#& it would be so INTERESTING to see eddie in a more relaxed private setting with nancy doing something quiet like studying.

[rynliadon]

ok but what if eddie munson and nancy wheeler were best friends. what if eddie had saved nancy from her vecna trance, and they started to hang out more. what if eddie got nancy into heavy metal, and nancy loved its energy and emotion and how powerful it made her feel. what if nancy started experimenting with her style. (nancy in a leather jacket with piercings and jewelry!!) what if nancy was able to get close to someone again, have a good platonic friend again after barb, and learn that she IS a good friend, that barb's death wasn't her fault. (bc I get the sense that she and barb were the kind of friends who were attached at the hip, don't need anyone else type friends, and after her death the guilt and pain of it meant that her only friends were people she didn't know very well & purposely distanced herself from, school friends etc., and steve & jonathan. she deserves platonic friends!!) again I return to metalhead nancy. metalhead nancy wheeler. what if nancy and eddie helped each other through their upside down related trauma. and what if they got to have a deeply personal and close platonic connection. WHAT IF NANCY AND EDDIE WERE BEST FRIENDS.

[itcameuponamidnightqueer]

fake dating 10, any pairing you want

damie + “please just hold my hand, that person’s basically undressing me with their eyes.”

trope prompts

//

It’s not that Jamie doesn’t want to be at this school function, it’s just that—

No, that’s a lie. She definitely doesn’t want to be here, and wouldn’t if she weren’t part of the staff. Wouldn’t be here if Dani hadn’t tricked her, really, because Jamie’s usually pretty good about saying no even at work. 

“Rebecca’s back from traveling,” Dani had tried, and Jamie said no because who knows how long that’ll last. 

“Owen said he’s gonna ask Hannah out,” she’d tried next, and Jamie had actually laughed in her face. 

“Someone is actually going to have to physically force those two together,” she’d replied, and Dani’s eyes lit up, prompting her with a quirk of an eyebrow.

In no world does Jamie want to be that person.

Dani had sighed. “Free booze,” she’d grumbled, desperate. Jamie had rolled her eyes and opened the door to her well-stocked liquor cabinet.

Dani had pursed her lips together and turned her face away, almost quick enough for Jamie to miss the grin she was failing to suppress. 

If Jamie weren’t constantly on the lookout for that smile, she might have succeeded.

Dani had sighed again, raked a hand through her fluffy, perfect hair, and flopped back on the couch.

“Okay, fine,” she huffed. “You win, don’t come, we’ll hang out over the weekend and I’ll just tell you all about how lonely I was at the party—my first party without Eddie, which everyone will probably be asking me about and I’ll have to field awkward questions all night—”

Jamie scoffed. “And you think I’m going to magically make them not be awkward?”

“No,” Dani answered, a little too quickly. “I think you’d glare at them so hard they wouldn’t even ask me in the first place.”

“I think I’ve just been insulted!”

“No,” Dani laughed, “you just have that whole—” She scrunched her eyebrows together and set her shoulders, curled her lip upwards into an unmistakable hint of a sneer. Her voice, when she spoke, was half an octave lower and at least six countries away from Jamie’s accent. “—’Don’t fuck wiv’ me’ vibe going on,” she finished.

Jamie had taken a few long moments to blink away the urge to kiss her. 

“You’ve gotten worse,” she’d finally said. “Almost a year and a half working together and you’ve gotten worse.”

“Come to the party and you can spend the whole time teaching me.”

“Dani.”

“Jamie.”

Her eyes weren’t wide anymore; they’d shrunk back to being shy and vulnerable, the stormy kind of blue that Jamie didn’t ever see unless they were alone. Jamie had spent the better part of a year not acknowledging her feelings for Dani, and she was good at it. Not always good enough to escape Hannah’s shrewd gaze, but enough to where it was a genuine friendship, and she only felt the roar of devotion flare up in the quietest, most private of moments.

Jamie was excellent at controlling her emotions. She’d spent an entire lifetime honing that skill, protecting herself from the surprisingly large amount of people who seemed destined to hurt her. 

Jamie had nothing on Dani Clayton.

Dani could suppress any negative feeling until it almost ceased to exist; she had an incredible way of just...willing things not to happen. It had taken months for her to reveal the cracks in her relationship with Eddie, and even then Jamie sat by and watched, completely blown away, by how quickly and how sincerely Dani put the mask back up around people who only wanted to see silk and porcelain. The crazy thing about it was that Dani meant it; Dani gave all of her attention to everyone who asked for it. She didn’t have an insincere bone in her body.

But, god—Jamie’s life had been shit before, and still nothing made her sadder than watching Dani perform.

If all it took for her not to do that was one party, well, she could table the rest of it for later.

She’d picked up her phone and opened up the group chat they had with Hannah, Owen, and Rebecca.

“Right,” she’d groaned, “guess we’ve gotta coordinate who’s driving because the only way I’m getting through this is if I’m very, very drunk.”

.

And so Jamie finds herself at the not-yet-Christmas, ambiguously-winter end-of-semester party, sticking to Rebecca like a leech while she regales groups of coworkers with the same six stories of her very impulsive, wildly successful trip around the world. Dani, meanwhile, hasn’t been answering any awkward questions, from what Jamie’s heard, and is instead relaxed and popular as she chats with all of their friends.

Jamie almost turned around ten minutes in, once it became clear what the tone of the night would be. But there was no sense in bailing when she was already there and hadn’t driven herself, and—

Who would be there for Dani to look at, every twenty minutes or so, just for reassurance or to check in or whatever kind of comfort she might be seeking. (Jamie doesn’t know for sure what it is. She knows what she hopes it is. But that’s something else for the ‘later’ bag.)

She stays. Jamie stays and drinks and laughs and eventually gets sucked into the party of it all, which is why she’s five minutes into her best story of youthful shenanigans that didn’t end in a visit from the cops, and absolutely doesn’t notice the anxious blonde rushing at her from across the room. 

 “Hold my hand, hold my hand, hold my hand,” Dani urges, arm outstretched as she speeds closer. She hits Jamie’s elbow when she gets close enough and finally manages to wrestle Jamie’s hand into an iron grip.

Jamie, sufficiently interrupted, stops talking and looks down. “What’s going on here, then?”

Dani takes a deep breath and plasters on the worst attempt at a smile Jamie’s ever seen, which is still pretty good by most peoples’ standards. “Remember all those awkward questions I thought I’d get about Eddie?” she says through clenched teeth.

“Yep.”

“Thought they’d be full of pity, not flirting.”

Jamie’s head shoots up, trying to pick out the offenders, but Dani slaps her elbow again.

“Don’t look!” she hisses. “We have to make this convincing.”

“Make what convincing?” Jamie narrows her eyes and takes a long sip of her drink. “You’re pulling me into some kind of scheme, Poppins, and I know I’ve told you what happened the last time somebody did that…”

Dani laughs, high and fluttery and nervous in the back of her throat. “Please just hold my hand,” she implores. “Nathan is basically undressing me with his eyes but I think you can scare him off if he sees us together.”

“Nathan?” Jamie starts to scan the room again, a little less obviously this time. “Nathan Ford, the school’s sluttiest social studies teacher?”

“Mhm.”

“The same Nathan Ford who’s walking over right now?”

“What!” Dani straightens up, rigid and spooked like a deer in the road. “I can’t believe—I was so careful; is he stalking me?”

The anxiety is short-lived and replaced very quickly with anger once Jamie can no longer hold in her laughter. 

“You,” Dani says, prying Jamie’s drink from her other hand, “tricked me.”

“You tricked me first,” Jamie winks.

“I don’t even think he’s in here anymore.”

Jamie shrugs. “Probably not.”

“You made me think I was in so much trouble…”

“You’re always safe with me, Poppins.”

Dani finishes the drink.

.

The funny thing is, neither of them lets go. 

Nathan Ford isn’t the only slutty teacher and it doesn’t take Jamie long to get a glimpse of what Dani’s been dealing with, the men—single and married—who look at her just a little too long, a little too presumptuously. Dani, of course, handles it with grace and charm, and Jamie thinks that maybe she didn’t need her grumpy buffer after all.

She holds tight anyway, just in case.

It’s a dangerous thing to do, parade a fake relationship in front of all of their coworkers, but it doesn’t feel wrong or forced. They’re going on a break soon, Jamie rationalizes. School is going on a two-week break and everyone is drunk and no one is going to remember the scandal of the fourth grade teacher clinging all night to the newest member of the art department. If they do...well, everything can be laughed off or pushed down or forgotten eventually.

So they cling and they talk and Jamie expertly lets every too-interested man know, with absolute certainty, that their efforts should be directed elsewhere. She tickles her fingers against Dani’s, throws in a few isn’t that right, love’s every once in a while, rubs a hand on her back when the moment feels right. And Dani—

Dani invades her space—presses their shoulders together, scratches at the inside of Jamie’s wrist, wipes a stray bit of liquor from the side of her mouth after an untidy sip. Jamie feels all of this and lets it wash over her, lets it sink under her skin and warm her body until she feels like she could start a fire with her hands.

The night winds down and people filter out and eventually there isn’t anyone left to fool. But Dani’s hand is still in hers and Jamie is more than happy to be slow and soft with her. She stays, for the tenth and fifteenth and hundredth time.

It’s just the five of them left, eventually, and they migrate to the bar when the party room in the back seems too large for such a small group. They situate themselves on stools in the corner, and the conversation flows without a hitch. It always has with this group—Owen, Hannah, and Rebecca first, then Dani, then Jamie. She’d tell them all how much it really means to know them if anyone got enough drink in her.

Until then, she’ll scoff at group texts and drag her feet to parties and settle into the fact that they all know it’s for show anyway.

She props her head on her hand and listens, quickly approaching the sleepy part of drinking. She tries not to watch Dani too much while they all talk but it’s difficult—Dani is noticeable at a distance and absolutely striking up close. The curl of her lips as she smiles, the way they overtake her entire face if she means it enough (and she usually does); the laughter that pours out of her and directly into the hearts of anyone lucky enough to be listening; the way her ears look bigger when she hooks her hair behind them, how she only does that when she’s in very comfortable company.

After about thirty minutes, Jamie gets up to retrieve their coats before she does something stupid, like playfully tug at Dani’s earlobe or reach in to straighten the collar on her shirt.

She returns shortly, holding her leather jacket and Dani’s very puffy winter coat, and sits down without a word, content to wait for a natural break in the conversation. She folds the coats over her lap and fiddles with a coaster on the counter.

Dani absently reaches back to still her fingers after about a minute. A simple gesture—resting her hand atop Jamie’s, perhaps swiping her thumb across the back of her hand. Nothing like the displays they’d been putting on earlier. So unlike them, in fact, that Jamie doesn’t notice it at all.

Owen, Hannah, and Rebecca can’t take their eyes off it.

“So, what, were you waiting to tell me until I got back?”

Jamie nurses the dregs of her beer. “Tell you what?”

“This, what is this!” Rebecca exclaims, fluttering her fingers in the direction of Jamie and Dani’s still-clasped hands. “I go gallivanting around the world for an entire year and neither of you mention that you’ve shacked up?”

Jamie and Dani look at their hands, look at each other, and start speaking at the same time.

“We’re not dating, it was just a stupid thing for tonight—”

“Jamie’s doing me a favor since Eddie’s gone and men are creepy—”

“Right, sure.” Rebecca squints and fixes both of them with a sly glance. “It’s just for tonight, to ward off creepy men, which is why you’re still doing it since there are so many of them around now.”

“Must have just gotten used to it,” Dani offers weakly.

“Of course, which is why you still haven’t let go.”

Jamie lets go and tries not to telegraph how much she misses the weight of Dani’s hand.

“You’re definitely not dating,” Rebecca continues, “which is why Jamie got up and got her coat and Dani’s, and left the rest of us hanging.”

Dani looks down and finally notices the coat in Jamie’s lap. “You got my coat?” she asks, furrowing her brow.

“Yeah,” Jamie shrugs. “Seemed like you were ready to go.”

“Yeah, but I was—I was still talking.”

Jamie waves a hand. “You were telling the piano lesson story; you always tell that when you want the night to wind down.”

“No, I—” Dani frowns and retrieves her purse from where it’s hooked around the stool; she rummages through it frantically, her movements loose and messy. “How did you get my coat check ticket?”

“Took that from ya ages ago, Poppins,” Jamie answers. “You were so nervous you were gonna rub the number right off it, and then we’d both be shit outta luck.”

Jamie watches as the expression on Dani’s face morphs, unfurls from stern, puzzled ridges and relaxes into fondness, into twinkling eyes and soft cheeks, a mischievous affection that floors Jamie every time she sees it. Every time, she wonders how many people have been lucky enough to have been on the receiving end of this look, and hopes that the answer is ‘very few’.

“We should, um, probably go,” Dani whispers.

Jamie smiles. “We all drove here together,” she reminds Dani, just as quietly.

Dani slumps back. She reaches for her coat but instead of grabbing it, simply rests her hand on top, like she’s waiting.

Jamie breathes deeply and avoids looking at Rebecca.

“Owen, mate,” she says, daring him to tease her, “maybe you could drop off Dani and me first.”

[babytortie]

baby birds

baby birds. ❘ stanley uris x reader.

summary: in which stanley finally breaks and distances himself from the loser’s group. the reader finds him alone and helps him cope to feel better.

warning: lots of fluff. <3

contains: slight mentioning of insecurities.

* all characters ( including reader ) of the loser's club are 15 years old in this one-shot.

~ 2.4k words.

it's been a couple of days since stanley showed up at the loser's clubhouse and the group was getting anxious. the curly haired teen always showed up after school when the group wanted to hang out. recently, he's made excuses for the past three times they've all hung out though.

"where's stan the man at?" mike broke the silence, uncrossing his legs and getting up from the couch to sit by bill instead. previously, he had been sitting with y/n and beverly. somehow but not before banging it around a few times and ben having to fix the walls, they managed to get the couch inside one weekend.

it was a hand-me down from the denbrough's garage. only deemed safe and clean after eddie tore it apart. the cushions and pillows were shampooed, as well as, a finishing touch of spray downs with two cans of lysol.

"maybe ed's mom is cheating on me and he's with her right now?" richie snickered, glancing up at the others from the hammock to see all of them unamused and letting out groans.

in his hand was the newest comic and for the past couple of minutes he'd been browsing through it. although, the tozier teen was not completely paying attention since he was mesmerized with eddie's face. the sunlight peeked through the wooden cracks and all of the asthmatic boy's freckles dusted perfectly along his skin.

the shorter boy was talking with bill who sat a few feet away from them and overheard the lanky boy's comment through mid-conversation. in return, he leaned over from the other side of the hammock and smacked richie's arm. "don't call me eds! how many times do i have to tell you that? also, i already have a nick name and it's eddie."

he swatted eddie's arm away and of course dramatically rubbed his arm a few times. with another occasional adjustment made to his coke-bottle glasses, richie pouted and put his arms up in exaggeration. "oh right sorry about that eddie spaghetti. but i don't know then. y/n?" he asked, automatically assuming you had answers about the curly haired teenager’s whereabouts.

beverly was in the middle of braiding y/n's hair and rolled her eyes. she let go of your strands and quickly smoothed them out. this was making you able to turn face-forward instead of the current side-ways position on the couch that you now only shared with her.

before reacting to the richie's remark, you gave beverly a sympathetic smile. an awfully long minute went by before you finally acknowledged tozier. he was still cackling though and everyone, including you, could tell it was full of nervousness.

"seriously, richie? i've talked to stanley just as much as the rest of you the last couple of days." you stated with a glare then shrugged before leaning back against the couch cushions.

"y-yeah, just bec-cause y/n and stan a-are love b-birds doesn't m-mean they keep tab-bs on each other all t-the time. ri-ight guys?" bill smirked.

beverly immediately put a hand over her mouth to contain the giggles threatening to spill out. she risked her luck and turned to gaze in your direction but you were already taking note of this with an eyebrow raised.

"are you alright there, beverly?" ben asked out of concern. because of her skin complexion, her face was easily able to turn bright red. he hasn't been paying much attention to the conversation with being zoned out into another good story. hanscom's face had been happily stuffed into an interesting book from the library.

"i'm sorry! sorry, it's just stanley and birds. good one bill!" she stumbled over her words from laughter. after a moment of hearing beverly and richie snickering together, like they were high, the others couldn't help but start hollering and whistling too.

"yep, laugh it up. glad to be of service for the jokes of today." shouting playfully which only caused a channeling of an inner-richie. you grabbed the couch arm for balance and stood up. they watched as you bowed twice then sat back down like the tozier teen would have been doing if he were the one in this situation.

the group would always tease you and stan. this causing the both of you to always blush in result and look anywhere in the room but each other while full of embarrassment.

the crazy thing was that what they said was true. neither of you wanted to admit first though and it was just another daily topic for the group. the other six members wished one of you would just open up and discuss the feelings you two bottled inside. no use still and after months of teasing, you nor stanley backed down yet.

