road, but it’s hard when the thought of Baz distracts me.

Baz is…

Baz is something.

I felt such a connection and I can’t fully explain what is happening to me. I’m not good with people. I don’t really have friends, just classmates who I like and sometimes hang out with. My mum’s always been shying me away from others and I never questioned it. I was fine being on my own, creating my own adventures during recess.

But then I saw Baz. I swear I felt something coursing through my body when we shook hands. He listened to me for ages and then he even asked to have lunch with me and I let him. I didn’t feel like looking for an excuse like usual.

And now I have his number.

I arrive at my house and I must have a big smile on my face, since my mum raises an eyebrow. She’s sitting outside. She’s probably cleaned the chicken coop since she didn’t have to go to work today. (My mum teaches English, it’s summer so the schools are closed.)

“What’s got you into a great mood?”

“Nothing, mum.”

My mum shoots me a knowing look. It’s too obvious that something’s up with me.

“Kettle’s on. Let’s have a cuppa and talk about your great day,” she says. You might think it’s ridiculous to drink tea when it’s 37 degrees outside (I know!), but my mum’s English roots are too strong.

A few minutes later, I’m sat next to my mum and I’m munching on some cantuccini. I know it’s not proper to talk with my mouth full, but I tell her all about Baz. She listens attentively.

“Ma, I swear, it was magical!”

“Hmmm,” she hmmms. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. My mum’s never cared about magic or fantasy. She thinks that series like the Harry Potter or Percy Jackson books are ridiculous. Her distaste is so big, you’d almost think that magic is real.

“It was!” I persist, “It was like there was some kind of energy pulling me towards him! It’s- I needed to talk to him, so I did.”

My mum’s face has changed now. There’s a softness in her eyes. She lifts my chin and she wipes some crumbs away.

“Simon, dear, that’s not magic. That’s a crush.”

I choke on my cantuccini (I really shouldn’t eat during a conversation) and my mum rubs my back when I cough loudly.

A crush?

I have a crush?

No that can’t be it. I’ve had crushes before and it never felt like this. Rebecca from primary school made me incredibly nervous to a point where my mum considered keeping me home. André from middle school made me realise that boys can be pretty too. I even tried dating Elena in high school, but I was a shit boyfriend and she broke up with me after a month.

Baz is different.

“Oh, this is wonderful!” my mum says happily, “You can have a summer romance!”

“Mum!”

--

BAZ

My vampirism does not like Italy for many reasons, but there’s one thing that happens everywhere: I need to be invited in.

Luckily, some places have welcome mats. A simple ‘open’ sign won’t do, but a welcome mat does. So far, it’s worked out. Most storefronts have large windows and when people see me loitering, they invite me in.

But the cashier of this bookstore can’t see me from the cash register. I’m pretty certain that’s the case, since I cannot see the cash register either. I just wanted to buy a book about the language, but now I’m stood outside, looking like an idiot. People pass me without a second glance, but it still feels humiliating that my DNA won’t let me in. I can hardly ask anyone to walk with me, especially since I can’t speak Italian.

There’s only one person in this country who I can call, and he doesn’t even know that I am a vampire. Why would he? I’ve lived amongst mages for my entire life and no one knows. (Is Simon a mage? It’s still a mystery.)

Well, I have no other choice.

I dial Simon’s number.

“Hello! Baz?” he sounds cheerful.

“Hey, Simon, are you in the city centre?”

“Almost there. I’m walking towards the parking lot that I normally use. I have to be in Salò for work anyway.”

“I’m stood outside the bookstore, Giunti. I need some advice on language books.”

“The corner bookstore, right?”

It’s indeed at a corner. I am a bit surprised that he doesn’t automatically recognise where I am when I say its name, but maybe Simon passes all storefronts without on auto pilot, without looking at all the names. We say our goodbyes and I wait for Simon. I’m once again wearing my big hat.

Simon laughs when he arrives.

“How will you ever fit in with a hat like that?” he says.

“Pardon me! I look amazing in this hat.”

“Chiedo scusa,” Simon says, matching my tone. I raise an eyebrow. “That’s how you say ‘pardon me’ in that context in Italian. Here, you’ve had your first lesson. I have the feeling that you’re going to have to use that phrase a lot.”

I’m tempted to say ‘pardon me’ again, which proves his point. He grins knowingly.

Then, thanks Merlin, he motions towards the entrance of the bookstore. He signals me inside and I almost let out a sigh of relief.

“You don’t need to spend a shit ton of money on books when you have me. I’ll be around to help you if you let me,” Simon says and then he greets the cashier.

“That’s a weird way of asking me out,” I joke.

Simon stops in his tracks. I barge into him and the two of us almost fall down the couple of steps near the entrance. The cashier screams something at us in Italian and Simon hastily talks back.

Then, he turns to me. “Are you- are you interested?”

