#Matthew was absolutely unfazed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gimmethosedaddymilkers · 2 years ago

Text

Your first time with the Van Der Linde Gang pt.3

Welcome to part three lovelys! Get ready for some more of your favorite outlaws and how they BOOGIE

DO THE DEVIL’S TANGO

THE HORIZONTAL MAMBO

Anyway lmao

This is for @12timetraveler and I know @photo1030 was interested in seeing it too!

Warnings: NSFW Themes, 18+ readers only. Explanations of sexual themes obviously Under the cut!

Hosea Matthews

Hosea is an incredibly charming man

You can tell him that it’s your first time but he’s got that figured out miles before you tell him

So he is completely unfazed by your confession and simply smiles at you reassuringly.

He knows that, and he appreciates you kindly telling him before something transpired between the two of you.

He wants to do the absolute best for you that he can.

He’s gonna go all out

First of all he’s a con man

He can trick a dog off a meat wagon and he will to ensure the best for you.

He manages to even get you two the best possible hotel room in the whole country, simply by sweet talking and playing up the idea that you only have a few days left with your ‘illness’ and you two don’t pay a dime.

When you get there he’s also managed to get the best wine for the two of you and a meal that was brought up to your room

It was a large room, a king sized canopy bed and a fireplace all to your own.

An adjourning bath as well, that was private!

So of course the entire night he pampers you and thrills your mind with his stories of grandeur throughout his life

He tells you the most romantic things he can possibly think of, every story that can paint him in a heroic, romantical, fantastical light.

It’s just so wonderful to listen to him twist his words into magical linguistics

He is kind enough to help you bathe, the two of you will sit together, though he is gentlemenly enough to let the bath simply be a bath.

He helps clean you gently and easily, rubbing your shoulders, and lathering up your arms and legs with the gentlest of touches

He kisses your shoulders and neck to remind you he’s there and the two of you have casual conversation together.

It doesn’t even feel like it’s your first time because he makes it feel as though it’s just another night, and that’s what makes it so special.

He’s tender and kind through the whole night, being extremely considerate about how you’re feeling and what’s going on.

He is just a wonderful lover, kind and gentle, but he can be rough when he needs to.

(He taught Arthur a couple of things when he was younger, I mean, the boy needed a few pointers he’s not exactly the best with people)

After the deed is done he’s just as caring as he was before.

He’s immediately ready to take care of you, cleaning you up, and giving you water and doing his best to make sure that you are absolutely content and happy with the way things went.

The next morning he takes you out for tea before going back to camp

Sean McGuire

Let’s face facts here people

Sean is

well

Sean

He isn’t exactly the most romantic man on the planet.

hell, he hardly ever takes you on dates, but in his defense he’s never been taught that, that’s how you’re supposed to treat your significant other

So when you tell him

“Hey, I’ve never really done this before”

While his hand his already under your shirt or in your pants grabbing at whatever it is he can find he nearly screams

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never done this before?”

He isn’t mad at you, or judging you of course, but he does wish you would have told him before it had gotten to this point

but you tell him the only reason you told him is because you wanted him to take it easy on you, not because you didn’t want to do anything

He’s super timid after you tell him of course.

He gets super nervous, he wants you to have a good time and as much as he boasts about being so good at what he does, he not actually too confident in his skills

He does the best he can when it comes to it, taking extra care to make sure that he’s going easy on you, whereas by now had it not been your first time he would have already been knee deep in the good stuff

If you reassure him that it’s okay to pretend it’s all normal he’ll do his best to, but no guarantees.

After he finally gets into a rhythm of the mood he’ll go back to normal, but he does still take his time with you, he wants to make sure that you think he’s good of course

(He cares about you and how you feel and that you have a good time but I mean he has a reputation, he wants to uphold)

after all is said and done you both get cleaned up, being nice to one another you clean him and he cleans you, and then you both cuddle together in the shared tent you have

of course

he asks you if it was okay for your first time

and you tell him yes and then he asks

“Why did you chose me for your first time?”

and you tell the dumb irish bastard

“Cause I love you stupid.”

Bill Williamson

Bill is a big man only outshined by Arthur, and only by very little.

Now, he’s a huge man, but he’s got an even bigger heart

this man wants nothing to be nice to you, to love you.

Granted he does have his issues, just like all of the members of the gang, but he’s doing his best to try and work them out

That’s part of the reason why you were with him, you loved his personality and thought he was extremely attractive, and that attitude of wanting to fix himself was just so fantastic to you.

When you shyly bring up the fact that you’d like to lay with him and that it’d be your first time he panics.

He’s never had someone want to be with him without him paying for it

So you telling him you want to, and you want to without him even asking he’s floored

But, hearing that it’s your first time he’s worried

He’s never thought he was very exceptional at the whole sex thing, and he really didn’t want to disappoint you when it came down to it

of course

you didn’t have anything to really compare it to

but

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it to be good for you

He has no idea where to start but he refuses to ask you because he wants the night to be a romantic surprise

so of course

he goes to one of the guys to ask

he thinks about going to Arthur first but he and Arthur had never been extremely close, so that was out

Javier was also out, on the fact that the two of them had a little bit of a rivalry, so end the end he went to the camp dad

Hosea

Who was happy to tell him exactly what to do and where to take you

The two of you have a ride in a wagon, a comfortable one, a carriage even, through the country, seeing all there is to see

It takes you all the way to your favorite town, whatever one it may be, and rather than taking you to a hotel he’ll take you just outside of town to a beautiful vista

or if you have a favorite place around there he’ll take you there

and that’s where the magic happens

he’s brought liquor for the two of you, he only drinks a little, he doesn’t want to ruin anything by getting to buzzed or drunk all together

Then

when things get heated

he loses himself for a little

but he regains his posture and asks you what you like, what you want, and has you guide him the whole way, making sure that he actually makes the night good enough for you to remember for the rest of your life.

When the two of you are done he doesn’t let you move a muscle and cleans you with a smile on his face, asking you if he did alright by you, and if you enjoyed your night

of course you did, he was a gentlemen but he was also himself, joking and laughing like always

Lenny Summers

Lenny is a book learner everything he knows about romance comes from the novels he reads, much like Mary-Beth

So he usually treats you fantastically as it is, always telling you how wonderful you are, how beautiful/handsome you are, and how absolutely fantastic a person you are

he tells you more than once a day that he would like to spend his entire life with you.

And he knew from the beginning when you two got together that you had never been intimate.

So the two of you had decided to just let it happen, it would happen naturally when it happened.

But, along came your one year anniversary

And he had a whole plan, it was a special day to him and he was gonna treat it as such

He made a meal for the two of you himself, taking you out to his favorite place, where he knew you’d like the view, out in the Grizzlies, facing a waterfall and bridge, which was beautifully covered in fog in the late afternoons

The two of you have your picnic and eat, talking and joking and of course he has a gift for you too.

It’s a beautiful necklace that he’s clearly thought out

It’s gold with a very small round pedant on it

The pendant has your birthstone on it, shining and immortalized there, the back has the date the two of you got together engraved on it.

He will sit and read to you with his oil lantern in your tent, and a blanket wrapped around both of you

this time it’s actually you who starts things

You kiss him on the neck while he’s reading and after the first few he’s has to keep rereading what he’s already read to try and comprehend his own words

before you know it the two of you are having fun

He takes his time with you, and makes absolute certain that you aren’t hurt

For the most part it’s one of the most natural things you’ve ever done

it felt right and in no way felt awkward

by the time you two were finished you’d never felt so content and tired

The two of you lay together and it’s almost immediately that he falls asleep with his head on your chest and your hands in his hair.

I hope you all enjoyed this! If anyone has anymore you’d like me to write just let me know!

Thank you for reading!!

#rdr2 community #rdr2 #Rdr2 Headcannons #bill williamson #lenny summers #hosea matthews #sean mcguire #Red Dead Redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 drabble #drabbles

37 notes · View notes

stxrliasfics · 1 year ago

Text

Two of Cups - Jack Hunter x Eric Matthews Chapter 7

Chapter 7: While You Were Out

Shawn got up from the couch, rushing to where Jack was sitting. “But, you know what would be better?”

“I’m afraid to ask,” he said, unfazed.

“You and Eric could take us with you.”

“Absolutely not.”

#jeric #fanfiction #boy meets world #two of cups jack x eric #ice hockey au #bmw fanfiction #jack hunter #eric matthews #two of cups jack hunter x eric matthews #slowburn #angst #bmw #written by stxrlia

7 notes · View notes

hcrdknocklife · 10 months ago

Text

Though she may be an internationally-recognized actress, Matthew had always found Clara to be an absolute spoilt brat. She was extremely talented, and there had been no doubt about that. But with her fame came the constant attention of her fans, and the paparazzi who hounded her wherever she went, both of whom Matthew had now been tasked to protect her from. For a man who had served in the military before he had established his own private security firm, he had always believed that this sort of job was beneath him, but he did not have the right to be picky about the jobs he took on when he had a business to run. He had protected castles, and royal palaces from being attacked, and saved politicians from assassination attempts. But now he was stuck playing the role of a glorified babysitter to someone who had been given a taste of fame far too early on in her life to have any sort of grasp in the reality of the world in which she lived. The constant partying was getting out of hand, and Matt was determined to put an end to it, not just because of his own annoyance, but also the sake of the very real concerns for her security. "I can't drink. I'm on the clock." Matt responded to her words, unable to hold back from rolling his eyes as her long hair whipped him squarely in his face. It almost made him want to yank that hair, and drag her right out of this club. But for the sake of his professionalism, he fought that urge, and stepped closer towards her. "There's paparazzi lining up outside of the club, and someone has managed to leak your location online. Fans are lining up outside, and they've shut down the entire street. We need to go." He stated, his voice quite stern as his comms device crackledm in his ear, and he listened intently to what his team had just informed him of. "It's not safe to leave through the main entrance anymore. But we've found a back exit that seems quite secure. I've put my team on standby, and I've instructed the driver to bring the car around. Either you come with me now, or I leave here without you. You can deal with the hundreds of people waiting outside all on your own." Matthew had never been so brutal with a client before, but with Clara, this had become inevitable. It often seemed like the only way he could get her to cooperate with him. Truth be told, he could not exactly leave her here, as he had been bound by the contract that he had signed with her mother, which stated that he must remain by Clara's side at all times whenever she was out in public. As long as she was kept unaware of his contractual obligations, he was certain that he could have his way. She did not seem like someone who would pay any particular attention to the rules, including the ones that he was meant to follow. Needless to say, Matthew had been more than willing to use that to his own advantage. "Whenever you're ready, Clara. We don't have much time." He informed her, glancing down at the time on his wristwatch before he looked up to meet her gaze, completely unfazed by all of her attempts to not cooperate with him.

there were many perks of being an internationally-recognized actress, but in clara’s opinion, the security detail wasn’t one of them. just when things were starting to get fun, her career finally taking off the way she’d always hoped it would — the way her mother always hoped it would — she was saddled with a surly stranger who apparently thought breathing down her neck was part of his job description. and okay, maybe it was, but they still didn’t appreciate it. “late?” she echoed, exaggerating so as to make the word sound outrageous. it was really too bad that he didn’t appreciate her talent for drama. “the night’s barely started. why don’t you have a drink, loosen that tie a little, yeah?” she turned her head to continue her conversation with the fashion model she’d been chatting up all night, letting her long sheet of black hair whip matthew squarely in the face as she did so.

#interactions | matthew joseph harper #thread | matthew & clara #ship | matthew & clara #lvciddreamt #murder tw #i'm so sorry about him... no not really #she's pushing his buttons but he's determined to win

2 notes · View notes

saintmurd0ck · 2 years ago

Note

For the sleepover, Can I Get You A Drink? With Matt Murdock pls! "Did I say you could stop?"

okay so i've been unhinged recently thanks to a combination of many many things, and i decided this would be the perfect time for a good ol' enemies hate fuck brat tamer type thing. yes i did say all those words together, in the one sentence 💗 also, am i posting this as i go to bed so i don't dwell on the words i've scrapped together? absolutely.

let's have a sleepover at mine!

no limit | matt murdock x f!reader

That smug bastard always knows exactly what you want. Even if you’re too cockdrunk to slap the words together.

More importantly however, he knows how to push.

And push.

Until he gets you where he wants you.

Matt's perfect, knowing smirk brands itself into your forehead. Of course he knows. When he's laying there like that, biceps bulging to all hell as he wings his arms outwards, he has to know.

He knows you hate his guts – despise him, even – and yet you want him with everything you are, down to the bottom of your gluttonous core.

It’s almost pathetic at how easily he reduces you to rubble, and it shows as you hover over him, doing your best to conceal the shakiness in your breathing. It doesn’t work, though. It never does. He’s nonchalant and unmoving – was that a hint of a shrug? – as you take him in your hand to nudge his blunt head against your needy cunt. He’s unfazed, as if he wasn’t just buried in you mere minutes ago. Frustration roils in the pits of your stomach as you throb with emptiness, as you find yourself desperate for more.

His cock is heavy in your hand, veins pulsating slightly as you begin to lower yourself down. Your cheeks instinctively suck in at the sensation, at the way your walls start to flutter in response. You pause for a moment, raising a hand to wipe at the dried tear stains on your cheeks, courtesy of the fucking he gave you earlier.

‘Where’s that attitude of yours now, huh?’ he grunted, pressing your breasts up against the window, ignoring your hiss of discomfort at the cold glass against your sensitive nipples. You’d tried your goddamn best to lash out at him, to bite back with an insult that’d have you barred from every church in the city, but he was too good – felt too good – to talk.

Fuck Matthew Murdock and his heaven-sent cock.

It’s a quiet, almost hurried affair as you sink down on him, teeth nearly puncturing the skin of your lip at his size. He must’ve heard the breath that sliced through your teeth, because the corners of his mouth tug upwards. As if he knows how big he is, at how he keeps you on the precipice of pleasure and pain.

It takes every ounce of effort for you to stave off a reaction. You don’t want to give him any more ammunition, but God, no one else has ever felt this good before. Not for you.

Your fingernails dig into the hard muscle of his chest as you flex your hips, and, as if goaded by your intent stare, he disappears within you entirely. You dart your eyes away to catch a glimpse of his face. He’s… blissed out. Peaceful, even. And fuck, you’ve got to avert your gaze.

This is dangerous for you.

It’s okay when he’s all growls and snarls and mean, but this… seeing him content, happy, even; that’s unfamiliar territory. That’s ‘are we hate-fucking because we have feelings for each other?’ territory. And you can’t afford that.

With perfect timing, Matt tugs you back down to Earth with an animalistic sound, the noise alone causing your body to tighten around him.

All notions of peace and are-we-more-than-we-are feelings are gone. He’s good at that. He’s Olympic-gold-good-at-that.

“Move,” he commands, planting his hands on your waist. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

Fuck. You.

But you grit your teeth, and you do it anyway.

Fuck you, you think, leaning forward to flatten your palms against his chest, anchoring your knees firmly into the mattress.

A sharp smack and an ‘I don’t have all night’ punctuates your thoughts, and so your curses continue to claw him to shreds in your mind.

Condescending asshole.

Matt lets out a furtive moan as you slide your fingers into his hair, and then as you jerk his head backwards into the pillow. The gesture doesn’t work as intended, so with a scowl rendering itself across your face, you pull again. Harder.

“Fuck,” he groans, low and throaty, chasing his hips into yours. The tip of his cock brushes against the spot that makes your vision flash white, and suddenly you’re spurred to move, if only for your pleasure, and your pleasure only.

This time, as you start to bounce up and down his length, you let the noises tumble from your lips. Whimpers and all. It’s time you stopped giving a fuck about what Matt has to say, how he reacts to your every move. It’s obscene; the slapping of flesh on flesh, the slick of your arousal coating his skin, but it drives you.

Ignoring the burning in your thighs and the way his abs unfairly flex underneath your hands, your eyes squeeze shut in reverence of your mission, focus honing into the pressure building in your core. It’s a knot that’s tightly wound, but you know that with just one tug… it’ll all come apart.