"does anybody know where he'd be at right now?" mike paused to take a glimpse at his watch then added, "at four-thirty? he wouldn't go home so soon yet with his dad being off today."

the group was silent, none knew and the fact you and stan had a secret spot was not common shared information either. you contemplated for a moment before thinking what the hell? and just spoke up with a reply before you could take it back. "yeah, in fact i do. i'll see you guys later."

to avoid their stares, you didn't dare catching their reactions. instead taking that time to lean over the side of the couch and grab your backpack from school, lazily putting the straps around your shoulders.

"see, what'd i tell you?" richie smirked, leaning over in the hammock towards bill for a high five who did not return it but had a grin of his own. ben placed a bookmark into the open pages to mark the spot he left off on. after this, he gave beverly a look. this expression was one similar eddie was giving to mike.

"see you later guys!" you bid farewell once more and climbed the clubhouse stairs to venture off. you stifled a chuckle as you started to walk away, hearing them all burst out mixed comments of confusion and excitement.

about thirty minutes of walking later, you reached the woods surrounding the quarry. there was a ridge in the rocks off to the side which lead to a path. one wouldn't notice it from afar without really inspecting the vicinity.

it was about half a mile and stan was usually there with a towel laid out and his back against one of the trees. a perfect crease-free bird book splayed out on top of his lap and a pair of binoculars in the teen's hands.

recently if stanley were home he'd be in his room. with a lock on his door, he laid while reading books front to back and cover to cover. which was probably what he did last night except, the perfectionist took his sweet ol' time. this was to memorize every picture of the birds and the facts about them that was printed across the crisp pages.

before doing anything, you adjusted the long sleeves of the black and white flannel tied around your waist. your chucks nervously toed in the dirt gravel and you let out a deep breath you hadn't realized you were holding. curiously studying stan after that and noticing your prediction wasn’t far off. it was actually almost spot on except the book was nowhere to be found.

"this seat taken?" you asked, pointing towards the empty spot on the towel next to him. the uris teen jumped a bit, probably zoned out on a bird that was perched on the branch a few trees away from where you and stan were.

he looked over to you, a smile gracing his face. "it is now." uris was never bothered by the fact you often crashed the private bird-watching hobby of his. you knew he enjoyed quiet time in complete silence besides the occasional birds chirping. this was how it was found out that you had taken a liking to often just sitting and relaxing with your favorite person.

you started to move quickly by placing your backpack down before either of you could change his mind. with your hands placed on the back of your tied flannel, you crouched down before finding a comfortable position to sit in. then reaching into the bag, you retrieved the water bottle to take a sip.

after putting it back away, you sneaked a peek at him and saw that he was already watching you. your face flushed and you quickly faced away. not wanting to make a big deal of it, you started a conversation instead.

"you ready to talk yet?" you questioned, not wanting to push him but had already gave him a few minutes to gather his thoughts. he was an over-thinker. you knew him so well that almost all of the time, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

he watched the bird in the binoculars once more. admiring the red and orange colorful feathers before setting it down on the other side of him. letting out a loud sigh, he pondered. "i don't know y/n. am i a disappointment to you?"

stan? stanley uris? you opened your mouth and closed it again quite speechless with disbelief. disappointment? why would the person who you think is the definition of perfect think that he is a disappointment?"

“no way bubs! never." you stated in the most serious tone you've ever used to reassure him. looking into his brown eyes you noticed a few golden flecks that always caught in the sunlight. stan was a beautiful person inside and out but y/n hoped that he knew that.

"are you sure?" he asked, sheepishly and glanced down at his hands. if stanley couldn’t look you directly into the eyes, there was definitely something wrong. you took this as a chance to open up some feelings of your own and grabbed his left hand with your right, interlocking the fingers.

his breath hitched at the sight and he observed your hands together. a pair that fit perfectly and he felt his heart skip a beat at the thought. being as you were still confused, he took this as an appropriate moment to peer up at your face but he caught your eye again instead.

stan felt tears forming in the back of his eyes. figuring he should just tell you sooner or later, he let you know. "uh, so ever since the bar mitzvah, my dad and i have been distant. i just feel like i’m his disgraced son and a failure all the time."

he half-whispered the whole thing. inside he was feeling so ashamed that he told you this with such a sad tone full of dejection. this was shocking, making you completely quiet for a few moments to process the explanation. the tears had won, prickling and slowly starting to glaze over his eyes. your heart was breaking into pieces at the sight.

"it's been like almost two years though? maybe he doesn't know how to go about the situation. you should just get to the bottom of it and confront him tomorrow stanny." suggesting with a soft smile on your lips.

“i don’t know about that y/n, but thanks.” he chuckled, subtly glancing at your lips before clearing his throat and looking away again. while he watched the area, you rested into the crook of his neck. on the towel between the two of you was your right hand still intertwined with his. your eyes flickered up to scan the tree trunks. you gasped loudly at the sight above and patted stanley’s arm to grab his attention.

the two of you watched the branches above closely, your fingers squeezing his tightly while watching in awe. a bird’s nest was leaned up against the trunk of tree. you and stanley sat in silence to witness it. being as it was so quiet now, the only sounds that could be heard were little chirps coming from it.

“is that baby birds?” you whispered excitedly. rubbing over his thumb with yours. he watched how your face softened in awe. truly appreciating that you enjoyed when he shared this specific hobby with you.

his eyes widened when he finally realized the feeling in his stomach. butterflies. probably a whole zoo full of them. that was how much he liked, no, loved you. he shook his head and snickered at the fact you had the decency to talk quietly. “no need to whisper, y/n/n. we’ve been talking out loud this whole time. so, they won’t leave.”

you giggled; a sound that made him feel all mushy inside. stan loved your laugh and knew that if you asked him to do anything right now that he would in fact do it. smoothly letting go of your hand, he moved it rub your shoulder in comfort.

this was until you felt him slowly replacing the position of his fingers and they were repositioned underneath your chin. tilting your head upwards gently, he whispered softly now. it was almost as if he was scared that if he raised his voice to much, it would ruin the moment. “is this okay?”

the curly haired boy looked into your eyes for reassurance and you stumbled over a response by his sudden rush of confidence. lost in shock by his brown and golden flecked eyes, all you could get out was chopped, raspy response. “of course, bubs.”

stanley leaned in slowly, still a bit afraid you would change your mind. proving him wrong you quickly followed to meet him halfway. his lips finally brushed against yours and you felt his hand rub along your cheek with such delicacy. you scooted closer so you could easily put your hand in stan’s hair and massage his curls. he let out a small moan and smiled into the kiss.

before he pulled away slightly to let the two of you breathe, he rubbed your cheek once more. you kissed both corners of his lips and then his nose. a sweet laugh falling from his lips at the gestures.

you grabbed his hand again, playfully sizing them together and he watched. casually asking, “so do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“of course, i’d love to stanny!” grinning you leaned in to peck his lips once more but it turned into a small passionate kiss instead. after you both pulled away again, he questioned with a smirk. “should we tell the others, babylove?”

you let out a small hum, as if you were thinking of an answer. though, you broke the act with a smirk. one that he caught and snickered already knowing how this was going to go.

it wasn’t a hard decision, seeing as you felt like returning a little pay back of your own from all of the teasing. so, your response was simple. “nope. let’s see how long it takes for them to figure it out.”

© babytortie on tumblr + wattpad.

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 68

State vs Lewis Patzer

“October 31, 1947. Mr Barnham’s mansion, while he threw a costume party in another of his properties and upon a search that several priceless gold statues along with gem accented decorations were taken along with a solid ruby/ivory/ebony piano and a variety of black market paintings and marbles. Almost all of the black market pieces were returned to the museums and exhibits they were stolen from. The gem based goods are still missing. All the portraits and statues were replaced by ones modeled around cats.” The student playing the suspect fought a chuckle while you listened to the rest of the opening statement of the Prosecution Antonio Speltzer in a ploy to paint this absurdly rich person as a victim who was heinously victimized.

Mr Patzer’s Lawyer Vernon Dorman stood and took his on turn to bring up how this whole trial was twisted to fulfill a personal grudge against Mr Patzer while there are other suspects who actually could have done this, including his twin Dennis Patzer. And with the conclusion of the opening statements that case was paused to allow the student teams to swap places with the Divorce Case while in the chair you lifted your feet to cross your legs and sit up straighter when one of the girls started to press into your spine to guide them more forward into your belly.

.

Schmidt vs Schmidt

For the husband Emil Mr Felton stood to call up the first character witness for their case to try and sway your impression of the two people who hoped to gain what the wanted and needed in this division of assets and custody.

Ray Schwartz – Age 32 atop the stand sat and as best friend to the husband made his loyalty known in a slew of statements as for what he had heard and supposedly witnessed upon her failure as both wife and mother. Compared fully to the elder Mrs Schmidt and how she was the pinnacle role model mother and wife for the husband to aim for in a wife for himself.

Dan Vallier – Age 42, the former boss of Mrs Schmidt in the gallery she once was employed while you made a few pretend notes to the student playing up his testimony that she couldn’t keep up with the job. Of course you could hear from the details that it was her focus on her son’s activities and health that had kept her from jumping to the Boss’ every beck and call that landed her out of his employment. Which had the male student for the husband smirk in believe that the male pretend wife had been made openly a pitiful financial provider for their young son.

Lee Hogue in the excuse of Mr Vallier began his own call for the first two character witnesses for the pretend Mrs Schmidt. Irene Moses – Age 23 was called up and delved amusingly into several tales of how in her former relationship with Mr Schmidt who dumped her for an even younger woman with whom he was to be soon hopefully wedded. From broken property, his outbursts and continued possessive letters that she is still receiving years after their break up.

Leslie Welch – Age 24, former driver to her and their child shared a trio of tales when he witnessed the husband degrading his wife and being lost into a deep dependence upon alcohol that has drawn a new side out of Mr Schmidt that is rather despicable and cruel to those around him who do not control his paycheck. As he shared that around fellow employees or bosses he can put on a calm exterior and paint himself with a friendlier brush.

.

A couple exams and an open Saturday granted you some work on a new part for your tv you made that in the middle of the next page of the translation you moved onto next to keep from using too much energy you drifted off and woke up to a lunch under a blanket in a nest of pillows the guys had nestled around you. Talks of the house next door came up with Gina and her husband who talked with Eddie on more plans through the meal you struggled to focus on at the lack of a comfortable position to be found. Sharp and clear the drop of your fork to the plate turned heads to you and brought James back from the kitchen without the refill on your drink he’d gone to fetch. His hand right over your back while your hands folded around the arms of your chair in a pained inch back in your seat, “Breathe out Bunny,” Gina said in a pop up to take your free side and gently laid a hand over your still supple belly. “Just breathe out, nice and slow.”

Slow and steady you exhaled and James said, “That wasn’t labor.”

Gina shook his head and said, “No, belly’s not hard.” Shakily you inhaled through the receding wave of pain that had radiated from your hips and said in a lock of your eyes on his, “Just your first Braxton Hicks. Just a check of your muscles.”

Sharply you exhaled and said, “You know if it feels like this why don’t all the girls do this? So much fun,” you said making her chuckle and reach up to fix your bangs that fell in your face.

“I’m going to get you some more pickles, baby corn and beets. Mine always relaxed when I snacked extra.”

Sharply you exhaled again to James’ next stroke of your back while you somehow suddenly came upon a comfortable sort of hunch forward and lifted your fork again saying, “You were saying, about the green tile.” Tentatively attention went back to the house and when he had confirmed Victor would watch you in the few moments away James did fetch your drink and remained fixed at your side to ensure your comfort for the rest of the day.

All through your return to the nest to do more translations until up in bed you laid out after a few more gentle pecks from your worried husband who in his trip to turn off the light turned to eye you on the bed in a soft huff. Hastily he flipped the switch and came back to bed and eased up on it behind you asking, “Are you in pain?”

“I’m an inch too low,” you sighed and he chuckled and leaned in to curl a hand below your thighs to glide you just a bit higher inside your nest that had you settle in more comfortably. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” And sweetly behind you he cuddled close, pleased that your extra metal insulation in the walls had kept the house cool in this humid spring so that he could cuddle up to you still without causing you to warm up too much and send him away. Under your stolen shirt from his supply he slid his hand to stroke your belly in the close of his eyes to confirm for himself with all his focus that his babies were not coming out early and would wait the few more weeks left to the finish line for a private birth in your home your family would fix up the final details upon your return.  

“I suppose Herc will be interested to know about my pain earlier. Finally have something more than a bruise to question him about.”

A bit more he wiggled his forehead to rest fully into your hair against the back of your head to the kick against his palm, “I doubt he has been bored in seeing to you and our girls.”

“I just mean, 48 weeks pregnant, and nine weeks left finally something to get his blood pumping.”

That had him chuckle, “You didn’t see him pop in the middle of our house to share you’d been scared by an owl when ever we got tingles something happened after the Twins gave the all clear on danger. Plenty of blood pumping moments.”

You sighed again and asked, “What happens if I keep having triplets? One set after the other?”

“We’ll have to build another wing onto the house. But however our babies come in whatever groups they choose to arrive in I will do all I can to help you. I wish I could do more.”

“You’re amazing,” you sighed again and said to the pull of your leg up that lifted his head.

“Foot cramp again?” You nodded and after a gentle press of his lips to your cheek he sat up and slid down taking the covers with him to rest your foot on his lap to cradle it and massage the odd cramp in your foot that had been on and off since your false contraction earlier. “At least Herc will be by after Mass.” Again you sighed making him grin at the sight of you with brows furrowed to the cramp that had him start to hum to you while he massaged your foot and lower leg gradually lulling you to sleep.

It almost seemed to have come full circle, at the uncertain beginning when there was no idea three babies were growing inside of your belly now with almost five pound babies safely growing stronger by the day again naps and sleep were paramount in this stressful town. And he knew that much like over the Winter when you magnificently had begun to show and they had grown impressively in that peaceful free time he knew could change the back end of this pregnancy for you. Not just free from the eyes of the press but well within the chance to have your parents there to fill those gaps of support he and the others couldn’t fill while Herc was available to come up and stay for daily checks if needed. And when he felt your legs were at ease he settled down again around your back to slip into his own dreams of what was coming.

.

Spare inches on the now oddly shinier belly you stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom with your head tilted through a turn from side to side. The impressive bubble shape a bit less pointed from the stretched area where your babies began to stretch out more had you tell James in his step to your side from the toilet nook he turned away from after having flushed a moth he found in your closet. “I look like someone coated me in butter.”

Softly he chuckled and said after a kiss of your temple, “You look fantastic.” Still smiling from a candid photograph he had taken earlier when you were changing out of his stolen clothes to add to the collection. Back from your side he collected the pants you wanted to wear he helped you step into after you’d changed your underwear and added some padding to your bra in case of some leaking of the milk you started to dribble. A blouse was next to add and be settled underneath the straps of your pants. “Only means the babies are growing and you with them.”

“From the side I look like a snake that ate a beaver.” Unable to help it he chucked and leaned in to kiss you on his lips sweetly and then bent to add your socks and your sneakers.

“You do not.” Up again he stood and guided you to the bathroom where he helped to comb out your braid he helped to work the top half of your hair back into a clip so your hat would sit nicely while the rest of your curls hung loosely down your back. Rain sounds grew louder on the way down and after a light breakfast in the cars you drove off to the Mass lit by candlelight followed by another meeting with Herc.

.

This time it was a great deal more focused upon checks of your hips and pelvis, these done in one of the spare rooms for more room for use of a new device that cut out another worrisome intrusive internal exam. Checks of blood pressure with a bulb activated pump were followed by a prick of your finger for a drop of blood to be added to a solution in a small vial he settled inside a lemon sized cube device.

Over that a full readout of the results were projected and you asked to his focused expression, “Is that good?”

“Oh yes, I would suggest some more pickles though. Your girls are using a good bit of your iron.”

Eddie popped up, “Pickles, on it,” and hurried to the kitchen.

Herc said with a grin, “Again, the tests are all good, your pelvic floor as well is growing more elastic which is a good sign at this stage. The hips as well, nice and cushioned for when they shift in labor.”

You nodded and asked at the still projected results, “What is all that?” Spreading his grin to shift the projection so you could read it properly while he explained it all and how it showed your progress and the girls’. You nodded and asked timidly, “You um, so you don’t have to do any, internal exams?”