I didn’t expect to date in Italy. That was not the reason I came here. I decided to fuck off because the political climate in the World of Mages was too hostile, not so that I could scoop up the first hot guy that shows interest in me.

But when I look at Simon and the weird mix of hopeful and nervous on his face, I say that I do.

I really do.

Yesterday was amazing and I didn’t want him to leave my side. Today, I was stuck in a rut and my first instinct was to call him.

I didn’t plan it, but I don’t mind.

“Is this a date, then?” Simon asks and he looks around. There are a lot of books. “Not really the ideal location for a first date, eh?”

“You’re the tour guide.”

“Are you challenging me?”

I wasn’t, but now that he’s presented this suggestion, I’m going to take it.

“I have high expectations of our first date.”

Simon laughs. It sounds nice. “I’m pretty sure that this isn’t the way to ask a guy out for a date, but I’ll take it.”

I’m happy that my vampirism makes it difficult for me to blush, because otherwise I’d be beet red. What is this? I’m usually not the person who’s easily swept of their feet, but Simon is different. I don’t comment on it and instead I focus on what books to buy. Simon helps me out before he has to leave for work.

He leaves with a wink and with a promise about the first date.

--

SIMON

Some might say that it’s lame to ask your mum for advice for a first date, but I don’t care. The bond that I have with my mum is special. I know it sounds cliché, but my mum and I were always there for each other.

My mum knows me like no other person.

“I just don’t know what came to me,” I say during dinner. (Pasta, of course, because we’re Italian after all!)

“Simon, just let it all happen. It looks like you found someone you like and who likes you back.”

“But ma, it was kind of embarrassing. ‘Are you interested?’ Did I really ask that?”

“Maybe you came across as confident,” my mum suggests as she cuts her spaghetti. (It makes me want to die.) (The pasta thing, not the confidence.) (Okay, I am Italian. My mum will always be more English.)

I laugh. “I was a stammering idiot!”

But my mum just has a fond smile on her face. She’s incredibly happy about this. It’s not that I had a lonely childhood growing up. I had lots of kids to play with, but I never fully had a friend. I don’t know why. The other kids just thought I was weird. Anyway, that’s why my mum’s my best friend.

My mum was the one who encouraged it, to be honest. She made sure that I wasn’t always around. I wasn’t a recluse, but my mum preferred it when I stayed at home. She thinks it’s ridiculous to have a huge group of people when you can have one person that you’re really close with.

God, my mum must be really happy to hear that I am capable of having that. I think she blames herself for it. It’s kind of a weird situation: my mum kept me aside so that I can have deeper bonds with people, but because of that, I didn’t bond with anyone, which is not what she wanted.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it? That’s the important part. This Ban was impressed.”

“Baz,” I correct. I let out a groan and at moments like this I’m glad we live more secluded. If I were like Baz, living in the centre, everyone would hear me.

(Another reason I never had friends. I was perceived as loud and aggressive, because during recess I preferred to spar and use sticks as swords.)

“I- God, mum, why did I do this?”

“What’s wrong, love?”

I take my time to choose my words. I’ve never been a great speaker and my mum thinks it’s because I was overwhelmed by English and Italian. I don’t believe that, since bilingual kids exist everywhere. Maybe I am just a bit stupid.

“I don’t get why I… why I am so entranced by him,” I say. Entranced. What a shit word. It makes it sound like Baz has cast a spell on me with magic. I mean, I still like to think that meeting Baz was ‘magical’, but mum won’t like that.

She doesn’t seem to get the magic connection here. “Because you like him. Maybe it’s love at first sight?”

“But I don’t even know him!” I say. It’s true. All I know is that he looks beautiful in a ridiculously big sunhat and that I can’t stop thinking about him. I want to be around him all the time. I want to hear everything he has to say.

Yeah, that’s probably a crush, but what if I am wrong?

“And now he expects me to plan a date? A perfect date? What does he like? I am going to fail, mum.”

“Love, the whole perfect date thing is probably a figure of speech. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But I want it to be perfect for him,” I say and I start to blush. Again, maybe others would think this is embarrassing to share with my mum, but I don’t mind.

My mum looks thoughtful. “You said that he’s new in the area, right? Maybe try to find a place of interest and take him there. You’re the tour guide.”

I know this area like the back of my hand.

And that’s when I have an idea.

--

BAZ

Daphne calls every day.

She’s the opposite of the evil stepmother. I never believed in the evil stepmother bullshit, but the fact that Daphne is the only family member who seems to care about me is sad. My father’s barely said a word to me since he found me unbuttoning Niall’s shirt last summer, confirming that I am very homosexual, and my aunt Fiona’s still sulking about the fact that I left England instead of fighting The Mage’s politics.

Doesn’t she know that there’s more to the world than the World of Mages? The only one who understands is Agatha Wellbelove, for Merlin’s sake. That’s probably why we’re best friends. Luckily, Daphne is also the only family member, aside from the kids, who doesn’t care about politics.

