#give us the 3 hour cut Matthew

[somaneeshipz]

Why, why why WHY!?!?!?!??? I need to understand why this was cut? Aside from being beautifully and heartbreakingly acted by Nick, the story and the language directly feed Alex’s statement to Henry about protecting his heart and nothing happening to him!!! Without this scene, yes, Alex’s words made sense and hit home in a roundabout way. But with this scene, they just land absolutely perfectly. Henry’s immediate surrender just makes so much more sense!!! Argh!!!!! For the love of all that is fucking holy, Matthew, we KNOW the 3 hour cut exists. Don’t peddle us bullshit about it being an overblown statement. Slap all of these beautiful deleted nuggets back where they belong and give us the Matthew Lopez Finally Admits Yes There’s A 3-hour Cut cut and take my fricking money!!!!!

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐅*𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.

-ˏˋ. 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˊˎ-

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — FWB!matthew tkachuk x f!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 1.7k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — "old habits die hard..." — or, your boyfriend won’t fuck you right, so you run to the one person who always does.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — patrons know the chokehold this toxic sin-fest has on me and probably always will... in all seriousness, this is one of my favorite things i've ever published and i am so insanely proud of it. i hope you love it as much as i do <3

(spoiler — not possible teehee)

18+ MDNI — content warnings under the cut.

𝐜𝐰 — profanity, innuendo, matthew’s filthy mouth and lack of morals, cheating (not on matty or the reader), outdated/incorrect information about having sex for the first time, borderline too much degradation, some objectification to add a little spice, unprotected sex w a cheeky creampie (what did you expect from two morally bankrupt individuals written by me, a retired whore?), matthew being a noncommittal, possessive piece of shit joking about knocking people up for funzies

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“D’you think you’re so addicted to my cock because you know I don’t give a fuck what you think about me? Or care if you think I’m a Nice Guy?”

Even buried to the hilt—bare with nothing between you and far too fucking close for comfort—Matthew Tkachuk runs his mouth like he’s got nothing to lose and even less to prove. He’s insufferable, his only redeeming quality being the pulsing appendage threatening to split you in half as you buck in his lap.

With your hands braced against his hard chest for leverage, you drown out his grating voice, chasing the white-hot surges, bolts of lightning leading you to the brink of collapse with renewed vigor.

The sooner you come, the sooner he’s gone.

“All I care about, sweetheart, is fucking you good and hard. Giving it to you like the hungry, cockdrunk whore that you are.”

Debonair attitude. Sly confidence. Vulgar demeanor.

Filthy fucking mouth.

You were warned about Matthew Tkachuck. Repeatedly. Warned about him and his complete lack of a filter, about his total disregard for anyone’s feelings but his own. His aversion to commitment, to monogamy, to propriety.

All the things that repulse you about the man lounging on expensive hotel sheets beneath you—as you do all the work—lure you back to him in equal measure. He shouldn’t turn you on, but that’s exactly why he does. He’s all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Which makes him just right.

“I bet if your fiancé walked in right now, you’d just keep riding me. You wouldn’t even notice, would you? After all, you haven’t cum yet. And that’s all you care about, right? Using my cock to get your rocks off because Billy Boyfriend’s too scared to give you what you really need. Lucky for you, I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I don’t treat you like a fragile doll because I know you’ll take anything I give you—and beg for more. I treat you like what you are, not some chaste little princess.”

You’ve been with Bill for nearly a decade, engaged for more than a year. It’ll be a spring wedding, probably. If the venue pans out, and the caterer finally calls you back with a final quote.

Perfect on paper.

He doesn’t pay attention to you the way he used to. Just throws money at the problem until he can bury himself in work again, undisturbed by you or nagging obligation.

Flowers for being three hours late, a necklace for missing dinner entirely. A trip overseas when he had to go into the office on your anniversary.

But he’s nice, so fucking nice it hurts, and more loyal than the Golden Retriever he wants to adopt after the honeymoon. After you’re settled into a custom-build nestled comfortably in the suburbs and far away from the city. White picket fence, manicured lawn, barely-there speed limits.

It's all so nauseatingly idyllic. So perfectly attuned with what you thought you wanted, what you spent your childhood coveting.

All your single friends are jealous; your committed friends are resentful. Your family loves him, and even though you’ve got a fucked up way of showing it, so do you.

And he loves you too. He’s just busy. It’ll be different once we’re settled, he says. You try to believe him, though not as hard as you should. You tell yourself it's because he doesn’t either.

Bill’s gotten lazy. You’ve gotten bored.

You’re no angel, and never claimed to be. You just want to feel good.

Matthew barks out a dry laugh, almost like he can read your mind.

“You haven’t been since I first got you on your knees at his birthday party. And definitely not after I popped that sweet cherry you were so adamant about saving for him."

Bill doesn’t fuck you. He never has.

He makes love to you. It’s that romance-novel tenderness that got you here in the first place. Slow, sweet, and nearly devoid of passion. It’s so gentle you have to think of him just to come.

How he fucks you.

How tightly he yanks your hair, craning your neck until it aches. How hard he kneads and smacks your ass, bullying the skin until you sob. How deep his cock reaches. And how he takes, takes, takes without forethought. How could you accept a lifetime of only tame rutting in the face of Pavlovian depravity?

It’s awful, and it's so profoundly selfish, but his everything has you in a bind.

Matthew’s everything is ruining your life.

An uncharacteristic wave of guilt and sadness washes over you, and before you can catch yourself, you’re staring down at the engagement ring. The band constricts, digging into your finger like it's out for blood when you glimpse the indentation it left behind on Matthew’s peck. You wince, then choke down the shame lodged in your throat, screwing your eyes shut to will it away.

“If it's bothering you that much, take it off. I’ll keep it safe for you.” —wink— “I can’t imagine the weight of a rock like that, especially one you don’t even deserve. But, if you actually felt as guilty as you claim to, you wouldn’t be this wet on another man’s cock. Don’t play saint now. You’ll ruin the fun.”

You can’t do this right now; you can’t have this worn-out fight. So, you say what you always say even though you’ve long since stopped trying to mean it.

“You keep saying that, sweetheart. We should stop. This is the last time. But no matter what you say, you always come crawling back to me sooner or later because I have what you need. Because I’m not him. Because I fuck you better.”

His words light you on fire. You hate it, but how deeply your body enjoys them is undeniable. How tightly you squeeze and flutter with every degrading line, choking his cock as you use him to satisfy your own perverted needs. How his brutal honesty, his refusal to let you forget your zealous participation in the affair for even a second, arches your back and hardens your nipples.

Even without all that evidence stacked against you, the blitzed-out look on your face says it all. One look at you and everyone would know just how right Matthew is.

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl.

You say it for the sake of saying it. To know, when you curl into Bill's side tonight, that you said something to deny his assessment of you.

But the last thing you want is for him to shut his mouth.

Not right now, not when you’re right there—

“You can’t hide from me, sweetheart, and you can’t lie to me. You can’t fool me, either. I see right fucking through you. It terrifies you—and you love it.”

His raspy voice swims freely through your hollowed-out mind. It unwittingly thumbs through every unforgivable memory, like some sort of pornographic Rolodex.

Matthew’s hips grinding against yours in darkened corners and dive-bar bathroom stalls and poker tables.

His hands fighting against hard-earned sweat in the foggy backseat of his car, battling to find purchase anywhere he can so he can keep rutting with reckless abandon before you’re expected home.

His fingertips burrowing into the sides of your throat, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to silence, hard enough to hurt.

Him spilling inside of you, ropes painting the sacred place white with no remorse or expectation of responsibility.

Matty’s hand over your mouth, urging you to be fucking quiet as he pistons in and out, in and out, keeping you pinned against the bathroom door, against the only thing standing between Bill and the worst discovery of his apple-pie life—

Old habits die hard.