Kindly he gave you a grin to James’ pat on your back, “No, thankfully with our kin we require that usually only on the day of labor to gauge progress or to shift the position of the babies. I understand that first exam was quite unsettling to you when that Nurse examined your ovaries.” You nodded and he gently patted your hand rested on the bed beside you, “I will not cross that boundary of your comfort until necessary and only with your permission and full disclosure of the reasoning. I do understand there is quite the common notion that your body is no longer your own in pregnancy,” he nodded as you did in a fight against tears that misted into your eyes. “This is your body and I will always respect that. There is always time to explain things even in emergencies, a great deal of Doctors forget that compassion when treating patients these days when we see things so pragmatically in search of diagnosis or cure of ailments.” You nodded again and smiled to Eddie in his lowering a full try of snacks to the bed he eased off of to rest beside you, “For now, leg and foot exam while you snack and I will check your levels again in a bit.”

A couple of contractions when your exam was through had Herc shift his focus to her and her baby girl who through him made it clear that she was ready to come out in the next few days that allowed the brood to plan accordingly for the sudden arrival. The family dinner that followed granted you a chance to hand over a gift to her just in case she went into labor while you were at school, a crank fed mobile that played a lullaby like the one she had been pining over for years when she had a baby girl of her own. Tearfully she gave you a hug and confirmed that you hadn’t spent the ridiculous sum that the magazine she’d seen it in listed it for and squealed excitedly as her husband promised to install it when they got home over the crib to have it ready.

.

State vs Lewis Patzer

Antonio Speltzer stood across from the Detective Nathaniel Madison, Age 43, who delved into the whole process of the investigation of the case and then delved into the identification of Mr Patzer as the suspect who was behind the robbery.

And when Mr Speltzer sat down and representation for the Defense Vernon Dorman stood and adjusted his jacket buttons and asked his first few questions and then finished off with what he hoped to be his zinger. “Detective Madison, is it not true that Jacob Shea, who you credit the naming of Mr Patzer as the prime suspect, named him in the process of negotiating a plea deal on his own pending felony charges?”

Detective Madison cleared his throat and said, “Yes, we were discussing his plea deal when he brought it to our attentions.”

Vernon Dorman answered, “No further questions, Your Honor.”

Cecilia Marsh – Age 39 came next with the Prosecution who displayed a variety of blown up copies of several art pieces that she priced and named. A few which you corrected the dates in the notes and made a few people in the crowds smirk at your unknown mouthing of the proper dates, including the author, Clifford Adler, of the case who made note to check those dates later to correct in the notes for the case. And had to smirk at the pictures of the replacement pieces of artwork all themed after cats.

Vernon Dorman at the end of the initial questioning stood to say, “No questions, Your Honor.” And he sat again for the next witness to be led up as the prosecution gathered up the pictures and Officer Graham left the easel for the blueprint of the Mansion brought out for the next witness.

Jimmie Feigel – Age 28. Head security guard in charge of that property was asked several questions on his usual tasks and pattern of patrol and then questions of the discovery of the theft came next which the Defense expanded on by clarifying that even in the absence of goods there was no sign of who might have committed the crime or even how they had gotten in or out.

Jacob Shea – Age 43. A Mobster who testifies in deal for pending case that he’d seen one of the twins at a bar planning the heist and at a pool hall gaining a crew to pull it off. Hinting coercion of identification by the Defense digging more into the details of how the identity of the suspect was brought up eventually bringing to light there was a supply of pictures laid out for him to choose from when the Detective swayed the questioning from his own Felony charges to the robbery. An admission that had the crowd buzzing all through the switch over for the next case.

.

Schmidt vs Schmidt

Ben Lynch – Age 51, a licensed Psychiatrist. Atop the stand was halfway through his statement of how he was approached in the planned testimony that Mr Schmidt had approached him and shared about his wife to see what sort of mental problems she might be suffering from to solidify his grounds that she was unstable.

“Mr Lynch,” to the cease of the silent taps of your pen atop your notepad you felt his eyes shift to land on you with brows raised and you asked, “Did you just say that Mr Schmidt approached you and filled you into this whole situation?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” he answered and you tapped your pen on the notepad again.

“Have you ever spoken to Mrs Schmidt?”

“No, Your Honor,” he said and stole a glance at Billie Bretz, the author of the case over the shoulder of the pretend concerned Mr Schmidt’s shoulder.

“Have you ever met Mrs Schmidt?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Alright, then I’m going to have to excuse you.”

“Okay,” he said and stood to return to follow Officer McTavish who smirked guiding him back out to the hall before the next witness would be brought in.

Mr Schmidt’s Lawyer Mr Felton asked, “Your Honor?”

“I will not accept any diagnosis from any Medical Professional who has not personally consulted the supposed afflicted party. And had Mrs Schmidt spoken to him without the grounds of a criminal mental inquiry said testimony would be inadmissible in court as well even with the permission of the Husband to share her confidential information shared with Mr Lynch unless she had threatened to harm someone or herself. And then that would be heard in grounds of a criminal case not a Divorce Hearing.”

“Fair enough,” Mr Felton said that had his pretend client shift his hands in a ‘what the hell’ motion he could only shake his head at while the judges of the case made note of your decision and reasoning.

Estelle Warner – Age 21. Assistant who says she demands gifts and is bad with and is after money came next and had you pretending to take notes to keep from rolling your eyes through the fruitless testimony.

Where you had to keep from rolling your eyes you had to keep from laughing when the next student came up to represent the 20 year old current mistress, Wilhelmina Adler. Who was called in favor of the current Mrs Schmidt who ends up admitting in the line of questioning by Lee Hogue in favor of his client that brought out her pattern of dating well off men. Ending with a glaring statement that she has the impression that Mr Schmidt’s son Daniel could ruin things between the both of them and their happiness.

Leonard Frisbe – Age 39. Tutor for young Daniel came with a share on both environments the child was residing in, and while the father’s home was more spacious his mother’s home came with a parent who took part in the studies of the child to help him understand topics that came difficult for the tutor to get him to understand.

With a nod you flashed him a smile and said, “Thank you Mr Frisbe, you are excused.” He nodded and strolled out and you called the case for the day to meet again in two days for the next step in the process.

.

More exams and handwritten essay prompts filled your Tuesday while you sat to the side in separate desks while your Professors ensured that more of the final assignments were crossed off their grade books to finalize your credits before the month was up. Jointly along with a note from the Dean of Barnard and Columbia they stated that the first week of April was the solidified date that you would be graduating this semester as a sort of firm support of you and this next step of your pregnancy to grant some highly required rest from all of the public press. All around the dinner table at least that letter gave a solid date to be spread through the family to plan accordingly.

.

State vs Lewis Patzer

Vernon Dorman for Mr Patzer’s defense called up the first witness and began with Matilda Patzer – Age 54, his grandmother who was with him and his Grandfather as well as the night when the goods were returned. While you hoped to throw out the case a few details were a bit too shaky for you to do so when the Prosecution cross examined her.

Charity Patzer – Age 22 was next and also was a hair away from being worthy of throwing out the case when she stood as his alibi for Halloween night.

Ralph Adler – Age 27 was next and while the Prosecution used the fact that there are identical twins involved was used to fight the alibis was used against the Prosecution’s case with a doubled down attack that the Detective had a deep seeded grudge against Lewis Patzer since he did not return the affections the Detective’s daughter had for him. Buzz worthy testimony the Prosecution could not shake that gave way to the final witness before the closing statements.

Lawrence Barnham – Age 45, the victim of the case was called next and took the stand to play what the files had him as a living airhead of an heir to a fortune with little to offer the world beyond his pocketbook withdrawals. All of which brought little sympathy from anyone when his ploy to state he had lost dear things to him, and while it made a tiny dent in his overall fortune did not leave him any worse for wear aside from hurt feelings.

.

Schmidt vs Schmidt

Once everyone took their seats after a bathroom break for you to the group you flashed a quick grin and said, “I realize the both of you are hoping that after all of the character witness testimonies that I could decide everything for you and wrap it up in a nice bow for you. However I have a few more questions and information I need from the both of you.” Both sides nodded and you asked, “Mr Schmidt, how many hours do you work?” he answered the question and then shifted in his seat as you asked, “And while you work when you have custody of your son who watches him?”

“I have a nanny.”

You nodded and made a tick mark next to that question on the list you had noted to ask later and asked, “And in or out of your custody how many school events do you go to?”

“Um,” he said and wet his lips, “I go to the occasional game when I can with my job.”

“Fair enough,” you said and made a tick mark on the list and asked, “And how much savings do you have set away for Daniel for schooling or emergencies?”

Your eyes landed on him in the draw of his pretend smug attitude in saying to a nudge of his elbow into his lawyer’s, “I make more than enough with my job to not need savings. And the boy isn’t anywhere near old enough to think on college yet.��

Blankly at him you stared a moment and made him inch back in his seat before you asked the same questions to the male student acting as the wife who while she had basic funds compared to his to draw from she spent more quality time with the boy and never missed a chance to be with him during his school events she assured he made it to.

You nodded and said “I would like to speak to Daniel,” and Officer Browen grinned as you said, “Officer Browen would you escort him in?”

To the hall he went and heads turned to watch the anxious preteen who was the stand in nine year old son that smiled and poked is brother’s arm on the way to the stand where he made sure to flash you a glimpse of the Venom and Battle Bunny comic in his hand. To your smile he settled into his seat and listened as you said, “Now, Daniel, I know this is a bit confusing but I just have a few questions for you to make sure that I have all the details and perspectives.”

He nodded and into his schooling and clubs he shared the memorized details and those he stole glances at his script of his life tucked inside the comic book to answer your questions. Sharing fully that he loved school and his clubs and was an active and happy child who seemed to be adjusting well to the two new household situation even though he might wish his dad would be around more. “What do you think of the new two home situation? Do you feel happier?”

The preteen after a glance at his sheet said, “My parents fight less, and even though Dad doesn’t come to many of my games or meets when he’s not around his new girlfriend he does spend more time with me.” Then he added, “I would like to spend more time with my mom though, usually I spend most of the time with a nanny at dad’s visits when he works.”

You nodded and said, “Well thank you for answering my questions, and if you don’t mind following Officer Browen again your parents should be out in a little bit.” He nodded and smiled in his pop up for a relieved sort of bounce to the hall past his grinning brother who was proud of his baby brother’s successful role in this trial.

And in his absence when the Officer Browen went back to his spot you adjusted yourself to face the parents and said, “As far as the primary custody is concerned I am awarding that to Mrs Schmidt.” Jaws dropped in the crowd and the students at the tables inched up in amused shock as you clarified, “Parenthood is more than money and for all of the houses and hired staff to watch after your son Mr Schmidt he is a kind hearted bubbly boy with big dreams and solitude and distance can only crush that without proper guidance and reinforcement. I will leave the aspect of dates to decide visitation between your Lawyers, however I have a list of information that I will sort through to the details of your assets to ascertain the proper financial support to be granted as child support.”

After a pause you stated, “And amongst the division of dates for visitation I would like the both of you to draft up your wills.” That had their lips part and you said, “We will continue this hearing on Friday.” And you brought down the gavel casting the courtroom in an amused and stunned moment of confusion in your rise and stroll out with the amused General behind you.

Assets present/future

Property/Bank information

Child’s activities and school records

Prenup or postnup

Husband’s work habits

Wife’s possible income, former assets

Possible child support and alimony

All from the evidence boxes were compiled at home and would be consulted later when you got home to mark up the financial settlement while the pretend divided couple would spend the next class they had off to work out with their pretend Lawyers to mark up dates to spilt monthly with holidays divided or agreed to be celebrated together. The wills confusingly were drafted up by means of a textbook they got from the library to know how to write it up with details filled in from the evidence given and typed up for a less shoddy version to be brought into the final hearing on Friday when they hoped the case was to be closed.

“You asked them to make wills?” was whispered through the halls and they continued on excitedly to gossip and guess on your plans to see if they will be right about them when Friday rolled around. The same question that was echoed when you returned home and sat with the notes to compile them all as you used the guys as sounding boards for what you had decided.

Just two weeks were until your trip and through the home small bits were being tucked away in trunks and suitcases to be driven back to Canada to simplify the final tings to grab the day of the move. Absolute neutrality was an odd mood that washed over you and across the main floor you paced and did a few odd stretches along the way that had the guys peer between doorways more than a bit confused by their tries to hint they had your usual nesting spots ready for you that had failed.

Reinforcements sent in the form of a pouting toddler with a ball in hand had you settled down on a cushion on the floor to play with Teddy until dinner was called for. A meal he tottered off to and with an adorable tilt of your head backwards to glance at Victor with a chuckle he squatted to take hold of your upper thighs on your legs you unfolded and planted to help you up once your hands had settled behind his neck. James’ hand extended to claim yours for the walk to eat after having set down the camera to capture that moment and gladly after you had eaten your fill a bath and early night in let them relax.

.

Closing arguments and the send off of the Jury to deliberate bled to the Divorce Case that had you hand over two copies of the decided arrangements that both sides read along with you while the author of the case smirked taking note of the decisions in the payment plans and custody agreement. Including their decided dates that you signed off on and shared tasks in case of emergency to renegotiate days to skip if one of them was suddenly unavailable to have custody that day.

After that you said, “And I just have one final thing to say before I close this case to you Mr Schmidt. You have no right not to protect your family from the worst case scenario. I know all too well what happens to a mother who loses their spouse and father to their child and now has to adjust accordingly to raise her children alone. And while you might consider nine a huge leap from eighteen if you dropped dead tomorrow your child would be left without any means of support at all. That was the reason for my order to have you write your will, and if you do marry your current flame then I highly suggest re-writing that will to include her and any possible children you might conceive from that union. I would also advise speaking with a financial consultant to begin a savings plan and possible trust for your son that could be set aside for his schooling and remain protected should the worst befall you. Sunny skies today do not negate storm clouds tomorrow. Buy an umbrella and some boots for your son.” You said to the slam of the gavel that had some in the crowd chuckle and begin to clap as you turned to head to the office to simply get out of that room and chair that your body didn’t want to remain fixed upon any longer to final notes being taken by the Judges who collected the copies of your drafted plans for the couple.

For Psychology at least you were able to stand for a bit off to the side of your desk against the wall out of view of mostly everyone but the understanding Professor who calmed on threats of labor when you finally felt relaxed enough to lower into your seat for the rest of the class. Literature however had you arrive to an empty classroom where you read the note that a family emergency had the Professor gone but the TA there with a grin and a special exam in hand to have you complete for a final major credit for the semester for his class. To your usual seat you strolled and accepted the packet to complete then turn in for a short break to browse through one of the courtyards until the Photography club would meet.

Up to the tree where you found the owl from before you peered locked in place only to turn and smile at the Twins who guided you to the club room and would wait to meet you again after to show you to James’ car. And by the time you got home the reason for your discomfort was clear as Ambrose woke the family in the middle of the night when she went into labor and by Saturday morning had a bouncing baby girl to have the family boast about at mass the following day while she got about a week to rest.

.

Not Guilty would be the words that echoed through the halls while you focused on the course list that you had sent for from the same Alberta Community College that Columbia and Barnard would accept credits for through your summer break to get ahead on your degrees. Some that you would have to attend on campus but others the school at the tolerable distance allowed for weekly visits from a tutor for check ins on your understanding and bi-weekly exams in a program that was meant to aid new mothers specifically in continuing their credits. Quite proudly they meant to welcome the second of the sibling set to grace their campus to take up the courses they had to offer.

And by the time you got to the meeting of the paper your booklet on the Canadian College drew more than a few gazes and Portia smiled asking, “They finally sent the book for your summer classes?”

You nodded calming the young women in the room as you answered, “They’re letting me take a whole chunk of my credits at home, out of the twelve they let me sign up for I have to go on campus for five of them. The rest they’ll send a tutor out to make sure I’m on track and to monitor tests twice a month at the house.”

Portia, “Oh that’s wonderful news. Have you with those Bachelor Degrees in no time.”

Amber asked, “And you’ll be back in September?”

You nodded, “Yes, they’re compact courses in a program for new mothers they are picking up. I think it should go well.”

Another of the young women asked, “And you’ll have time for the birth?”

“Oh ya, I don’t start the at home classes until the end of May and the back half of June I start the on campus classes, so there’s time for me to give birth and get my feet back before I have to head out to the campus, and even that is twice a week.”

The news calmed the group and while you left the room silent smiles behind you were traded in the plan for the first meeting next week to give you an amazing send off to the semester. Schedules to keep over the summer seemed to help and calls from the University had confirmed the best would be chosen and given a non-disclosure contract to not share anything that they would learn about yourself, your family or so much as what color your soap trays were. An odd addition in hopes to have you calmed that the press situation from New York wouldn’t happen in Canada and you would be given a semblance of privacy and heaps of respect in this difficult time of transition. And all you had to pull from the conversation with your moment of corvid brain was to discuss with the family on what type of soap dishes you all wanted for the numerous bathrooms within the spacious manor.

Pt 69

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @changlingkhat​

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam​​, @swoopswishsward

[flowerfan2]

Love Is The Seventh Wave

McDanno, A03, 2400 words

Written for the H50 Writers Club Discord “Danny Deserves Better” challenge

“Are you serious?”  she says, and all eyes in the writer’s room turn towards her. “That’s just cruel.  And it makes no sense.”