As the fog of your impending orgasm mists away, a sudden warmth on your body calls for attention. You’ve been so lost in pursuing your release you don’t register the rough hands that have come to rest on your waist, guiding the canting of your hips. The friction of Matt’s calloused hands with your silken skin is more than you can bear, and–

He holds you down, rutting his hips into you at a ruthless pace, because he’s fucking sick of you taking your sweet time and he needs to feel you–

Explode around him.

That’s what you do. You let your orgasm shatter your body, let it crest and break around you in tidal waves…

But that’s it. That’s all you’re going to give, and that’s all he’s going to get. You climb off his lap with ease, leaving him twitching, soaked, desperate for more. Just as he had you earlier.

“What. The. Fuck.” He’s angry.

“Did I say you could stop?”

Oh, you’ve gone and done it. He’s fucking angry.

“Hm?” you whirl around, moving to shimmy your panties up your legs. A smile glints on your face as his drops.

“Come back here.” The rustle of fabric being hauled onto your body is near-deafening with the blood roaring in his ears.

“Or what?”

The mattress squeaks as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed, moving to pump his cock once. Twice.

He towers over you as he tilts your chin upwards with his thumb and forefinger. It’s a threat.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re about to find out.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil #daredevil smut #matt murdock fanfic #x reader #saintmurd0ck let's have a sleepover #rhi responds 💌#rhi writes 💻

636 notes · View notes

huggybug · 3 years ago

Note

hope im not too late for dilf day but can i ask for 41 with matthew tkachuk? thank you sm!

happy dilf day!

41. “Oh, you really messed up. Can I be there when you tell mom and dad?”

Summertime was hectic for the Tkachuk family. You all spent it in St. Louis, of course and it was already crazy when Matthew was a kid but over the years, as the family expanded, things got even more chaotic.

You and Matthew started it off with your son Ben who was the oldest grandchild and then Taryn had a daughter around the same time of your second son, Garrett. Your youngest son, Ryan was born within a year of Brady’s son and then his younger sister was born soon after with Taryn’s second daughter being the newest addition. So to say the family tree had gotten pretty full over the past 13 years was an understatement.

Chantal and Keith absolutely loved it. They loved having their house full of kids again and even when all hell broke loose in the summer, they were there with smiles on their faces. In fact, every time the newest grandchild was born, they practically shouted it from the rooftops.

Anyways, summer was a gong-show. Kids were everywhere and in addition to that, the Tkachuk siblings were just as immature as they were before they all had kids. There were way too many occasions where you had caught Matthew and his siblings wrestling in the backyard as all the kids cheered on their respective parent.

“Where is Matthew?” Chantal came into the kitchen where you had just started to prepare dinner for tonight. You raised an eyebrow before gesturing out the window which looked out into the backyard where your grown ass husband was currently spraying his grown ass brother with the hose as six kids cheered from the side.

“Oh dear…” Chantal just shook her head before moving to help you, clearly unfazed by their behaviour.

Being home was good for Matthew and you knew the kids loved spending so much time with their cousins. You considered yourself lucky since they were all so close in age and they got along so well. You also were extremely grateful for Matthew’s family and how amazing they were despite the crazy genes.

While Brady’s son was interested in soccer and his daughter in dance much to his disappointment, your boys were addicted to hockey. Matthew claimed it was in their blood while you argued it was because he banned all other sporting equipment from your house and only let the kids watch hockey or hockey-themed movies. It didn’t matter why or how but your boys were obsessed.

They adored Matthew and loved going to his games which you had absolutely no problems with.

Coming from a hockey-loving family, you supported the boys and drove them all to their practices which usually meant you waking up at 5am which you did not love. And in the end, you did it with minimal complaints! But that also meant your house was even more of a hockey sanctuary than before. Your garage had turned into the equipment room, forever tainted with the smell of their gear while the backyard had an ODR ready to go at all times throughout the winter months. So when it came to your house, all you had was one rule: No hockey inside.

“Ry! Here!” Garrett called from one side of the kitchen, tapping his stick on the ground. Ryan shot the puck, sending it flying in the air towards his older brother. They passed back and forth a little and as they went, they moved towards the living room.

Ben, being the somewhat responsible one out of the three, entered the room when he heard the sticks hitting the floor but he was too late to warn his brothers because the puck that was just shot went sailing past him and crashed right into the lamp next to the couch, shattering it completely.

“That’s the lamp from Grandma” Garrett’s eyes widened, looking at Ryan who had just shot the puck.

“You’re in so much trouble” Ben told his youngest brother who looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“No I didn’t mean to!” Ryan wanted nothing but to turn back the clock so he could refuse to play pass with Garrett but he knew that was impossible.

“Oh, you really messed up. Can I be there when you tell mom and dad?” Ben smirked before hollering for you and Matthew who were already on the way after hearing the crash.

“What happened?” Matthew beat you into the room and saw the shattered lamp on the ground. Looking between it and the boys, he already knew the answer to the question but wanted to hear it directly from the source.

“Uh… I tripped?” Garrett supplied but it ended up as a question when he felt both you and Matthew’s eyes on him.

“I hit the lamp, I’m sorry” Ryan confessed and you had to hide behind Matthew so that the boys couldn’t see your reaction.

“This is why we have the rule of no hockey in the house!” Matthew exclaimed and your eyebrows shot up, you weren’t expecting him to get that upset.

“It was my idea so really it’s my fault” Garrett stepped forward, accepting the blame but Ryan protested, trying to take it all on himself.

“I don’t care who’s idea it was. Your mom made the rule and we follow it because…?” Matthew trailed off, waiting for an answer.

“Because she deserves it” They chorus together, like a well oiled machine.

“Right. She does everything for you boys especially when I’m away and the least you can do is not ruin her house with pucks, got it?” His stern voice was proved effective as the three boys nodded before each making their apologies to you even though Ben had nothing to apologize for.

“Now go away so we can clean this up” The boys scurried upstairs and you waited a couple seconds before finally letting your laughter out.

“Why are you laughing?” Matthew turned to look at you as he began to pick up the big shards of the lamp.

“You’re just so stern with them and I know for a fact you and Brady and Taryn were worse as kids, hell you’re still probably just as bad” You teased as you started to help him clean up.

“I just want them to respect you and your rules” Matthew was quieter than usual but you waited for him to continue before you spoke. “I don’t want them to think I’ll let your rules slip if I’m home, you know?”

“I know Matty and they do respect me. It’s not like we raised heathens, that’s Brady” He laughed loudly at your playful chirp.

“You’re not mad about the lamp?”

“Nope, it’s from Pottery Barn. It’s actually kind of old I was going to replace it with one from their new collection anyways” You shrugged. The lamp that used to sit in its spot was from Chantal but you moved it into a safer spot in Matthew’s office a couple months ago.

“Just take it out of their college fund” You snickered at his remark before focusing back on the broken lamp, cleaning it as best you could before leaving it for Matthew to finish up.

As you browsed the Pottery Barn website, your mind wandered to how Matthew was as a parent. How he grew up in a similar environment to how your sons were and also how it must be weird for him to be in the parent role now. It’s not like it hinders him in any way, Matthew was an amazing dad and if anything, you’d think it benefitted him. He knew what worked and what didn’t. He was able to relate to the boys in ways you never could, especially when it came to hockey. The more you thought about it, the more his actions today meant to you. Soon enough, you found yourself weeping over the Pottery Barn catalogue and it had nothing to do with the new Spring collection.

part 2

#matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #calgary flames #dad au #hockey writing #hockey fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #happy dilf day!#tkachuk blurb au

155 notes · View notes

harley-sunday · 4 years ago

Text

Encore [01]

Summary: The new Disney+ show ‘Encore’ brings together former castmates of a high school musical, tasking them with re-creating their original performance in a high school reunion like no other. Emotions run high as you face faded friendships, long-forgotten controversies, killer choreography, and an ex-boyfriend you haven’t seen in eighteen years.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader [unnamed OFC, nicknamed ‘Ace’)

Warnings: None

Word count: 8.4k

AN: So, here it is, the re-write of Encore. For those of you who have read it when it was first published, there are some subtle changes in this first part, but the real fun doesn’t start until part 2, which will be online tomorrow. Hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think :)

Masterlist

Cursing quietly you set out in a jog, one hand holding your purse close to your body while the other is clutching the double espresso that made you late in the first place. You make a mental note to check if they’ve replaced the coffee machine in your hotel room when you get back tonight, because you really don't want to go on another early-morning Starbucks run tomorrow in case they haven’t.

Still, you’re parked relatively closeby and so it’s only a short run to the double doors which you all but burst through, coming to a sudden stop when there are two people in your way who look like they��ve been waiting for you. They introduce themselves as part of the crew and help you with your microphone, telling you to keep it on as much as possible and not to forget to hand it back at the end of every day. You only half listen because all of a sudden the familiarity of the place hits you and you’re surprised to see nothing has changed, not really anyway. It’s almost like time has stood still and the sense of melancholy that washes over you makes you a little weak in the knees.

There’s no time to reminisce any further though, because once your mic is in place they tell you everyone else is already here and waiting for you in the theater room, and so you’re off again, running towards the other end of Lincoln-Sudbury Regional High School for the first time in eighteen years.

You’re a little out of breath when you get there and want to allow yourself a moment to catch it again, maybe calm your nerves a little, but you know they’re waiting for you and so you take one last deep breath and open the door.

There’s a group of nine people on the stage who, like you, are the show’s main cast. They’re all talking to each other amicably and you wonder if they’ve kept in touch all these years. One by one they turn to you as you make your way towards the front and it does absolutely nothing to calm your nerves. Some of them look surprised to see you and you don’t blame them, because once you left Sudbury after graduating high school you had no intention of ever coming back and so you cut ties rather vigorously.

Two of the four cameras that are spread out across the room are now trained on you, but you try your hardest to act natural, because that’s what it said in the production brief they sent you last week, and so instead you try to focus on the people you haven’t seen for so long.

It’s Nicole Matthews who greets you first, running towards you as you walk on stage. She presses a kiss to your cheek before she gives you a hug, a quiet, “So glad you made it, babe,” whispered into your ear. You hang on to her just a little longer because now that you’re finally getting to hug your best friend again for the first time in eighteen years it’s hard to let go.

After Nicole you make your way down the line at a steady pace, greeting everyone with a hug, except for Michael Pratt who insists on doing the secret handshake he taught you during rehearsals all those years ago. You hand your coffee to John Ryan on your right, because unfortunately you’ll need both hands for this. It takes a little practice but then you remember the full routine and you can’t help but laugh when you nail it on your third try, earning you a wink from Johnny when he hands you your coffee back, “Still got it, huh kiddo?”

All too soon there’s only one person left to greet and you know all eyes are on you when you walk towards Chris, the talking from before quieting down to a hushed whisper. It’s fine. You get it. You would want to know what happens next too.

“Hi.”

He seems unsure what to do and after a second or two he pulls you in for a hug that’s a little awkward and might have not been such a good idea after all.

You give him a quick pat on the back before you pull back, and step to the left, trying to hide from view a little. There’s a whole range of emotions you’re going through right now and you’re not sure which one to settle one. If somehow you could walk out of here and just forget this ever happened, you probably would, even though you are sure Nicole would never let you.

It’s then three more people walk in and so everyone’s attention shifts to the newcomers before they have a chance to ask questions you don’t have any answers to.

The two men and one woman introduce themselves as the director, choreographer, and musical director for this project and tell you there’s a lot of work ahead of you, even though from tomorrow there will be some professionals to fill some of the minor roles and help with the choreography. They seem so unfazed about having a celebrity there that you can’t help but wonder if they got instructions from production or if they’re just used to working with well-known actors. You suppose, and hope, it’s the latter.

“So, Grease,” the director, Coy, comments with a smile when he hands the scripts to Nicole to pass down the line, “that was already a classic by the time you performed it.” He asks everyone to tell him who had which role in the original production, taking notes and nodding fervently when he hears who played who.

Coy looks up and smiles, “So, we have a lot to do, of course, if we’re gonna do a show in five days, but Grease doesn’t work unless you have fun. Unless you’re having fun, the show falls flat.” He looks to Adam, the musical director, “So today we’re gonna have a little bit of a singing session. That’ll let us know where you are, vocally.”

Adam has the group form a semi-circle and hands each of you a piece of paper with the lyrics of ‘I Want it that Way’ by the Backstreet Boys on them, because, as he reasons, it was one of the biggest hits the year you performed Grease and you all need to go back to that place in time.

Nicole starts, a little hesitant at first, but then she decides to go for it and it’s amazing and, like nineteen years ago, you are absolutely in awe of her voice. As more and more people sing their rendition of the song, you are actually surprised at the level of singers in the group and how serious everyone takes this. That is until Johnny and Michael decide to remake the song into a duet once it’s Johnny’s turn and their very serious facial expressions and interpretive dancing have you crying from laughter in no time.

Chris is up next and finally you get to take a good look at him. He’s wearing a dark blue sweater that stretches across the muscles in his arms and chest, paired with black jeans, and sneakers, and it suits him. His voice is soft but clear and you can’t help but wonder why he never did more musical theater. You’ve followed his career, of course you have, and you’re proud to see what he’s accomplished, because you know how hard he’s worked to get there.

It’s your turn then and instead of butterflies it feels like there’s a herd of elephants stomping around in your stomach. You step up anyway, because, with the exception of the three professionals, they’ve all heard you sing before. You haven’t sung in a long time, but you still know how to carry a tune, although you never really take any risks, and so if anything your rendition errs a little on the boring side. Still, you make it through the song without any real struggles and at the end Adam praises the group, saying he’s impressed at everyone’s vocal capabilities.

Coy looks up from his seat then, where he’s been taking more notes ever since Nicole started singing, and informs you that they have decided to honor the original casting.

And so here you are, once again playing the Rizzo to Chris’ Kenickie.

The rest of the day passes by in a blur of read-throughs, choreography, and more singing, and even though you know you’ll be dead-tired once you get back to your hotel tonight, you also can’t help but feel excited. You never pursued a career in acting or performing and so Grease was both your first and last venture out into the theater world, but God, did you like it.

You’re a little lost in thoughts, watching a scene you’re not in from the side of the stage, thinking back on your days as a theater kid, when Chris comes up beside you, “How you holding up?”

You know what he wants you to say, because this has been your spiel whenever you found each other in the wings, but you just can’t get the words out, there’s eighteen years worth of pain and heartache that needs to be dealt with first. Instead, you keep looking straight ahead at the scene in front of you, shaking your head ever so slightly to let him know, what, you’re not exactly sure.

He takes a step back and doesn’t say anything else until it’s his turn to enter the stage.

There’s no time to unravel what the hell just happened because Nicole comes off stage and joins you then, gently bumping her hips against yours, “You ok, babe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“The ghost of my fifteen-year old self,” you mutter quietly. A little louder then, hoping she’ll let it go, “Don’t worry about it, Nic.”

“Well, at least no one’s gonna complain about the age difference between you two now,” she says with a grin, nodding towards the stage where Chris is going through his scene. She shakes her head, “God, I still can’t believe it was such an issue back then, only because he was, what? A year older?”

“Almost two,” you offer. You remember Mrs Linton pulling you aside to inform you there had been complaints about you being cast as Rizzo. She told you there were some people who were worried the age difference between you and Chris could be perceived as inappropriate, especially because you shared one very steamy makeout scene right before intermission, that went on for at least a few minutes. You were just a junior and so shocked to learn people had a problem with you that you offered to step down, but it turned out Mrs Linton was on your side, and she told you she’d kick your butt all the way back to second grade if you even so much as thought about letting them win.

You never found out who she meant by ‘them’ but you always thought Jessica Mullen, the girl playing Sandy, and Fiona Warren were behind all this. Jessica and Fiona were best friends, two of the most popular senior girls, and it was no secret Fiona had a huge crush on Chris back then. She also auditioned for the part of Rizzo, but Mrs Linton favored your approach to the character and so Fiona ended up being offered a role in the ensemble, which she declined with a temper-tantrum unprecedented by anything any two-year old has ever thrown.