The conversations with my stepmother aren’t ground breaking. I talk about the weather, the food and the language, and she talks about Mordelia’s antics.

But when I’m sitting on a terrace, looking at the lake, she says something that catches me off guard.

“Do you have a friend yet?”

To most other people, this would be a normal question. I have moved to another country on my own, so I am in the need of friends, but that’s not the kind of friend that Daphne’s referring to. When my father threw Niall out of the house while screaming at me about the Pitch family line dying out, Daphne was standing there.

No one ever talks about what happened that day, which is another reason I needed to get the fuck out of there, but ever since that moment, Daphne’s been referring to Niall as ‘my friend’ until the moment it became clear that Niall found a new ‘friend’ in Dev.

In other words, she’s asking if I am up to some homosexual activity in Salò.

I down my glass of wine.

“Basil, did you hear me?” she sounds nervous. It’s still somewhat taboo to talk about it, but this is her trying. I want to make clear that I know that, so I wonder if I should tell her about Simon, who isn’t my friend, but who might be one day. I hope so.

But maybe I should cross that threshold when we get there.

“No,” I say, “No friend.”

“You know I just want you to be happy,” Daphne says.

I sigh. “I know, mum.”

And with that, the conversation goes back to Mordelia’s antics. Apparently, she’s stolen our father’s wand and she set the kitchen on fire. I’m proud of her.

#snowbaz #carry on #simon snow series #l'amor che move (il sole e l'altre stelle) #multichaptered #2021 #holy fuck I wrote #story: paradiso

[june-girl-86]

Chapter 27

Chapter 27 overview:

They have reached Bora-Borosa now. But unfortunately Umm's son is not in town. Until he comes back, Din and Liara have a few nice hours together and explore the city.

Smut

Songtext: LeAnn Rimes - I Need You

Notes:

Unfortunately, a few migraine attacks stopped me in my tracks. Now I finally finished the chapter and it became quite long... In a few days it goes on vacation to Lake Garda (Italy) and I think that it can be written there well relaxed.

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC Female!

ReaderRating: Mature/Explicit (+18)

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence / Love / Action&Adventure / Blood&Violence / Drama & Romance / Slow Burn / Fluff&Smut

Bora-Borosa.

The silver lining floated in space in front of the desert planet with its three suns. But since the celestial bodies were not very large, the three together had the power of only one sun. Thus it lived on the planet very well and the vegetation had used its chance. The first settlers of the planet had built their villages, which later became big cities, around the many fertile oases. The capital of the planet was Amos and richly populated. Then there was only desert far and wide around it, before it became slightly mountainous and then the city of Raija appeared. There and in Amos some Chalactans lived, had their temples, where one could meditate with them for hours. Many a newly arrived person had already gotten lost in Amos. Winding little streets, houses decorated with flowers and colorful bricks or walls, partly connected by stairs with the many stores, one stood sometimes suddenly in a cellar and had lost his sense of direction. But who had actually made it through the streets, stood at some point on a large marketplace which was populated by many more merchants who wanted to sell their delicacies and crafts. From there, one reached the old gardens in the courtyards of the houses, which had been laid out by those who had long since left the planet. In the park, besides the palm trees, there were many old olive and argan trees, under which visitors could rest in the shade and in the branches sometimes dozed a loth cat. Liara had already explored all this.

She stood in the cockpit next to Din, who was steering the silver lining intently, and remembered her first visit here, when her father had taken her to bring the Eopies to the Tusken tribe. She had been a child then, and yet it seemed like only yesterday as she looked at the planet. Din had never been here before and perhaps she could show him something of the city, her favorite places. But first they had to find Umm's son. She sat down and strapped herself in as the ship entered the atmosphere and began to jerk. But Din had everything under control, and after a few minutes he was assigned a spot in the spaceport and the silver lining landed on the platform without a hitch.

As Din lowered the ramp, there was a roar, a ship taking off loudly, almost drowning out the announcements of a shuttle's next flight times.

Bora-Borosa had a special charm than other desert planets like Tatooine, which did not have a good reputation simply because of its crime. That's why Bora-Borosa attracted more tourists. Some of them already left the planet and followed a droid that brought them to their shuttle. But when they discovered the group, they stopped with open mouths, Sand People in the company of a Mandalorian, was certainly the experience, which they could now tell at home.

Liara also liked the city so much, because despite the modern world, here was still a rather traditional way of life. After Din instructed an employee of the space port to refuel the silver lining, they left the port. Basmah turned to Liara and nodded at her. She gestured toward an enclosure where she saw several banthas standing.

"The owner is a friend. He will help us!"

The two women hugged and said their fond farewells. Meanwhile, Umm Din touched his arm and he eyed the old woman. She seemed more relaxed than she had two days ago on Tatooine.