 “It’s dramatic, Lola.”

 “Lilla,” she corrects, surprised that the douchebag even came close, given that he hasn’t spoken more than those three words to her since she started working for him a month ago. “Just hear me out.  What if instead of having totally out of character bathroom sex with Joanna....”

 *****

 Danny’s sipping idly at his drink when he notices the woman sitting nearby.  She’s pretty, her dark hair a contrast to her light silky blouse, and she’s about as out of place at this bar at ten o’clock in the morning as Danny is.

 She looks up at him, and Danny cracks a smile.  “You looking at me?”

 The woman shakes her head.  “The television’s behind you.  And I desperately need a distraction.”

 Same here, Danny thinks.  “Well, if you’d rather have a live distraction than whatever’s on the news, I’m happy to oblige.”

 The woman smiles and moves over to the seat next to him, bringing her coffee with her.  “At this point I’m willing to try anything.”

 “Buy you a drink?  Wine, beer, scotch on the rocks?”

 “Nah, I’m good.  Not quite desperate enough to drink the hard stuff before noon.”  She glances at Danny’s glass.

 “Club soda,” he admits, and she grins.

 “We’re practically twins.”  She sticks out her hand.  “I’m Joanna.”

 “Danny.”  Her hand is soft, but her grip is firm and doesn’t linger.  “It’s nice to meet you.  So, what do you want to talk about?”

 “Oh, anything but my love life.”

 A laugh bursts out of Danny. “Get right to the point, do you?”

 “No sense wasting time.  For all I know, you’re a reporter doing a story on bars that open before noon and you’ll have to dash off to the next one any minute now.”

 “No chance.  I’m a detective, actually.  But I’m taking a personal day.”

 She gives him an appraising look. “A cop?  But you seem so nice.”

 “Ha, ha, ha.  Very funny.”

 “So,” Joanna says, “why a personal day?”

 Danny takes a moment wondering how to answer this – he’s not really sure himself – when his phone rings. It’s Steve, of course, and the fact that hearing his voice makes his whole body light up just adds fuel to the giant dumpster fire that is his life.  He hangs up after a few minutes and turns back to Joanna.

 “Who was that?”

 “My partner.”

 Joanna looks at him appraisingly, and then nods.  “Yeah, I’ve got one of those.”

 “You’re a cop too?”

 She snorts.  “Um, no, that’s not what I meant.  I’m a lawyer, actually.”

 Danny’s confused.  “So you have, what, law partners?”

 Joanna takes a packet of sugar and adds it to the fresh coffee the bartender has set down in front of her. “You’re a little oblivious, aren’t you?”

 It’s said with such amusement that Danny isn’t mad, and he’s happy to play along.  “Oblivious about what?”

 Joanna sighs and takes a careful sip of her drink, then stirs it some more.  “You’re telling me that guy you just spoke to is your work partner?”

 “Yes, who else would he be?” Danny has his own answer for this, but it’s a fantasy he hasn’t entertained in, oh, at least an hour or so.

 Joanna shrugs noncommittally.

 They slip into a more or less comfortable silence, and Danny contemplates his club soda.  It’s just as boring as it was when he started it. He’s not even sure why he’s here, at a random bar on the north shore.  When he woke up this morning, knowing he had a day free to do anything he wanted, a day off from work and all of its headaches, the first thing he thought of was checking the weather report to see what the waves would be like – because surfing with Steve is one of his favorite things to do to de-stress.  But then he realized that Steve didn’t have the day off too, and it all seemed pointless.

 A day without obligations is hard to come by for a single working dad, and Danny knows in theory he should be enjoying it.  But he’s not.

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”

 Danny is drawn out of his thoughts by Joanna’s comment.  “No, you’re fine, it’s not you.”

 Joanna leans back a little and runs a hand through her hair.  “Want to know what I’m doing here?”

 Danny takes in her flattering outfit, her carefully done make-up.  “Waiting for a client meeting?”

 She laughs.  “Nope.  One with my partner.”

 “Your law partner,” Danny clarifies.

 Joanna laughs again.  “Yes.  Except that’s the problem.”

 “What’s the problem?”

 Joanna takes a deep breath.  “The truth is, I’d like it if my law partner were a little more than that.”

 Danny feels a rush of shame, and looks quickly around the bar – still empty, except for the bartender.  “Is this some kind of joke?”

 She reaches out and puts a hand on his arm.  “Relax. I’m really not pulling your chain. I’m telling the god’s honest truth.” She takes her hand back and swipes at her phone.  “Here, see? We go out for drinks every Thursday night, everyone in the office.  Thirsty Thursday kind of thing.  Last night went on a little longer than usual, since we just got some really good news on a case.”

 Joanna shows him a photograph of a tall, blond woman with her arm around Joanna, both of them in business suits and holding glasses of champagne.  Several other people are crowded around them.  All of them are making happy faces at the camera, except for Joanna, who has eyes only for the woman at her side.  

 “Oh,” says Danny.

 “Yeah,” says Joanna.  “And I’m pretty sure Jasper – he took the picture – sent it and about twenty other equally embarrassing ones to everyone who was there, including my partner.”

 “Is that good or bad?”  Danny asks.

 “I’m not sure.  But I’m going to find out.”

 “What do you mean?”

 Joanna taps her fingers on the bar, clearly a little nervous.  “Okay, you’re probably going to thing I’m nuts.  I went for my usual run this morning, through my neighborhood and down to the beach.  It’s the same route I’ve run hundreds of times, and there isn’t much beach there, just some scrubby trees by the water’s edge, but you know any bit of beach is beautiful here, so it’s all good.  And this morning, for the first time ever, I saw a honu on that little beach.

 “A turtle?”

 “Yeah.  I’ve never seen one there before, but today there was a honu right there, a really big one.”

 “Okay…”

 “Honu are a symbol of good luck, right? I’ve realized that if I don’t say something to my partner soon, I’m going to lose my mind, or have to quit my job, or both – and once I saw that honu, I knew I could tell her how I feel. I’m going to do it today.”

 “Wow,” Danny said, feeling buoyed by Joanna’s excitement.  “You really are?”

 “I really am.”  Joanna stands up from her chair and straightens her skirt. “I finally realized it’s too important to keep hiding from.  The way I feel about her… I think I love her, you know?  And I can’t believe I’m telling you all this, maybe it’s easier because I don’t know you…”

 “No, I get it,” Danny says, and he does.  Sitting in this random, sunny bar, with a woman he’s never met before, with no preconceived assumptions, no rules or requirements, Danny suddenly feels like he’s opening up, too.  

 “I just don’t want to let a chance for love pass me by, not any more,” Joanna continues.  “Not if we could really be something, and I think maybe we can. So I asked her to meet me at one of our favorite restaurants for lunch, in Haleiwa.  Away from the office, somewhere private… and I better go, I don’t want to be late.”

 “Of course not,” Danny says, standing too.

 Joanna regards him for a long moment, and Danny squirms a little.  “I think today is your lucky day, too,” Joanna says.

 “Why’s that?”

 “Because you met me,” Joanna says, grinning as she leaves.  Danny thinks she’s right.

 ****

Joanna’s excitement is infectious, and Danny feels himself standing a little straighter as he leaves the bar. Maybe her plan would work for him, too. He hasn’t wanted to say anything to Steve for all the obvious reasons – he doesn’t know if Steve feels the same way despite how close they are, he’s never heard Steve express any interest in men at all, and he doesn’t want to ruin their friendship.  But this constant pining is wearing away at him, and he isn’t getting any younger.  What if he waits another ten years and then it turns out Steve was up for something more after all – what a waste that would be.  Or what if he doesn’t have ten years to make up his mind – what if Steve’s conversation with Eddie’s veterinarian this morning turns into asking her out for a date, and they hit it off and live happily ever after?

 There are millions of ways that Danny can miss his chance with Steve, and only one way to find out if he’s still got one.

 Danny makes a few stops on his way back to Steve’s place.  He texts Tani a few times to keep tabs on the team and make sure he knows when Steve’s heading home.  He’s got a caprese salad drizzled with balsamic vinegar on the table and wine opened and breathing on the counter when he hears the front door open.

 Steve appears in the doorway to the kitchen, and Danny’s jaw falls open.  Steve’s wearing a dark gray button-up shirt, collar open at the neck, and black slacks that hug his ass like his cargoes never quite manage.  He even looks freshly shaved.

 “Hey, Danno,” Steve says, voice low, and Danny shivers.  He takes a step towards Steve but somehow trips over his own feet and the carving knife in his hand goes flying to the ground.

 Steve sucks in a breath, and they both stare at the knife, stuck in the floorboards about an inch away from Danny’s bare right toe.  “Huh,” says Steve.  “Lucky.”

 Danny sucks in a breath and shakes his head, trying to grab on to anything at all that makes sense. “Why’re you dressed up?”  he finally comes up with, which isn’t particularly witty but is somewhat better than oh my fucking god what is going on here, which is a close second.

 Steve smirks.  “I’ve got a date.”

��Danny’s heart sinks.  He’s too late, he’s just one goddamn day too late, this is his life every single time.  He was a fool for thinking otherwise.

 “With that vet?”

 Steve looks determined.  “No, not with the vet.”  Steve crouches down at his feet and retrieves the knife, then places it in the sink.  He’s right up in Danny’s space.  “You look nice too,” Steve says, and at first Danny think’s it’s a non sequitur, but then he takes in Steve’s expression, that cocky confidence with an undercurrent of uncertainty, and the way Steve is lining up his own very nicely clad shoulder with Danny’s, and suddenly the clouds part and all is clear.

 “Wait,” Danny says.  “What do you think… How did you…?”

 Steve’s face does something that seems to be a cross between a smirk and a hopeful grin.  “Tani said you texted her a few times today.”

 “So?”

 “She said you were buying wine.”

 Danny bites his lip.  “Again, so?”

 “You never buy wine, unless you’re cooking a fancy meal.”

 “I buy wine all the time.”

 “When was the last time?”

 Danny has to think pretty hard about it, and that’s when he knows he’s losing this particular argument.  He still has hope for winning the war, however, so he stops talking about wine.

 “Can we go back to the part where you said you had a date?  Because you’re not acting like you have a date.”

 “No?”  Steve asks.  “How should I be acting?”  Steve somehow moves even closer to Danny, tilting his head, waiting for Danny’s answer.

 Danny can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he thinks he might be getting light headed.  

 “Come on, Danny,” Steve says, his breath puffing against Danny’s skin.  “How should I be acting?”

 Danny just blinks up at him, and then he’s saved from having to come up with an answer by Steve’s lips pressing against his own.  Danny thinks he lets out something like a moan as his mouth opens under Steve’s, and he slides his hands up Steve’s back under his ridiculous shirt and pulls him close.

 ****

 “You can’t possibly have known what I was going to do just from Tani telling you I was buying wine.”

 Steve flops over onto his back. The sheet is pulled up just over his stupidly attractive hip bones, and Danny sneakily reaches out a finger to slide it back down again.

 “Honestly, all I knew was that it seemed like you were getting ready for a date,” Steve says.  “And it made me realize that I could lose my chance with you, anytime.  You could meet someone, maybe even that woman you were talking to at the bar this morning, and it would be too late for us.  So I changed into the spare clothes I keep at the office, and figured I’d give it my best shot.”

 Danny pushes up on an elbow. “Have you eaten a radioactive spider lately?  Drank some kind of serum?”

 “No…”

 “Because the mindreading shit is frankly disturbing…  I literally – and I mean the actual meaning of literally, not the one the kids are using these days – I literally had that same thought today.  That you’d finally get up the nerve to ask out that vet again, or fall in love while buying ammunition, or save some gorgeous lady’s pet parakeet from terrorists, and I’d lose my chance with you.”

 Steve turns towards Danny, his face brimming with affection.  “I guess today really was our lucky day, then.”

 Danny grins into Steve’s kiss. He’s gonna send Joanna a fruit basket. And maybe give a great big donation to whatever organization looks out for the honu, because he owes them, too.

[backtothestart02]

Hazy - 5/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: It’s finally here! I hope you enjoy!!

Commissioned by @andie1223

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 5 -

“Stop squirming,” Linda ordered, and he tried again to stand still. “Everything is going to fine.”

She took a step back to inspect her handywork, then smiled.

“There. Your tie is perfect.”

He looked over her ensemble again, a plunging neckline, sparkling navy, and interminably high shoes. Shimmering diamonds glistened in her ears. Her hair was swept up in an updo. She looked absolutely gorgeous, but all Barry could think was that it was coming on too strong.

“Are you sure that is the dress you want to wear?”

Linda frowned and looked down at it. “Yes.” She looked up at him. “I want to show Scott what he’s missing.”

“Right. I get that. But um…”

“But what?”

“Well, it is still a work event.”

“It’s a gala, Barry Allen. Yes, Iris and I will be working the floor trying to snag quotes from people of importance, but there will be hors d'oeuvres and dancing and live music. I wouldn’t be surprised if Iris wears something just as daring.”

Barry felt his ears get hot. The image of a form-fitting dress with a plunging neckline and thigh-high hem made his pants tighten. It hadn’t been that long, but he already ached to get inside her. And it wouldn’t be long, if he was her fiancé. But he wasn’t. Which meant if Iris wore something daring, it would be for Eddie, and that made his blood boil.

“Hello!” Linda snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Barry?”

He blinked and looked down at her. “What?”

She shook her head at him.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Yeah, of course,” he lied through his teeth. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re a terrible liar and haven’t seen Iris in the – what has it been – two weeks since your fight?”

He frowned. “It wasn’t a fight,” he lied again.

She raised her eyebrows. “Whatever you say, Mr. Allen.”

She straightened his tie one more time, grabbed her clutch and started to head for the door. With a restrained sigh, Barry followed, only to be stopped in his tracks by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He frowned and fished it out, his eyes going wide when he saw who was calling him.

“Who is it?” Linda asked, and he saw she was staring at him a little impatiently when he looked up at her.

“It’s Iris,” he said and saw the look of panic cross her face as he raised the phone to his ear.

“No! No, no, no, no, Barry Allen, do not answer that phone! We have not talked about what you’d say if-”

“Hey, Iris,” he said into the phone, trying not to sound too excited as he swatted Linda’s following form away from him. He walked down the hall into the bathroom and shut the door, so he could continue the conversation in private.

“Hi, Barry,” came Iris’ smooth, soft voice. “Am I…Am I interrupting something? I thought I heard a voice in the background?”

“Hmm? Oh, that was nothing. Just a silly commercial. What’s up?”

He tensed when he heard the low scoff on the other end of the line.

“Iris?” he asked cautiously.

“What’s up? What’s up? Barry, what’s up is we got into a fight two weeks ago, and I haven’t heard from you since.” Her voice broke. “Do you really not want to be my friend anymore?”

Barry’s heart sank.

“Did you…Have you called me?”

He’d never have ignored one of her calls, even if he was in a mood when he last left her.

“No…I was expecting you to call me.”

He frowned. “What for?”

“To apologize!”

He felt tension building inside of him.

“For what? For not wanting to date someone else when I’m still in love with you?”

“Barry,” she warned.

“I’m not going to apologize for that. I can’t.”

“How about telling me flat out you don’t want to be my friend anymore, Barry? How about apologizing for that?”

“How can we be friends, Iris? Tell me. Your husband has more or less issued a restraining order on me. He suspects you’re cheating if we’re even in the same room together!”

She sighed, aggravated. “That’s why I suggested-”

“I don’t regret a single thing I did on your wedding day,” Barry said, even though he still couldn’t remember the event except with flashes here and there. “That kiss was worth risking everything.”

Silence filled the other end of the line.

“Look, I have to go. We can talk about this…some other time.”

“Barry-”

“Goodbye, Iris.”

He hung up the phone, took a couple deep breaths, washed his face and opened the door, only to find Linda standing there with her arms crossed and the look in her eyes all-knowing.

“I know…I know…” he started. “I shouldn’t have taken the call.”

She shook her head at him. “Tunnel vision. Completely.” She looked his miserable self over and appeared to relax. “You’re forgiven, obviously. Ready to go?”

He nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They made their way down the hall and out the door. Linda locked up and shut the door behind them.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked once they got outside and were in her car.

He shook his head. “You were right about one thing, though.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“It was a fight.”

She winced. “I’m sorry, Barry.”

“Not your fault.”

“No, but…I compared our situations as the same, and yours is definitely much worse.”

He shot her a glare as they got inside the car.

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

“You’re welcome,” she said, beaming as she started the car.

Looking for traffic and finding none, Linda turned onto the street.

“Jealous vibes, here we come.”

Barry leaned his head back in his seat and looked out the window.

“Here we come.”