Especially when it’s one that always feels that fucking good. No matter how lecherous or immoral.

Or how badly the betrayal would hurt someone underserving and innocent.

“Even if you walk down that aisle and take his last name, you’ll still belong to me. Wedding or not, this pathetic, weeping cunt belongs to me. But it’s all gonna be okay, though. Don’t you worry that pretty, empty head. I don’t mind sharing my toys. Especially with someone who could never compete.”

You can't compete where you don't compare.

He doesn’t want to be your boyfriend. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. He isn’t the Relationship Type. He doesn’t even want to be exclusive. That’s part of his appeal, no matter how fervently you deny it. He doesn’t want more than pleasure—primal, deviant pleasure—and that’s all you're looking for.

That's all you need.

“Where do you want my load, dirty girl?”

“Inside. I-Inside me, please, Matty.”

“Right answer.”

The burst of warmth is like getting a perfect grade you didn’t earn. Or feeling the cash your sibling gave you in exchange for not ratting them out sitting in your back pocket. It's hard to feel bad about the wrong you’ve done when the payoff is so deliciously worthwhile.

Matthew twitches, still hugged by your sensitive walls, and you shudder.

This is the high you chase every time you bend your morals until they splinter. The still nothingness that lays beyond the denouement, where everything is glowy and the pit inside you appears not-so-bottomless for once. The lack of expectations and obligations. The sheer freedom that stringless pleasure, that sensual self-indulgence provides.

Matthew doesn’t owe you anything, you don’t owe him anything either, and neither of you pretends otherwise.

And you sure as fuck don’t trip on his dirty laundry every time you walk into the bedroom.

“If that doesn’t take,” Matthew flicks his hips in emphasis, “…let me know when and where you want your wedding present, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer. You push his hands away and roll off of him unceremoniously. But he keeps talking.

Matthew is always talking.

“Oh, and before I forget, would you be a dear and let Billy know I won’t be able to make it for his bachelor party? I don’t know why, but I have the oddest feeling that something desperately needing my attention will come up.”

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

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[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 1 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Your Step Father would like to introduce you into high society but you're required to take lessons to learn how to play the part and from your instructor's perspective it seems like you have a lot of catching up to do. Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Explicit Language, not really anything else at this point lol a/n: Planning on turning this into a short series so please let me know what you think <3 p.s. this is horribly edited and was written in one sitting lol

"Why do I have to suffer the consequences of the decisions you made for this family?" I say chasing after my mother as she walks down the main hallway in our new home. "Y/n becoming a debutant is not a consequence" she says, making her way into the main living room.

"To me it is" I complain, dreading this entire ordeal already. "The whole process only lasts about a year so-" "A year? You expect me to be parade around in pretty dresses and entertain people I have absolutely no interest in just because you decided to marry a rich man? Yeah, no I'm not doing it" I say, watching as she takes a seat on the couch waiting for me to tell her my grievances, knowing that I won't back down easily. 

"It's not a huge commitment I promise. You'll have etiquette lessons twice a week, go to a fitting every once in a while and take dance lessons once a week. I'm sure you can sacrifice a few hours out of your week for this. "Your father wa-" "Step father" I cut her off, making my stance on the man known. "Your step father wants to introduce you as his daughter and the best way to do so would be having you come out at a debutant ball" she explains hoping to show me their reasoning behind it. "Oh I'm straight so don't worry I won't be needing a coming out event or anything like that" I say teasing her. 

"Very funny" she says clearly unamused, "I would really appreciate it if you just did this for us, and if you don't want to do it for us then do it for you, for your future. Do you know how pivotal this moment could be for you? A lot of important people go to these balls so if you want to make a name for yourself in this city then that's a great place to start" she says hoping to entice me, showing how this could benefit me as well. "Just think about it, okay?" she says standing up to leave the room and placing a hand on my shoulder as a sign of reassurance, leaving me conflicted. 

A few days later at the breakfast table I finally decide to give them my answer. "Um, dad" I say hoping to get his attention. "Yes honey?" he says putting down the newspaper that he had just been flipping through. "I think I want to go through with the whole debutant thing if you still wanted me to" I say playing with my sleeve, still unsure of the choice I've made but I guess theres no going back now. "That's great! I'll contact the agency and get all of your lessons set up straight away" he says quickly texting his assistant, asking them to get things set in motion.

"Would you prefer private lessons or would you like to take them with some of the other girls that are preparing to come out as well?" he questions, still looking down at his phone. "Oh it's okay don't worry about getting her pri-" "Private lessons would be great" I say cutting my mom off. The less interactions I can have with these spoiled rich kids, the better. I send her a tight lipped smile, telling her to back off before I change my mind and she does just that. 

"Alright, I have Matthew working on it now so we could probably get everything set up by the time your classes end. You finish up at four right?" he asks, catching me off guard, "You know my class schedule?" I question. "Of course I do! What kind of father would I be if I didn't pay attention to my daughter's academics?" he says, giving me a warm smile before taking one last sip of his coffee, standing up to go. 

"I've gotta head off, love you" he says giving my mother a quick peck and then coming over to me to give me a kiss on the top of my head. "Have a good day you two" he says to us as his final adieu, heading out to where his driver is waiting for him. "Thank you" my mother says, happy with the effort I'm putting into assimilating our family. "I'm doing this for you guys, but I'm also doing this for me like you had said, I guess I'll just have to suffer through it for the next year" I say, already questioning myself. 

"I promise you won't regret it!" she reassures me, reaching out for my hand across the table and I mirror her action. 'I sure hope not' I say to myself and give her a pained smile before leaving to head off to class. 

"You're what?" my friend Jesse say, not believing a word I just said. "I'm gonna start taking lessons to become a debutante" I say, repeating myself, hoping he'll just take in the information so we can move past it. "So you're blowing me off so you can go to Barbie school?" he says, still in disbelief. "It's not Barbie school" I say rolling my eyes at him before sitting down at the table we usually hang out at during our breaks. 

"Aren't they going to be dressing you up and making you all girly so you can go to tea parties and balls?" he questions, sitting across from me. "Yes..." I say trailing off not being able to prove him wrong. "Barbie school" he says satisfied with himself, taking a bite out of the apple he had just bought for dramatic affect. "Whatever" I say crossing my arms across my chest. "So when do you start?" he asks, suddenly curious about the topic. "Matthew sent me a text with the address I'm supposed to go to for my first etiquette lesson so I guess I'll be headed there after class. 

"And Matthew is...?" he questions, "My dad's assistant, I've told you this like five times already" I say rolling my eyes at him. "I'm sorry okay, there have been a lot of changes in your life and brand new characters added to the cast so it's hard to keep it all straight" he explains. "Name one other person besides Matthew that I've told you about" I say with a raised brow, curious as to who these 'new characters' might be. "Your step dad" he says proudly, not elaborating further. 

"Anyone else?" I ask, rolling my eyes at the cop out answer he gave me and he decides to sit in silence after putting little to no thought into anyone else I might've told him about. "Do you even know his name?" I scoff, feigning irritation. "Scott? No Thomas!" he says confident in his second answer. "It's James" I say standing up and grabbing my stuff so I can walk towards my next class. 

"I'm sorry, you know I have shit memory" he says throwing his arm around my shoulder after catching up to me, having only been a few steps behind. "I know" I shake my head laughing it off, "It's funny how clueless you are sometimes" I say, shrugging his arm off of me. "Hey!" he whines, semi offended. "It's okay though, I still love you" I say waving him off as we part in different directions and blowing a kiss at him which he bats off to the side, rejecting my love. "Later loser" he says and we head off to our respective classes.