Ultimately, as a compromise, Mrs Linton made you and Chris skip the makeout scene during rehearsals, which seemed to stop the protests somewhat. You've often wondered if she would have done things differently had she known Chris and you were already dating for two months by the time rehearsals started and so steamy make out sessions were part of your daily routine anyway. Then again, you always had the feeling she very much knew about your relationship and was just playing her part.

Nicole nudges you then, pulling you out of your memories, “It’s your cue, go!”

The producers thought it would be nice to have all of you go out to dinner after the first day back together, and so you find yourself at the Oak Barrel Tavern, sharing a table with Nicole, Johnny, Michael, Eric, and Chris, enjoying what everyone still considers to be the best burger in Sudbury. Funny how some things never change, you think, as you take a bite of your fries.

Except for you and Michael, the rest of the table all graduated in the same year and are already two beers deep into a play-by-play of the many senior stunts they pulled. You watch Chris as he animatedly tells the story of how he, Johnny, and Eric toilet papered the principal’s house the night before graduation. Two cameras circle your table and you are certain some part of this story will make it to air, because it’s too good not to. Johnny tries to chime in, but instead keeps letting out these roaring laughs whenever he remembers another detail of that night and you can’t help but smile at the familiarity of it all.

It’s strange, you think, how something as insignificant as performing a musical together made you form a bond with these people which even after nineteen years is still there. Sometimes you wonder if leaving Sudbury all those years ago really brought you the peace of mind you were looking for. Maybe you wouldn’t feel so restless now if you had just accepted that this would always be your hometown and this group of people would always be here. You realize then that there’s hardly been any catching up going on tonight and so you figure they must have all kept in touch in some way or another.

You and Eric get to talking then, during a lull in the conversation, and he easily admits that hadn’t it been for Chris he would have liked to asked you to go to Senior Prom with him, revealing that back then he had a major crush on you. Your cheeks heat up at his confession and you can’t help but glance at Chris, who quickly adverts his eyes when you do. Turning back to Eric you try to make a joke about how he should have, because at least then you would have had a date, but the moment the words leave your mouth the awkward silence that follows makes you wish you hadn’t said anything.

Chris throws you an angry look and Nicole just stares at you in disbelief, before coming to your rescue and telling everyone that it’s getting late and maybe it’s time to go home.

You throw her what you hope is a grateful smile and get up, following the rest of the group outside, where the same crew that fitted you with your mic this morning is waiting for you and so you hand everything back to them like they asked you to

With a wave and a, “Goodnight everyone,” you head towards your car, not completely surprised when Nicole catches up with you.

“What the hell was that?”

“I-” you shake your head, “I don’t know. It came out before I knew it.”

“Well,” she says as she puts her hand on your shoulder and kisses your cheek, “we’ll discuss it over dinner tomorrow night.”

“Can’t wait,” you answer, a hint of sarcasm in your voice even though you are in fact looking forward to it. “See you tomorrow, Nic.”

“Bye, babe,” she says as she opens her car door and lowers herself into her seat. You wait until she’s backed up out of her parking spot before you give her a little wave and continue on towards your car while you rummage through your purse to try and find the keys to your rental. You push the button needed to unlock the car and are about to open the door when you hear someone come up behind you. Of course. You let out a sigh, “I know what you’re gonna say-”

“You don’t,” he says, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and his foot kicking at the loose gravel near your tire. He looks up at you, his voice much softer when he says, “I can’t believe it’s been eighteen years, Ace.”

Hearing him use his old nickname for you sends a shiver down your spine and you hate how it brings back an onslaught of memories. You don’t say anything, just look at him, wondering where he’ll go with this.

“Eighteen years is a long time.” He looks up at you, a sadness to his eyes that would make you a little weak in the knees had it not been for his next words, “Do you think that maybe it’s time to leave the past behind us? Maybe we could just start over?”

“We could just- Sorry, what?” You open your mouth to say more but find yourself at a momentary loss for words after what he’s suggested and so you stand there gaping like a stupid fish, which makes you even more angry. You shake your head and get in your car, “Goodnight, Chris.”

The drive to your hotel only takes a couple of minutes, which means you’re still pretty upset when you get to your room. Your purse ends up being flung into a corner somewhere before you make your way to the minibar and grab all four of the miniature bottles of whiskey that are in there, taking them out onto the balcony with you. Downing the first makes your throat burn in not an entirely unpleasant way, although it does nothing to relieve you of your anger.

Putting your feet up on the railing you lean back in your chair, head resting against the wall, and uncap the second tiny bottle. To hell with your good intentions of going to bed early, you think, knowing you won’t be able to sleep now anyway.

Today’s run to the theater room is almost a carbon copy of yesterday’s, down to the Starbucks cup in your hand because they didn’t replace the coffee maker in your room like they said they would and of course you forgot to check. The only difference is that you have a pounding headache and might just be a tad hungover. Oh well, there’s a first time for everything, you think as you make your way down to the stage once they've put your mic on.

Nicole eyes you suspiciously but doesn’t say anything, although you do see her glance in Chris’ direction not much later, the rest of the group just nodding and some of them mumbling a “Good morning,” to you. Chris keeps his distance, probably thinks you’re still mad at him, which, you know, you are. Sort of, anyway. It sounded so casual when he suggested leaving the past behind you, like none of what happened matters anymore. Then again, maybe it doesn’t. It’s all just very confusing and you guess that’s what annoys you most of all.

Adam steps onto the stage then and tells you his plans for today, wanting to go through the songs in order, with choreography, for now not bothering with the scenes in between. It’s the only thing you’ll do today, except for some wardrobe fittings after lunch, and so he warns you it’s going to be grueling and that you won’t get to stop until everyone’s at least ninety percent there. A few more people come on stage and are introduced as the extras, professional actors who will make up the ensemble and help with the choreography where needed.

Your headache-induced bad mood helps you pull off ‘Look at Me, I’m Sandra Dee’ with an attitude your sixteen-year old self wishes she had and even ‘There Are Worse Things I Could Do’ goes as well as it could. But then ‘We Go Together’ has you paired up with Chris for the first time and it’s awkward, and stiff, and when Coy reminds you that Rizzo is no longer mad at Kenickie at this point, you just nod and try to put in some extra effort to make it seem like there’s nothing going on between you and Chris, wanting to get it over with.

Coy doesn’t comment on it any further, but pulls you and Chris aside at the end of the day, when the rest of the group is dismissed after what Kelly, the choreographer, deems "A great day of work."

Both you and Chris are sitting on the edge of the stage, Coy standing in front of you, looking from one to the other and back, almost as if he’s studying you. He waves his hand around then, “What am I missing here?”

You shrug and out of the corner of your eye you see Chris do the same. You can’t help but smile when you realize it’s still very much you two against the rest of the world, even now, even when you’re sort of fighting.

“Fine,” Coy says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you don’t have to tell me. I’m just sensing some history here that I hope won’t get in the way of your performance.” He looks up at you, “Don’t let this become about you two, ok? There are eight other people who deserve this to be a good show. So whatever it is, work it out.” And then, before you have a chance to respond, he walks away, muttering something that sounds like, “High school drama, man.”

Next to you, Chris sighs and looks at you, “Maybe he has a point.”

“Hmm,” you shrug in a very non-committed kind of way. Your headache has reappeared, and you’re tired, and honestly, you just want to get back to your hotel room and take a quick nap.

Chris seems unfazed by your attitude, like he always was, “We really should talk about it.” He jumps down from the stage, “Why don’t you come over? We could get some takeout and, I don’t know,-’

“Chris,” you scoff.

“You rather do this here?” He raises his eyebrows and nods towards the camera on your left, which, no doubt, is still rolling.

“I’d rather not do this at all right now,” you mutter quietly, although you know it’s not fair. A little louder then, “I’m having dinner with Nicole tonight, so-"

He just nods, “Fine,” even though his jaw sets in a way that tells you it’s anything but.

“Come in, come in!” Nicole steps aside to let you pass and tells you to walk straight ahead to the kitchen, where you are greeted by the rest of her family. Her husband introduces himself as Keith and tells you it’s great to finally meet you, before he points at the two little boys sitting at the table, “That’s Leo, and the other hooligan’s Robby.”

“I’m five!” Leo exclaims proudly, holding up four fingers.

You chuckle, “That’s awesome!”

“The boys wanted you to sit in between them,” Nicole says from somewhere behind you, “hope you don’t mind?”

“Are you kidding me?” You wink at Robby, who looks at you expectantly, “Best seat in the house.”

Dinner is spent catching up with Nicole, or trying to anyway, because Leo and Robby keep interrupting, wanting to tell you about anything and everything they deem important enough to share. Which, as it turns out, is a lot. After dessert, Nicole asks Keith to take the kids into the living room, because, as she puts it, “Mama needs some peace and quiet,” and so you find yourself, glass of wine in hand, on the back porch not much later.

“You have a gorgeous family, Nic,” you tell her before you take a sip of your wine. “It’s really nice to finally get to meet them.”

“Thank you.” A mischievous smile then, “So. You wanna tell me what’s going on between you and Evans?”

Never one to beat around the bush, you think and laugh, “Nothing’s going on, Nic.”

“Uhu,” is all she says in reply, folding her arms in front of her chest as she keeps looking at you, one eyebrow raised for good measure.

You just shake your head but her looking at you like that makes you a little nervous and so, against better judgement you offer, “It’s complicated.”

“Uhu,”

“It is,” you reply, your voice suddenly an octave higher. You hesitate for a moment, but then you figure she knows most of it already anyway, and so you turn in your seat so you can face her, “You know I haven’t spoken to him since we broke up, Nic, and I don’t know it’s- It’s weird.”

She nods, encouraging you to go on.

You sigh and rub your temple, “Eighteen years is a long time, Nic.”

“It is,” she agrees, “but maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet and at least try to be friends?” Her eyes grow kinder then, “You were always so good together.”

“I don’t know, I mean- And I know I keep saying this,” you hold up your hand when she starts to protest, “but it’s been such a long time. So much has happened. And none of it we went through together, you know? Does that even make sense?” You shrug and shake your head, “I guess our history together is both a blessing and a curse at this point.”

“You need to get out of your head, kid,” she offers with a stern look. “You’re setting this up for failure before it has even started.”

“This?”��

“Oh come on,” she shakes her head, “don’t tell me it never crossed your mind.” She sits up, “I’m going to ask you something and you need to swear on Bubbles’ life that you won’t give me some bullshit answer.”

“Nicole,” you gasp, hand to your heart in pretend shock, but laughing at the same time. “You want me to swear on Mrs Linton’s dead goldfish? That’s fu-” but then you hear the french doors open and see two little boys running towards and so you have to adjust quickly and throw her a look for good measure, “-funny. Super funny. Funny haha. You’re funny.”

Nicole lets out a laugh and throws you a wink before she holds out her arms and smothers her two boys in kisses once they jump onto her lap, “Goodnight my little rebels, I love you.”

A chorus of “I love you, mama,” makes you smile and you watch the boys run back inside where they give you a quick wave from behind the door before they disappear upstairs.

“So?” Nicole asks, as if nothing ever happened.

You glare at her, knowing she’ll never let it go, “Fine.”

“Would you have come back to Sudbury to do this show if it weren’t for Chris?”

You let your bottom lip roll between your teeth while you contemplate your reply, but of course you know the answer already. It wasn’t just for shits and giggles that you searched all the gossip sites for any information on his relationship status when you first agreed to do this. And so you shake your head, “No.”

“You know I told Keith I wasn’t sure you’d even come back, right?” Nicole shakes her head, “After all you’ve been through after you and Chris- You know-”

“Yeah,”

“I still have all your letters,” she confesses with a smile. “Every single one of them.”

“Nic-”

“It was my way of keeping you close,” she says and shrugs. She tries to act as if it’s no big deal, but her voice catches on the last word and when she tries to smile it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She clears her throat, “I’m just glad to have you back.”

They’ve replaced the coffee machine in your room while you were out yesterday and so there’s no running towards the theater room once you make it to Lincoln-Sudbury this morning. You walk through the hallways at a leisurely pace, enjoying how much everything still looks the same, down to the blue color of the lockers lining the wall.

You’re actually a little early and so you’re one of the first to arrive, only finding Johnny and Michael on stage. Michael insists you give the secret handshake another go and you can’t help but laugh when you nail it on the first try this time.

Johnny gently pats your back, “It’s really good to have you back, kid.” He runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest at the base of his neck and looking a little flustered, “We always wondered what happened to you, you know, after you and Chris broke up and you left Sudbury-”

“Thanks, Johnny,” you reply with a smile, “that means a lot.”

“But you’ve been good?” Michael asks.

You nod, “I am now. It’s good to be back.”

The door opens then and you see Chris and Jessica walk in together, Jessica telling him something that makes him laugh and all of a sudden you feel a pang of jealousy that you’re not necessarily proud of. You try to get back into the conversation with Michael and Johnny, but they’re talking about last night’s football game and so you just stand there, trying your hardest not to stare as Chris and Jessica step onto the stage. Before it can get awkward though, the rest of the group walks in and so all of a sudden there are nine people surrounding you and your attention is diverted elsewhere.

Nicole waves at you from the other side of the stage and you smile back at her, mouthing a, “Morning,” at her.

Coy, Adam, and Kelly walk in next, followed by the ensemble, and not much later you find yourself reciting your lines over and over again because Coy wants to do a complete runthrough of the show this afternoon to prepare for the two dress rehearsals planned for tomorrow.

You find Chris on the side of the stage in between scenes and stand beside him, not saying anything because you’re so nervous you don’t even trust your own voice right now. But, you promised Nicole you’d do this, promised her you would try to make things right, and so here you are, reaching for his hand, your finger’s brushing against his skin before you gently tap the inside of his wrist four times. Tap-tap-tap-tap.

Meet me after practice

It’s been nineteen years since either of you last used this shorthand, but he must remember what it means because he nods in reply.

You wait for him in what used to be your usual spot, all the way in the back of the parking lot where there’s a bench tucked away in the tree line. It’s been a while since you were dismissed by Coy and you worry he might not show up making your stomach turn.

Letting your eyes fall to the ground you distract yourself by trying to get your breathing under control, hoping it will help you calm your nerves. When you look up again you can’t help but smile, because there he is, walking towards you and looking just as nervous as you feel, “Hi,”

“Hey,”

“Listen, Chris-” you start, just as he says something that you don’t quite catch. He nods for you to go first and so you clear your throat and start again, “You were right. We should talk-”

“Come again?” He grins, “Did you just tell me I’m right, Ace?”

You stare at him, shaking your head, but there’s a smile playing on your lips because this is the best response you could have gotten and so you shrug, “I guess I did.”

“I guess you did,” he echoes. A little more serious then, “What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, because honestly you didn’t think this far ahead, “maybe grab a bite to eat somewhere?”

He smiles apologetically, “I have somewhere I need to be tonight, but why don’t we do this tomorrow? That way we can both think things over a little and-”

“I’d like that,” you admit easily.

“You want to come over to my place or should I book a table somewhere?”

Biting your lip you weigh the pros and cons, quickly realizing you much rather have this conversation in the privacy of his home than somewhere in a restaurant and so you nod, “I’ll come over.” You give him your phone number and watch as he saves it in his phone, smiling when he puts you in as ‘Ace’.

He pockets his phone when he’s done, “So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah,” you nod. It’s a little awkward then and so you turn around, a quick wave over your shoulder to tell him goodbye.

You hear your name being called from somewhere behind you when you walk from your car to the entrance of the school and can’t help but smile when you see Nicole hurry to catch up with you. You kiss her cheek once she joins you, “Morning.”

“Hi, gorgeous,” she beams back, “you excited about today or what?”

“Dress rehearsal?” You shrug, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Uhu,”

You raise your eyebrows and look at her as you push the double door leading into the building open, unsure if she’s saying what you think she’s saying. You shake your head when she starts laughing, “How do you even know?”

“I didn’t,” she holds up her hands to let you know she’s telling the truth, “but I saw you in the parking lot together after practice yesterday and I just figured, you know, maybe you kept your word about wanting to work things out with him. And then you totally gave it away just now, so-”

“I hate you,” you mutter quietly as you pick up your pace.