…

The gala was a glittering spectacle if Barry had ever seen one. The hall was huge with high ceilings and subtle but tasteful decorations from an array of sparkling, little lights to blooming flowers perfectly placed around the room. The aroma of hors d'oevres and champagne filled the air, and the people gathering were all dressed to the nines.

“Still think I dressed out of place?” Linda teased beside him.

He managed to smirk as he looked her over again.

“No, I guess not.”

“Hey, look, there’s Iris!” she whisper-yelled to get Barry’s attention.

“Where?” he asked immediately.

“Over there. By the flowers on the far side.”

“But she’s alone.” He frowned. “You said she’d bring Eddie with her.”

Linda frowned too. “I thought she would.”

Standing away from everyone else in the corner, Iris looked spectacular but miserable. Her shoulders were slumped. She didn’t even head over to the table to get food or champagne. She had her recorder in her hand, but it almost looked like she couldn’t stomach to do her job tonight, even looking as amazing as she did.

Barry felt terrible.

“I really should not have taken that call.”

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s still a way to make it up to her.”

He scoffed and turned to look at Linda. “How?”

“When she sees the two of us dancing, she’ll connect the dots and think you decided to take her advice after all.”

“Not after that phone call, she won’t.”

Linda frowned. “Why? What did you say?”

“I…uh…” He shifted on his feet.

“Barry.”

“I may have told her again how I couldn’t date someone else while I was still in love with her.”

Linda shut her eyes and groaned inwardly.

“We really should have discussed phone calls at some point over the last two weeks.”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t, and now I’m a crappy friend whose made her night miserable.”

“I thought you weren’t friends at all. I thought you didn’t want to be.”

“Only because I want to be more than friends. I’ll never stop being her friend.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this…It could down right ruin everything, but…why don’t you tell her that?”

He ran a hand over his face.

“What about Scott? Aren’t we here to make him jealous too?”

“No worries,” she said proudly. “I’m going to make my interview rounds first and then do some flirting. I’m pretty good at that.”

“Linda, if he’s not interested, flirting will be a turn-off.”

“He was interested the last time I flirted. Maybe he will be this time too. And if that doesn’t work, you and I will be dancing before the end of the night. That’ll be something to keep his eyes on if he rejects me yet again.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Go. Iris isn’t going to have any success gathering her confidence for interviews until she’s dealt with what’s holding her back tonight. And that, my friend, is you.”

She patted his shoulder, went to get a glass of champagne and pulled out her recorder as she set off to mingle with the crowd.

Champagne isn’t a bad idea, Barry thought to himself. He went to the table and gathered two glasses before setting off to sneak behind Iris, who had yet to mingle herself with the people there.

“You look like you need a drink,” he whispered into her ear, not expecting her to jump or drop her recorder on the floor.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s quite all right. You’re probably right. I do need to-” She turned and looked at who’d been talking to her. “Barry?” Her jaw dropped and forcibly she shut it. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m with Linda.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry…what?”

“Linda Park, your co-worker.”

“I know who Linda is. I just got the impression you weren’t with anyone, let alone one of my co-workers.”

Was that a hint of jealousy he detected?

“Oh, I’m not with her, with her. Not like that, anyway. We bumped into each other a little while back, and she asked me if I’d be her plus one at this event. I didn’t have anything else going on, so I figured why not?”

“I see.”

“You’re suspicious.”

“Just intrigued.” She glanced at the drinks in his hands. “Is one of those still for me?”

“What?” He looked down. “Oh, yeah, of course. Here you go.” He handed one to her. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Despite herself, a little smile shone through.

“Thank you, Barry.”

Her drink was gone in less than a minute.

“I’m surprised you came over here,” she said.

He looked at her quizzically. “Why’s that?”

She was amused. “I was under the impression you wanted nothing to do with me.”

He sighed. “About that…”

She waited.

“I’m sorry, Iris, about tonight. I’ll always want to be your friend. I don’t want you to think I’m putting some sort of ultimatum on you. Not having you in my life at all? It’s impossible.”

The relief was obvious in the release of tension from her shoulders.

“Are you sure, Barry? That’s what you really want?”

“Well.” He downed his drink. “I can’t have what I really want.”

She swallowed.

“But if you can have what you want, and I can be a part of that, then yes, it’s what I want.”

She smiled tremulously. “Thank you, Barry.”

He took her empty glass from her hand and set it with his on a nearby table, then held his hand out to her. She frowned as she looked down at it, not understanding.

“Dance with me.”

The corner of her lips twitched.

“That doesn’t sound like a question.”

“Because it isn’t.” He held out his hand more dramatically. “Dance with me.”

She laughed lightly, and all remaining tension evaporated into thin air. She took his hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor. There were a few couples already dancing the waltz to the beautiful live orchestra playing on the far side of the room. Taking both of her hands now, Barry extended their arms with one set and held the other close.

“You remember?” he asked.

“From those ballroom classes my dad made us take in high school? Of course.”

“He said it was a necessity to life.”

“Guess we should be thanking him now.”

Iris smiled and moved with him as he drew them into their first wide circle.

“You remember too, I see.”

He smirked. “Of course. Too many lessons not to.”

She chuckled and swayed with him, silent for a long while, getting lost in the dance and then his eyes when she finally looked up.

“You look very handsome, Barry.”

“Linda fixed my tie several times.”

She looked amused. “I bet.”

“You bet? What’s that supposed to mean?” he teased.

She laughed. “You’ve never been particularly good at it.”

He faked a gasp. “I’m offended.”

She rolled her eyes, still smiling. “If you were offended, you wouldn’t still be here.”

“I’m not that offended.” He rolled his eyes.

She giggled, actually giggled, and he felt alive again. How could she not feel something between them? He thought. How could she not?

“Thanks for this, Barry. I really needed it. Especially after Eddie…” She trailed off.

“Why isn’t he here, Iris?” he asked softly.

She swallowed. “We got in a fight,” she said. “He didn’t want to come after that.”

“Did he catch you…on the phone with me?” he asked hesitantly.

“No.” She shook her head. “The fight was before that. I was calling you because…well…I needed my best friend.”

He wanted to kick himself.

“Iris, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“I know,” she said quickly. “Can we just forget about it and enjoy the night?”

“Don’t you have some interviews to get to? Linda said-”

“Yeah, I do. But I want to feel better first. Can you make me feel better, Barry?”

Staring deep into her eyes, he’d never wanted to kiss her so badly.

“I can make you feel better, Iris.”

The sound of the side door suddenly opening and slamming shut was a distant echo covered up by the orchestra’s crescendo into the second half of their majestic piece. Barry was none the wiser to it, and neither was Iris.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[theres-a-goldensky]

16 + 2 Reddie Fic Recs pt. 2

I’m back and still on my Bill Hader bullshit, so here’s another round of Reddie fic recs, because I can’t stop reading and sometimes sifting through the insane amounts of fic is a nightmare. So if you feel my pain and need some (at least in my opinion) fun stories, then come along with me on a magical journey filled with men crying during sex, hypochondria, and your mom jokes.

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

IT chapter 2 list part one - Reddie

Good Omens fic 

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

Various BL Series fic (fandoms: Love By Chance, TharnType, 2Moons series, My Engineer, Until We Meet Again, 2gether, History3: Trapped)

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

All my recs are completed, almost all of them are post-It chapter 2. * - denotes a favorite

1. I killed a clown. AMA! by liesmyth - ~10,000 words, teen - The history of Eddie and Myra’s marriage shown through their posts on reddit. The voices here are great, and it really feels like reading the reddit forums, down to the people sleuthing through their past posts and comments to try and figure out if what they’re saying is real or an elaborate troll.

 r/relationships

Posted by u/martymcfly6xo 7 months ago

 My (39F) husband (39M) likes horrible stand-up comedy. How can I stop him from bringing this up in front of our mutual friends?

For the last year or so my husband has been watching a lot of stand-up comedy on youtube. I want him to have something relaxing to do (he works a lot and gets really invested in his ‘hands-on’ hobbies in a way I’m not sure is good for him) but I was very puzzled by this discovery as he likes very crass acts and that is certainly not the kind of humor hubby usually enjoys...

2. all of the kids back home believing much more than you do by eatcheeseliveforever - ~11,000 words, explicit - This is a fix-it fic, which is becoming more and more rare in this fandom as we collectively started deciding that Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t need to be brought back to live, because he never died in the first place, dammit. It has some great pining by Richie. You can really feel his grief and desperation as he searches for a way to get Eddie back. The other Losers are great in this too, especially Mike with his whales.

"A boat, actually," murmured Mike.  "I'm on a whale-watching cruise."

Richie mouthed the words "whale watching cruise" to himself.  Empirically he knew such things existed, that they happened not far away from the coast where he lived, but it felt like several fucking galaxies away from where he was, surrounded by the ghosts of takeouts and blackouts past and the actual ghost-ghosts, who he couldn't step in or stub his toe on at three in the morning, but hurt so much worse.

"He said you've been googling resurrection rituals."

Richie scrounged through his pile of empties, hoping one wasn't.  "Bill talks too much."

"Richie."  A sigh, or a wave, or a really quiet whale.  "You're not going to find a resurrection ritual on Google."

"I've found hundreds," said Richie.  "Funny thing, though, they all seem to call for orgies.  Or virgin sacrifices.  Or sacrificing someone's virginity in an orgy.  I'm hoping Ben will volunteer as tribute."

3. * - you’ve got the answers to my confessions by QueerOnTilMorning - ~17,000 words, explicit - This is the good stuff right here. Richie accidentally sexts Eddie and Eddie is IN. TO. IT. This fic starts with excellent phone sex, there’s misunderstandings and confessions in the middle, and then it ends with super hot sex. There’s a brief part with karaoke that was a bit of a lull in the story, but doesn’t take away from how great the rest is.

     suck on ur tongue  

     show u how much I missd that mouth  

     when u start getting weak in the knees  

     thats when ill get on mine  

 He set the phone aside to unzip his pants, palming himself through his boxers, already half-hard.

 Then he froze.

 The text he had just replied to--it was what he'd expected Travis to say, but it wasn't how Travis would say it. That text began with a capital letter and contained punctuation. That text was from--

 "Oh, fuck, no," Richie whispered, and his phone rang.

 Incoming call: Eds

4. * -  L'Appel du Vide by Mackem - ~92,000 words, teen - I know, I know, almost 100k and no sex, but hear me out! The pining in this fic is so exquisitely beautiful and wrenching. Eddie’s POV is excellent and feels really spot on. The other Losers are well represented, especially Ben and Bev. In fact, the group dynamics here are almost as good as the relationship stuff. The later chapters bring in a subplot about the deadlights that I wasn’t that interested in, but it’s still done really, really well, and that’s only a side plot that doesn’t impact that exceptional story of Eddie and Richie figuring out how to stop being dummies.

Two messages, however, are from Stanley, sent to him privately. He opens them, and is met with a picture of Richie, apparently taken without him realising.

It shows him laughing, his eyes crinkled at the corners behind his glasses, and his smile bright and broad as a hand gestures wildly in the air. The other hand is in his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he tilts his head back, displaying the line of his throat beneath his stubble.

The breath is punched from Eddie at the sight of it.

He stares at it for a long moment, surprised by the depth of his reaction. His stomach is swirling happily, a bubble of excitement growing at the pit, and he cannot help but feel a heated flush build at his cheeks.

It’s probably just because Richie looks like he’s enjoying himself. It’s good to see his friend having fun. That has to be it.

Then he reads Stan’s message.

Stan: He was talking about you. He does that a lot.

5. my love a beacon in the night - by zach_stone - ~4500 words, explicit - Richie is on the road doing shows through Christmas. His friends have a surprise for him. I know it’s almost Valentine’s Day, but it’s never the wrong time for a fluffy Christmas story imo.

 “Yep, just got to my hotel,” Richie says. “Now I’m getting ready for my big Christmas Eve plans.”

 Eddie snorts. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

 “Well according to my TV guide, they’re doing a rerun of The Mistletoe Promise, so I’m all fuckin’ set,” Richie says, grinning when Eddie laughs. On Eddie’s end of the line, he hears the sound of cars passing by, the muffled chatter of people, and says, “Are you outside?”

 “Huh? Oh, yeah,” Eddie says.

 Richie glances at the clock on the nightstand. It’s after ten; Eddie’s not one to be wandering around Times Square after dark. He frowns slightly. Eddie’s been unusually vague about his holiday plans, so Richie has no clue what he’s up to this evening. Not that it’s any of his business. Maybe he’s started seeing someone and is spending the holidays with them. Richie has a sudden image of Eddie, arm-in-arm with some generically pretty woman, taking in the lights and decorations around the city. It opens a pit in his stomach.

6. Coming Back and Coming Out: Richie Tozier's 2019 by Lunatical - ~2000 words, teen - I genuinely adore the mixed media fics that this fandom has spawned. This one is an excerpt from a magazine interview with Richie as he restarts his career.

Slouched on his couch in a cheesy Hawaiian shirt and torn-up jeans, Richie Tozier looks exactly like the manchild he is describing himself to be. Next to him, sitting up straight and dressed in a lovely suit that most people would consider appropriate for an interview, his husband rolls his eyes.

When we scheduled this interview, Tozier insisted we hold it at their house, citing a desire for the interview to be “as chill as possible”—in his own words, of course. He argued that seeing the two of them in their usual environment would help me get a better idea of the kind of relationship they have. After walking into their apartment and seeing the way they’ve decorated the place, I have to admit that I can understand why.

7. baby, there’s no other superstar by kaspbrakziers - ~7000 words, mature - Another mixed media fic that shows the progression of Richie and Eddie’s relationship and Richie’s career through tweets, texts, and interviews. Eddie not knowing how to turn off the capslock on his phone absolutely sent me.

Search history

Today Sunday, 13 November 2016

should i get a divorce? - Google Search

Unhappily Married: Should I get a divorce? - Yahoo Answers

10 Signs Your Marriage Is Over - Buzzfeed

how to divorce? - Google Search

How To File For Divorce (With Pictures) - wikiHow

how to divorce someone without them getting angry? – Google Search

can you divorce someone without telling them? - Google Search

8. Goes on Trips for the Scenery by InkandOwl - ~4500 words, teen - Eddie dies and then comes back to life and tries to get some perspective. I liked the conversations between Eddie and Richie and then way that Eddie starts to take care of himself. The end is really sweet.

If cosmic power and a literal alien space clown’s death wasn’t going to bring him back to life, Eddie was certain that the terrible pain of hearing Richie beg, his tears dropping onto Eddie’s face, probably would’ve done it. He feels sick just thinking about it. About what it all means. “Yeah, Rich, I will.” He could throw a jab at him, tell him something about eating like an adult for once, but he wants to be easy with him right now. Richie deserves it. “You’ll text, right?”

Richie looks down at the prepaid cricket phone in Eddie’s hand and laughs, “There’s no fucking way that thing gets texts.”

“It does.” Eddie grins, “You could call too.”

The fight drains from Richie, his shoulder slumping and he sighs, “Yeah, Eds, I’ll call.”

9. cause i'm about to blow that back out by thotgreeves - ~5000 words, explicit - Here, have some porn. Eddie wears lingerie and Richie loses his goddamn mind. Features submissive top Richie and his unending boner for Eddie.

Richie really should have learnt to never underestimate Eddie Kaspbrak by now. It had come close to killing Richie once, but Eddie might actually be trying to finish him off.

Because the other perk of always letting Eddie go ahead of him was that it gave Richie a prime view of Eddie's ass. Eddie knew about this part and was okay with it. He was wearing a high-waisted pair of slacks that Richie was pretty sure came from the women's section, slightly loose in the legs but nicely filled out by his ass. Richie had been very vocal in the past about how hot they got him, which signaled that Eddie definitely wanted to have sex tonight, and that was already enough to make Richie's dick twitch in excitement. He hadn't been prepared for the finishing blow.

Richie's eyes were fixed, pendulum-like, on how Eddie's slacks were hugging his butt perfectly with every step he took, tight enough to show off the outline of his underwear. Only the folds didn't sit where Richie had expected them to. Instead, Richie realized, his mouth going dry, that in the absence of boxers, there was only a V-shaped crease running from Eddie's hips to between his asscheeks, which could only mean-

Eddie was wearing a thong.

10. * - I’ll Be Homo For Christmas by Amuly - ~15,000 words, explicit - Bill and Audra get a divorce, so Bill moves into Richie’s house with him. Eddie, watching all of this from New York, where he’s still married to Myra, is super, super ok and fine with it in every way.

Except then Richie started posting.

Just stupid shit, mostly with Bill. It wasn’t even real. Eddie knew Bill wasn’t gay and him and Richie were just fucking around ‘for the ‘gram!’ But the more posts Eddie scrolled past on Richie’s Instagram—

 Bill in the kitchen swatting at Richie with a spatula.