After the lecture is finally over my professor calls me to the front. "Yes?" I question, waiting for what he has to tell me. "I read your paper last night" he starts, "I'm sorry Professor I had some other assignments due at the same time so I wasn't able to put in as much effort as I wanted to" I confess feeling guilty about putting that assignment on the back burner. "Well I was actually going to tell you that I was rather impressed with it" he says looking up at me from his seated position at his desk, fixing his glasses. 

"Really?" I question, surprised that it was good enough for him to even single out. "I wanted to ask if you would be interested in participating in this writing contest at the end of next month" he proposes and hands me the flyer showing all of the details. "You really think my writing is good enough?" I question, not even having considered signing up for something like this. "I wouldn't be speaking to you about it if I didn't think it was" he says laughing at my reactions. 

"This would be amazing thank you!" I say starting to skim through the details real quick. "You can take that with you if you'd like" he offers and at that I nod in thanks and say my goodbyes before walking out and heading out towards my car. 

"Now where exactly is this place?" I ask myself aloud, pulling up the text I got and putting the address into my gps. "45 minutes?" I say in astonishment, now slightly panicked seeing that even if I leave now I'll still be 10 minutes late. "What the hell Matthew?" I curse and put my seatbelt on, speeding out of the parking lot and down the street, praying that I'll be able to somehow shave a few minutes off the eta to make it in time.

"Punctuality is one of the most important aspects of proper etiquette" I hear the man say to me with his back turned as I walk into the area of his home he has dedicated to these lessons. "I'm very sorry I did not realize how far these lessons would be in relation to my University" I apologize hating that I've already made a bad impression which has clearly started us off on the wrong foot. 

"Proper planning is also something you must consider to be able to maintain a certain sense of decorum before arriving to your intended destination" he says still with his back to me. "I apologize again Mr. Jeon it won't happen again" I say using what I hope is the proper way he would like to be addressed. "See that it doesn't" he says finally turning around to face me. I nod my head in acknowledgement and he gives me a sour look showing he's displeased with my response. 

"One must verbally respond to properly communicate with one another" he says, placing his hands behind his back and interlocking his fingers while walking towards me and stalking around me like a predator sizing up his prey. "Understood" I respond and once he finally comes back around facing me he looks me up and down one last time before uttering another word. 

"For your next lesson be sure to come in a dress or skirt that sits at the knee as well as stockings and heels of some sort and a blouse of course to pair with the skirt. If one wants to act like a lady, one must dress like a lady" he says and turns away to grab something in the corner of the room. "Noted" I say under my breath already exasperated, "What was that?" he questions looking over his shoulder at me, sorting through a few books to bring over. "Understood Mr. Jeon" I say, trying to play along and follow his rules.

"Seeing as we need to start from the very beginnings of the art of etiquette I need you to read these books by this time next week" he says handing me five very large books weighing my arms down and requiring me to stumble back to regain my balance. "All of them in a week? That's almost a book a day!" I say surprised by the workload I've been given after not even starting the actual lesson yet.

"I was not aware of the fact I would be required to teach you everything from the very start so let's just say we both have a lot of work to do" he says and motions towards a place I can set my purse down along with my five new headaches for this next week.

"Take a seat here please" he now motions to a chair that he has placed in the middle of the room waiting for me to do as he says. I walk up cautiously and take a seat, sitting on it like I normally would, knowing that he's meant to critique how I sit to change it. "Sit up straight, roll your shoulders back" he says taking in my posture at all angles while I follow along with his orders. "Loosen the tension in your back and shoulders" he says placing his hands on my shoulders from behind making me tense up even more from the unexpected contact. 

"You've done the opposite of what I've asked you to" he says and I can hear how fed up with me he continues to be. "You startled me, I didn't realize you were going to do that" I say under my breath but loud enough for him to hear. "One must never mumble or talk back to anyone no matter the circumstances. Especially aimed to or in front of an authority figure" he says and walks back around to face me again. "So you see yourself as an authority figure to me?" I question, curious to see what his answer might be.

"I see myself as someone who deserves your respect and obedience" he says and tilts my chin up with his pointer finger maintaining purposeful eye contact. "And you will treat me as such". 

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[mamirhodessxox]

Hey There Delilah (Bonus Chapter)

Dilf!Cody Rhodes x Fem!OC (Delilah Jones)

Desc: Cody is Celebrating his 39th birthday & Delilah refuses to hear his protests on her getting him any sort of gift but she refuses to listen and takes things into her own hands,

Contents: Fluff, Dilf!Cody, Alcohol (champagne/wine consumption), Smut, Soft Sex, Cockwarming, Cuddle sex, making out, crying, slight overstimulation, slight bottom!cody moment.

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @mini-rollins @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @bones-rhodes @cococodysleevlesshoodie @edtomh @ihatecodyrhodes @ayeeitsali @lisatommo28

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

“So if he said no gifts why are you still getting him a gift” Mira questioned over the phone while she sat in her & Randy’s shared living room working on her nails while Delilah huffed in the kitchen over the speaker why she made the babies lunch “Cody likes being the gift giver & I want him to start getting used to get gifts as-well. All I got him so far was a painting of our wedding dance but he deserves more!” Mira scrunched her face and smiled “Easy! Fuck em’ You do it anyways”

Delilah rolled her eyes while watching Matthew & Mirabella play in their playpin while she finished cutting up their food into their regular age appropriate bite sized chunks “Mira C’monn.” The red head grinned over the phone before sighing in relief her nail polish came out perfectly “Go to the mall Delilah, get a little lingerie set in a color he likes you in the most & a little side gift with that.” The blonde girl awkwardly bit her lip before taking the babies to their high chairs & feeding them their lunch “I don’t think that would be a good idea, thats a bit more revealing than I’m used too“ Mira hummed in disagreement “Bullshit, you’ve been full on naked in front of him more than 1000 times right now. How else do you think you got pregnant last year.”

“True. It just seems so..scandalous too me though, with the lingerie getup.” Mira listened intently “Not more scandalous than having out of marriage sex while trying to live up to your religious standards.” Lilah smiled to herself a little bit before checking the time “I’m gonna head out now while he’s still getting Kinsley. I’ll talk to you later.” She had hung up & got the babies in their car seats in her own car before locking up the doors & getting in & driving.

20 minutes after getting to the mall Lilah awkwardly stared at the Victorias Secret store & looking at the comic store right across from it “in & out.” She muttered before pushing the stroller before quickly grabbing a baby pink lingerie set in her size while rushing towards the register. A young woman was pushing charging Delilah while smiling “This is cuute” Lilah smiled back as she paid “Thank you, have a good day.”

Meanwhile hours later Cody & Kinsley were back at the house, The 12 year old sat at the table working on her homework while Cody tidied up a little before becoming bored of the babies & his wife out and about, “Did Lilah ever tell you she had plans today before I took you to school?” Kinsley smiled shrugging to herself “Nope, try calling her pr something.” Around 2 seconds later Lilah huffed as she entered the house with the babies & hiding random shopping bags in the stroller “Home!” Cody approached her pointing towards the bags while giving her a welcoming kiss “Those better not be for me.” She pouted a little bit before setting the babies in the play pen while he followed behind her “Codes we stalked about this..” he hummed in agreement while gently tickling Matthew & Mirabella’s tummies “Mhmm~ we did and I recall me telling you under no circumstances you need to buy me gifts love” Lilah rolled her eyes and patting Kinsley’s back “Did’ya eat dinner yet?” The younger girl nodded to herself while grabbing her homework “ate dinner, I’m gonna be in my room & go to bed.” She nodded with a smile while Cody stood leaning against the kitchen archway with crossed arms “Gorgeous you know how I feel when you get me gifts.” She furrowed her expression while wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her chin on his chest while looking up at him with her sweet little doe eyes “I don’t like it when you don’t get anything in return, Especially on your own day.” He smiled down at her softly before raising her hand up towards his lips to press a kiss against her little fist while she stared at him through her lashes “Can I at least show you after I feed the babies & put them too bed?”