"Take care of yourself Mandalorian. And no matter what others say, you will be a good ruler of Mandalore!" Surprised, Din looked at her from under his helmet. Umm smiled knowingly, then turned away and held onto Myrrh. Liara sighed as she looked after the group until they were only small dots in the distance. Din put his hand on her shoulder and she nodded.

"Let's go find the tanner's quarter, then!"

While in the area of the spaceport speeder whizzed along, droids took the work from the people, it was like another world when one left this. On the forecourt of the city, city guides were loudly trying to reach their future customers. The clatter of hooves on the cobblestones of orbaks pulling small carriages with tourists behind them or loaded with goods, were among all the sounds, among the most typical. They reached the large magnificent white entrance gate, which was decorated with shiny red and green mosaics.

"The red represents the sun and the green represents the oasis that gave life to the city!" explained Liara, and Din would later also note how colorful the locals kept their city. Beyond the gate was a plaza from which several paths forked. Liara took Din by the hand and led him into one of the alleys. There was a big crowd there and again and again they had to dodge people standing in front of the stores looking at the items. The various smells in the air penetrated even through the filter of Din's helmet. They passed lacy pyramids of spices that moved slightly with each breath of air, dispersing their aromas, and colorful displays of tailors, yarn merchants, and wool dyers. A speeder bike rattled along in front of them, and Din eyed the vehicle suspiciously. The owner had loaded it full with carpets and the bike groaned under the load. At the next turn, Din spotted a sign from the tannery that told them they were headed in the right direction. However, they had to wait as there was a traffic jam in the narrow road. One cart had a broken wheel and the owner was in the process of loading the last of the sacks onto another that had been procured in the meantime and hitched to the orbak.

Then they finally moved on and after a while they turned into a wider alley, drumming sounds could be heard.

"You can smell it already!" commented Liara, holding her hand in front of her nose. Din noticed it, too. And then they came to an open gate that led them into a large courtyard that was not covered, like part of the alleys. Countless pits with different liquids opened up in front of them, it almost seemed like a paint box. The harsh smell made Liara cough in disgust.

"There's definitely banthaurine in there!" she muttered as they watched a worker standing barefoot in the lye, kneading the large piece of leather in it. A few of these pieces were hanging to dry on the wall of a house, and a loth cat was clawing at one and stretching with relish. She didn't seem to mind the smell. In front of her, an old man sat on the ground, oblivious to it and making the drumming noises. He set the tone for the men, who danced around to the rhythm of the drum in the large pools of dye, softening the leather in them.

"Can I help you?"

A young man had discovered the two, he handed Liara a branch, which she gratefully accepted and held under her nose. It was mint, which softened the smell.

"We're looking for Nhean, Umm's son. He used to be ..."

"With the Sand People!" the boy added, smiling. At that, she could see the gap in his teeth, making him look mischievous.

"You just missed him. He's getting a supply of skins in Raija. Come tomorrow at the same time and he'll be back!"

Liara heard Din sigh beside her, and she shook her head with a grin. They thanked him for the information and left the place again. At the fork to one of the main paths, they stopped and Liara looked at Din. She could tell by his attitude that he was not happy with the situation.

"I'm afraid we're going to need a lot of patience on this one!"

Din agreed with her.

"I have no problem waiting and staying put for hours, but we are so close now and again an obstacle is somehow put in our way!"

He sighed again. Liara smiled at him encouragingly.

"I'll distract you. You'll see, time flies here. Take off your helmet, you'll miss so many little things and all the colors. Now I'll show you the marketplace and the park. And tonight we're going out to eat. There's a place, it's pretty hidden, we'll be spared from the tourists!"

Din felt her anticipation so he couldn't say no. He also took her suggestion to heart and pulled his helmet off his head. And indeed, it was already other impressions than just staring through a display.

Liara handed him her white shoulder bag, he took it from her, put his helmet into it and hung the bag around himself. A moment after that, he had a strange familiar feeling as the weight of his helmet pressed against his hip and he squinted his eyes in memory. Liara noticed his reaction.

"What's wrong?"

Din shook his head.

"Briefly, I thought of Grogu ..."

Liara took his hand and squeezed it.

"He will be in your memories forever, and each one is precious. You will surely see him again someday!"

Din returned her handshake, then they let a few more people pass before squeezing into a gap and drifting along.

Sometimes it went slightly uphill, then around a bend and again in zigzags. Din admired the finely decorated buildings, pictures with small colorful stones on the walls, which usually spread over several houses. Then there were whole streets of different colors, blue, green, orange. Above their heads were plants attached to ropes, spreading in all directions, blooming beautifully and providing shade. And then the alley spat them out and they stood in an equally busy square. Here, fruit and vegetable vendors had spread out, their wares protected from the sun under tarps. Another had chickens in cages, clucking and fluttering excitedly inside, for sale or even slaughtered on the spot.