“You love me,” she counters, easily catching up with you. “And you’re going to tell me exactly what you’ve got planned for tonight.”

Like he promised, Coy wants you to run through the entire show at least twice today, choreography, outfits changes and all, and so you take your place, not particularly looking forward to all the dancing. The first half of the show goes as well as it could, although Johnny keeps forgetting his lines, and Jessica takes too long whenever she has to do an outfit change, and ok, fine, you mess up the choreography more than you care to admit too.

When you finally get to the part right before intermission, where you and Chris have to make out for at least two minutes, Nicole is quick to inform Coy that you never rehearsed that scene when you first performed the show, and wouldn’t it be great if you didn’t do it this time around either? Coy seems interested as to why and so Nicole gives him an abridged version, and to your surprise he quickly agrees to skip the scene until the show tomorrow, because, as he reasons, it will add some drama.

A quick glance at Chris earns you a wink from him and you know he’s probably just as relieved as you are.

You find Nicole in the dressing room not much later, where she’s getting fitted for her Frenchy wig and when you walk up to her all you say is, “Thank you.”

She nods in response, “Of course.”

At the end of the day you’ve run through the show almost three times and Coy seems somewhat confident that you’ll manage to pull it off tomorrow. He has some kind words for everyone and tells you all to get a good night’s sleep and to meet back again here tomorrow afternoon at five, for a last dinner together.

Chris texts you his address after practice and tells you he’ll have dinner ready around seven, with a smiley face at the end that lets you know he’s just as nervous about this as you are. It’s funny how easily you can still read him after all these years, you think, as you connect your phone to its charger before you hop in the shower.

Your outfit of choice is simple and not too dressed up, but still nice enough for whatever this is. Definitely not a date, you think, but then again, maybe it is. You grab your phone and purse before you head out, nerves suddenly taking over and for a moment you wonder if you should just cancel. You’re going back to Philadelphia on Sunday anyway, so maybe it’s better to just leave things the way they are, you reason. You give yourself a very stern talking to then, because you can’t keep running away from this. You’ve been doing that for the past eighteen years and look where that’s gotten you. No, time to get some closure, you decide as you close your hotel room door behind you and head downstairs to your car.

You pull up to a heavy iron gate about fifteen minutes later, only the roof of his house visible from the road. Pushing the call button you tap your steering wheel to the beat of the song that’s playing on the radio until he answers with a kind, “Hi.”

“Hey,” you reply with a smile and watch as the gate opens in front of you. After about half a mile the house comes into full view and you let out a quiet, “Wow,” because it really is a beautiful farmhouse. You park your car next to his not much later and just as you step outside his front door opens and a dog comes running towards you.

“Dodger, sit,” Chris says from where he’s standing on the front porch and the dog does as it's told.

“Hi cutie,” you say as you walk up to the dog and scratch behind its ears, “hi.” It gives you a moment to take a deep breath, because you’re so nervous it feels like there are hundreds of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach right now.

Dodger runs back to Chris then and so you follow him, meeting Chris on the steps, where he holds out his arm and pulls you in for a side hug, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Chris,” you protest quietly, although you don’t really want him to let go either.

“I know,” he whispers, “I know. I’m just glad you’re here.” He lets go then and motions for you to follow him inside. He leads you through the house to the kitchen, where the opened French doors reveal a large deck where a table has been set for two.

“Come on,” he says and walks outside where he pulls out a chair for you, “sit down. I’ll be right back.”

You watch him walk back into the kitchen, curious to find out what he’s up to but then Dodger sits down next to you and gently puts his paw on your knee to let you know he’d like some more scratches, thank you very much and so you don’t really see Chris come back with two glasses of champagne until he puts one down in front of you.

He sits down on the opposite side of the table before he raises his glass and smiles, “It’s good to have you back.”

“Yeah,” you reply, before you clink your glass against his and take a sip.

Dinner’s a little awkward, both of you not quite ready to stray away from the small talk and so you mostly just tell him what you’ve been up to these past eighteen years, albeit it a slightly abridged version. No need to tell him about how you’ve never really seemed to have been able to find your place in the world and still feel like an outsider everywhere you go just yet.

He tells you about his career, how much everything has changed once he agreed to play Captain America, and how he secretly would like to do more behind the camera from now on. Maybe step away from the spotlight a little because he still gets these bouts of anxiety and your heart goes out to him because you remember how much he struggled in high school.

To lighten the mood you tease him about doing this show because it seems so small in comparison to what he’s been doing, but he assures you he never even had to think about it when they asked him to take part.

“I’m guessing you were a little more hesitant?”

You nod, “I was.”

He doesn’t push it any further and you’re grateful for that.

You offer to help him clear the plates after he suggests to maybe move things inside because it’s getting colder. It takes two trips to the kitchen to clear the table and once again you compliment him on the amazing pasta dish he tells you he made from scratch. You believe him, only because you know his mother taught him well and you fondly remember her cooking.

He tells you to make yourself at home while he clears away the last things and so you find yourself in his living room, smiling when you see the wall filled with family pictures. Most of them are recent, but there’s one of him and his brother Scott that you know for a fact was taken at his parents’ house right before Chris’ Senior prom. You know this because you were the one that took it. And because you were his date.

“That was a good night,”

You look over your shoulder to see him walk towards you, holding a glass of whiskey in each hand, and can’t help but smile, “It was.”

He hands you one of the glasses and touches it with his then, “To all the good memories.”

“Chris-”

“I know,” he says, “but it wasn’t all bad, Ace.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree easily. “It was good, Chris, right up until the very end.”

“Yeah, about that-” He clears his throat before he speaks again, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. For everything.”

You want to tell him that it’s ok, that it was no big deal, that maybe you overreacted at the time, but you guess you both know that’s not true and so you just say, “Thank you.”

He nods.

You take a sip of your drink then, relishing in the way it burns your throat, as a welcome distraction to the tears that have started to form in your eyes. You let your gaze drift back to the same picture when you say, “I wish you would have just told me.”

He lowers his head, “I know.”

“That’s what hurt me the most,” you swallow back a fresh set of tears. “Because it wasn’t so much that you couldn’t make it to my Senior prom, I mean, I understood working on your first movie was more important at the time but- To find out you were at some random B-list celebrity’s party- And not because you told me, but because someone shoved a magazine with your picture in it under my nose-” you shake your head trying to rid yourself of the memories, but failing -”draped over some girl.” You lift your glass and put it to your lips, fully intending to finish whatever’s left in one go.

He starts to say something but you hold up one finger to let him know you’re not done yet. A tear rolls down your cheek and you’re not sure if it’s because of the whiskey or because of everything else, but it doesn’t really matter anyway. There’s something you have to admit, “Maybe I should have reacted differently, or at least given you a chance to explain, but I-” a sob escapes you then, “I was so angry. So hurt. For me breaking up right then and there was the only thing that made sense.” Another tear spills over but you don’t even try to wipe it away, knowing more will follow soon. Instead you let out a humourless laugh, “But then suddenly every single thing in Sudbury reminded me of you and every memory was like a knife to the heart, and so I had to- I just had to leave.”

He nods and from the corner of your eye you see him run a hand through his hair.

“Turns out it hurt all the same no matter where I was,” you continue softly, “but it took me years to figure that out.” You clear your throat, trying to find the right words. Yes, it still hurts, but maybe it’s time to let the past be the past. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry too, Chris. I should have-”

“Don’t,” he says, his voice kind. “There are a lot of things we both could have done differently, but we were still so young and, I don’t know, I think we both did what we thought was best. We can’t change what happened,” he turns towards you, “and I don’t want to make excuses for what I did, because,” he clears his throat, “it would be far too little, far too late.” He lowers his eyes, “All I know is that it’s been eighteen years and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you.”

“Chris-”

He looks back up at you and smiles, “It’s my turn now, Ace.” A hand on your arm then, his touch soft and a gentle squeeze to let you know what he’s going to say next is important, “I know there’s still a lot left unsaid, but we’ll get there, eventually. And this might sound crazy, and I’m not saying we should forget what happened but, I don’t know, maybe we could try to start over and just see where it leads us. What do we have to lose?”

You let the weight of his words sink in, wondering if you are able to just forgive and forget this easily. It’s then you remember admitting to Nicole that you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Chris and the possibility to get some closure and so you agree with a quiet, “I’d like that.”

He seems a little unsure of himself then, so you put down your glass and take his hands in yours, draping them over your shoulders before you wrap your arms around his waist. He holds you tight, presses a soft kiss to your temple that feels maybe like the most intimate thing he’s ever done, and quietly whispers, “I’ve missed you, Ace.”

He offers you his guest bedroom after another round of whiskey and some smalltalk, because somehow you’re both still hesitant to open up completely. It’s ok, you tell yourself, you’ll get there eventually and there’s no need to rush. You find yourself in the ensuite bathroom not much later, putting on one of his Patriots shirts to act as your pyjamas for the night. It’s all a bit surreal and you’re grateful you’re on the opposite side of the house, because it would be too weird otherwise, even though you know that doesn’t really make sense either.

Sleep comes surprisingly easy once you’re under the covers and so the next thing you know there’s a knock on your door and for a moment you’re confused because this isn’t your hotel room. You hear his familiar chuckle on the other side then before he lets you know breakfast is ready if you’re up for it and it’s then you remember where you are.

You take a quick shower before you make your way to the kitchen where you find him leaning against the counter top, enjoying a cup of coffee, Dodger at his feet. He pushes a full cup towards you and smiles at you from over his, “Morning.”

“Morning,”

“Sleep well?”

“I did, yeah,” you admit, even though it still surprises you. You pick up the steaming hot cup and wrap your hands around it, the smell of freshly brewed coffee waking you up even more.

He motions to the kitchen island where there’s a plate of pastries, “I got you some Danish,” he almost looks embarrassed then, running a hand through his hair, “you used to like those, right?”

“I did.” You’re quick to correct yourself, “I do. Thank you.”

“You got any plans for today?”

You shrug, “Not really, maybe drive around a bit to do some sightseeing, you know, see how much has changed over the years.” You grab a pastry then and immediately Dodger’s attention shifts from Chris to you.

“No,” Chris warns him and Dodger’s quick to lie down again. “Good boy.” He looks back at you, “Until when are you here?”

You’ve just taken a bite and so it takes a while before you answer, “I’m flying back on Sunday.”

“To?”

“To Philadelphia.”

He nods appreciatively, “That’s not too far.”

You spend a few hours driving around the area, thankful that he didn’t ask if he could come. You guess you both needed some time alone.

The trip down memory lane is nice, but after a few stops you don’t really know where else to go and so you drive back to your hotel, where you have a few hours left until you need to get ready. You kick off your shoes once you’re inside your room and sit down on the tiny balcony before you fish your phone out of your back pocket and call Nicole, who picks up on the first ring.

“Tell me everything!”

“Hi Nicole, how are you,” you mock, but can’t help but laugh. “Lovely weather today, isn’t it? Are you excited for tonight?”

“I hate you,”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” she agrees, “but you better start talking, babe, or else.”

And so you do. You tell her about dinner, about the talk you and Chris had after, about how you spent the night, laughing when you hear her curse quietly after you’ve told her nothing happened, and how you and Chris agreed to start over.

“Oh honey,” is all she says, but you know exactly what she means.

#Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans fanfic #Harley Sunday x Chris Evans #Chris Evans #Encore

69 notes · View notes

dualnaturedscientist · 10 months ago

Note

That would've deterred anyone else yet Eudora was unfazed by what had just happened. She simply wiped at her face before resuming what she had set out to do. Of course he would've said that, she wasn't as naive as others were. How could someone like him change so drastically? Maddrix could fool everyone else but he wasn't going to trick her so easily. Eudora smirked instead of losing her composure. "Do you truly think I believe any of that? Can you honestly admit that you've felt absolutely no pleasure in what you've done? Since I'm asking questions, since when was it illegal to speak to someone in public? It is my first time speaking with you. So I don't see how it's harassment. I didn't threaten either of you with violence. Though I'm sure that one is definitely thinking about it. Though if you truly meant what you said, you've become quite a disappointment. Become so soft. Hah! Threatening to call the cops on me. That's a good one. Especially coming from Mr. Maddrix the malicious. I suppose you're keeping up with this facade of yours. If you do want to think over your options, here's my card." Eudora dug into her purse and took out a business card. Placing it into Matthew's hands before strutting off. Thankfully for the two, she was heading in the opposite direction. Matthew stared at the card with a dumbfounded expression. The whole interaction made him feel even more shaken up. His face was pale. What was wrong with that woman? Not even a reaction to his sneezing directly in her face. Just looking at him with that infuriating and blood chilling smirk of hers. Carl wanted to rip the woman a new one yet only held himself back. Knowing that Matthew wouldn't want any altercation happening. The former villain was still on thin ice. It wouldn't do any good to resort to violence, even if it was to defend Matthew. Instead he did the next best thing he could think of. Carl took hold of the business card, without even taking one look at it he tore it up into tiny pieces. Flinging the pieces in the rather unsettling woman's direction. The former villain wanted nothing more than just to get home. Sit down on the couch and mindlessly watch some television with his husband and not think about what just happened. Carl took hold of his hand, leading Matthew to the bus station to wait for their bus. It wouldn't be long before it would arrive. It was obvious what was going on in Matthew's mind. It pained Carl to see him so affected by this. Making his already negative feelings about Eudora even worse. “I'll make sure she doesn't bother you again. If she won't take your threat seriously, I'll make her take it seriously. If she continues to do so, the police will deal with her. You can get a restraining order against that woman as well to ensure that she stays away.” The former villain gave a small but not very convincing smile. “Don't pay any mind to her nuttiness.” Matthew was silent for a moment before speaking. “It's not that I'm worried she'll keep pestering me. What worries me is that she's genuinely serious about this. What if she does end up doing something similar to the massacre? What if she does something even worse? That I would be the one to inspire that. Even though I'm no longer a villain. That I'm atoning for what I've done. She could still do something horrible and I would be the reason that woman did it. The way that woman praised me for it. That wasn't right. That wasn't right at all.” Carl soon wrapped his arms around his husband, holding him tightly. “It would be her own actions that would cause it. She probably would've chosen anyone else to fuel her sick twisted fantasy. I won't allow her to mess with your mind anymore than she already had. You're not the monster she made you out to be. She's the one who's twisted. Please don't let her bother you anymore. Let's just enjoy the rest of our evening, alright?” Matthew was silent for a moment before answering. “Alright. I'll try. Though please don't try to fight her if she does end up coming around. I don't want you in jail or hurt.”