He stared at her briefly before pressing a kiss into her forehead “Do what you need to do love, I’m gonna check up on Pharaoh.” She smiled nodding before taking care of the babies for the next few hours, Bathing them, Feeding them, reading to them, tucking them both into slumber and giving them all of her love while kissing their plump little cheeks before shutting their nursery door, setting his Birthday cake she had to buy in the fridge & setting up the bedroom by putting to drinking glasses filled with champagne on each side of the beside tables before nervously putting on the lace set she bought earlier in the day in front of the mirror.

Cody walked in the room to grab something before diverting all of his attention to his sweet girl whose blonde curls laid delicately on her shoulders “Well aren’t you the sweetest thing.” He hugged her from behind while she curled her lips up slightly before turning her head to see him up close “see? Just wanted to look pretty for you.” He pressed adoring kisses around her face, neck & shoulders “Your already so pretty for me doll, you trying to kill me?” He grinned while nibbling on the nape if her neck before looking around to see the champagne glasses before running his fingers through her hair “All this for me? I must be a deserving man” he teased before sitting on the edge of the bed while Delilah smiled and crawled herself right onto of his lap” “You like it?” He chuckled before rolling them both over and kisses down to her chest & stomach “I love it pretty girl.” He teased while biting at her lace panties & teasing her wet spot “cccodyy..”

Delilah whine while he would tease her lace covered pussy “What is it princess? Hm?” He faked his pout as his lips curled into a smirk, he finally pushed her panties to the side, Cody eventually sat up & undressed himself in front of her, the moment he leaned down her hands grazed down his arms to his stomach “Your so handsome.” She breathed out while the two kissed each other in a partially sloppy manner as he sat her legs up a little bit while his hands ran up her waist “so pretty” his words poured out of his mouth while her hands held his arms “I love you so much.” Delilah sighed out while he pushed himself inside of her in-between her thighs. He burrowed his head in her neck letting out moans every now and then while she was busy keeping quiet and releasing any choked up breaths while kissing his cheek profusely he rolled his hips into hers & lifted his head while forcing her to look back at him “so f-fucking gorgeous.” He whined while she scattered hickeys around his upper body while he continued thrusting into her feeling her pussy clench around him, Cody squeezed his hands into her skin while his head went limp against her chest letting out short whimpers that vibrated against her skin “f-feels so good baby.”

She muttered before he flipped her onto her stomach with her ass held up in-front of him, He thrusted back inside of her and ran his hands down her back and scooping her up against his chest as he continued fucking her “how’re you feeling beautiful” he mumbled into her ear as his hand slid down in-between her legs & toying with her clit as Delilah let out a needy moan & pressing her ass further against him “t-taking my cock so good for me princess” he groaned before halting his thrusts and just kept her sitting on his dick while he teased her clit while she cried & mewled scratching her nails against his arms while her hips buckled upwards while he groaned at the tightened feeling around his dick inside of her. “Babby~..” he shushed her before kissing the shell of her ear before continuing on with his thrusts & eventually cumming deep inside of her & nearly painting her insides white.

She moaned into the pillow as her hips shook once she realized Cody wasn’t planning on stopping for a few more minutes, they both laid on their sides under the blankets while he held her softly & still slowly thrusting in & out of her “f-fuck cody..!” She whined before he pouted against her neck & left soothing kisses against her skin “just a little bit longer sweetheart~” his words staggering as he decided to no longer move at the moment. Delilah’s body went limp against his and straight into his arm. He smiled softly as he rubbed her back “thank you for the birthday g-“ she looked up interrupting him “T-Theres cake for you in the fridge & a big gift bag in the closet from me & the kids.” She whispered while he grinned ear to ear and leaned into their pillows “sweetheart you didn’t have to.” She removed body from his and wrapped around the blankets “go get some cake first & open your gift.” Cody huffed tiredly while getting out of the bed & cleaning them both up before he put on any clothes, he took the next 7 minutes to get then some cake to share in bed, he set the plate on her bed side table for a hot second before going in the closet as she instructed & stood frozen as he looked at the large painting of the twos first dance together at their wedding, he looked down seeing multiple sweet treats that he liked to have as snacks next to the bottoms of the photo.

He walked back into the room & made his way on the bed “It’s beautiful sweetheart.” He spoke to her in a gently tone while she smiled to herself and held a fork with some cake on-top of it “Happy birthday Cody.” She teased while he let out a defeated chuckle as he took the bite of cake.

@mamirhodessxox’s Masterlist

[ughgoaway]

your lil sick matty blurb makes me think of the first time baby annie is sick and just fussy and restless and matty being a new dad absolutely does not know what to do (throwback to annie chest wrap blurb where absolutely everyone gets involved eventually) i think he calls adam late at night slightly panicked because she won’t stop crying and she feels warm and he doesn’t know if he should take her to the hospital (it’s literally a cold and a slight fever) anywayyyyy, i have many many thoughts on this goodbye

VVVVVVVVV yes I adore this. I just know he is freaking tf out the whole time. He hears her cough once and is just staring at her constantly.

He's standing over the crib watching her, listening out for a cough or sniffle, but she seems to be alright… For now, anyway.

Eventually, he sleeps in Annie's room, sitting on a chair in the corner. He's not quite ready to leave her alone yet.

It's then that he finally understands the concept of a mother's intuition.

But 20 minutes later, a scream wakes him right up, and baby Annie is just crying endlessly. She clearly feels poorly, and Matty just doesn't know what to do :((

He rocks her in his arms, then on a rocking chair, he changes her, feeds her, gets her new clothes, and bathes her. He truly tries EVERYTHING.

But Annie won't stop crying and seeing her wet eyes with rosy red cheeks and a snotty nose is breaking him.

He ditches Dr. Google and goes to the thousand parenting books he bought before she was born to see if they have anything useful. He assumed the books would make him less scared, but somehow, they made it worse.

It's 3 am when Matty starts to really panic, she's been crying for 4 hours and refusing to eat. She’s also a tiny bit hot, or at least Matty convinces himself that she is.

He's googling furiously to see if he can give her any medication, but the more he reads, the more he freaks out.

He gets his shirt off and tries skin-to-skin with the baby wrap. He's hoping it will soothe her a tiny bit. Thank god annie eventually settles, only for 5 minutes, but it's enough time for a panicked call to Adam.

He's now convinced himself that Annie has scarlet fever, pneumonia, or smallpox. Or maybe all three at the same time.

(impossible, and Annie only has a slight cold. but he is a new dad - give him a break, okay?)

Needless to say, Adam isn't over the moon with the 4 am phone call. But once he answers the phone to Matty in a panic, he realises his friend needs him. So he's slightly less pissed, but when Annie is better Matty fucking owes him.

“She's got a fever. And her cheeks are all red. She won't eat. She won't sleep. I just don't know what to do, Adam??”

“MATTHEW. You do not get to call me at 4 a.m., freak out down the phone, and then ignore me.”

The whole time Adam is trying to cut in, but Matty is ignoring him completely.

“does she need to go to the hospital? How do I get a newborn to the hospital? She hasn't even really been in the car yet. Is there a baby part of the hospital? What if she needs surgery?? All the tools will be too big for her tiny body-”

For the first time all night, Matty takes a deep breath. 

“Right. Yes. sorry. I just had no idea what to do. I can't cope when im ill. But it turns out that when your child is ill, it is 1000x worse. this whole parent thing is hard”

Adam begrudgingly wakes Carly up, and they both calm Matty down. They explain that she doesn't have any diseases, but she probably has a slight cold. They tell him how much Calpol to give her and how to get her temperature down.

On the other side of the phone, Matty is slightly bouncing on the spot to soothe the grumbly baby on his chest as he's taking notes on what they're saying. 