 Richie and Bill at the pound, Richie rating dogs on adoptability, Richie begging Bill to adopt a dog with him.

 Richie in the morning with bedhead, smiling blearily into the camera as Bill…

Well. Eddie couldn’t even remember what stupid thing Bill was supposed to be doing in the background of that photo because his eyes couldn’t get past Richie’s bedhead and shirtless torso, chest hairs creeping up towards his collarbones and the little dip at the base of his throat.

Eddie hadn’t thought he was homophobic. But he must have some unresolved issues with it, because he got a stomachache every time he looked at that photo of Richie. Eddie popped a Tums and resolved to talk about it with his therapist.

11. A High-Five is a Hug You Can Hit by Amuly - ~26,000 words, explicit - This fic shows us times throughout their friendship when Eddie and Richie would invent reasons to touch each other without even knowing why. This author feels the same bone deep conviction about Richie crying during sex that I do, and I greatly appreciate that. Plus, all of their stories are fantastic, including this one.

“You know, one of the symptoms of hypothermia is feeling like you’re warm. So like, your body gets so cold that it gets hot, and then you start taking off your clothes-”

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Eddie?” Richie shot back at him without turning around.

“Why don’t you ask your sister how much she liked it last week!” Eddie hollered up at him. Richie just flipped him off without looking. That kinda… bugged Eddie. What the fuck did Richie think he was doing leading up the group with Bill? Why was he stuck back here with Stan? Eddie glanced over at Stan, who was trudging tiredly through the woods alongside him, breath puffing out in little clouds of smoke.

“Okay, Stan?”

Stan glanced over at him, confused. Then he shrugged. “Yeah, fine. Cold.”

“Well that’s better than feeling warm.” And now Eddie was back on track. “Because, if anyone starts feeling warm, they should tell the others immediately. That’s a sign of hypothermia. And we have to warm you up. But you have to do it gradually, you can’t just jump in like, a pot of boiling water-”

12. * - fall apart of stay intact by kaspbrak_kid - ~19,000 words, teen - A more melancholy take on the Christmas fic. This story takes Richie’s self-esteem issues and mental problems and amps them up in a way that feels entirely realistic. The gang comes together to celebrate Christmas, and everyone is walking on eggshells because last Christmas was a bad one for Richie. Also, Eddie moves into the house literally right next to Richie’s, and I find that detail endlessly charming.

“Five minutes ago. I called you, and you didn’t answer. Because you were outside, apparently, fucking...stargazing in December! With no hat on!”

“It’s about the Vitamin D!” Richie says. Now that he’s moved a little, he can really feel the cold—his ears are aching, and his face is numb. “Reflecting off the moon, or something. I have seasonal depression, you know!”

“You have seasonal stupidity,” Eddie mutters, audibly rubbing his hands together. “Just get inside.”

“Yours or mine?” Richie jokes.

Eddie doesn’t get the memo. “Mine, obviously. I’ll make you hot chocolate.”

“Oh,” Richie says, and sits up. “Um. Okay, be right there.”

“Oh, thank god,” Eddie says, and hightails it to his back door, cursing about the cold.

13. evidence of a happier future by lagaudiere - 23,000 words, mature - I am here, leading the Jealous!Eddie revolution. Why aren’t there more fics about this. Have you SEEN Eddie Kaspbrak, can you IMAGINE him jealous? Make this happen, fandom. Anyway, in this one, Richie has a boyfriend back in LA. Eddie has trouble dealing with that as he tries to figure himself out and pick up the pieces of his life post-Derry.

“It’s not gonna be like Mike’s announcement, don’t worry,” Richie says hastily. “And it’s not like, a huge thing, so don’t make it a huge thing. But you guys are like, my best friends, and I just wanted you to know that I’m, uh. Gay.”

He turns up his palms and raises his eyebrows in a gesture that suggests a magician presenting his audience with an empty hat after making the rabbit disappear, and Eddie says, “Are you joking?”

“What? Jesus, no, Eddie.” Richie’s face falls, and Eddie instantly feels guilty. “I’m trying to be sincere here.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says immediately, feeling all of their friends looking at him with reproach. “I was just — if you weren’t, I wouldn’t think you should… joke about it.”

“Well, I am,” Richie says. He sounds slightly put out — and who wouldn’t be, Eddie scolds himself, by that ridiculous response. “I have all the gay credientials. I have a boyfriend, partner, whatever people say. I don’t really tell people because of the whole, stage persona, thing. But yeah.”

“Richie!” Bev’s voice breaks through the awkwardness, and she reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thank you for telling us. Really.”

And the others all join in, a chorus of voices telling Richie they love him and they’re proud of him, and Ben is saying, “I wanna see a picture of the guy!” and Eddie’s throat feels like it’s closing up.

14. The ‘Do Not Fucking Touch Me’ Tour by MellytheHun - ~23,000 words, explicit - It’s Richie’s comeback special, and he makes it a big one. This...isn’t really a comedy show, but the author lampshades that. It’s an excuse to have Richie talk about how much he loves each of his friends individually, and it’s extremely entertaining. Richie doesn’t know that Eddie is in the audience watching it all.

“Hey, uhm… Eddie… he couldn’t reschedule his thing? He - I mean... it… it was really that important?”

She feels awful for him immediately, but not wanting to spoil what would ultimately be a lovely surprise, she tells him, “I’m sorry, Rich. He said it was urgent. He was really sorry about it.”

Her phone buzzes with a text from Eddie right as Richie curses under his breath, missing the noise. She clutches her phone more tightly in her fist, knowing Eddie is wondering where his seat is going to be; she bought him a separate ticket, elsewhere in the theatre, so Richie wouldn’t catch him sitting among them, as he will absolutely, inevitably look over to the Losers for most of the show.

“Okay,” Richie surrenders sadly, “Uh - I guess he’ll see it eventually, right?”

Smiling forlornly at him, she pats his arm, and tells him, “don’t worry, Richie. Your genius will inevitably be forced upon us all.”

He smiles at her, gives her a kiss on the cheek, and when Bill jokingly asks why he didn’t get one, Richie flips him off, and reminds them to treat themselves to the bar in the lobby.

Once he’s backstage, Beverly takes her phone out, and emails Eddie his ticket, explains that she’s already convinced Richie he’s not coming, and to make sure he doesn’t show up too early, or Richie will notice.

15. The List by cissues - ~7000 words, teen - Eddie finds a list he wrote as a teenager. Richie tries his best to fulfill them all. This is very sweet.

‘ All the things I want. Everything I’m not allowed to have. A perfect summer. ”

The words hit gentler than he thought they would, but they still hit and he finds himself blinking away at a wetness at the corner of his eye. He wipes at it and sniffles and Richie peers sidelong at him to make sure he’s okay. He is, he’s fine, and Richie never dotes on him when things are, generally, okay. Only when he needs it, which is one of the many things he loves about what they have now.

“This is… this is like a fucking  bucket list  for the most repressed child in the world.” Richie says, breathless.

Eddie rolls his eyes to hide the sting. “You’re looking at him,” he says, bitter. Richie frowns at him but turns back to the paper. Another thing Eddie loves, Richie never takes his trauma-induced bait. His knee-jerk reactions developed over years of what he’s now comfortable enough to call abuse.

16. Richie Tozier Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions by DeadpanMage - ~2000 words, teen - This is a short one, but the transcript of this popular YT video format with Richie felt spot on in terms of characterization and Richie’s voice.

[Back to the text screen: “So WIRED asked Richie Tozier some of the internet’s burning questions.” Cut back to Richie, now holding a poster board with several Google autocomplete searches half covered.]

Richie: I’ve undergone something of a rebranding in the past year, so I wonder how many of these questions are going to be super irrelevant-slash-embarrassing. Probably all of them. Let’s get started! [He tears the covering off of the first question.] Alright, that’s not bad. “How to pronounce Richie Tozier?” Well, we’re only on question one and I’ve already said it like a hundred times so there you go. And that’s “Richie Tozier” spelled J-O-H-N M-U-L-A-N-E-Y, so if you’ve got any complaints be sure to send them that way. Next question!

You can check out a larger list of stories I’ve enjoyed in my AO3 bookmarks. And finally, if you’re interested, here are the two fics I’ve written:

1. Waiting For a Sign - ~6000 words, explicit - Eddie meets Richie again and comes to the startling realization that he totally wants to hit that.

Maybe if Richie wasn’t famous, Eddie could have found a way to let it go. A couple furtive jerk off sessions in the shower after he got back to New York and the image of Richie’s big hands and wide smile and improbably flattering stubble would fade from his mind.

But Richie was famous, and the internet never forgot.

Eddie lasted three days before giving in and typing ‘Richie Tozier’ into the YouTube search bar. Just seeing Richie in the thumbnails was enough to make Eddie’s heart thud, what the fuck. He had to scroll past a bunch of news videos about Richie's supposed mental breakdown, but after that he landed on some old stand-up.

Before he clicked on the first video, he got up and made sure that the door of his study was locked. Then he turned off the lights and put on a pair of earbuds.

Fake It ‘Til You Make It - ~21,000 words, explicit - It’s that totally relatable situation where the man you’re secretly in love with is a celebrity who just came out and now needs a fake boyfriend to keep himself in the spotlight. Eddie offers to help out of the goodness of his heart and not because he’s insanely fucking jealous.

Eddie froze, breath catching in his throat.

Richie looked...really good.

Bev’s influence was obvious. His hair, which had been unkempt and shaggy, a perfect match for his stoner permakid schtick, was cut much shorter and neater. His formerly unruly stubble somehow now emphasized the sharp cut of his jaw instead of obscuring it.

He wore new glasses, Eddie noticed. Slim silver metal frames instead of his giant, clunky plastic ones. The fitted black sweater and dark blue jeans were simple, but made his shoulders look impossibly broad and his legs miles long.

Fuck everything and Beverly Marsh in particular.

LINK TO MY FIRST SET OF REDDIE RECS 30+ FICS

[writhingcreature]

Prompt 2 - Bichie

"Bichie with the song Class Fight (Melanie Martinez)" requested by @satan-again (thanks for all the requests! They're coming :D)

It was actual torture.

Have such strong feelings for one of your best friends was one thing, but it only got worse having to see said friend waltz around with someone who wasn't even interested in him.

Richie Tozier was smiling once again, his eyes trained on Mark Tonner - a closeted jackass who was being unfair to Richie in every way. Mark and Richie had been dating for three months now, and it was still only the Losers who knew. Mark went around telling people that after they'd gotten stuck on. Project together, Richie had developed a crush on him and he was too nice to tell him to go away. In reality, they'd done anything but study and ever since, Mark had been leading Richie on even though he wasn't planning on keeping the relationship going long term. Every Loser knew it, and had tried to tell Richie in their own way, but the Trashmouth always defended Mark and then got mad at them when they pushed too far.

Along with this bit of drama came Bill, who had long since realized he liked Richie, but had been unsure what to do about it. It had been a long process, setting off when he and Richie had had their first sleepover without the others. They'd gone drinking and then went back to Bill's, staying up almost the whole rest of the night talking... and then Richie had kissed Bill. It had taken the blonde by surprise, but what got him most was that he was thrilled by the experience. Richie laughed it off and then hurriedly went to bed. It seemed that he'd drinken too much because in the morning he went on and on about how he had no idea what had happened the previous night, and went on to ask Bill about every detail.

Unsure of himself, Bill had left the kiss out of the recall.

It had taken him months to make sense of the situation and his own feelings about it. Finally he'd gotten it sorted after each of the Losers realized Bill's feelings and then confronted him. He finally told them what had happened and they'd helped him sort his thoughts and get up the courage to ask Richie out... just in time for Richie to show up at school the next day, talking excitedly about the night he'd spent with Mark and how amazing he was in bed- so on and so forth until Bill got up and walked away because he was about to be sick.

Now they were all hanging out together, and Richie had brought Mark.

It was crossing a line in some way. At school Mark talked shit behind Richie's back and then smiled to his face- but only in private. Around the Losers, he was a whole different person. It almost made Bill happy to see Richie with someone else. After all, if he was happy and loved, who mattered who was loving him and making him happy? Mike was cuddly and laughed at every one of Richie's jokes. His gaze was softer than when he looked at Richie while at school. He talked fondly, and had no problem acting just like Richie's boyfriend.

But then, if Mark loved Richie like Bill loved Richie, why was he so ashamed at school?

I mean, people were homophobic and had bullied Stan for Mike - it had gotten pretty bad a few times back in Derry, but they weren't in Derry anymore - but that was in highschool, and the people in college were much more chill. Plus, Mike went too far trying to make it clear to them that he and Richie weren't a thing. He'd talked so badly of Richie, no matter who called him out of it or stood up for Richie. It was like he was being especially mean to make up for all the softness he showed to the boy he was so ashamed of liking- and he succeeded. To Bill, this back and forth wasn't enough. It didn't make up for the nastiness. They equalized, canceling each other out.

Bill could treat him so much better.

Richie deserved so much better.

Bill could treat Richie how he should be treated. He could be just as passionate a lover and also hold him close in public and stand up to dicks like Mark who were too eager to share their poisoned words and unecessary opinions. Bill could be everything Richie needed and wanted. He just knew it.

"Bill?" The blonde's attention snapped over to see a concerned Beverly, who's green eyes were wide and tainted an almost purple by the lighting in the party.

"Sorry, what?" Bill asked, realizing he was glaring and tense and that his hands had curled into fists. He tried to relax himself and soften his expression, but he couldn't quite do it. Before he'd been trying to burn a hole inbetween Mark's eyes, but no one else deserved to be glared at like that. Especially not Bev.

She smiled a little- partly worried and partly amused. "You're doing it again. Do you ever hear anything I say when Mark's around? It was bad enough that you're so distracted with Richie around, but now there are two people who hold your attention above anything else?"

Her teases fell on an already bitter mind, rubbing salt in a wound she didn't know was there. His efforts to lighten up fell flat. "I hate him, Bev."

"We all do," Eddie groaned, rolling his eyes. Ben nodded, leaning closer to Bev. He had his arm over her chair and had intially meant to recoil away from Mark - far was never far enough, in all their opinions - but that had brought him closer to Bev, so he just kept leaning until she was securely tucked under his arm.

Mike was suddenly at the table, his arm around Stan's waist, the two boys grinning as they leaned into each other. Mike had gotten Stan to enjoy parties a lot more, and it was a great sight to see. "Hey, where's Richie?" Stan asked, his eyes narrowing in tired confusion.

"He's-" Bill cut off as his eyes moved to where Richie and Mark had been just a few moments before. He took a second to look around, but no luck. Richie wasn't in sight. If he was, Bill would have seen him. "I don't know." His expression turned sour. "Probably off fucking that piece of-"

Ben cleared his throat. "Be nice." Despite how much they all disliked Mark, it seemed that he was slowly getting better, and they didn't want to hurt Richie by being mean to Mike either. If anything happened, they would end Mike, but for now... Well, Richie was an adult. They could only sit back and be there for him when he needed them.

Bill rolled his eyes. "Mark," he finished.

Stan snorted. He was probably the only one that hated Mark as much as Bill did. Richie was his best friend, and seeing Richie in a situation that could turn south so easily made him just as anxious and bitter about it. No one got to hurt any of his friends, but especially not Richie. He might be an idiot, but he deserved better than that.

As if to punctuate the dark waves coming off of Bill at the mention of Mark's name - especially coming from his own mouth - the very air changed. Like a light switch flicking on, suddenly Ben and Mike tightened their arms around their partners. Eddie went stiff and Bill and Stan locked eyes.

Something was wrong.

The second after they silently established the mutual feeling, there was yelling.

Bill was on his feet and taking off like a bullet, even before anyone else could do anything, too relaxed by the previously unwinding party atmosphere. He followed the voices that carried over even the loud music and the partying people, and was surprised that he went as far as he did. When he opened the door, the sight made him instantly set on fire with that burning wrath from earlier.

It was easy to pick out Mark and three of Mark's friends from school. It was even easier to find Richie, who was in the middle of the kind of circle the four other boys had made. Mark had a strained look of disgust on his face, his three friends being the sorce of the yelling. Two of them were laughing like hyenas, encouraging the third, whose twisted expression and hazy eyes were turned on Richie. Richie kept looking between him and Mark, drifting towards who would have been his boyfriend but also suddenly very unsure of himself.

"GOD, can't you get a life?" The loud one was saying. "He's not INTO YOU, you idiot!" The other two laughed and Richie looked at Mark, who was suddenly far too focused on one of the laughing boys next to him. "What will it take for you to get a hint?" And the loud one shoved Richie. The Trashmouth's back slammed into the counter behind him and he grunted, his face flickering with pain.

Mark didn't move.

Richie's face changed. It darkened and his eyes watered. He glared daggers at the one who had seemed to have been insulting and tearing at Richie for a while now. "You know you talk really loudly. Not as loud as I made your mom scream last night though."