Liara led Din past it, a temple standing directly in front of them. It was open on all sides and you could see the Chalactans sitting in it, immersed in their thoughts. And behind it was the park. The argan trees were overflowing with their yellow fruit and many a visitor would steal one. The white blossoms were everywhere on the olive trees. In the shade of the trees many had made themselves comfortable on blankets, ate and drank, or simply rested. A large fountain enticed children to run around in it and enjoy it when a jet of water came shooting out. There were several streams where children also threw leaves and branches in and followed them to fish them out again. Parrots sat on some palm trees preening their feathers. They stopped under a palm tree, Din took off his cloak and laid it on the grass. He sat down next to it, leaning against the trunk of the palm tree, leaving the cloth to Liara. She smiled lovingly at him and made herself comfortable on his cloak. She rested her head on his thigh, sunbeams shining through the palm leaves that moved in the light wind, tickling her nose.

Din stroked her shoulder, lost in thought, and felt really relaxed. He didn't know himself like this at all, always tense and alert to observe the area. But the peaceful mood gripped him, he closed his eyes for a moment and took in the surroundings even more intensely. He heard Liara's quiet breathing, the rustling of leaves, and the chatter and laughter of visitors. Music was playing somewhere and a smell of herbs wafted into his nose from the market. Hearing a hiss, he opened his eyes and discovered a loth cat sitting in one of the olive trees. Another was sitting below an argan tree and had invaded the others' territory, playing with a fallen fruit. The cat from the tree hissed again and set to pounce. The one on the ground grabbed the fruit and disappeared, leaving the hissing cat to calm down and relax back on its branch.

Liara reached for his hand, tugging at the leather of his glove, and he looked down at her.

"In a few hours you wouldn't recognize the marketplace. In the evening, this becomes a huge restaurant. There's cooking and sizzling, games and music. There are the delicious smells drifting over the square next to the smoke from the grills!"

Then she pointed to a covered platform that could be seen at the end of the park.

"Once a month for a few days there are concerts or theater performances. Then the park is so crowded you can hardly turn around. And then there's a chance you'll get lost and your father will be on the verge of a nervous breakdown!" she chortled. Din looked at her questioningly.

"I was maybe 12 years old, it was not my first visit here. Dad often took me with him, mother stayed behind on the farm and was always worried that something might happen. Yes, when we were here, it was busy and my father got nervous. He had simply forgotten and it would have been impossible to get through the crowd with the Eopies. So he left again, with the animals. I, however, had stood on one of the benches and listened to the lecture. At some point I noticed that there was no dad and no animal left. Alone through the alleys back I did not dare. But then I discovered Basmah. She had been with her mother and a few other sand people in the city on the way. The people of Amos have a very different relationship with the Tusken and it is not uncommon to find them here. The group took me into their care and brought me safely back to the spaceport where dad was standing with the Eopies. By the way, he didn't notice that I wasn't there until he got to the ship. He almost died a thousand deaths. We never told Mom that!"

Din giggled, but then noticed her facial expression change. A tear ran down her cheek and she put her hands over her face.

"I miss her so much. I never cared that they weren't my birth parents, I loved them and they taught me so much. And then I always think to myself, I can't complain, had so much time with them and you lost your parents even more sooner!"

Din shook his head, took her hands, leaned down to her and gently kissed her forehead.

"Please allow your grief. It is painful for everyone, whether they spent many moments or few with those. And you just told me earlier that every memory you have is precious. And I thought mine were lost. But ever since Corvus, when I heard my father's voice, they've actually been coming back in bits and pieces!"

He pointed to the red parrot that had landed in the meadow and was nibbling on an argan fruit.

"On Aq Vetina there had also been parrots and in our garden there had been a couple. One of them was so cheeky, he flew right into the house and stole food from the kitchen. I named them, unfortunately I can't remember!"

Liara ran her hands over her eyes, sat up and leaned her head against Din's shoulder.

"Do you think your home is still there? That someone lives there again now?"

Din sighed.

"I don't. But maybe the neti can help us with that question too!"

They remained sitting for a while, until Liara suggested slowly returning to the ship.

"I still have to get the maca root to help your legs. And then I'll show you the best ice cream they have here!"

Hand in hand, they strolled back through the marketplace. The merchants were already starting to clean up their wares so that the cookshops would have room here later. Liara led Din through an underpass and when they came back upstairs, the typical smell of blood greeted him. This he then saw. Half of an animal was lying on a cart, flies buzzing over it. It belonged to a butcher shop a few yards away. Goat feet hung in front of the open window. A man stood in front of it, in ragged clothes, begging the butcher to give him some food.

After passing this somewhat dingy corner, they came back onto one of the main paths. There they actually found a store for remedies. Din waited outside, because inside everything was so crowded from floor to ceiling that one could hardly turn around. The older woman behind her counter was almost out of sight.