“Good okay…Yes. Okay, im gonna go do all that”

“That sounds good Matty, let us know how she is tomorrow, okay?” Carly says softly, leaning on Adam's shoulder half asleep.

“I will. Thank you guys. I love you both”

“We love you too” and “gay” come from the phone at the same time, which oddly was exactly what Matty needed. 

By 6 a.m., Annie is cooler and is sleepy soundly in her cot. The same cannot be said for Matty. 

He is watching like a hawk and trying not to fall asleep standing up. His eyes keep on dropping, but every time Annie wiggles or makes a noise, his heart jumps, and he wakes right back up.

At some point, he goes to make a coffee and sits down as the kettle boilsm just 5 minutes of rest he assures himself. But Matty falls asleep at the table with his mouth open and heavy snores leaving him. 

Furious knocking at 10 am scares him half to death, and he trudges to the front door, eyes still heavy with sleep. He catches a quick look at himself in the hallway mirror and can't hide his disgust. 

His hair is insane, curls going in every direction and sticking on end from his stressed hands running through them. He has heavy bags under his eyes and bone-dry lips. He has some dried sick on his shoulder and an empty baby wrap loosely on his chest. 

But if he's honest, he couldn't give less of a fuck right now.

“What.” is how he answers the door, clearly not exactly thrilled with any visitors, but his face scrunched in confusion when all the boys are on the other side of the door.

“Why are you all here?” he asks as he rubs his eyes and walks back into his house, leaving the door open for them to follow.

“Hann told us Annie was sick, is she okay?” George asks worriedly, looking around the room for any sign of the infant. 

“Yeah, he said you called him at like 4 am, and she had a fever. We were worried about her” says Ross as he goes to boil the kettle to make coffee for a clearly sleep-deprived and groggy matty. 

“I tried to tell them she'd be okay, but they demanded to come over here and see her.” Adam rolls his eyes as he speaks, but still quietly adds, “ and I kinda wanted to see her too.”

That's the first thing in the past 24 hours that puts a smile on Matty's face. 

“You're all such saps.”

The three men scoff but don't make any real effort to deny it.

Matty grabs Annie from her cot, and she couldn't be happier this morning, same gummy smile and grabby hands as usual. She still has a snotty nose and pink cheeks, but it's clear she's feeling better.

The next 40 minutes are basically a game of pass the Annie as each man gets an opportunity to hold her and double-check she is okay. 

George scans her carefully, tracing every inch of her to make sure she's really okay. He holds her close to his chest and doesn't take his eyes off her the whole time she's on him.

Ross just holds her to his chest and sits on the sofa softly rocking her. He says soft things to her that no one can quite make out to and smiles down at her.

Adam has a rattle that she loves and does everything he can to make her happy again. resting her on his lap, showing her toys, shaking her rattle, and just smiling at her with a big grin. 

Annie settles in a small bassinet in the front room, and the 4 men sit on Matty’s sofas with tea and coffee in silence. All secretly listening for any signs of discomfort.

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (III.3)

III. Your greatest fear

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: Your classes test you in unimaginable ways 

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, classism, charms and curses, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 3,4 k

Notes: I’m adapting a lot of parts of the books… hehe…

Have you seen Brooklyn 99? if you have you’ll now this

If you see something say something, come on and party tonighttttt wooooooo

Tuesday nor Wednesday Draco went to classes, his arm still tightly taped to his side, you helped him in what you could, no, actually, in what he would let you help him, you offered to carry his bag but he made Goyle do it, he wouldn’t let you personally carry his things or help him up, nothing that would require strength, you wanted to feel insulted, but what he truly meant is that he did not wanted you to “trouble” yourself

Also he was enjoying the attention you and Pansy were giving him, letting you fix his hair and robes, and even help him eat

It felt nice to help a friend

So Thursday you had potions, and Dray could not miss that.

Most classes would put aside one block, one hour and a half of your schedule, but not potions.

Many took too long to prepare, so once a week, you had THREE consecutive hours to brew potions and be almost tortured by Professor Snape

Even though they were almost on the same floor, the potions classroom was nothing like your common room. It was stuffy, damp and the various smells from the potions made it really hard to breathe or have a nice time, on the contrary, it also depended on the potion that was being brewed, sometimes they made the air lighter, so every class was everyone’s guess.

All eyes where on you when you arrived with Draco to the potions classroom, you shared the class with the Gryffindors, and many of them looked annoyed when they saw Dray’s grimace 

Pansy wouldn’t leave your side either.

You didn’t know how to feel

You liked her, she was your friend, but you were not used to a “third wheel” in yours and Draco’s relationship, before there was Vince, Greg and even Matthew near him, but they couldn’t get that close to him

Pansy was managing to do so, and it made you a bit queasy 

Draco whimpered when you settle in your places and Pansy was on him on a 

"How is it, Draco?”, she asked, in a tone a bit sweet for your taste, "Does it hurt much?"

“Yes”, he said, trying to show himself brave, but as soon as Pansy looked away, he winked at Greg and Vince, you slapped his good arm, annoyed, he looked back at you apologetically

Your attention was called by Snape, the class was going to start

You were a bit late, but your professor didn’t say anything, you enjoyed more… freedom… with the head of your house than with other teachers, it almost made you a bit embarrassed

But then you remembered all teachers who were heads of houses had a soft spot for their students, Snape had a soft spot for you lot, his house.

“Today were going to be making a Shrinking solution”, snape Introduced, “please take out your ingredients” 

You were sharing one of the big tables with Potter, Granger, Longbottom, Weasley, Greg, Vince, Draco and Pansy

"Sir," Dray called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm…", you looked at him, wanting to offer your help, but Snape had other plans

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him"

“I can do it”, you whispered to him, but he shook you off

“He told Wesley to do it”, he said with a smirk, oh how he was enjoying this

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," Ron accused him

"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots”, he demanded, and Weasley started to masacre those poor roots

“Professor!”, called Draco, “Weasley is mutilating my roots!”, Snape even seemed happy with this arrangements

“Weasley, change roots with Malfoy”, he demanded, and you could barely choke in a giggle

So the redhead had to spend double time trying to fix his roots for himself to use, you tried to focus on your own ingredients, but Draco had you a bit on edge.

Don’t misinterpret this, it was fun to pick on Potter and Weasley, but not in the middle on the potions class, when many things could go wrong

"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Dray, pushing his luck, you actually liked working with the plant

“I can do it Dray”, you offered, and you felt Pansy’s heated gaze on you 

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," was the response

“It’s no trouble”, you insisted

“He said Potter to do it”, Draco said with a smile

Potter was quick to skin those poor plants, and slided them over the table at Draco as quickly as he could. Draco’s face was one of victory, he seemed pleased with himself. 

Oh but not yet

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?", he asked them with a mean smirk

"None of your business," responded Weasley.

It was a sore topic, you did not like the turn it had taken

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," Said Draco. "Father's not very happy about my injury… he complained to the school’s governors and all", he said, sighing, “And a lasting injury like this…who knows if my arm will ever be the same again?". You wanted to tell him to drop it, you did, back in the common room, but he wouldn’t listen, the horrible gash in his arm looked terrible.

“So that’s why you are doing this!”, said Potter, “you want to get him sacked!”

“Well, maybe”, teased Draco, “Weasley, why don’t you slice up my caterpillars for me?”

The Redhead was about to throw his cauldron at him, when Professor Snape walked by the table, looking into Longbottom’s cauldron

"Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?", his potion was the wrong color, and Neville looked like he was about to cry. 