Heart of chaos

A year had passed since the B.E.A.W Labs organization had fallen. Since all the events had taken place. Becky being taken along with Bob. The poor girl being experimented on by a cruel scientist who had no love for anyone but himself. Matthew had broken out of the facility with her, Carl and Steven. Gene's true identity being revealed along with losing his Dr.Two-Brains persona. Shocking revelations unfolded. Betrayals and redemption. Things had calmed down significantly since but that didn't mean life had been dull. It certainly wasn't for Fair City. Especially with the villains, heroes and its eccentric inhabitants livening up the city. Becky had been making a wonderful recovery. Though she still wasn't at her full recovery Becky was still making so much more progress than the year prior. Gene still had identity issues, dealing with the loss of Squeaky. Though he didn't go through it alone. The still mad scientist had his family and friends help him through everything. Matthew and Carl took up residency within the city. A house that wasn't too far from their sons. Life in this place was definitely lively and peaceful in comparison to the hellish place many innocent souls were imprisoned in. Matthew was less exhausted than before. Relaxing within the living room in his son's house, watching whatever was put on the television. Matthew felt his eyes beginning to droop. Sleepiness hitting him out of nowhere. He simply allowed himself to doze off, not fighting it. Knowing that he was safe there. It wasn't until he felt weight on him that Matthew opened his eyes. Usually a dog or cat would be the cause for this but Matthew met many eyes. Fluffy had snuck into the house yet again. A small warm smile spread across his facial features, patting the spider on its head. Fluffy leaned into Matthew's hand, making soft happy noises. It was funnily cute to him. Though he understood as to why Gene was so afraid of him. Even Carl was squeamish around the giant spider. “Aw, who's a good boy? You are! You're a good boy!” Matthew couldn't help but baby talk the arachnid. He looked up, wriggling his chelicerae in response. As to say ‘Me! I'm a good boy!’ He chuckled at that, giving Fluffy gentle scritches. It was like a huge puppy in a spider's body. Though the peacefulness was interrupted by a sudden shout. “NO! WHY IS IT HERE AGAIN?!” Gene was in the doorway of the living room. Looking quite terrified at the huge arachnid. Fluffy instantly moved around on Matthew's lap to look at Gene. Excitedly jumping off of the supervillain's lap in favor of his son. He bolted right for the mad scientist, causing him to yelp loudly and make a run for it. “SOMEONE KEEP THAT ABOMINATION AWAY FROM ME!” Matthew gave a small laugh. “Can't help but feel abit rejected there.” Archie, who was quiet until then, responded. “I know that feeling.” This caused Matthew to jump up startled. “Don't do that! I'm old. Also I could accidentally blast you.” Archie blinked in confusion. “You didn't notice me? I came in with Fluffy. He got loose and snuck into the house. I just came to bring him back before he got to Gene. Too late for that now.” Archie frowned. “I can't help but be jealous at how much Fluffy loves him. Though Gene is terrified of him. That spider just won't listen to me when it comes to his favorite person.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “You want me to help you?” Matthew was being genuine with his question. He didn't want his son dying of fright from the giant arachnid. “That would be greatly appreciated. I have to take him back home. He can't avoid taking his medication this time.” Matthew got up, stretching first before doing anything else. This earned him a strange look from Archie. “What? I said I'm old. If I don't stretch I'll pull a muscle.” The hero shrugged. “Let's go get him soon. I have to look after Charlotte as well.” Archie always had the brightest smile when Charlotte was brought up. Either by him, Sunshine or anyone else. It was sweet. “Alright, alright.” They were completely unaware of an enemy observing them. Waiting.

Miss Power growled in frustration at the display she was witnessing through a window to the Boxleitner or rather the Woods household. A display she thought was very disgusting. How badly the alien conqueror wanted to charge right in their and obliterate everyone in her sights. She couldn't do her usual tactics and tricks right now, not after what she learned after coming back. She was still ticked off after that little alien brat Wordgirl and her parents dupe and tricked her into leaving the planet in defeat. There was no way she could go back to her planet and face her people with such a shameful stain to her otherwise brilliant record. Fueled by revenge and hatred, Miss Power spent her time preparing, training, and waiting so she could exact her revenge against those who wronged her, against the little hybrid girl and her freak of a family that humiliated her. Sadly when Miss Power and her loyal sidekick Colonel Gigglecheeks did decide to return, they were not prepared for the recent changes that had happeend in their absence. Miss Power did not care much for this Darius person or B.E.A.W labs, she had seen those like them a dime a dozen before on other worlds. The alien wished she could have congratulated the person who tortured and dehumanized Wordgirl and her sidekick. If it was up to her, Professor Ross Moran would receive high honors among her people for his actions. She did give her condolences at his unmarked gravestone. While the recent trauma Wordgirl and her sidekick have suffered gave Miss Power an opportunistic advantage, the alien conquerer unfortunately could not risk using it especially with her grandfather around. Miss Power was amazed at hearing about the past and recent exploits of Maddrix the Malicious. She was shocked that someone so bloodthirsty and powerful was the father of that scientist who used to have a mouse brain attached to his skull as well as a weird cheese obsession. To her disappointment, Miss Power could clearly see the man was too human and had regretted his actions in the past. Actions that would have made him highly respected among her people despite him being human. Still Miss Power wasn't going to risk striking back while that old coot was still alive. Age did not always equate to weakness according to what she had been taught. Even though he was old, Maddrix was clearly still powerful. It was likely that her and Gigglecheeks would wind up dead by the man's hands before they could claim revenge and victory. A chittering sound snapped Miss Power out of her musings. She turned her head to see her sidekick give her a concerned look. He chittered again and asked 'So what are we going to do?' Miss Power smiled and scratched her sidekick's head which he enjoyed. "Don't worry Colonel Gigglecheeks. We'll get our revenge soon. We just need to learn more about Mr. Malicious and what weaknesses he might have so we can use it to defeat him." Miss Power cooed. She then took her sidekick and flew off without anyone being the wiser. Miss Power was brash and bold and could be tricked sometimes, but she was no fool. The alien conqueror learned long ago that the best way to win your battles was to be prepared and know your enemy more than they know themselves. Carl sighed with relief and slight exhaustion as he sat down in a comfy chair. He had just finished sweeping the floor of his and Matthew's home. Now all he had to do was sit and relax until his husband got home. Carl wanted to try a nice 'mom and pop' owned restaurant that one of Gene's friends, Chuck, had recommended to the man. Carl had been itching to get out and do something more and more recently. If he had to be honest, he was getting bored. In the past, Carl had his job and work as a scientist to keep him occupied along with spending time with his husband and kids. Unfortunately after his 20 year imprisonment, Carl couldn't step in another official science lab ever again without a severe anxiety and panic attack @dualnaturedscientist

103 notes · View notes

somerandomdutchfangirl · 3 years ago

Text

Hetalia Family Week - Day 1: Hobbies

This is my entry for @hetafamilyweek day 1 - hobbies (and hugs)

Summary: They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

This has also been posted to my a03!

Disclaimer: the opinions of the characters aren’t necessarily the authors opinion. Also, some of the sentences have been translated with Google Translate. If there is any mistake, please let me know and I'll fix as soon as possible! The translations are at the end.

Names used:

Willem = Netherlands

Femke = Belgium

Laurent = Luxembourg

Antonio = Spain

Matthew = Canada

Abel = Holland, @starflight-blog oc

Sjoerd = Friesland, @starflight-blog oc

Lieke = Groningen, @starflight-blog oc

Relevant headcanons time!

- Femke owns a cat named Mika

- Matthew and Willem are married (see end notes for more info)

- Matthew uses he/they pronouns

:readmore:

They didn't have time for family hangouts often, with them being nations and all that, but whenever they did, it was safe to say it was the most fun any of them would have that week.

Sometimes, they would just go for a coffee or lunch or have a picnic. Other times, they would binge-watch a series while cuddling on the couch. And then, there were times like this.

"Can't you two sit still for like five minutes? If you want this painting to actually look good, you're gonna have to let me actually have time to paint you!"

"What if we want it to look like Picasso?"

"Laurent, hoepel een eind op, Picasso sucks and so do his paintings."

"Don't let Antonio hear you say that."

"Antonio can go fuck himself."

"Guys, let's keep this fun, alright? I want to enjoy this day," Femke chimed in. Willem huffed but didn't complain further. Laurent grinned and continued composing a piece for the harp standing next to him.

(When Laurent had led them towards his "inspiration room" as he liked to call it, which was just a room filled with instruments, art supplies and more, both siblings had been filled with dread at the thought of Laurent playing the tuba, or god forbid, the trombone. Willem had said: "Laurent, I swear to god, if you're going to play the tuba or the trombone, I'm going to throw both you and the instrument out of the nearest window." To which Laurent had been a smartass and replied, "Can you even lift all that weight though?" That had ended up in a chase through the house that ended when Femke tackle-hugged both.)

The comfortable silence continued for a while, broken only by the occasional sigh from one of the siblings or Laurent trying the piece on the harp.

"Hey, Fem," Laurent walked up to her while he was taking a quick break, "What're you making?"

"Well, I'm trying to embroider our pets, but this stitch just won't work, godverdomme-"

"Maybe you should take a break and come back to it later? It's getting late anyway, we should eat dinner soon," Laurent suggested. Femke nodded. When no conformation came from Willem, they turned to him.

"Hey, earth to Willem! Did you hear what we just said?" Laurent asked, walking up to him and quickly stopping next to him. "Nondikass!" He exclaimed. "Willem, that looks amazing! How'd you do that in such a short time?!"

Femke, now curious, walked up to her brothers and peeked over their shoulders. "What the fuck, Willem," she gaped at the painting in front of her. It was clearly her and Laurent doing their respective hobbies, with beautiful lighting and background. The vibrant colours of the front of the painting was a stark contrast to the background, which had much softer tones. "You told us you were rusty! What part of this is rusty?!"

Willem, who was now looking more like a tomato, opened his mouth, no doubt to point out all the things that were wrong with it, but Laurent cut him off. "Nope, Mr. Perfectionist, you're not pointing out all the imperfections of this, and that's final. This is a masterpiece, seriously. Don't give me that look!"

"You know," Femke mused, "I might actually hang this in my house once it's dry."

"Guys," Willem said, flustered, "It's not that good. Really. Thanks for the compliments, but-"

"No buts!" Femke exclaimed at the same time Laurent yelled: "Not that good?!"

"Yeah, it's... the colour's off, the perspective is weird, and-"

"I am this close to actually strangling you with your scarf, Willem," Femke cut him off, her hands on her hips. "So what if it isn't perfect? That doesn't make it look any less amazing! I'll tell you what, we're gonna take a break, then we're going to come back here, and you'll see how amazing this actually looks."

Willem looked at her for a few seconds before sighing. "Fine..."

"Now don't go around brooding like that, it's no fun," Laurent said while shooting Femke a quick thumbs-up. Femke grinned.

"Now, come on! I'll make waffles!"

---

"Hey, Matthew replied!" Laurent exclaimed, effectively cutting off Willems' story on the antics of Abel and Sjoerd.

(Apparently, they had gotten into a fight over who had the most creative curse words. This had ended in Abel singing along to the curse word song in Dutch, until Lieke walked in. Sjoerd had promptly slapped a hand over Abel's mouth to stop him from ‘tainting Lieke's innocence’. It was weird.)

"What do you mean?" Willem asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, dearest brother of mine," Laurent replied with a shit-eating grin, which did absolutely nothing to ease Willem's worries. "Because you didn't seem too convinced by us literally shouting how amazing your painting was, we decided to send a picture to Matthew-"

"You what?!"

"-to see what he thinks of it," Laurent continued, unfazed. "Since, you know, you seem to care a lot about what they think, about as much as you care about what we think? I mean I would hope so, considering we're your siblings, but-"

"You're getting off track, Laurent," Femke cut him off. "Anyway, we figured that if anyone other than us would manage to convince you that your painting is amazing, it's gonna be Matthew."

"I-"

"Don't even try to deny it. We went to your wedding, remember? We know how much you care about him. Which is a good thing, by the way. So, Laurent, what did they say?"

"Well, there's an all-caps keysmash, followed by an all-caps 'what?!'. Scratch that, basically everything is in caps. So, the general train of thought is 'what the fuck, this is beautiful, how the fuck did he do this, he calls this rusty?!' And finally, 'I love it 10/10 would hang in my living room and/or show off to my family and friends. It's beautiful and I'll physically fight him on that.'"

"Awww, that's so sweet! See, Willy, your painting truly is amazing!" Femke, sporting a somehow genuine but shit-eating grin, patted her brother on the back. Said brother had his head in his hands and may or may not be crying.

"I hate you two," came the muffled reply with no real heat behind it. Femke and Laurens laughed.

"We love you too, you softie! Now come on, who's ready to spend more time together!" Femke cheered, already halfway across the room.

---

"Jezus Christus, Femke, that looks amazing!" Willem said, looking at the embroidery his sister had made. It pictured their pets, Pelutze, Mika, and Nijntje.

"Aww, thanks Willem!"

"Wait, let me see- wow, sis, this is really good! I love it!"

"Thank you, Lau! By the way, is your composition nearly finished? I want to hear it!"

"Me too, actually."

"Well, it's not done yet, but I can play what I have so far?"

"Yes please!" Femke smiled.

Laurent sat down and started playing the piece of music he had written on the harp. Moving his fingers delicately along the strings, the beautiful melody carried along the room. Once he was done, he looked up.

"So... what did you think- Femke are you okay?!"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just... it's so beautiful!" Femke cried, flinging herself at Laurent and crushing him in a hug.

"I agree with Femke, it was wonderful," Willem chimed in, walking over to his siblings. Femke quickly included him in the hug.

"You two are so talented, what the hell!"

"Fem, you're crushing me," Laurent gasped. "And don't you dare exclude yourself, have you seen what you just made?!"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, remember," Willem said, parroting her words back to her with a smirk.

"Why are you like this?"

Willem laughed at this. "You still love me despite it, though!"

"That's not an answer!"

"Is it not?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Guys, please stop. This is a stupid argument," Laurent rolled his eyes.

"Rolling your eyes at us? How rude, Lau," Willem said, locking him in a headlock and ruffling his hair.

"Hey, let me go!"

"Hmmm, let's see... Nope."

"Oh, come on! Fem, help me out here!"

Femke just laughed in response.

"Betrayal!" Laurent screeched, struggling to get out of his brother's headlock. Femke just laughed harder in response, almost falling over.

"You know, you could always just say the magic word to get out."

"The magic- What am I, five?"

"You certainly act like it sometimes."

"Fëck dech."

"Real mature, Laurent."

"Oh, like asking for the magic word is so mature."

"Absolutely. I haven't heard it yet, by the way. Femke, are you doing alright?" Willem asked, as his sister was now lying on the floor, tears streaming down her face. Gasping for air, she shook no.

"Seems like you'd better let me go before we make Femke choke," Laurent commented. Willem tsk-ed.

"Fine, fine. Fem, get up," he said, letting Laurent out of the headlock and extending a hand towards Femke.

"Give- give me a... minute," she said, still gasping for air. After she managed to get enough air in her lungs and not burst out laughing after she saw her brothers standing in front of her with worried (albeit semi-irritated) looks, she finally took Willem's offered hand.

"You two are utter morons."

Willem gasped. "Are you hearing this, Laurent? Slander, complete and utter slander!"

"Well, she's right about one of us, and it isn't me."

"Laurent, ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt-"

"Try me, old man-"

"Who're you calling old you little-"

''Oh for- hou uw bakkes! If this becomes another argument, I will smother both of you!''

''You wouldn't dare,'' Willem said. After a beat of silence and a fierce glare from Femke, he added: ''Would you?''

''I don't know, why don't you find out?''

''Fem, you're scaring me a bit here,'' Laurent said nervously. Femke hummed. Laurent looked at Willem, wide-eyed. Willem just looked back and shrugged.

''Could you even reach me though?'' Willem, who apparently had a death wish, asked.

Femke whipped around, glaring at her brother. Willem just glared back.

''Guys, no, no one's getting killed today,'' Laurent interjected. ''This is supposed to be a fun family meeting, remember? If there's any way anyone's going down,'' he added on, a devilish grin on his face as he slowly inched closer to his still glaring siblings, ''It's going to be this way!'' he yelled as he quickly poked Willem in his side, who immediately yelped and tried to get away. To no avail, because Femke quickly latched onto his arm and started poking him in his side too.

''No, Fem, wait- What did I do to deserve this?!''

''Well, uh... you took the last waffle?''

''Are you asking me, or-'' Willem started to ask, then yelped again as his siblings started to tickle him.

''No! Please, mercy!''

''Hmmm, Lau, what do you think? Should we stop?'' Femke asked, looking at her younger brother.

''I don’t know, Fem,'' Laurent answered back, devilish grin still on his face. ''He hasn’t said the magic word yet.''

''Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! Laurens, stop!''

''Hmm, let me think. Nee.''

Femke snickered. ''He looks like a worm, wiggling like that.''

''How the fuck-''

''Oh my god you're so right,'' Laurent said. ''Willem the worm,'' he started to say, but burst out laughing halfway through. Femke laid on top of Willem, wheezing. Willem, meanwhile, looked absolutely mortified.

''You two are so immature,'' he said.

''Says the guy currently laying on the floor because he's ticklish.''

''I will strangle you,'' Willem threatened.

''Try me, bit- Hey!'' Laurent started to say, before Willem had reached forward and pulled him besides him.

''You know, this is actually surprisingly comfortable,'' Femke commented after a beat of silence.