Bill almost smiled.

The loud mouthed dick did not.

"Why you little-" The boy pulled back his arm and Richie flinched back, his hands flying up to block his face.

"HEY!" Bill screamed. The room went suddenly far too quiet as the four people all looked over at the blonde that hadn't been there just a little while before. Just in time for the big one to look at him, Bill planted his fist in his face. He went down like he'd been hit with a rock, crumpling to the ground and hitting his head hard on the tile. His body went limp. Bill was breatjing very heavily, turning his twisted expression and while knuckled fists toward the other two assholes. "Get. Out." One of them zipped out the door, the other stopping only to pick up the knocked out idiot off the ground and haul him out.

Bill turned to Mark. "Hey, thanks for-" Mark had completely changed, a look of relief and appreciation where his forced hate for Richie had been before. Bill wasn't having any of it. Just as suddenly and unexpectedly as the first time he'd done it, he punched Mark. Not as drunk or as distracted as the first guy, Mark took it a little better, but not well enough.

Richie gasped, the sound cut off and mangled as if he was choking on the breath. He didn't move to stop Bill, though. "YOU!" Bill screeched. He shoved Mark and this time the boy landed on his back, the breath knocking out of him as he tried to get his bearings. For some reason he seemed to have fully not expected Bill to lash out at him. Bill got on top of him, pinning his arms down with his knees. He hit him again, his vision going red. "You! You talking about Richie like that behind his back because you're such a coward you can't stand up for someone you like. You, who walks around like you're the best boyfriend when you won't even claim the title. You, who smiles at Richie's friends - his FAMILY - like you're one of us, and then just STANDS THERE while your idiot buddies treat him like that!" Every once in a while he enunciated his point with some kind of impact. A knee digging into Mark's arm. His fist planting in his gut. His elbow slamming into Mark's legs as the pinned man tried to get out of Bill's grip. "You don't deserve him!" Bill continued, raging at this point, spit flying out of his mouth. "YOU DON'T DESERVE HIM!"

"Bill stop!" He froze at the sound of Richie's voice, looking over to see his crush who's eyes were wide with horror.

Oh god. Oh god no. Richie couldn't look at him like that. Like Richie was afraid of him.

Bill stood. "You're going to defend him?" He was still so angry, and the look on Richie's face as he just let Mark walk all over him was too much to bear.

"I just-" Richie began.

"You just what?" Bill demanded, getting in Richie's face.

"I LOVE HIM!!" He screeched. There was a hitch to the words, a false note to what he was saying. Bill didn't pick up on it.

Instead, he looked at Richie like he'd been slapped. "You- you what?" His voice was suddeny soft and weak. He'd gotten really good at controlling his stutter, especially when he was passionate and facing emotion instead of running from something. This, though... this broke him.

"I-" But Richie couldn't say it again. He didn't know why he'd said it the first time. Mainly to get Bill to back off of him. He didn't want to see anyone beat to a pulp- not even the asshole who he'd finally seen the true colors of. "You're not the one who gets to decide who deserves me."

"Yes I am," Bill snapped immediately.

"No you're not!" Richie was getting angry now too, his own confusing emotions battling to make sense in his head and in his heart. He shoved Bill, who's hands had loosened but were now curling up again. "Why the fuck would you ever think YOU are allowed to determined that?"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!" Bill screamed, shoving Richie back. "If ANYONE should be determining who's good and bad for you, it's me! You're too wreckless, especially when it comes to yourself. And who else has your best interest in heart as much as I do?" He paused. "E-except Stan, but like-" He shook his head. "I JUST WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY, GODDAMNIT!" He grabbed Richie's face, shaking his head just slightly, trying to enunicate his point.

The boys paused. They both breathed heavily, Mark still on the ground but long forgotten. Mark hadn't passed out but he was in bad shape and was staying still in hopes they'd just leave him alone, or that he'd find an opening to escape. As Richie and Bill's breaths mixed in the still too-loud air polluted with the muffled music and partiers outside, Mark saw it. He got up and bolted, slamming into the door and taking off as fast as he could manage.

Bill almost went after him. His eyes zeroed in on the person he hated most and he jerked away from Richie to chase, but Richie caught his wrist and pulled him back. When Bill turned, his rushing blood that had started up the adrenaline again to get him enough energy to chase down Mark shifted so that instead of stopping where Richie's pull would have taken him, he kept going.

Their lips smashed together, Bill's hands wrapping eagerly around the back of Richie's head to pull him in even closer. The kiss was hot and the music and lights became background as they pulled eachother as close as possible.

When they parted, their eyes found each other, both breathless and shocked.

"Do you remember the kiss from when we got drunk?" It was the firs thing Richie managed to say, and it was soft and rushed.

Bill looked at him like he was insane. "You're thinking about that now?"

Richie shook his head, irritated. "Do you?" He demanded.

"Yes!" Bill hissed, getting more confused. "Of course I do- I remembered everyting else, didn't I?"

Richie searched his eyes a second before pulling him in for another kiss. He pulled away again. "I thought you forgot. Or that you didn't like it. And that that's why you didn't mention it. So, I tried t move on and-"

Bill cut him off by kissing him again. He wa sstarving and Richie was his favorite food, and he couldn't get enough. Luckily, Richie was just as eager to have as much of Bill as he was allowed.

It was chaos, and so much had just happened and nothing made sense. Nothing except them, right here, in this moment, together. Nothing but the way their lips felt and the way their hands found each other and the way the world seemed to become more vibrant and loud and real and they felt more alive and everything became almost too much.

It would be chaos later, and there was still some things to figure out, but... for now, it didn't matter.

[jobsearchtips02]

Why SpaceX keeps sending out a senior executive to a tiny Texas beach town

This story requires our BI Prime subscription. To check out the complete short article,. just click here to declare your deal and get access to all unique Business Expert PRIME material.

SpaceX, the rocket business established by Elon Musk, is attempting to construct a personal spaceport in Boca Chica at the southern suggestion of Texas and one day launch missions to Mars from the website utilizing a system called Starship.

A senior executive at SpaceX is visiting holdout property owners in individual to attempt and convince them to sell to the rocket company.

It’s not every day that a senior authorities at SpaceX calls you up, asks you to offer your home to the rocket company founded by the tech entrepreneur Elon Musk, and explains that your property may one day become part of a Mars spaceport.

But that call just recently came for Maria Tip, who lives full time with her spouse, Ray, in Boca Chica: a lobe of coastal prairie at the southern tip of Texas that’s remote and abundant with wildlife. The Guidelines live nearby to a formerly quiet hamlet of numerous lots homes that residents call Boca Chica Town. The nearby inhabited area is Brownsville, which is a 30- minute drive west and where approximately half the population lives below the poverty line.

When Maria Guideline took SpaceX’s call on January 7, the official she talked to was Dave Finlay, the business’s senior director of financing and now, apparently, South Texas real-estate dealmaker. She stated their conversation lasted about two hours.

His overture came after years of relative silence from SpaceX and in the middle of disquieting uncertainty the Pointers felt about their future. The couple told Company Expert they had actually planned to grow old and die in their customized house– however SpaceX’s arrival in September 2014 put a giant question mark on everything. Should they remain? Should they go? Should they spend cash to improve their property or perhaps make repair work?

Finlay sugarcoated nothing about the danger of trying to cling to Boca Chica, Maria Pointer stated, including that he addressed years’ worth of bottled-up questions, fears, and aggravations. After the call with Finlay, she felt relieved– and later on chose it was time to leave.

” He’s a real pleasant guy who has actually enlightened all of us,” she stated of Finlay. “The minute he began shining a light on things, I began having closure.”

Finlay didn’t stop with call, however. Every other week or two, from January through February, he has actually traveled about 1,400 miles to the area from SpaceX’s headquarters in Hawthorne, California, frequently for days, to knock on the doors of residents and make personal sees.

Finlay’s objective is not to make friends. Rather, it is to encourage everyone to accept a buyout deal that SpaceX drifted to location property owners in September– which lots of had not consented to months later on– prior to Musk “loses his patience,” Finlay told several locals.

Finlay’s method seems working. According to Company Expert’s reporting, more than half of the remaining homes in Boca Chica have actually now sold to SpaceX, including the Pointers’, or are near to or in closing. The rest are in other phases of dealmaking.

Key to transforming some citizens has actually been listening to them about, and even owning up to, mistakes of the past.

” They truly require these houses. They’re being very absurd,” one resident who just recently sold to SpaceX said. “As smart as they have to do with technological stuff, they’re not wise about individuals.”

The local, whose identity Service Insider verified, spoke on the condition of privacy to keep their personal privacy.

Life in SpaceX’s ‘corporate shadow’

Satellite-tracking antennas in South Texas.

Dave Mosher/Business Insider

Turning Boca Chica into a personal spaceport was an imagine Musk’s as early as2011 That’s when he had SpaceX workers call the workplace of then-Texas Gov. Rick Perry about introducing a lots commercial satellite missions a year from the site. Not long afterward, according to The Dallas Morning News, Musk met authorities from the state and Cameron County, where Boca Chica is, and promoted incentives to bring SpaceX there.

The Tips and a number of their next-door neighbors questioned the business would in fact land in Boca Chica when news about SpaceX’s interest broke in April 2012 There seemed to be far more suitable areas dad north in Texas– ones without a cluster of senior citizens spending time– they said, along with in Georgia, Puerto Rico, Florida, and a number of other places SpaceX was hunting.

However in Texas, SpaceX spent hundreds of countless dollars in lobbying, contributed tens of thousands of dollars to key authorities’ projects, and even paid for politicians to visit its headquarters, according to The Dallas Early Morning News.

Government officials eventually approved a bundle worth $15 million in tax breaks and job-creation rewards in2013 SpaceX then won federal, state, and regional approval in July 2014 to build a spaceport. The rocket company finally broke ground in September 2014.

” At the extremely, really starting, I saw surveyors outside our windows. I thought, ‘Oh god, individuals here are going to burn me on a cross if I’m not with SpaceX,'” Maria Pointer stated. Therefore began what she has consistently explained over the years as the beginning of “life in a business shadow” or a “business footprint.”

The company’s existence broadened quickly. SpaceX bulldozed lawns and cacti next to the Pointers’ home to set up a busy barbwire-fenced work yard. The business also trucked in adequate dirt to bury an American football field 13 stories deep and dumped it atop squishy soil near Boca Chica Beach to assist compact it into a launchpad structure. A couple of homes SpaceX acquired early on became workshops, storage websites, and shipment centers. Towering spacecraft-tracking antennas from NASA’s old space-shuttle program settled in next to an old corner store.

SpaceX may have used to purchase the town early on, however that did not take place– locals state they connected with few if any deals at that time.

” They do not approach you, you approach them,” a resident informed Company Expert in2019 Celia Johnson, a Brownsville native and Boca Chica homeowner since 1992, said she provided to sell her rental house to SpaceX a couple of years ago for about $150,000 but the company decreased.

In 2015, some in the town tried to open a dialog by asking SpaceX to hold private conferences.

However SpaceX rocket failures in 2015 and 2016, along with weaker-than-expected need for the company’s Falcon 9 and Falcon Heavy launchers– which were expected to fly industrial objectives monthly from Boca Chica– ground launch-site development almost to a halt.

” They did not like to answer any questions,” Sam Clauson informed Organisation Expert in April, when he was still a part-time citizen.

Starhopper’s final launch on August27

Elon Musk/SpaceX; Twitter SpaceX-owned homes became crash pads for employees, and the company even turned one into a recreation center with a bar, the confidential local said.

Cameron County ultimately started closing off areas of Highway 4– the only roadway out to Boca Chica– to permit SpaceX to move devices and conduct rocket tests.

Today, advancement work continues to speed up as Musk invests more time in Boca Chica to oversee SpaceX’s advancement of the Starship launch system, upon which the business’s future success may hinge.

” We can’t sleep anymore.

In The Middle Of all of this work, SpaceX’s attitude to the town shifted, changing from relative silence into a seemingly generous plea for everybody to offer their houses in the name of safety– and to do it rapidly.

On September 12, the business sent out every house owner in the hamlet a buyout deal letter via the real-estate firm Jones Lang LaSalle, or JLL. Many bristled at the offer’s preliminary two-week deadline (which was later on relaxed). The offer offered 3 times a base appraisal, some homeowners explained the appraisal as a “lowball” and “bulls–.” And even with a three-times deal, according to nearly all the homeowners we spoke to, the funds wouldn’t compensate for “a like residential or commercial property” in a likewise remote low-tax location within a stone’s toss of an undeveloped and beautiful public beach.

So 2 weeks later on, while Musk remained in town to present progress on Starship, the CEO met with villagers throughout a quick and “awkward” conference Guests said the group “made it clear we were not delighted” and didn’t “play nice” with the billionaire CEO.

That meeting brought something of a turning point, though: Musk stated that while the three-times figure was nonnegotiable, the base appraisal worth was undoubtedly versatile. This encouraged some citizens to offer in the following months as they discovered methods with JLL to increase the on-paper worth of their properties.

However, as numerous as 15 property owners had their independent appraisals rejected. And as the weeks wore on with slow momentum on sales, numerous villagers burnt out of dealing with JLL and requested to work straight with SpaceX.

The rocket business dispatched Finlay to coax villagers to turn over their secrets before the county might attempt some legal remedy to require them out. (Company Expert asked for an interview with County Judge Eddie Treviño Jr., however his workplace said the judge was traveling for work and unavailable to talk to till mid-February.)

‘ My objective is to provide any assistance that I can’

Weems Roadway is the primary path through Boca Chica Town, Texas, and was unpaved till SpaceX showed up.

Dave Mosher/Business Insider

Finlay appears an odd choice for the job based on his LinkedIn profile

However SpaceX decided on the individual for the task, Musk desired everyone gone by March 31, citizens said representatives from both JLL and SpaceX told them.

Finlay started outreach to residents as soon as December, beginning with those who had reached an impasse in negotiations with JLL.

” I operate at SpaceX in California and would truly value the chance to go over the SpaceX offer to acquire your property,” Finlay told a local in an e-mail sent the morning of January 3. “My goal is to offer any assistance that I can.”

The resident responded that SpaceX’s deal “would not even come close to permitting us to acquire another property anywhere else close sufficient to the beach for us.”

In his reaction two days later on, Finlay took a conciliatory tone.

” I am really happy to work with you to fix any error in your evaluated worth that drives the $ quantity of the purchase offer,” he wrote. “My objective is to make it as precise as possible and if any errors were made we will repair them. I will be in the Town all the time on Monday must you want to fulfill personally– I ‘d like to check out any opportunities I may have to help you.”

A model of SpaceX’s Starship envisioned behind a home in Boca Chica Town on September28

Loren Elliott/Getty Images

Finlay physically showed up on January 13 to walk the neighborhood. He spent hours that week with some locals, like the Tips, and returned in following weeks to pick up where he left off and work on other holdouts.

” Finlay was a reprieve, the last resort that provided us any kind of voice,” Maria Guideline stated, adding that Finlay asked forgiveness for the tension caused to her and her other half over the years by the company’s presence.

Dave Cohen is another (now-former) homeowner who offered after being approached directly by Finlay.

” I found Dave Finlay a satisfaction to talk to.

According to Service Insider’s reporting, citizens have actually been paid near to $100,000 on the low end to more than $1 million for their residential or commercial properties on the high end. Both Maria and Ray Tip said they’ve ended up being fans of what Musk and SpaceX are doing and wish to leave however that getting retiree-age people like themselves out of the way is “harder than throwing cash at the issue.”

” We have actually got to find a home, relocation, get surgery, and relative pass away in the middle of all this,” Maria said, describing the passing of her previous husband and the dad of her kids in 2019.

Johnson expressed comparable thoughts but said she still questioned what SpaceX was thinking by picking the town location for its main office.

” It’s not that I do not like development or SpaceX, either. It’s just that there’s hundreds and hundreds and numerous acres here,” Johnson said. “Why they picked our area to build whatever is beyond me.”

The confidential local stated Finlay even hired a real-estate agent to help one household discover a “like” house in another part of Texas.

Whatever SpaceX decides to do, however, the company may quickly discover itself in a bind: Some homeowners told Organisation Expert that they no longer answered Finlay’s calls, texts, or e-mails.

The citizen stated her household had “no interest” in selling to SpaceX– not even for millions of dollars– and added that she was prepared to go to court over their house.

Do you have a story to share about the spaceflight industry?

ENJOY: Why SpaceX is attempting to buy out a little Texas town

More:

SpaceX Boca Chica Texas Starship

Chevron icon It shows an expandable area or menu, or often previous/ next navigation options.

.

.

%.

from Job Search Tips https://jobsearchtips.net/why-spacex-keeps-sending-out-a-senior-executive-to-a-tiny-texas-beach-town/

[helloworlddemo1122-yahoopar-blog]

Why Rachel Bilson Is Going All in on Comedy (Exclusive)

Take Two is hoping to be your new summer guilty pleasure.