"Please, sir," said Granger, there was something about her tone that you really found annoying, "I could help Neville put it right…", you couldn’t help but rolled your eyes, and Draco at your side snickered 

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," you couldn’t help but smile, Snape always saw right through the golden trio, "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly.", now that made you raise your eyes from your cauldron up to Neville, who’s hands started shaking

"Help!" he moaned, looking at the entire table

"Hey", said Seamus Finnigan, a Gryffindor who no matter what he was doing, he always managed to provoke an explosion, "Sirius Black's been sighted”, he said, you and Draco shared looks, “it’s all over the daily prophet”

"Where?" asked Potter, all the table were listening

"Dufftown," said Seamus, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here... " said Granger, then Weasley catches us looking

"What, Malfoy? Need something else skinned?", he asked

But Draco was looking at Potter with malice, and you knew exactly was he was about to say

 "Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?", he teased "Yeah, that's right," responded Potter, ever the petulant fool 

You knew what was coming, you had discussed it at length, Sirius black was the one that betrayed Harry’s Parents, causing them to die in the hands of the Dark Lord

"Of course, if it was me, I'd be out there looking for him.", said Draco, “I wouldn’t be staying in school like a good boy”

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?", asked Weasley. And you looked at Potter’s face, looking for any clue, but now it dawned on you… he didn’t know. He didn’t know what Black had done, of course you did, because uncle Lucius didknow, he was deep in the Ministry. 

But Potter didn’t know what Sirius had done to his family, and why he was out, probably looking for him.

"Don't you know, Potter?", asked Draco, truly surprised, but he looked like he did on Christmas mornings

"Know what?". Draco laughed cruelly, it made your skin crawl.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said. "Want to leave it to the dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"What are you talking about?" asked Potter angrily

You were going to tell Draco to stop, but Snape did it for you, calling the attention of the entire class 

"You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's... "

Neville stirred his cauldron miserably, with his mouth twisted in agony

You put away your things and Draco before he could say anything, you were somewhat happy that your potion was the right shade of color

A few minutes later, Snape was standing next to Neville, Theo and Matt stood by your side, to watch

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, “and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned”, you grabbed onto the hand that was closest to you, it was Theo’s, he looked at you alarmed, but you only watched as snape with a special instrument took a bit of the potion, while he held Trevor on his other hand

“Professor…”, you couldn’t help it, you were not thinking, Snape looked at you with those dark glistening eyes, “Trevor will… die?”, you asked fearfully, “we understand the consequences Sir, I don’t think it’s necessary…”

He seemed truly surprised 

“Hush your mouth Basilik, unless you want your points removed”, he said angrily. The Gryffindor seemed truly surprised as you intervened 

Theo didn’t released you, you squeezed his hands waiting for the inevitable, if that was Umbra instead, you’d be crying, as Neville shed a single tear of his trembling cheek 

Snape fed Trevor a spoonful of the potion…

You could drop a pin on the classroom and it would be heard loudly, everyone was looking expectantly… and then, with a pop, Trevor had become a tiny little tadpole.

You released Theo, taking a deep breath, relieved… 

Snape, who seemed like he didn’t get any presents for Christmass, took a vial from the insides of his robes and turn Trevor into his normal size again 

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed." 

You never walked out of potions so quickly, dragging a laughing Draco with you

You went to the great hall to have lunch, not before you sneaking out to the inner courtyard to take a long breath of fresh air, Winter was looming in and you could already feel the chill in the air even though the trees were already turning orange

You weren’t alone

“Hey, ppssttt”, you heard a shushing noise, you looked to your side and saw Theo and Matthew, hiding under the threshold of the castle’s door. Theo was hiding something on his robes

“What?”, you asked, coming near them, they clearly wanted to show me something, but you thought better of it, “I swear for Merlin’s fluffy robes that if I look into something remotely inappropriate I will tell Snape…”

You heard a croak, and your curiosity got the better of you and you looked inside

Theo was hiding a toad, and not just any toad

“Is that Trevor?”, you asked them both who started laughing

“Maybe”, he giggled

“You stole him?”, you asked them, scandalized, and then you looked into both their eyes, “no…”

“What?”, asked Theo

“Please don’t hurt him”, you begged them, honestly scared for the poor familiar

“I will not!”, Theo said, he seemed offended that you believed he was going to hurt him

“Why did you steal it?”, you asked them

“Longbottom didn’t have the guts, he was going to let Snape poison him!”, he said, taking Trevor out of his robes and caressing his tiny head, he was cute… for a toad… 

“So what’s your plan?”, you asked the pair, and they shared looks

“We are going to keep him…”, said Theo

“Yeah, and share custody”, muttered Matt

“What are you three doing with Longbottom’s toad?”, you three freezed at the unmistakable voice of Severus Snape, you three turned slowly, and shaking

“Stealing is not tolerated at Hogwarts”, he said with his dark, dragging voice, “Miss Basilik you interrupt and question my teaching methods and then you steal a classmate’s familiar, this is unacceptable”

“Sir! but…!”

“And furthermore you send a request my way to drop the divination class… not so fast… Gaunt”, he said, grabbing into Matt’s robes who had tried to escape. You looked up at him with wide eyes, “well, lucky for you I found a way to solve your little problem, and… give you and Mister Nott and mister Gaunt a lesson…”

“Which is?”, asked Theo fearfully

“Ancient Runes as Arithmancy are full… but not Muggles studies…”

“No…”, you all whimpered at the same time 

“Congratulations, you three are the very first Slytherins in taking the class”, he said with a smirk that was going to haunt your worst nightmares for years to come.

You didn’t even dared to tell Draco, Matthew, Theo and you looked like you just had seen a ghost, you barely ate… you were so… frighten

It did not help what Professor Lupin had in store for Defense against the Dark class after lunch…

“Boggarts!”, presented Lupin, as he stood in the middle of an empty classroom, with a huge cabinet that was moving like it had something inside it, and it did, “can anybody tell me.. what a Boggart looks like?”. he asked

“No one knows!”, said Granger, “boggarts are shapeshifters, they take on the shape of what that person fears the most, that is why they are so…”

“So terrifying, yes…”, he looked back at the cabinet, “Luckily, there is a very simple spell to repel them, everyone says it with me, wands away… Riddikulus!”, he pronounced in a way that was a bit contrary to what your minds told you to pronounced it

“Ri…di…kulus”, you practiced

“This class is ridiculous”, mocked Draco

Once you had practiced the spell, Lupin put you all in a line

The boggart turned into cobras, spiders… many things… and then… you were standing in front of a turning mesh… a cloud-like creature who was reading your mind to find whatever frightened you the most…

You thought about many things that frightened you, total darkness, being completely alone, death? many, many things, but then… something came out on top

The boggart started taking shape, and the result was a huge mass that almost touched the ceiling with his ugly head…. or rather… lack thereof

Trolls were huge, and this one wasn’t the exception, except… it didn't have a head!

A headless troll, with a bloody stomp where his head should be, was standing in front of you

You couldn’t help but whine in fear, wanting to take a step back

“Well, I have to admit, this is an unusual one”. laughed Lupin

“I can’t believe it Basilik!”, said Draco behind you, and you couldn’t stop looking at it, “still?”, you heard laughs behind you, and that only made you whimper more 

“Wand at the ready Basilik”, said Lupin, who seemed ready to jump, it wasn’t until that thing tried to hit you with his wooden club that you snapped out of your stupor

“Riddikulus!”, you said, in a second the headless troll became a big voodoo-looking doll, that fell to the ground as it was filled with sand

You kept hearing laughs behind you, and Professor Lupin applauded

“Very good Basilik! very good! Potter, you are next!”

Everyone was expectant of what Potter’s boggart was going to be, and you feared the most

A Dementor showed itself in front of you… well… at least it wasn’t the Dark Lord

Lupin stood in front of him, casted the spell, and… he dismissed the class despite the complains of the res of the class

Potter had the tendency of ruining things 

But if the first class was any indication, finally you had a competent Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, and you were excited, despite hearing Draco talking very rudely about Lupin’s appearance.

He did look like he had been attacked by a pack of Wampuses

. . .