''No, you're heavy. Get off me- Lau don't you dare lay on top of Femke or I swear- oof!''

''Hmm? What was that?''

''I'll kill you.''

''Aw, we love you too!''

''... Ugh, fine, if I say it, will you get off?''

''Maybe!''

''You two are gremlins, oh my god. Fine, I love you too.''

''He said it! Lau, he said it!''

''Yeah yeah, we all heard it. Now get off me.''

''I mean... technically I never promised I'd get off-''

''Off. Now. Or I'll never bring you stroopwafels again.''

This earned him a scandalized gasp from both of his siblings.

''You’re so mean! How dare you deprive us of stroopwafels?!''

''You can't do that!''

''You two are impossible. I said off,'' Willem complained, trying to sit up. Which was hard, considering Femke was literally laying on top of him.

''Say the magic word first.''

''Are you serious right now? Femke, we are not five.''

''So?''

''... Fine. Femke, can you please get the fuck off me?''

''Fine, close enough,'' she said as she got off Willem, who immediately took a deep breath.

''Finally, oh sweet air how much I've missed you.''

''You’re so weird. Anyway,'' Femke said, turning towards Laurent. ''You recorded the whole thing, right?''

Laurent laughed and rolled his eyes. ''Like you had to ask.''

Willem gaped at them, before jumping up. ''Godver- Laurent give that camera here, right now!''

''No, I don’t want to. I must say this is great blackmail material.''

''Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan-''

''Du muss mech als éischt fänken!''

Needless to say, Willem ended up chasing Laurent through the house, Femke following closely behind. In the end, all three of them ended up in a dogpile on the couch, laughing. Yeah, family meetings were fun indeed.

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

Translations:

Hoepel een eind op (Dutch) = a nice(ish) way of saying ‘fuck off’ or ‘go away’

Godverdomme (Dutch, Flemish) = goddammit

Nondikass (Luxembourgish) = used as an exclaimation, meaning something like ‘damn’.

Jezus Christus (Dutch) = Jesus Christ

Fëck dech (Luxembourgish) = Screw you

Ik tyf je de Noordzee in als je niet ophoudt (Dutch) = I will throw you into the North Sea if you don't stop. (The word ‘tyf’ is pretty rude though, albeit used by a lot of teens in my experience, so I would not recommend going around actually saying this.)

Hou uw bakkes (Flemish) = shut up

Godverdomme, natuurlijk is dat het antwoord. Kut! (Dutch) = ‘Goddammit, of course that's the answer. Fuck!’ (even though the word 'kut’ doesn’t mean ‘fuck’, it's used as a replacement pretty often. The more accurate translation would be ‘vagina’, as that is literally what it means, but it's used as a curse word more often than not.)

Nee (Dutch, Flemish, Luxembourgish) = No

Laurent, als je nu niet die camera hier geeft, dan- = Laurent, if you don't give me the camera right now, then-

Du muss mech als éischt fänken! (Luxembourgish) = youre gonna have to catch me first!

Stroopwafels are a Dutch delicacy, I love them so much. Basically, they’re waffles with syrup in between. Google them for examples and probably a better explanation.

I am physically incapable of not adding in a sprinkle of NedCan. I'm sorry (but actually not really,, as stated, Willem and Matthew are married so technically Matthew is family- *gets smacked*)

The ending is more crack and longer than I intended because I have no self-control. Sue me.

Moral of the story: don't anger short ppl. They’re angrier cuz they’re closer to hell-

Yes Willem is ticklish, I said what I said.

Bonus scene: ''Wait, so if Willem is a worm, would Matthew be like... a moose?''

''I am begging you two to stop. Laurent, stop laughing!''

#hetafamilyweek2021 #aph benelux #aph netherlands #aph belgium #aph luxembourg #hetalia #hws netherlands #hws belgium #hws luxembourg #aph friesland #aph holland #aph groningen #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #sibling banter #somerandomdutchfangirl #somerandomdutchartist

18 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Quarantine On Crack

Until Dawn Gang + Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Some underage drinking, A LONG-ASS READ (sorry 😅)

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Humor

Summary: The Until Dawn kids (including Hannah and Beth) decide to go through literal hell - trying to survive each other while being stuck on a mountain, in a lodge together for an undetermined amount of time. It’s really a 50/50 chance of how their relationships will be affected by this much time spent together.

Requested by my dear Until Dawn Anon. This is the first time our babies aren’t suffering yay! Hope you enjoy! Know I had a ton of fun writing. The credit for some of these amazing quotes goes out to you (keep both the requests and quotes coming, I absolutely love them!) Love you, Vy ❤

Imagine what the aftermath of a human tornado would look like. You’ve got an image? Great. Now triple it as though three tornados had ripped through the place. Cause that’s what the lodge looks like right now.

Let me backtrack just for a second so I can give you a proper idea of what’s going on and how it came to be. I’d like to mention this ain’t my first rodeo. I’m not in Blackwood nor am I staying in this lodge with this group of people for the first time. I knew what I was getting myself into when I accepted Josh’s offer to go there now with this pandemic that’s eating away at the world. I knew certain members of the group would be hell to put up with but that quarantine beat staying at home alone with my thoughts, so I gave in. This plan had its perks: since we would be the only ones on the mountains and all of us are perfectly healthy, we’d be allowed to wander the woods and breathe some fresh air. On the other hand, however, I’d have to restrain myself from committing murder. The snowy wood outweighed the possibility of becoming a murderer and that’s how I ended up here with the ten people I’ve been friends with since high school freshmen year.

We’re on day four so far. Yes DAY four, not WEEK four, and people are already scrapping with one another. Jess and Emily can barely tolerate each other. Mike and Matt likewise. I’ve been done with their shit since day two and am now watching a literal rom-com unfold in front of me. “Will They, Won’t They Squared” is the title in case you were wondering. Why squared? Well we have two pairs of love birds around here that are not official, BUT THEY SHOULD BE. Not naming any names or anything *ahem*.

I probably should’ve mentioned, while I was on the scrapping topic, that I have already managed to threaten Mike at least ten times. Emily and I are trying our hardest to remain civil with each other through passive aggression, and I must admit we’re doing well.

Another thing that has been going on is A LOT OF FUCKING FLIRTING. I swear we run on hormones and caffeine. And I’m into it.

Jess and Emily were at each other’s throats just moments ago, the argument took so many turns and kept branching out so much I forgot what they were even fighting about. Sam and Josh are sitting in front of the unlit fireplace. Sam’s giving him a hard time about his inability to light a fire. She’s basically doing what I would’ve been doing if Matt hadn’t handed me a cup of homemade cider.

“Y/N.“ He says as he settles on the other end of the couch

“Matthew.“ I reply to his greeting, clinking our cups together

“GET A ROOM YOU TWO!“ Emily yells from somewhere behind us

“We have like three empty seats between us and exchanged two words.“ Matt shakes his head, looking at the staircase over the backrest.

“Oh, sureee.“ Emily replies sarcastically

I can tell she’s about to go on and I’ve already went off on Mike twice today so my argument energy levels are low and I’m not having it. Thankfully, a single look shuts her up real quick and she goes about her way.

Suddenly, a loud scream comes from the kitchen. Everyone turns to look in that direction, but I’m unfazed. It’s Ashley’s scream so I know exactly what’s up.

“Sit tight, guys. I’ve got this.“ I put my cider on the coffee table and walk into the kitchen, grabbing the can of deodorant that I purposely left on the counter for this exact scenario. I pull the lighter out of my pocket and step between Ashley and the source of her terror which is, as I guessed, one of those mutated ass Blackwood cockroaches.

I waste no time torching it and picking it up with a paper towel before throwing it in the trash. We take the trash out every night at eleven PM as some unspoken ritual, so the corpse can chill there for now. I ain’t going out in the cold just to throw away the dead body of a cockroach.

“Sorry about that.“ Ashley says through a relieved sigh

“Don’t worry, Ash. Everyone’s afraid of something.“ I assure her, putting the can of deodorant where it previously was.

“Even you?“ she asks skeptically

“Nope.“ I respond with a smirk.

“I CAN CONFIRM!“ Josh calls out from his spot in front of the fireplace, “SHE ISN’T AFRAID OF ANYTHING!“

“And a pyromaniac on top of all.“ Chris mumbles under his breath

He’s not wrong. I did teach them the deodorant flamethrower trick.

I notice Jess has taken one of those three seats Matt mentioned were between him and I earlier. The one closest to him, to be specific. Instead of third wheeling, I grab my cup and plop myself in one of the armchairs.

“Is that another point for the ‘Y/N’s burnt cockroaches’ score board?“ Mr. Munroe struts his way into the room.

I hum affirmatively, “Piss me off some more and there will be another point on that score board.” I warn him nonchalantly, taking a sip of my now almost cold cider.

Ashley, who has safely made it out of the kitchen and is now sitting on the floor by the couch looks up at me and Mike who is now standing behind my chair, looming over me like a street lamp. “Do you two even consider each other friends?”

I give Mike a debating glance, one he returns, before looking back at Ash, “We fuck occasionally.” Mike confirms from behind me.

“That doesn’t answer the question.“ Ashley’s disappointed sigh mixes with Jess’ shocked gasp.

I give Jess an unamused look, “What? Don’t act like I haven’t slept with you too.”

Poor Matt, who’s halfway through a sip of his drink nearly chokes at my words, “Wait, WHAT?”

“OK, show hands everyone who HASN’T slept with Y/N!“ Mike declares.

Chris, Ash, Sam, Josh and Matt raise their hands in the air.

“I’m honestly offended that I haven’t.“ Sam says while raising hers.

“Offended that you haven’t what?“ Hannah asks as her and Beth come downstairs a bunch of board games and puzzles in their arms. “And why are we raising our hands?”

“People who haven’t slept with Y/N.“ Jess quickly explains, grumpily folding her arms over her chest. I can’t help but laugh, nor can I restrain the urge to fluster her even further by winking at her.

“I would raise my hand but these boxes would go everywhere.“ Hannah shakes her head.

“I won’t raise mine because....well, I just won’t.“ Beth blushes, making me laugh.

Josh whips around to glare at me, “Seriously?”

I raise my hands in surrender, “Wasn’t my idea.”

Thankfully the topic is dropped by the time Emily walks in. She sits down on the other side of Jess on the couch, more than happy to interrupt her and Matt’s flirting.

“Oh, finally!“ Sam says as the fire that’s been in the making for a while now finally lights, “I knew you could do it, Josh!“

“We could’ve done it a lot quicker if you helped, you know?“ He narrows his eyes playfully at her, taking the hand she offered to him so she could help him up.

“True, but I was your moral support. You know I like focusing on one task rather than multitasking.“ She teases him, “And now I’ll be your cider supplier. Be right back.“

I give Josh that knowing smirk when I see his ears reddening. You know something’s up when your cheeks/ears are burning hot in a room that’s around freezing - you’re either burning with a fever or a crush. No other explanation.

Hannah and Beth have set the board games they’ve brought onto the coffee table so we can decide what we’d like to play.

“UNO?“ Beth offers while Jess, Josh and Matt look at the options.

War-like flashback ensue when I shake my head, “No! Nah hah, I’ll be tempted to strangle somebody.”

“Over UNO?“ Josh gives me this look that’s between disappointed and deeply concerned

“I’ve been tempted to kill over Rock, Paper and Scissors.“ That statement tells him enough that he turns back around with this stunned look on his face.

Eventually, after a lot of convincing, the whole gang is on board with playing a round or two of truth or dare until one of us decides something more original because we really don’t feel like playing board games.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?“ Emily asks, not giving anyone else a chance.

I smirk, kicking my feet up on the table, leaning back in the chair, “Truth for the first round.”

“Who here is the best in bed?“ she sneakily narrows her eyes at me, thinking she’s intimidating. How cute.

“Dare.“ Why don’t we make things interesting?

Em doesn’t complain, “We still have that cockroach’s corpse?”

“Enough said.“ I get up from my seat only to get grabbed by Mike and pulled back down.

“Easy there, caveman.“ He says, shaking his head, “Just answer the question. This doesn’t need to be gross.”

Chris, Ash, Matt and Jess look mortified. “You were gonna do it, weren’t you?” Matt gathers the guts to ask.

I give him a sweet smile and a nod. “And to answer your question: Me. My turn! Josh, truth or dare?”

He glares at me intensely, “Dare.”

The fucker knows I’m not the type to give ‘kiss this person’ or ‘7 minutes in heaven with that person’ dares. But I do ask some risky questions. Well...the only way to get him into my trap is to use his hatred for bug against him.

“We do still have that cockroach. So...“ I give an innocent shrug of the shoulders, giving him the chance to put two and two together instead of breaking it to him.

You could pinpoint the exact moment the realization hits him, his face turning in disgust. “You know, Y/N, sometimes I really love you.” He says, very touching of him, “And sometimes I’d love to kill you.” He takes a moment, a moment filled with aggressive eye contact between us before finally giving in, growling: “Truth.”

I think I’m level with Mother Theresa for what I did next. “What’s your favorite video game?”

The relief that washes over him is priceless to see. His answer comes as a sigh that indicates that the whole world has been lifted off his chest, “Metal Gear Solid.”

“Cool.“ I say with a cheeky smile.

Being the college kids we are, we easily get bored after a few more rounds, but not before having to defuse an argument that’s basically name-calling between Jess and Emily. I’ve noticed a pattern: if one of them as much as breathes in the other’s direction - a cat fight takes place.

Thankfully, the group disperses into smaller groups or in pairs. Sam, Josh, Chris and Ash go to the theater. Mike and Jess head upstairs, and I think no one would like to go to that area of the lodge in the next two or so hours. Emily and Matt go on a stroll while Hannah and Beth somehow convince me to play Monopoly.

The round ends with Beth somehow gathering all of mine and Hannah’s territories. After a brief celebration they head on over to the theater to join the others. I turn down their offer to accompany them and go warm up the cider that’s now literally frozen.

“Grab whiskey if you want to speed up the process.“ I’m surprised to hear Munroe’s voice behind me but don’t show it as I refuse to even turn around to answer him.

“I’m saving the whiskey for when things get really fucked up.“

“Smart, I guess.“

I choose to be nice and fill up a cup for him as well. I hop up on the counter, taking a slow sip of my drink while looking Mike, who’s standing opposite me, leaning against the kitchen island, dead in the eyes.

“You know,“ he’s the one to break the tense silence that surged between us, “jealousy is a poisonous thing.“

Intriguing opening, Michael. “I’ve heard, yes.”

“Then why don’t you just drop it? You’ll be happier if you do, trust me.“ That smug look on his face makes me want to pour the hot liquid (Destery Smith, anyone?) directly onto his handsome features.

I hear a pair of footsteps approaching the kitchen. A side glance in the direction the noise is coming from confirms that there are indeed two people coming this way - Chris and Ashley.

“A bold thing to tell me while we’re around so many sharp objects.“ If the eyes are really windows to the soul, I would like to picture his with a bunch of stab-wounds from my glare-daggers. Though my gaze is intense, there is a calm smirk on my face. “I can kill you right now.“

Chris and Ashley walk into the kitchen and freeze - they clearly hadn’t noticed us until it was too late. They are looking at us like a pair of deer caught in headlights - mortified.

Mike jumps at the opportunity to ensure his safety, “You can’t! There’s witnesses.”

Unfazed, I turn to the pair who’s on the fence about what they should do, “Guys, could you please excuse us for a moment.”

They both nod hesitantly, slowly taking a step back. Mike is not about to let them go, however. He straightens up, setting the cup he’s holding aside. “No, no, no! Don’t move! Not another step!”

Their eyes land on me and I give them a reassuring and encouraging nod to exit the room. They both comply easily.

“Guys, come on!“ Mike pleads desperately, making me suppress a chuckle

“Sorry, Mike. But you won’t show up at my house in the middle of the night....“ Chris trails off with his apology when Ashley takes hold of his hand so she can lead him away from the kitchen.

“She will.” Ash finishes his sentence, giving me a subtle wink to which I reply by blowing her a kiss.

“Checkmate“ I say triumphally, turning to look at a somewhat scared and disappointed Mike.