Rachel Bilson and Eddie Cibrian team up for ABC's detective dramedy, which centers on the unlikely pairing of Samantha Swift (Bilson), the ex-star of a popular cop series fresh out of rehab, and Eddie Valetik (Cibrian), an L.A. private investigator who prefers to operate as a lone wolf. When Sam is offered a potential comeback role, Eddie reluctantly agrees to have her tag along before it becomes apparent that Sam may be the jolt of energy -- and new perspective -- he needs to reinvigorate his P.I. business.

"For me, comedy is always my first love and so to be able to approach a premise like this -- a procedural but it's light and comedic as well -- there was no question for me," Bilson, 36, told ET over the phone while enroute to an on-location shoot.

The actress, who's starred on The O.C., Hart of Dixie and recently Nashville, immediately connected with the light-hearted banter between Sam and Eddie, and the promise of the fun-loving, wacky vibe presented in the pilot. "I loved Sam. The character was interesting. She had a lot of things going on -- from being an actress to recovering [from rehab] and taking on this new role. It was an adventure I couldn't pass up."

Ahead of Thursday's premiere, Bilson spoke with ET about flexing her comedic muscles, her on-set rapport with Cibrian and what Summer Roberts would think if she met Sam Swift. 

ET: Last July when we spoke, you had said that you didn't want to work as much, especially with a young daughter. Take Two came pretty quickly after your time on Nashville ended, so what made you say yes?

Rachel Bilson: My daughter [Briar Rose] turned 3 in October and that was around the time that we started talking about Take Two -- or soon after that, if I'm not mistaken. Life happens and things change, and she was a little older. I thought, It's 13 episodes, that's five months and that leaves seven months to be mom. It was the right timing and everything fell in place in the right way.

Take Two comes from the minds of Castle team Andrew Marlowe and Terri Edda Miller, and is very similar in tone to that series. How familiar were you with Castle before signing on?

I had seen it a few times. My sister-in-law loved it and would watch it, so I knew about it and I knew the premise and I knew it was a fun show. But I knew liked Terri and Andrew's work. So when Take Two came about and I heard the premise for it, I thought it was really cool and really fun, which was very important for me.

On paper, the show's concept is quite meta. You're playing a former TV star, for one thing. Was there an element of deja vu for you?

(Laughs.) Well, I think Sam is a lot different from me personally because I don't think I was falling out of a car pantiless. She was a little more extreme than I was for sure. 

What did you like immediately about your character, Sam Swift?

I like that she represented a really strong woman, even though she has been through the wringer. She's approaching life now wanting to change it around and prove herself and better herself and showing strength. Nowadays, with everything going on, that was really attractive to me in a female character. Raising a little girl, you always want to pick those characters.

Is that a driving force behind the recent roles that you've taken?

Yeah, for sure. You become a mom of a young girl, everything changes.

What traits of Sam's do you wish you possessed in your real life?

I love that she's really good at being a P.I. I pride myself on being a really good detective. (Laughs.) I have scared many ex-boyfriends, so I think that part is fun. When I'm reading a script or whatever, I'd be like, "Oh my god, that's how they found out! I would totally have done that." Getting into that myself was fun. 

In watching the first two episodes of the show, because you're playing a former small-screen star, I couldn't help but go back to the 2004 episode of The O.C., where Summer Roberts meets the cast of her favorite TV soap... 

The Valley? 

Yes! Which leads me to this question: What would Summer think of Sam Swift if they met?

Oh my god, that's really funny. (Laughs.) I feel like Summer would be a fan. I think they share a sense of humor and enthusiasm. 

A lot of the show hinges on the chemistry between you and Eddie Cibrian. Was the connection instantaneous?

I had never met him or worked with him, but we all got together for lunch -- Eddie, Terri, Andrew and myself -- before we started. He was super nice and we both talked about how we like to work. Just seeing how we have a similar approach to working, we got along great. It's always a gamble, you never know [how it's going to work out], but I'm very grateful that it's him because it's many hours a day you have to spend on set and luckily, he's a nice guy.

Sam and Eddie get thrown into the fire, so to speak, early on when circumstances force them to team up. What's your take on their reluctant partnership?

I like that they're opposites. They work so differently, so I think it's really going to help bring out that other side of the other person. They're also going to help each other a lot because of how different they are. It's fun; there's a good dynamic there with the characters. I think that's what people like to tune in and to see.

Could a romance be brewing between the two of them?

That might be a road that might be traveled at some point. I don't know at this point in time. I think the writers are focusing on our relationship as partners and the crimes we're solving and there might be a few times where we're locked in closets or in close quarters. 

If you could do a career take two in a completely different field, what would it be?

That's a tough one. It's hard because I'm a mom and if I wasn't working, I would just be with my daughter. But I always wanted to be a preschool teacher. I always loved kids, so I'd go that route. 

Lastly, what's one thing you want fans to take away from watching Take Two?

It's a really fun show and it's the perfect show where you can sit down in your living room and not have to think and just enjoy yourself. It's funny, it's entertaining -- all of the things that I personally like to watch when I just want to relax. I want to turn on a show like this. If people want an escape that's super light and fun, this would be a great show.

Take Two premieres Thursday, June 21 at 10 p.m. ET/PT on ABC.

RELATED CONTENT:

Rachel Bilson and Eddie Cibrian Spice Up Summer TV With 'Take Two' -- Watch Sneak Peek! (Exclusive)

Rachel Bilson and Eddie Cibrian Heat Up Summer P.I. Show 'Take Two' -- See the Poster! (Exclusive)

Rachel Bilson Says She'd Do a Reboot of ‘The O.C.’ -- But the Revival Would Never Work (Exclusive)

[footyplusau]

Is Bucks’ change enough?

LATE last season, Collingwood coach Nathan Buckley predicted his team would need to make the finals in 2017 for him to keep his job.

Granted, he was responding to a question during a standard radio interview, but one of the game’s more open and honest coaches knew what he was doing. And, he also had to know he had just fuelled what remains one of footy’s hottest topics.

Three seasons out of the finals and a gradual slide down the ladder in his five years in charge (the Pies finished fourth and reached a preliminary final in his first year, 2012) has led to this point: it’s now or never for faith in Buckley’s football program to be restored.  

Buckley says he’s relaxed about the season ahead and he appears to be, too.

His complexion – which club insiders notice changing when stress hits – is clear. It helps that the team’s pre-season form has been reasonable.

However, Buckley knows he must continue to change and improve for Collingwood to emerge from the dip in its fortunes.

Buckley is well aware of his shortcomings and recognises he needs to evolve to capitalise on his best characteristics.

It’s well known Buckley is demanding on himself; he was raised to believe in the ethos that the best chance of success comes through hard work.

Hard work, combined with his fierce competitiveness, shaped a glittering playing career heavy on individual honours but short of the ultimate goal: a premiership.

Discipline, hard work and commitment became ingrained into his DNA, so much so that it was only 18 months ago he discontinued the ritual he developed as a player of weighing himself – a mere eight years after his career ended.

An operation to repair the hamstring he tore off the bone while playing touch football had prompted the shift, which extended to him also finally ending the habit of timing himself running Melbourne’s Tan Track.

His two years as coach-in-waiting (2010-11) had been manic. When he found that pressure creeping into his family time, he reduced his “on” time by about 20 per cent.

Even though it felt like cheating at times, he knew it was the right approach.

Buckley shares a laugh with skipper Scott Pendlebury on photo day. Picture: AFL Photos

On the work front, however, the ‘harder-you-work-the-luckier-you-get’ approach began to cause Buckley problems when he took over as senior coach, relatively inexperienced, as aspects of his man-management jarred with others in his sphere.

The frustration in the way he worked, when it existed, related more to matters that in isolation appear trivial, yet when piled up day after day, have been known to wear people down.

For example, it wasn’t long ago that Buckley would send evening texts to his senior players to open up a conversation about a training drill earlier that day.

Although to Buckley the communication was about inclusion, some recipients interpreted it as an intrusion into their downtime.

Vocal at a coaches’ dinner midway through last season in expressing his view that the AFLPA too tightly controls the contact hours players have at clubs, he has often demanded more when others are either openly urging or silently screaming for less.

Buckley, at times, has also found it hard to sit idly by if a presentation from an assistant didn’t – in his view, at least – hit the mark.

Players would wait for Buckley to chime in, feeling the impact his intervention had on the vibe in the room.

And the empathy he displayed towards individual players eventually became a source of suspicion when hours and hours of good work could be undone with a remark following a defeat. Those moments would leave some players confused as to what really mattered to the coach: the person or the result.

Those around Buckley during that initial phase of his coaching career defend him strongly on that front, saying the coach was, if anything, guilty of giving too much time to some players without that care being reciprocated.

But they do acknowledge his battles with matching care and demand under the fierce spotlight of wins and losses.

Those most critical saw his handling of Heritier Lumumba as a good example of a coach being well-meaning but too indulging of a player.

The eventual saga underlined to them that Buckley was still learning, still working out when enough was enough and to cut a player adrift.

Although his intent was right, his actions weren’t always having the impact he hoped. That hurt him.

An idealist, Buckley privately and publicly lives by impeccable values: he is respectful, inclusive, smart and down-to-earth, and in the moments his football brain turns off, he is genuinely interested in the lives of others.

You get a sense of those qualities listening to or watching Buckley in his various media appearances. In a relatively short time, he has developed a statesman-like standing when discussing on- and off-field football issues.

Anyone who encounters him away from football’s furnace – where he is interested and interesting company – leaves wanting him to succeed.

He’s also generous, organising tickets to Wimbledon for injured defender Jackson Ramsay when he travelled through Europe during last season as part of his rehabilitation.

“He [Buckley] was in constant contact…the tennis tickets [were] a nice surprise,” Ramsay told AFL.com.au.

It’s consistent with Buckley’s want to reward those he can see having a crack.

Buckley addresses the team during the Queen’s Birthday loss. Picture: AFL Photos

IN MANY ways, it’s not surprising these types of issues have arisen for the champion-turned-coach.

Buckley has now been at Collingwood for 22 of his 44 years, a football club person most of his adult life, apart from two seasons working in the media.

A footy mastermind, even his critics respect his knowledge of the game and what underpins it.

However his hands-on management experience was naturally limited and he’d never coached his own team.

Add to that the challenge of coaching 14 former teammates, 12 of whom had played in the 2010 premiership, and the degree of difficulty inherent in the job was high.

Particularly when everyone’s antenna was up, searching for any sign of the Buckley he acknowledges existed until his mid-20s returning.

Perception soon became his reality.

After 2010 premiership coach Mick Malthouse had accepted, reluctantly, the need for a transition to a new generation of coaching, the club – from top to bottom – believed in the need for a change, both in culture and playing stocks.

Buckley took on the task with relish, his passion for Collingwood sometimes underestimated.

At times during the early days his zeal overflowed, resulting in him taking an interest in the decision-making minutiae of the club, in areas no coach has enough time to consider.

The Pies turned over 56 players from 2011-15, the biggest change of any club, with everyone from the president to the captain supporting the moves.

Although a unique set of circumstances surrounded each decision, Buckley had to wear the heat, despite the fact the club had started the fire.

Collingwood’s leaders didn’t stifle any hype, with CEO Gary Pert claiming in 2014 that a premiership within three years was a reasonable expectation.

Then came a sorry injury list that included key players, Ben Reid, Dane Swan and Jamie Elliott. Only three players – Scott Pendlebury, Steele Sidebottom and Jarryd Blair – have played 100 or more games for the Magpies under Buckley.

Two top-10 picks from 2013 (Matt Scharenberg and Nathan Freeman) have yielded just four combined games to date due to injury, with Freeman departing for St Kilda after two seasons.

A pair of trusted players, Lachlan Keeffe and Josh Thomas, missed two years for breaching the AFL anti-doping code before returning the fold this season.

A conga line of football managers (Geoff Walsh, Rodney Eade, Neil Balme, Graeme Allan, then Walsh again) created instability. Buckley wasn’t at fault, but the lack of continuity was impacting on the environment and the football program.

Returned football manager Geoff Walsh with Eddie McGuire. Picture: AFL Photos

Throw in the unexpected departure of Dayne Beams (to the Brisbane Lions), as well as the impacts of free agency and expansion, and it’s easy to see reasons outside the coach’s control that made the road to transition muddy and potholed.

The generous can point to as many promising players emerging under Buckley as have gone off the grid, with Josh Smith, Jamie Elliott, Taylor Adams, Travis Varcoe, Mason Cox and Ramsay much better now than when they arrived.

The talented Sidebottom, Pendlebury and Adam Treloar have also flourished under his tutelage.

Many of those players are of similar ilk to Buckley: professional, mature and dedicated, but he also has found ways to extend the potential of Brodie Grundy, Tom Phillips, Darcy Moore and Alex Fasolo by challenging them.

One former player contacted by AFL.com.au didn’t hesitate when asked his view of Buckley: “I love him.”

Some other departed players have expressed different views, at times publicly.

The resultant slide down the ladder has therefore hidden to some extent what Magpie insiders vehemently argue is forward movement off the field in the five years Buckley has been the club’s public face.

But the slide had to be addressed.

Buckley speaks with Brodie Grundy before a pre-season game. Picture: AFL Photos

IT WAS on an end-of-season trip to the US to visit various NFL clubs and college football teams (New York Giants and San Francisco 49ers, and Oregon and Stanford universities) that a light bulb shone for the coach.

Buckley had flown out of Melbourne intending to fill the void left when Leading Teams parted ways with Collingwood at season’s end. He had planned to run the 2017 leadership program himself.

The coach had even made a presentation outlining how it would operate and presented it to key decision-makers at the club.

However, during a week at the prestigious Stanford campus in Northern California, when he had full access to observe the school’s football program, something changed.

He saw how a team with 105 student athletes on its list relied on delegation, how head coach David Shaw willingly – and by necessity – empowered his assistants and, importantly, his players.

Stanford football director Matt Doyle, who spent time with Buckley and West Coast coach Adam Simpson, told AFL.com.au observations of the program’s scope would have reinforced to Buckley that trust in the process of delegation was “essential”.

As he sat in the halls of Stanford’s state-of-the-art football department, Buckley began to shift his thinking on how Collingwood’s leadership program needed to be managed.

He was aware feedback had come from players during the 2016 review that relationships between coaches and players had at times felt forced, an obligation, rather than a source of comfort.

Buckley decided then he would pass control of the leadership program to his players.

Now, some six months later with the new-style program implemented and working well, relationships between players and coaches are more organic, the reins loosened to ensure people aren’t wasting time together simply for appearances.

Strong relationships with the skipper Pendlebury and midfielders Sidebottom and Adams gave Buckley the confidence they could direct and drive a program to suit players’ needs.

On March 14, the club announced a three-man leadership group, sparse in comparison to groups at some other clubs.

Pendlebury, who has won four of five best and fairest awards under Buckley, has shown his willingness as captain to support Buckley in the darkest times.

It was the skipper, most upset after last year’s season-derailing 80-point loss to the Sydney Swans in round one, who dragged his teammates into a room and told them the performance was unacceptable, allowing the coach to be more pragmatic in his summary.

Eight players from that round one game are no longer with the Magpies, the biggest turnover of any club from its round one team in 2016.

But that is not the only change.

Brenton Sanderson directs Collingwood training. Picture: AFL Photos

Brenton Sanderson, a close friend of Buckley’s, joined the football staff as an assistant coach. An advocate of recognising what players can do rather than what they can’t, the former Adelaide coach has the confidence to challenge Buckley.

Coaching mentor David Wheadon, who spent the week with Buckley at Stanford, started working with the Magpies’ assistant coaches in a part-time capacity on his return from the US, helping them find ways to get better.

And Walsh is back in the footy manager’s chair. The veteran administrator has a habit of calling a spade a shovel, so the messages – and lines of responsibility – are clear.

The changes resulted in a relatively settled off-season (from the moment Walsh returned as football manager, at least). The Magpies built on the momentum gained in the final 10 rounds last season, when they matched the top teams in the contested areas of the game the coach likes to refer to as “grunt”.

But no one knows what will happen to the coach when the pressure returns.

For Buckley’s evolution to continue he must – especially when the stakes inevitably get higher – keep faith in others, so others have the chance to keep faith in him.

Buckley thinks results are all that will matter when the decision on his future comes.

Perhaps he is right, but if he can continue to evolve and find the lines between control and empowerment, care and demand, and fun and hard work, then the tale of his coaching career might replicate the one he wrote as a player.

He is fond of telling his players that opportunities are in front of them. He knows there’s one in front of him. This season will determine whether he grabs it.

The post Is Bucks’ change enough? appeared first on Footy Plus.

from Footy Plus http://ift.tt/2mXzhr4 via http://footyplus.net