The rest of the week, and for the weekend you three were acting as you were guilty of committing an awful crime and everybody was suspecting you. Draco was too “angry” at you for dropping divination that he didn't even ask you what you were going to take instead. Theo and Matthew were as skittish as you, avoiding the subject altogether 

You didn’t even know how everyone else was going to react when you told them, nobody of your house had taken that class 

It wasn’t until the very next week on Monday that you had your first Muggle Studies class

“I can’t believe this is Snape’s idea of a punishment, Longbottom haven’t even noticed that Trevor was missing”, muttered Theo

You had to admit you were somewhat excited… you didn’t even know what to expect, it was a complete mystery of what was going to happen inside that classroom

“An entire year with Muggle studies”, muttered Matthew, “I bet that if we bother that professor enough, she will let us switch”

“I don’t think we should play along with that, it was a miracle they let us change and… Arithmancy and Ancient runes are full”, you muttered, “and we HAVE to take two electives”, you whispered 

That Hufflepuff girl thought you were trying to prank her when you asked her where the muggle studies classroom was.

It was in a part of the castle that you weirdly had walked through a bunch of times, but never took the time to actually tell. 

You walked into the classroom, looking everywhere with surprise in your eyes, the room was filled with… unusual things… muggle things, in the corner, there was this… round transparent object that was glowing! What was that about? they couldn’t use magic!

You then noticed that a complete silence had installed in the room and when you looked around you realized that you were being stared at by the entire class. Some of them even had their mouths wide open at the sight of the three of you

Let’s just say that you would have more luck experiencing a 31st of February than spotting a Slytherin in a Muggle studies class, let alone three, let alone Matthew Gaunt that by this point… had a certain reputation inside the school. 

In front of the class, there was a sweet looking woman, wearing what you guessed was  muggle clothing, she was wearing some school pants, bluish ones, they look so comfortable

“Is this another joke?”, she asked shakily as she saw you three coming in, “Snape is my friend you know, and I’m allowed to take points from Slytherin as well as any other teacher”, she said, she reminded you of Neville 

“Please Professor, this isn’t a mockery”, you tried to explain quickly, your new classmates looked at surprised as the teacher to see three Slytherins in there, “we really want to take this class”, you said, it wasn’t specially true but… whatever 

“You three are warned! any funny business and I will talk with Snape and have you suspended!”, she threatened, and you nodded quickly, so you went and took a seat quickly in the back of the class, and you stayed quiet the entire lesson.

“I may or may not have… pranked her several times last year”, whispered Matthew to your ear 

Even so, both Matthew and Theo were in their best behavior for the first time.

And you had to admit… it was more interesting than you thought.

[hugheses]

3-23-17: 15 year old Jack Hughes is interviewed by Sherry Bassin and Jesse Pollock, starting at 48 minutes

Transcript below cut (includes an earlier snippet with Mike Traikos)

JP: Mike, there's another young player in Toronto that you've had the opportunity to study, and he goes by the name of Jack Hughes. I was wondering if you could give some input on him as a player and what to expect from him in the future. 

SB: Michael wrote an article on him. 

MT: Yeah, it's funny. We're talking about young guys, and here's the next wave of the future. Jack Hughes is still two..? years away from getting drafted in the NHL. I think he's 20, I want to say, I think he's 2019 or 2020 draft eligible. So we're talking about real young. But it's funny, when I was coming up with who might be the next Team North America four years later, I had Jack Hughes on the list, and that's how special of a talent this kid is. He's small. He's basically a Johnny Gaudreau or Mitch Marner. But, man, oh, man, he has skill. Skates very much like Connor does, really nifty kind of like Mitch and Johnny in terms of doesn't get hit a whole lot and just puts up just gobs and gobs of points so, he's a name that I think a lot of people are going to be familiar with and you know what, I think what we're seeing now with Connor I remember talking with Jack about this, was his style of play is really kind of catching on at the younger levels like, you watch Connor and nothing is in half speed it seems like he's got the puck and he's just trying to go go go and it's very rare that you see a player who's able to stick handle and carry the puck with the kind of speed and the amount of pace that Connor plays with. And yet all the young guys are now playing that way. So it's having a real trickle-down effect. And I think if you think the league is fast now, just wait until these young guys come into the league, like we mentioned Jack Hughes. And there's so many others that are kind of watching Connor McDavid play, and they're saying, okay, basically that's the kind of style I want to play. I want to have the puck, and I want to play with pace, and I want to just keep pushing it, pushing it, pushing it. And I kind of shudder to think what the league is going to look like in five years when all these speed-throughs are in the game, and they're just whipping around the ice a million miles an hour. 

SB: Oh, like if you can't skate in a few years from now, you're going to get windburn. You're going to need Nuxema to put on your neck because they go by you. But the real thing about Jack Hughes is, just like we said about Matthews being a special person, like a top character guy, just like we said about Sheifele and McDavid, like, exudes character. It comes out his fingernails. This guy's a high-character kid. I know the environment. I knew his mother before his father met her and stuff and know what they're all about. But I've often said all the time, you know what I mean? When you put character and ability together, you get a superstar like Matthews and McDavid and these guys. 

JP: Sid. 

SB: And that's in the- Sid. 

MT: And just for a little background for anyone who doesn't know, Jack Hughes, obviously his father, was a longtime player development coach at the Leafs. And say what you will about how he developed players, but this guy definitely knows the approach to take with his sons and his eldest son, Quinn, is in the National Development Program. I believe he's committed to Michigan University. 

SB: Yeah, and he's a heck of a player, like a phenomenal player. 

MT: Should be a top 10 pick, no question, in 2018. So, yeah, get used to seeing there, hearing about the Hughes kids. 

SB: And the younger brother. The younger brother, Luke, is, oh, yeah. These guys, he can go around you, the younger brother, Luke, but he'll go over top you, too. And first of all, their mother was a phenomenal athlete, okay, and high-character people. And so the brother that's with the national development program, he's the best defenseman on that team by far and I think, I think he's he's a candidate to be the best player on that team so you know these guys have come up in an environment like you said I tried to hire his dad as a coach one time and uh, because he is a very good teacher and stuff like that so as you pointed out that uh it's going to be coming in the future. This isn't the end of the great players. 

MT: There's an interesting thing about the brother too, Sherry, I'm sorry to cut you off, but Quinn is not a tall fellow by any stretch of the imagination. He might be the Johnny Gaudreau of defensemen where we see Quinn kind of break through in the NHL as a small, skilled defenseman. And I don't think we've really seen that yet. We've seen maybe a couple players here and there, like maybe Ryan Ellis, guys of that nature, but not to the skill level that Quinn Hughes has. So it will be interesting to see where he gets chosen in the NHL and what his path looks like because he could actually end up becoming maybe the first really high-end skilled, really small defenseman. And if he's able to have success in the NHL, I think that opens a lot of doors for a lot of smaller skilled players that maybe are afraid to play defense because it's always thought of as you have to have a bit of size to play the position. 

SB: Well, when I see Ellis playing, who I have a lot of respect for, I remember when he played for the Windsor Spitfires, Quinn Hughes is highly, highly skilled, very unselfish, great vision, just like we're talking about Jack. Okay. So, I mean, it's in the family. It's in the DNA and good upbringing. So we shouldn't be worried about these 10 young guns you're talking about because pretty soon you'll be writing about the next 10 young guns. 

————

JP: …Hearing him talk about the Hughes kids just excited me. I don't know about you but it just really made me think, how do you develop talent like this? How do you have three kids who could go on to become potential top 10 NHL draft picks? It's incredible. And our next guest, Sherry, Jack Hughes, is going to be able to tell us a bit about that. 

SB: Great young kid too. Great young kid. 

JP: Alright, we are now pleased to welcome Jack Hughes to the show. Jack, thanks for coming in. 

SB: Jack. 

JH: Hey, Sherry. 