"Oh you're lucky, I have it as a salve too. By the time you boil the roots, it takes way too much time and does all kinds of work!" the healer was pleased and pulled out a tube from one of the many drawers.

"You two are going to have a lot of fun!" she winked, and Liara frowned. The old woman put her wrinkled hand on Liara's.

"Well the maca root is stimulating too. Whereas I think your husband is still well in the juice!"

Liara bit her lips a little embarrassed, put the money on the healer's counter and hurriedly took her leave. Din wondered at Liara's red cheeks as she came back out with a small bag.

"Are you all right?" he asked, and Liara nodded.

"Yeah, it was just pretty stuffy in there. Come on I need a tasty cool down now!"

There was a rush outside the ice cream store and they had to wait a few minutes before it was their turn. Liara ordered two scoops of Amos ice cream for each of them and Din was curious to see what it consisted of. The vendor handed them the treat and they walked slowly while they lapped at the ice cream. Din thought it was delicious. The main part was vanilla. Mixed into it was the oil of the argan plant. So it had an intense special nutty flavor.

"Very good!" murmured Din as he licked the ice cream and Liara grinned mischievously at him.

"What's wrong?" he wanted to know.

"Oh you don't see an armed Mandalorian with ice cream marks on his nose every day!" she giggled and leaned over to wipe the spot with the napkin wrapped around the wafer. The next moment she felt something cold on her chin and Din laughed out. He had deliberately smeared his ice cream on her face. "Hey!" she indignantly chortled. Din gently grabbed her wrist, pulled her to him and kissed her on the spot and Liara gasped in surprise before he tenderly touched her on the lips. Liara snuggled up to him, the two of them so engrossed in their kiss, until Liara noticed something liquid running along her fingers. Her ice cream had melted.

Din stood at the kitchen counter and drank a sip of water. After they had returned, he had already given himself the injections and then contacted Cara. But instead of Cara, Karga greeted him and informed him that she had left for Morak with Ezer. If she knew anything new, she would contact him. Karga wished them good luck in their search for the crystal and said goodbye again. Din had decided to put on his new trousers for dinner and also the new cloak. The old one had also got grass stains after today's excursion. And he had also polished his armor a bit. Now he waited for Liara, who was still freshening up. He was looking forward to their dinner together, he had had to do without such a thing all these years. He heard the door to the refresher open and turned around. Din was about to say something, but it took his breath away. Liara was wearing one of the dresses he had noticed on the local women earlier today. It was dark green, covering her shoulders, but had a V-neck that emphasized her cleavage. On the torso it was tight fitting, from the waist it was flowing and went down to her ankles. White embroidery was at the hem of the neckline and along the side of the dress. The white strappy sandals completed her outfit perfectly. Her hair was braided a bit on the sides, otherwise it was loose and fell over her shoulders. Din cleared her throat.

"You're beautiful!"

Liara blushed slightly and complimented him as well. She had noticed that he had made an effort to clean his armor and it now shone like new.

The spaceport was a little quieter now than it had been in the morning, and the shouting of the city leaders had also stopped in the forecourt. The suns were already very low and illuminated the entrance gate. In front of it stood a carriage and Din asked Liara how far they had to go.

"Yes, already at least half an hour!" she said and Din smiled at her. He took them to the carriage and the driver was happy to see his new guests.

"Where may I take you?"

"We want to go to Aimi!" she informed him. The driver nodded and signaled his orbak to go.

"You're in luck, I know a shortcut, it goes through the artists' district!"

A few of the stores Din recognized, at first they drove through alleys they had already been in today. The coachman made his presence known with a bell as they drove, when people wouldn't move aside. Then he turned into a yard, another gate on the opposite side was open and they reached a new street. Din noticed the colorful paving stones, the paintings on the walls. From the open windows could be heard various instruments or just singing. The paintings on the houses became more and more creative. A sleeping loth cat, under it hung a flower box that seemed as if this was her bed. Then she was under a window, her paws hanging from the painted ledge. And the last motif was next to a door, a hand reached out and stroked the cat.

The sunlight gradually disappeared into the alley and the street lights came on. They drove under a carpet of lights that hung over them. Then the carriage slowed and its driver stopped in front of a house entrance whose wooden door was painted mint green. A sign was fastened over the frame, Aimi, they had arrived at the right place. Din gave the driver his money, he got out and helped Liara down from the carriage. Din was curious to see what was waiting for him behind the door and he was surprised. They were in a garden, actually a courtyard, but that was not so obvious at first. Surrounded by several orange trees, whose scent was very intense, seat cushions had been spread out underneath and a few visitors were sitting there relaxing. Another eye-catcher was the ornate wall fountain in which a small bird bathed, as well as the light green and white tiled marble floor with a central mosaic element, on which, a white marble fountain stood and whose water ran gently splashing into a narrow basin. In it Din could see a few goldfish swimming. Soft background music rounded out the area. He looked up and counted three floors. The railings were kept white, had the mint green theme in various places, as did all the doors. The courtyard was open to the top and dusk could be seen. Liara had already walked to the reception desk, which was next to the stairs. A young woman was standing there, smiling at the two of them.