“A FIRE IN THE THEATRE!“ Hannah’s scream startles all of us.

I look at the where I left the deodorant earlier, finding the spot vacant. Oh boy...

“Damn it, Josh! I told you not to use the flamethrower without my supervision!“

As Mike and I run out of the kitchen I hear Chris say: “I’m afraid this is the only time this getaway will be lit.”

I hope Ashley gently smacked him upside the head in response to that.

63 notes · View notes

yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

Note

Can I have a scenario where The yandere teachers have a Darling who’s just VERY noticeably overwhelmed,when turns out all the pressure is a result of overbearing parents that are expecting there child to be perfect especially after they got into a very good school,the darling doesn’t have time for friends or really anything,and sometimes gets so overwhelmed they forget to eat.(sorry if this is to descriptive!)

Love, no need to worry! This is a really nice request. I hope I can write something nice for you.

Possible TW: Reader gets unconscious because of their eating habits, uncaring/apathetic parents, exhaustion and low-key mentally unwell reader.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Stressing yourself out [Yandere!Teachers x Reader - Headcanons]:

Madeline Allen:

Honestly, it doesn't matter if she loves you as mother loves a daughter, or a lover loves a lover, she won't let you go through that.

She won't let you work yourself so hard like that.

It's weird how the best student on her class, is the one that is always too tired to pay attention to her class.

It makes her a little worried, but nothing compared to the day she thought you were sleeping in class.

You weren't sleeping, you falled unconscious.

Because you haven't eaten much in the past couple of days, you didn't have enough energy to keep yourself awake in class.

Of course she is panicking! She didn't know who to call first, but decided to prioritize calling an ambulance over your parents. Madeline can't really deal with stressful situations.

After noticing what she had done, she decides to call your parents to warn them about the situation. But the talk over the phone wasn't really the most pleasant of conversations. It was honestly quite jarring.

They were too busy to hear her, to listen about the compromised well-being of their own child. Maybe she is being overdramatic, but she would never let her job be a priority over her loved ones.

You did wake up after a couple of minutes, finding a honestly, familiar but not exactly ideal situation. You were hospitalized again, right?

But instead of having no one there, this time, there was at least someone else in the room, freaking out and passing around the room anxiously.

You didn't expect to see your own teacher waiting for you to wake up, or expecting your teacher to hug you so desperately saying how worried she was.

It was weird for you, someone who was already accustomed with being left alone. The new and sudden warm is certainly welcome, though.

And while you're enjoying this moment, Madeline is honestly getting more and more concerned about you. Your response to being held in a hug, your non-existent reaction to being inside a hospital room, how the nurse seems to already know you, and specially, how your parents seemed like they already knew you were here.

It's such a bizarre way to live, to her it's inhumane, to you, it's a everyday thing.

After this incident, you better except her to never leave you alone again, she doesn't want you to fall unconscious again.

She shares her lunch with you, with is either some really fancy cookies that she brought from some bakery, or her own cooking. With she tries her best to be tasty and nutritious just for you.

She goes really easy on you while you're in her class, and whenever you need to relax, she talks with you personally to try and take a break for a bit.

Madeline would do that to any student on her class, but of course, you're a special case. Someone like you, doesn't deserve to be treated the way people treat you.

Also, yeah… Your parents, they are a really big problem on your life, it's easy to see. They stress you, and they stress her too.

Madeline can't deal with stress.

Matthew Robinson:

He is normally unfazed by students sleeping in his class, he teaches history, and most teachers say he has some sort of smooth voice. It's easy to fall asleep to him taking.

But whenever he sees you sleeping, he gets a little more finicky. Again, you're a really smart student, a little bit of a loner, but honestly a sweet person.

But for some reason you never pay attention to him or his classes.

He does talk with you a bit about it, but something doesn't seem right. It doesn't seem like a 'you' problem.

It was when you were found unconscious on one of the college's halls by one of your classmates. Some students mentioned seeing you walking slowly, with your back hunched and your arms holding your stomach. Some offered help, to with you declined.

It disturbed him to hear about all of this, and not being able to do anything. Just hear the news from other people's mouth until he could speak with you personally. Apparently you haven't eaten that day, and the day before you haven't eaten much a dinner. Apparently, you haven't relax since a long, a long time.

To think that he had been observing you for so long, but never thought that your behavior was caused by such overwhelming situation.

It makes him sick to see how tired you are, while trying to play off as "it's normal". It makes him angry to talk with your parents and find out how uncaring they're.

Maybe he is overthinking this, but come on, who would treat someone who does their absolute best everyday like they're "not enough".

Maybe he has been a bit harsh on you, he is with everyone, but that doesn't excuse that he had also pushed you too.

He tries his best to help you with your studies, helping you relax a bit, and know that you can relax now and then.

Maybe if your grades get a little more higher, they can stop complaining. Or maybe he should interfere with this, personally.

You're more than enough love.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #yandere x reader #yandere oc #special delivery headcanons #yandere teacher #yandere teacher x reader #yandere teacher x student reader #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere ocs headcanons

49 notes · View notes

phantomofthepairofdice · 4 years ago

Text

The Rosscars 2020

Wow. It’s that time of year again, only this time it’s different because it’s on a blog that no one will read! (hold for applause) Welcome to the first annual online publication for the Rosscars (hold for applause while the reader acknowledges how positively droll it is that I combined my name with “Oscars”). Who can forget such indelible Rosscar memories like when Steven Soderbergh surprised us all and won Best Director for Out of Sight or Bill Irwin’s beautiful speech upon winning Best Supporting Actor for Rachel Getting Married?! The Rosscars mean something different to everyone, but we all know that they mean quality choices made by a committee of one schmuck. This year’s Rosscars are bizarre because in an effort to be more like the Academy guidelines, film’s nominated have been released between January 1, 2020 and February 28, 2021. As usual, theatrical windows be damned, streamers are welcome. Of course, I have my gripes. I like categorizing movies by release year – specifically, when they become available to the plain old public like yours truly – not at festivals, limited runs in NYC and LA. Well, the Oscars are still weeks away and I feel like everybody wants to forget about last year and move onto this one that we’re already three months into - So here are my awards for the films, performers, and craftspeople that stood out in a pretty exceptional year for movies even though distribution was stranger than ever.

**A few caveats and guidelines to Rosscar newcomers (which I imagine is just a formality since we all know the Rosscars so well)**

The rules and categories are a little different around here. First, not every category is honored directly. That’s for a few reasons, chiefly that I don’t feel qualified to reward the technical categories properly – I suppose I should say that I feel less qualified to do so than the “above the line” categories. In keeping with the Academy standard, there are five nominees in each category, except for Best Picture, Best Non-Fiction/Documentary Feature, and Best Ensemble Cast which allow up to ten. Every category, save those three, will have the possibility of honorable mentions, because I want to highlight some things that just barely missed the cut. The narrowing down of a lot of these categories was awfully tough.

Nominees are listed alphabetically, and the winners are in bold and italics.

Also, it’s important to keep in mind that I couldn’t see everything (this isn’t a job and it’s still $20 to rent The Father, y’all) and that these are just the opinions of one (self-described) “bozo on the internet.” If you’re a reader and have different picks, feel free to share!

Special Commendations for some things that I want to recognize: • Ludwig Goransson for his Tenet score which is an absolute banger • The costumes of Emma. (Alexandra Byrne), Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (Ann Roth), and Small Axe (Jaqueline Durran, Sinéad Kidao, and Lisa Duncan) all struck me as exceptional • Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross with their scores for both Soul and Mank. Crazy that Pixar is working with the guy who made “Closer” • The cinematography of Da 5 Bloods (Newton Thomas Sigel), First Cow (Christopher Blauvelt), Beanpole (Kseniya Sereda), and A White, White Day (Maria von Hausswolff)

The Rosscars red carpet was, as usual, a bizarre affair. People filed into the theater and it seemed like the only encounters were awkward ones. Vin Diesel showed up in character as Bloodshot, Aaron Sorkin started getting really verbose about what a lovely night it was, and it became clear that most of the celebrities in attendance didn’t read their invitations closely enough to realize that this was not, in fact, the Academy Awards.

Everyone’s seated, and the show is under way. After a medley about the nominees this year by Common and Seth McFarlane that was more corny but clever than it was funny, the first official category is here, and the presenter is none other than... Ross!

Best Supporting Actor:

1. Chadwick Boseman for Da 5 Bloods

2. Matthew Macfadyen for The Assistant

3. Jesse Plemmons for Judas and the Black Messiah

4. Paul Raci for Sound of Metal

5. Glynn Turman for Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Honorable Mentions:

• Lucas Hedges for Let Them All Talk

• Orion Lee for First Cow

• Bill Murray for On the Rocks

Best Supporting Actress:

1. Vanessa Bayer for Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

2. Candice Bergen for Let Them All Talk

3. Gina Rodriguez for Kajillionaire

4. Amanda Seyfried for Mank

5. Yuon Yuh-jung for Minari

Honorable Mentions:

• Jane Adams for She Dies Tomorrow

• Charin Alvarez for Saint Frances

• Talia Ryder for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

• Debra Winger for Kajillionaire

Everyone loves a montage. The audience gets comfortable in their seats as the video screens start to show a montage of some of the most famous moments from Hollywood’s most magical movies. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers waltz, gliding across a dance floor like two hovering angels. There’s a clip of Leo declaring himself king of the world in Titanic, the flying bicycles in ET, Bogart stares longingly into Bacall’s eyes, and then there’s some scene where Tom Cruise rides a motorcycle from 2010′s Knight and Day. The audience all seems confused how that last one got in there. The John Williams music swells as little Kevin McAllister screams when puts on aftershave. We see clips of Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver, Carrie Fisher’s Princess Leia embrace Harrison Ford’s Han Solo, Bruce Lee smoothly declares that boards don’t hit back and... wait... was that a clip from Michel Gondry’s Green Hornet with Seth Rogen? And that’s a clip from What Happens in Vegas... Bad Teacher... Vanilla Sky... Shrek 2... Any Given Sunday... Everyone is flummoxed. The last clip fades out and a sole editing credit appears: Cameron Diaz. The lights come up and there’s some applause, but mostly confused murmurs.

The ceremony has had a bit of a misstep, but nothing it can’t recover from, especially as the next category is announced over the PA, and it looks like the presenter is... Ross!

Best Ensemble Cast:

1. Bacurau

2. Da 5 Bloods

3. Kajillionaire

4. Let Them All Talk

5. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

6. Minari

7. Nomadland

8. Pieces of a Woman

9. Small Axe

Best Original Screenplay:

1. Danny Bilson and Paul Dameo & Spike Lee and Kevin Wilmott for Da 5 Bloods

2. Lee Isaac Chung for Minari

3. Brandon Cronenberg for Possessor

4. Sean Durkin for The Nest

5. Kleber Mendonça Filho and Juliano Dornelles for Bacurau

Honorable Mentions – a very difficult task to weed this down to five.

• Shaka King and Will Berson for Judas and the Black Messiah, from a story by Kenny and Keith Lucas

• Steve McQueen, Alastair Siddons, and Courttia Newland for Small Axe

• Kelly O'Sullivan for Saint Frances

• Thomas Vinterberg and Tobias Lindholm for Another Round

Best Actor:

1. Ben Affleck for The Way Back

2. Chadwick Boseman for Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

3. Delroy Lindo for Da 5 Bloods

4. John Magaro for First Cow

5. Mads Mikkelsen for Another Round

Honorable Mentions:

• Riz Ahmed for Sound of Metal

• John Boyega for Small Axe

• Daniel Kaluuya for Judas and the Black Messiah

• Hugh Jackman for Bad Education

• Ingvar Eggert Sigurðsson for A White, White Day

We have a break in the action and it looks like Darius Rucker has showed up to perform what he would have nominated for Best Original Song. The crowd is absolutely furious as he starts playing a song that apparently was in Trial of the Chicago Seven. An ocean of sonorous boos and curses overtakes the the once docile crowd. The Rock just ripped his chair from out of the ground. Jane Lynch somehow smuggled in a civil war era flintlock pistol that she’s now pointing at the stage! Suddenly, the crowd unifies around what started as a confident chant of one lone audience member - John C Reilly. It’s growing... Ja Ja Ding Dong, Ja Ja Ding Dong, Ja Ja Ding Dong - it’s like the macabre circus performers from Tod Browning’s Freaks, but instead of chanting “Gooble Gobble” they’re clearly pining for Darius to change his tune to the silly and delightful jam from Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga. Darius, scared for his life, leaves the stage, but here come Will Ferrell and Rachel McAdams to deliver the goods. Busy Philips and Michelle Williams burst into tears. Tom Hanks nods in approval. A segment saved by brave artists placating a toxic group of fans... we’ve just witnessed a live version of the Snyder Cut, folks.

Jack Nicholson seems completely unfazed, giving a thumbs up to the camera and blowing a kiss to the next presenter. Coming to the stage is... Ross... again...

Best Actress:

1. Jessie Buckley for i’m thinking of ending things

2. Carrie Coon for The Nest

3. Han Ye-ri for Minari

4. Sidney Flanagan for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

5. Vasilisa Perelygina for Beanpole

Honorable Mentions – these cuts were especially painful

• Haley Bennet for Swallow

• Morfydd Clark for Saint Maud

• Frances McDormand for Nomadland

• Christin Milioti for Palm Springs

• Geraldine Viswanathan for Bad Education

Best Adapted Screenplay:

1. Charlie Kaufman for i'm thinking of ending things from Iain Reed's novel

2. Sarah Gubbins for Shirley from Susan Scarf Merrell's novel

3. Kelly Reichardt and John Raymond for First Cow

4. Simon Rich for American Pickle from his short story "Sell Out"

5. Mike Makowsky for Bad Education from Robert Kolker's "The Bad Superintendent"

Best Non-Fiction/Documentary Feature:

1. Boys State

2. Collective

3. David Byrne’s American Utopia

4. Dick Johnson is Dead

5. Feels Good Man

6. In & Of Itself

7. The Painter and the Thief

8. Time

Jimmy Fallon has come out on stage to do a bit about the pandemic and watching movies at home. People are just absolutely not having it. He tries not to laugh at his own jokes while doing what I guess is technically a pretty good impression of Dr. Fauci interviewing James Corden as Martin Scorsese (the less said of this impression, the better) on what is or isn’t cinema. The bit doesn’t track and Fallon is absolutely tanking. The producers cut away from the stage to spare the viewers at home from this monstrosity. We see crowd shots of Millie Bobby Brown shaking her head in dismay, Colin Firth is simultaneously grimacing and trying to stave off laughter, Cynthia Erivo is texting, and director Tom Hooper is taking notes for his next film. Corden yells, “Carpool Karaoke! Remember?!” Ron Howard has fainted. This thing is almost completely off the rails.

Coming back to the stage is the next presenter, a clearly embarrassed... Ross! He’s in a total flop sweat, but stumbles his way through a joke about how Fallon should try co-hosting the Oscars with James Franco sometime. There are scant chuckles throughout a crowd that mostly just wants to see who won and go home.

Best Director:

1. Christopher Nolan for Tenet

2. Spike Lee for Da 5 Bloods

3. Steve McQueen for Small Axe

4. Kelly Reichardt for First Cow

5. Chloé Zhao for Nomadland

Honorable Mentions:

• Kitty Green for The Assistant

• Eliza Hittman for Never Rarely Sometimes Always

• Charlie Kaufman for i'm thinking of ending things

• Thomas Vinterberg for Another Round

Best Picture

1. Bacurau

2. Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar

3. Da 5 Bloods

4. First Cow

5. i'm thinking of ending things

6. Judas and the Black Messiah

7. Never Rarely Sometimes Always

8. Nomadland

9. Small Axe

10. Tenet

Accepting the award for best picture is none other than Eve, the cow actor who played the titular First Cow! The audience is enamored with how graceful she looks in her cow gown, and her speech, though indecipherable, is likely simple, observational, and deeply profound for those who speak cow.