"How can I help you?"

"Do you still have a table for two on the terrace?"

The young woman answered in the affirmative and Din followed Liara up the three flights of stairs. They were treated to a great view when they got to the rooftop terrace. In addition to the restaurant, there was also an area here equipped with hammocks and comfortable seating areas. Din stepped up to the wall with Liara, put an arm around her shoulder and they watched the suns set. The sky was bathed in beautiful pink hues. People had also gathered on the terraces of some outbuildings to enjoy this spectacle. When the last orange celestial body had disappeared and darkness claimed its place, they lit several fireplaces on the terrace. Small candlesticks were set up at the tables. Din skimmed the menu and couldn't decide, there were far too many choices and everything seemed delicious. Liara laughed, she felt the same way on her first visit here.

"Let's order something from the tajine. You won't regret it!"

Din leaned over the table and tenderly ran his hand over her cheek.

"You don't contradict a beautiful woman!"

Liara enjoyed his compliments and touches. While they were waiting for the food, a man and a woman came out onto the terrace. He had a guitar and started playing a pleasant tune. She joined in a few bars later and sang along.

The tajine was very flavorful and delicious. There was chicken meat with carrots, potatoes and peas. But what you could taste the most and made the dish even better was the sweet honey in it. Din hadn't eaten something this good in a long time and was worried that the new pants would be too tight.

After eating, Liara disappeared to go to the bathroom. Meanwhile, Din watched a couple dance who had joined the musicians. He wasn't sure if it was the wine, the romantic setting, or Liara who had somehow charmed him, probably all of the above, but when she returned to their table, he rose jerkily and took her hand in his. He was not one to dance, certainly not in armor. When he was young, he had gone clubbing with the other Mandolorians from time to time, but only to tap his foot at most. But now he wanted it badly, to hold her in his arms and give himself up to the music. Surprised, Liara followed him to the dance floor and he pulled her to him. The singer just started a new song and he listened to the lyrics.

“I don't need a lot of things I can get by with nothing With all the blessings life can bring I've always needed something But I've got all I want When it comes to loving you You're my only reason You're my only truth”

As if by magic, they floated across the dance floor, perfectly in time. Almost telepathically, they seemed to know what the other wanted. It was almost as if they were one being for that moment, one soul in two bodies, to which the music had given weightlessness. Liara leaned her head on his shoulder, enjoying the slowness, and closed her eyes.

“You're the hope that moves me To courage again, oh yeah You're the love that rescues me When the cold winds, rage And it's so amazing 'Cause that's just how you are And I can't turn back now 'Cause you've brought me too far”

So she did not notice how the other guests looked at this couple and realized that the man in the armor, despite his Beskar, was the most vulnerable at this moment, because he openly showed his love for this woman and exposed his soul.

“I need you like water Like breath, like rain I need you like mercy From heaven's gate There's a freedom in your arms That carries me through I need you Oh yes I do”

"I never want to let you go and spend eternity here with you!", Din murmured in her ear and Liara sighed. She also pushed aside all thoughts that went in the direction of the crystal and what problems had arisen since then because of it. The only thing that mattered now was this moment with Din. He gently stroked her back and stayed with his hand on her bottom. She felt warm and licked her lips. Maybe the idea she had earlier hadn't been so wrong after all.

"Let's go!" she whispered, breathing a light kiss on his chin. His beard tickled her slightly, but wasn't bothersome. She broke away from him, pulling him behind her, past her table to grab her bag, and sped up the stairwell. Din let her pull him along until they came to one of the lower floors, to a door, and Liara pulled out a map from her bag.

"We'll be on the ship long enough during our travels. That's why I booked this room earlier!" she explained, opening the door. A pleasant fragrance welcomed her, the bouquet of lavender was in a vase standing on a wooden table. Behind it, in the middle of the room, a large couch took the place. On the wall shelves were several burning candles. On one side there was a bathroom, on the other there was a white curtain gathered on a pillar, which was supposed to delimit the sleeping area. Flower petals were scattered on the floor, leading up to the bed. Liara turned off the electric light, now only the candles illuminated the room.

She looked Din firmly in the eyes, opening her braided hair as she did so, and stepped toward the bed. With her finger she lured Din to her. The latter took notice of the invitation, stopped close to her and looked deeply into her eyes. With his fingertips he touched her neck, ran it down over her collarbone towards her shoulder, slipping under the hem of her dress. A pleasant shiver made her tremble slightly, his touch made her skin tingle, and her breath caught in his gaze. In his now dark brown eyes burned undisguised hunger, which also awakened a wild desire in her. The air between them seemed to crackle and she ran her tongue over her dry lips. Her heart beat up to her throat. She waited for him to continue, but he only stared at her.

"Din!" she whispered. A second later he locked her mouth with his, she opened her lips and let him in. It was a slow, gentle and incredibly sensual kiss that swept them both into a deep vortex of passion. With every fiber of her body, Liara ached for Din, tugging at his armor as they continued to kiss. She longed to be touched by him. Din's kisses grew more urgent, more greedy, and his tongue played a fascinating game with Liara's. His wild caress stole her senses and she was no longer capable of any clear thought. Din briefly detached himself from her, took off his armor, tore his shirt from his body in a frenzy. Instinctively, Liara nestled against his broad bare chest, breathed soft kisses on his skin, and sighed deeply as he ran one hand through her hair and stroked her still-covered back with the other. Liara could feel how aroused Din already was as he pressed her close and moaned in her ear. She desired Din with a desire so fierce that it made her tremble. Liara couldn't suppress a lustful sigh as he ran his lips over her cheeks to her earlobe and on down to her throat. She felt like she was made of nothing but erogenous zones, writhing rapturously in Din's arms. These moments they had together were like getting to know each other all over again every time.

"I want to see you!"

His voice sounded rough, throaty and full of hunger for sex. Gasping, Liara allowed his fingers to slide over her shoulders, slowly pulling the fabric down. Exposing her breasts, Din swallowed and slipped the rest down to her waist. He let out a moan that seemed to come from deep in his throat as he revealed her breasts, the tips of which stretched out towards him and seemed to beg for him to touch them.

"You are simply adorable, Cyar'ika (darling)!"

Din put his hands around her breasts and bent his head, sliding the tip of his tongue over one of the buds, again and again, until Liara moaned with lust and her knees went weak. He caught her, lifted her up and Liara thought for a moment she was lying under an infinite starry sky.

A canopy was fastened over the bed, from the fabric hung countless small silver beads that sparkled in the candlelight. Din he bent over her, kissed her again full of passion and sensuality. Her lips felt swollen from his demanding kisses, so he let go of her and slid down her a bit, only to take one of her nipples in his mouth. Liara cried out lustfully as he began to caress her again with his tongue. Waves of desire flooded her body and she wished that this pleasure would never end.

Din knelt over her, she caressed his chest and wanted more, wanted to feel his bare skin all over. His skin shimmered in the candlelight and she eagerly explored the looming muscles with her fingers. They traveled further down, she stroked the distinct mound under his zipper of his pants and heard Din groan harshly.

"Liara!"

He sucked in the air sharply and it took all his control not to tear the dress off her body immediately. Breathing heavily, he looked down at her, her long hair sprawled across the pillows, the red petals lying around her, and the way her naked breasts rose and fell excitedly.

"You look like a goddess!"

Din was enchanted, Liara had to be a magician, he couldn't explain all the feelings for her. Where had they been all these past years? Had they been dormant inside him, just waiting to be kissed awake by someone? He wanted all of her and pushed her dress over her hips, taking off her panties as well, he could feel the wetness on them and gasped at her arousal.

Her clothes landed on the floor without further attention. He slid his hand between her thighs and gently spread them. Delicately he stroked her most sensitive spot with his thumb and Liara moaned out. She bent towards him lustfully and when his caresses became more and more intense, he guided two fingers into her, she had the feeling of being on fire. Instinctively she pushed herself towards him, already small waves of pleasure ran over her. But she wanted more, wanted him inside her. Driven by a desire she had only since she was with Din, she clung to his shoulders and tried to pull him down to her.

But Din only laughed, rose and took off his pants along with his underwear. A joyful shiver ran over Liara when she saw him in his full glory. Din knelt between her legs, slid his hand under her buttocks and lifted them a little. Then, with a swift movement, he penetrated her and stifled her pleasurable moans with a kiss.

The pleasure Din felt was simply overwhelming, he moved slowly at first, but Liara asked him several times to thrust harder into her. She did not make it easy for him to try to hold out for long. With her eyes half closed, her head pressed into the pillows, she lifted her hips towards him and gave herself completely. He filled her, their bodies merging together, moving in perfect unison toward the magical moment Liara felt approaching. Din sensed it, reached between them and stroked her clit. She clawed into his skin at his shoulders, the waves of pleasure piled up inside her and she let out a piercing cry. An incredible intense climax made her body tremble again and again, and Din could stand it no longer. He thrust into her faster and harder, her walls enclosing him tighter, then he realized the time had come for him. Din grabbed her hips, with a loud moan and face contorted with pleasure he pulled her even tighter.

Exhausted, sweaty, and gasping for breath, the two lay side by side, touching only at the tips of their fingers, trying to calm their wildly beating hearts again. Liara turned to him, kissed him tenderly on the cheek, and rested her head against his shoulder. They watched the flickering on the walls of the candles, the shadows swaying back and forth. When the flames went out, they heard the deep and firm breathing of the two sleeping.

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