Wow, what a ceremony! Hearts were broken, property was damaged, dreams were fulfilled... blood was shed? Damn it, Meryl Streep came in and mugged Charlie Kaufman before absconding with the trophy. Oddly, she’s a previous winner, so the attack isn’t out of need for hardware. People are reading through articles about production on Adaptation for potential motives. Streep made time for a photo opportunity, but remains at large.

I could go on ad infinitum about all of these nominees and winners themselves and why they did or didn’t make the cut, but that’d be better served in a different piece. For now, my thoughts on most of these can be found on the Best of 2020 write-up and over on my Letterboxd. And, as always, these awards can be revoked and redistributed at will, so don’t get too cozy with that statue, Danny Bilson!

On behalf of the RAOGL (Rosscars Association of One Guy at a Laptop), thanks for reading, and stay tuned as we’re establishing a tip line for anyone has seen Ms. Streep or her stolen valor Rosscar. We’ll see you next year. Keep watching movies, and keep arbitrarily quantifying them in terms of subjective quality!

#awards #movies #film #Rosscars

4 notes · View notes

movedyourchair505 · 6 years ago

Text

Napule Nights - quarantadue

Sorry for the wait being a little longer this time, but thanks to Elana and Ela for helping me loads with this! Big shit is coming x

- chapter navigation -

The following day, Jade entered the headquarters with Alexander, then less than an hour later left him with a few advisors in a meeting, exiting the very same door with Kane, his arm linked with hers, his face freshly tanned and excited about the prospect of taking Jade out as well as the fact that their outfits unintentionally matched, her tight dress as silky and shiny as the shirt he wore underneath his pinstriped suit, had left its buttons mostly undone to show off as much of his chest and heavy jewelry.

He was charming on the ride there, complimented her dress and her hair, talked about the new pieces of jewelry he'd gotten, showed her a ring Alexander had given him ages ago, and it was only when they were sat secluded on the terrasse of his favourite café, waiters busied with their order, security out of reach, that he leaned forward towards her and the wrinkles of excitement were replaced by an expression that left barely anything to guess about his shift in mood, his brows furrowed, his jaw tense, fingers wrapped around the edge of the table.

“Why'd ya not scratch 'er eyes out then?”

Jade blinked, her back straightening as she looked back him, licking her lips. A few moments passed before she understood that he knew, that someone had told him and she nodded slowly. “Helders stopped me” she stated. “Regrettably.”

The corner of his mouth twitched visibly before his lips broke out into a small smile, yet the look of bitterness in his eyes didn't fully fade. “Reyht.” He leaned back in his seat again. “I joost fookin' 'ate 'er.”

Kane's anger was beginning to fuel her own, despite having talked about everything with Alexander the night before, making sure he was as content with the situation as possible among the circumstances, she found herself thinking back to the smile on Adriana's face when she'd dared to speak to him as if she hadn't made changes to his life that he was still dealing with. “No one should have had or should have that power...” She swallowed. “Over him.”

Miles raised his eyebrows before he started nodding slowly. “Bella, you 'ave tha' power.”

Her eyes darkened. “Well, I wouldn't fucking abuse it like that” she spat, yet felt a strange surge of satisfaction at his words. She meant every word she'd said, but it filled her with pride, a sense of accomplishment, that she'd made a change after all, a change beneficial to the both of them.

“I kno' you like tha', bella” he said, not breaking their eye contact as the waiter set down their drinks on the table and he picked up his, taking a long sip. “And I kno' now tha' you won't take advantage of him.”

“Good” she said, running her fingers through her hair before taking a sip from her own drink. “No need to threaten me again, Kane. I'm on your side.”

He pursed his lips, then the anger made room for a smile to spread on his face, endearing and trustful and he gave her a nod. “Fings can only go up'ill from 'ere. Tonight's deal's gunna make evrehfin' wif Alfonso look like a petty teenage feud.”

Jade raised her eyebrows, setting down her glass. “Tonight's deal?” She asked, tilting her head to the side as she stared back at him inquisitively.

Kane's eyes widened momentarily. “Oh, fookin'ell...” he drawled after a short pause. “I swear tha' boy is gunna...” He sighed, shaking his head, raking his heavily-jeweled fingers through his short hair. “Reyht, dun't want ya finkin' tha' Al dun't trust yeh, alreyht? 's onleh me and Serena tha' kno' and I thought 'e would've told ya, but 'e wanted to protect ya, rehyt...”

“Protect me?” She asked, despite his words, her first initial thought was as predicted that he did indeed not trust her, that there was some huge business deal she did not know about despite having been under the now seemingly naïve impression that he wasn't afraid to share things with her anymore, that he valued her opinion and input, that he allowed her to be a part of what he worked on.

“Al were worried it weren't gunna go through, so 'e bareleh told anybodeh, bareleh aneh of the men tha' are gunna escort 'im there tonight even kno' wha' it is and when you were taken by Alfonso, 'e 'ad to be more careful. But dun't yeh understand this, 's 'ard to figure 'im out sumtimes. 's joost business.”

Jade nodded, then when the waiter returned busied herself with eating, couldn't find it in her to speak more about Adriana, because she was not worth it, could not tell Kane any more about the meeting, because it didn't matter now, as well as Adriana, it was in the past, and what was in the very pressing present was the fact that Alexander had been working on something, a deal so important he had specifically chosen not to tell her, nor anyone, which only showed how much of an important event he'd been directly keeping from her.

She could tell that Kane realised that it were his words that had spiraled her into thoughts that rendered her words rather sparse, but despite his attempts that she knew were probably more than reasonable, they hardly mattered when all she could think about was to confront Alexander and as soon as she set foot in the headquarters, she steered for his office, had already knocked on the door before Helders behind her could stop her.

“A moment” came Alexander's deep drawl from the other side of the heavy door.

Jade crossed her arms in front of her chest, turned her head slightly to look back at Helders who stood expressionless, patient, yet ready to move if she tried to enter, and she knew it was only going to cause more trouble.

After a few moments of silence passing, the door opened, Cook holding it for Serena to pass who gave Jade a nod, more approval than she had ever received from her, but she fought to not let that distract her, to appreciate the shift at a later time when she knew if she even should be seeking approval from her rather than Alexander.

“Jade.”

Alex rose in his chair, nodded for Matthew and Jamie to wait outside, then walked around his desk, closing the buttons at the ends of his suit jacket's sleeves, the matte black suit once again drawing Jade's attention to something she wasn't there to pay attention too, it was as well-fitted as she remembered it from this morning, the rings on his fingers made her head spin with wild imagination, and she resisted the temptation to touch him when she got close enough to do so, pressed her lips together when instead, his hands found their way to her hips so effortlessly to draw her in the way he pleased, yet the softness in his eyes was replaced with a look of concern, alert even when he saw the fire in her eyes.

“Wha' is it, pupa?” He asked, the depth of his voice straining, on edge.

She raised an eyebrow, gave him another moment to realise what she was waiting for, then took a breath and curved her body into his. “What's happening tonight?”

She saw him swallow visibly, his adam's apple stretching over his throat, yet the look in his eyes remained unchanged, locked on hers, firm. “There's a deal.”

Her eyes darkened, her fingers smoothing down his jacket, gentle as opposed to the look in her eyes as she stared back at him, waiting, expectant of more, but nothing came, he was going to make her work for an answer, the authority on his face that she was always aware of now apparent and intense in power she had not observed and really been influenced by in a while, almost as if he was putting her in a position where she would feel her behaviour was unjust, especially towards him, as if he was in the right, as if it was the first time she'd demanded trust, and it almost had her giving in to not allow him the satisfaction, because he was so sure of himself, so sure of his own choices, which had her simultaneously undeniably attracted to him, and absolutely driven furious.

But she'd learned. She was not going to let him get away with something she had long ago figured out. “You didn't tell me” she stated, her face expressionless, unfazed by his indifference, determined to not allow him his usual effortless victory.

“Dun't do this, Jade” he said, giving a slight shake of his head, a hint of annoyance flickering across his face. He was exhausted.

She swallowed, remembered the night before, remembered how frustrated he'd gotten when she had told him she wasn't going to betray him, that he already knew, felt betrayed now that she knew she should've known better, but doubted him nonetheless, while at the same time expecting him not to. “I thought that we-...”

“Yes” he said, cutting her off, a darkness in his eyes that rendered her speechless instantly, his grip tightening on her hips, his gaze hard. “Weh are.” He licked his lips. “I kno' wha' yeh're finkin' now, but I'm not 'avin' tha'. Yehr mind's as sensational as yehr beauteh, Jade. After last night, y'kno' tha' I trust yeh. I've arranged all the securiteh teh take yeh along. Since I've been plannin' it.”

He'd once again managed to make her doubt her own actions, made her doubt her doubts, and gave her a sense she'd so often given him, in the most difficult, yet eye-opening way. “Why didn't you tell me?” She asked quietly, couldn't help herself, needed a straight-forward answer.

“Didn't wanna beh fookin' embarrassed, did I?” He muttered, giving a slight roll of his eyes, yet pulling her closer, her body pressed against his. “Can't risk anehfin' if the deal dun't go through so I didn't fookin' tell anehbodeh.” He sighed. “Jade.”

She breathed shakily, raising her eyebrows expectedly. “Yes?”

“Dun't fookin' do this. Fookin' trust meh, pupa. I kno' wha' I'm doin', I kno' yeh kno' when I'm playin' wif yeh, if I lie teh yeh. D'yeh realleh fink I'd joost try and keep summat like tha' from yeh this way because I dun't trust yeh?”

She pressed her lips together, kept herself from gritting her teeth, her gaze slowly softening and she sighed when she felt his lips meet hers, forced her lips to part for him and her tongue to dance with his, taking the lead to get her to submit, to get her to relax and bring her to her senses, his hands warm against her skin, the scent and taste of smoke mixing with the spice of his cologne and a hint of whisky, she couldn't get enough, now pressing her body up against his, her curves begging to be bent to his will.

He drew away too soon, even his eyes pulling her in when his lips were no longer on hers, had her under his spell that she'd fallen for a million times, found herself submitting to, begging him silently to take care of her. “You're taking me with you?” She asked, instantly switched on to impress him, to be of use. “What do you want me to do?”

He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his gaze softening, a look that had her reassured effortlessly. “Yeh're me pretteh accessoreh” he teased, moving his hand to brush her hair back, his gaze wandering down her body slowly before snapping back up to lock her eyes once more. “Yeh're gunna watch 'n learn. 's one of the most important deals I've ever done. And yeh're gunna see, yeh're gunna make them see yeh. Alreyht?”

She nodded understandingly, his instructions fuelling her desire to impress him, eager to please. “Alright.” She attempted to step back, expecting him to send her away instantly so he could work, but he cupped the back of her head, his thumb smoothing down her hair, had her melting into his touch, understanding now that she'd once again made a fool of herself.

“Jade.”

“Alexander?”

He chuckled. “Y'kno' I trust yeh.”

She nodded slowly, licking her lips. “I do.”

He stroked his knuckles gently across her cheek. “There'll beh sumfin' teh celebrate tonight, principessa” he stated. “I promise.”

The look in his eyes had her skin tingling, the assurance almost like a threat, and she knew how success fired him up, fuelled the already irresistible confidence into something that had her attracted to him beyond reason.

Excitement spread through her when she exited the office, felt more sure in herself, fuelled in her confidence she now was once reassured in carrying unapologetically, stopping when she heard Alexander call Helders back.

“A moment, Maffew.”

Alex made sure to wait until Jade had stopped, stood within his sight outside the door before he turned his attention towards his head of security.

“Boss, she 'eaded right for yehr office when weh came in.”

“And sheh can” Alex said, his eyes darkening. “Wha'ever sheh wants goes through meh first. Wha'ever sheh wants, sheh gets.”

Clad in a long jumpsuit, tight and fitted perfectly to her body, Jade stepped out of the car behind Alexander, let go of Helders' hand, then turned around and waited. Her hair was done up in a high ponytail, her clothing practical rather than distracting, but Alexander had not taken his hand off her ever since she'd met him in the entrance hall and he'd led her to the car, as soon as he stood beside her once more, his hand found her hip and he pulled her to his side possessively.

The importance of the deal left her surprised at the small number of security with them, besides the two of them, there were only Helders, Cook, and one more member of security stepping up on the small secluded space at the edge of the docks, shielded by the large containers and the darkness that the street lamps didn't manage to drown.

Before long, another long black car arrived, the headlights turning off once again dipping them in a scene lit mainly by the moon, several moments passed before the door in the back opened, two large men in suits that resembled Alexander's henchmen stepping out before they held the door open for a third man, equally as well-dressed in a dark suit, but despite the sunglasses on his face, Jade could only with great strength suppress her initial shock when she recognised what kind of contact they were faced with, had passed his face so many times on campaign posters in the streets, and she swallowed hard when Alexander stepped forward and away from her, Cook and the other security guard unloading several boxes from the trunk of the car.

She was surprised by the small capacity of the deal, that it was all in the one car, that Alexander and his contact were there personally, little security, exchanging a nod of mutual respect and equal acknowledgement, shades drawn, and when Alexander stepped forward and shook his hand, Jade had never been more attracted to him, there was so much confidence, more than ever he was sure of himself, sure that he was untouchable, even out in the open by the water with minimal security, stepping back and scratching the bridge of his nose as he observed Cook placing down the commodity between them.

A simple nod and one of the security men opposite them stepped up to open the top box. “It's all packed properly” he called back to his superior.

Alexander's jaw tensed, his brows furrowing. “Of course it is” he said, his voice calm and collected but Jade could sense the underlying danger, anger coiling beneath the surface. “Who d'yeh fink I am?”

“Mr. Turner, I'm just making sure.”

Jade reacted instantly when she saw Alexander wave her over, reaching into the top pocket of his suit to retrieve his cigarettes, lighting one quickly and placing it between his lips, adjusting his collar as he took the smoke between his fingers and took a deep breath, blowing the smoke slowly up towards the night sky. “Evrehfin's there” he drawled. “No pickin' it up until I've got me moneh. And yehr word tha' yeh're gunna continue teh 'onour our alliance.”

The other man nodded, waving to his other henchman to carry over a suitcase, opening it and letting Helders inspect the contents before he snapped it shut, Helders carrying it to the back of the car at the same time as his counterparts picked the boxes up that stood between the two different parties. “You have my word. Soon you'll be making deals with the new mayor.”

Alex chuckled darkly. “Yeh 'ave me vote.”

Another nod, both his henchmen retreating to the car. “It'll benefit you, Mr. Turner. You run a successful business, within the city and beyond it.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Things can only go uphill for you.”

“And you” Alex stated, looking slowly from him to Jade, following his gaze.

“It's been a pleasure making business with you. And your lovely bird. Never seen anyone so relaxed around you, Turner.”

“Good luck with the election” Alex responded, his arm locking possessively around Jade again, then he guided her to turn around and head back to the car, making sure she got in first before he followed, all tension lifting from his body when they drove out and away from the docks first, the lights of the city much brighter, illuminating his face as they rushed by and Jade watched his features flicker in the darkness, inching closer to him where he sat, his hand on her hip not enough for her as they sat in the backseat.

She fiddled with his chain, her body facing his from the side, the three men sat around them the only thing keeping her from climbing into his lap. She could tell he was satisfied, pleased with himself and how smoothly things had gone, after everything, Kane was right, this success made everything else seem unimportant.

Her heart skipped a beat when he turned his head and locked her eyes, an irresistible half-smirk plastered on his face that had her leaning closer, brushing his hair back, reveling in the way he leaned into her touch, stretching his jaw slightly, his eyes wide. “I'm impressed, baby.”

He chuckled. “Well, 's easeh when people dun't fookin' disrespect meh. Told yeh there'd be summat teh celebrate.” He leaned closer, brushing her hair to the side slowly to press his lip against her ear. “Get down on yehr knees 'n treat meh like the fookin' maestro I am when weh get 'ome and I'll show yeh joost 'ow fookin' impressive I can beh.”

#alex turner #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner fanfic #alex turner/oc #mafia!al #mafia au #jade rivera #alex/jade #arctic monkeys #The Last Shadow Puppets #adt #chaptered fic #writing #napule nights

43 notes · View notes