SB: How are you doing, Jack? First of all, I wanted to tell you that we're really excited. Thank you for coming on here. I love interviewing highly talented young people that have high character, and I've known you since you were knee high to a grasshopper. 

JH: Haha.

SB: So I'm excited because I really believe in my heart, I'm not trying to be patronizing. You're the best player available in this whole province or whatever available for the OHL draft. I don't want to demean whoever got player of the year. He must be a heck of a player because I know how good you are, and I know what kind of person you are. So I want to thank you for coming on. 

JH: Yeah, thanks for having me. 

SB: No, no kidding here. So now listen, I'm going to tell something and then I've got to hear from you. Because good players and scoring. Stevie Sullivan came to, played 18 years in the NHL. I've got to tell you this quick story. And he was a free agent, and he wasn't very big. He could skate like you can skate, and he played 18 years. And we had four scrimmages in training camp, and he got 19 points in our training camp at Sault Ste. Marie. So right away, I said to my assistant manager, get him up there and we give him a full scholarship for education and stuff like that. And he was sitting between his parents and I said to him, how many points do you have in these scrimmages? He says, I don't know. I said, you're a liar. Called him a liar right to his face. And he looked at me and the parents had never met me He said I've never known a guy that got a lot of points That didn't know how many points I said how many points you got. He said around 18. I said you're damn right you got 19. Now how many points you got this year?

JH: I think I had around 170.

SB: 170. In how many games?

JH: 75, 80…

SB: 75, 80. How's your math, Minion? How is your math here? 

JP: My math isn't good, but I know that that's pretty impressive. 

SB: That's more than impressive. Now tell me something. First of all, I know your family really well. I know the upbringing. I know what it's all about. And, you know, I think your brother, Quinn, who I know very well too, and I think he's the best, for sure, the best defenseman on the U.S. team, if not the best player. I know your brother, Luke, who I think is going to be one of the best. He might even be better than you two guys when it comes to it. Now tell me about all this. When you're as talented as you are, the high character that you have, the environment that you were brought up in, tell me about this when everybody's saying you're going to be the first pick and you're the best player. How do you deal with it day to day and people talking to you? 

JH: I mean, really, I'm just trying to enjoy it. I mean, it only happens once, right? I only go through the OHL draft once. I'm just trying to enjoy it with my friends, my family. Just taking it lightly, I’m never- I’m not the cock- I'm not being cocky or anything, like shooting my mouth off. Really just like, just trying to have fun with it I guess. And not taking any pressure.

SB: Well good for you. First of all you're never going to be cocky with it. You're humble, and you've stayed at my house and everything, and I know what you are. And I think one of the biggest reasons you're a star and going to be a superstar is because of your character and because of your upbringing. So I'm not surprised, but you've got to be thinking about it, and good that you're having fun because that's what life's about. I used to tell my players all the time, winning is fun. Let's go have some fun. 

JP: Jack, your dad, Jim, was the director of player development for the Toronto Maple Leafs. And I just want to hear from you what role that helped in developing you and your brothers as hockey players and the type of training and the programs that he puts you in as kids because it's quite incredible to see. We mentioned earlier on the show that three brothers could all potentially be top 10 NHL picks one day. It's incredible to think about, and it's no coincidence. 

JH: Yeah, for sure. I mean, like, the mental things he would tell us tell us like, the things he would be telling the 19, 20 year old Maple Leafs prospects he'd be telling the same things to us when we were 10, 11, 12, 13, like just he made us think like a pro I guess and just the way we train we did so methodically like everything we did, hard work. He and my mother taught me so much. Everything I know is from them. The things they did with us, shooting in the basement, taking us to outdoor hockey. They've done so much for us, both mentally and physically. They've made us better people and better players. 

SB: Well, first of all, your mother was a heck of an athlete. Let's not forget that. And I knew your grandparents very well, and your grandmother is still alive, and your grandfather died prematurely from cancer, which just makes me, it hurts just when I talk about it. But I can tell you this, that that kind of an an environment- I tried to hire your dad as a coach one time

JH: Haha

SB: He told me to suck eggs there and so forth and so forth but anyway he did, so I know the family and stuff and tell us about this, when you're so committed like you are, because I always believe motivation is how bad you believe in something times how bad you want to attain it. I know how bad you believe in it. I know how you live it. I know how bad you want to attain it. So what is your typical week during hockey season? How often are you on the ice? 

JH: Yeah, for sure. I mean, I think we practice with practice with the Marlies, we practice three times a week, um some weeks we played once a week some weeks we played four times a week and then like as much as I can I try to get in the gym try to get stronger maybe once or twice a week and maybe do a little bit of extra skills with like groups called like, prep um pro edge power [he means Power Edge Pro] like I think that's McDavid's group. I mean we practice four times a week then spend two games so we're probably on the ice six out of seven days a week and then O mean just the fun aspects of it like when it comes to winter time, I mean me and my friends are always going to the outdoor rink and just playing four hours of shinny whenever we can. I mean, we just, I think we just live it. I mean, I love it. It's not work to me. It's all fun, right? So, I mean, I can never get enough of it. 

SB: Yeah, I mean, the thing about it is you love it by conduct, going to outdoor rinks. I mean, I grew up on outdoor rinks, and I'm a little bit – I'm a couple years older than you. But the thing is this, is that that's just an example, and you couldn't get enough of it. Like you say, you'd be there four hours, and if the ice was still there, you'd have stayed longer. 

JH: Mhm.

SB; That's your feeling for it, and that's why you're this good, and I'm excited to be able to tell people about it.

JP:  Jack you mentioned earlier that your parents really helped you develop into a good hockey player but also a good person and that's something that Sherry emphasizes just as much as anything really the importance of that and uh I think that's really great that you mentioned that. I want to ask you something in regards to the OHL. I know that you applied for exceptional status and ultimately it was denied. So I was wondering if you can talk about that experience and how maybe that will help you going forward or if it sparked anything in you.

JH: Yeah, for sure. I mean, that was such a great experience going through that process like all the interviews meeting people I did. I mean, it just made me mature so much faster I think, and I mean it was just great for me to grow up that fast I think, I know like, it wasn't really publicized or anything like that, but behind the scenes it was really good for me. Um, I think it was a blessing that I didn't get it because I mean it helped me like, it allowed myself to stay at home another year and have one more year of minor midget where I could really excel. So I think, I think that process was really good for me, like meeting the people I did, and just hearing things about the league. And I learned a lot of new things about myself as well, I think. 

SB: Well, Jack, there's no question. I mean, you've seen it. I've known it for years. I mean, what people, when they watch you, never mind your just ability, never mind his skill, Minion. He's a phenomenal team player, phenomenal team player, got great vision. If if you're open you're going to get the puck and and it's sometimes it's frustrating because when you're that- got that much ability that he does, he never shows any negativity on the ice you know, which I really respect in this guy and sometimes when you're that skilled and you give the puck and you're not getting it back, you know what I mean? He never showed any negative emotion. And so this guy's destined for big things, like big, big things. And listen, I can't thank you enough. I mean, you just, you know, just by listening to you, we know the character. We know the environment you're a product of. You know that I love your parents and love your family. But besides that, it's because of the people you are, never mind the fact that you happen to be a good hockey player. So all I know is that big things are destined for you, and I really want to thank you a lot for coming on. 

JH: Yeah, thank you, Sherry. 

SB: Good to talk to you. Keep punching. 

JP: Thanks, Jack. Good luck. 

JH: Thank you, yeah. 

JP: What a mature, young individual, Sherry. 

SB: It's hard to believe that he's only 15 going on 16, isn't it? I have said over and over with you and all the time we've got to visit since you were a little guy, okay, all the time, that the average 16 year old to 19 year old that plays in the OHL or plays in the- is a way more mature than the average 16 year old that you run to in the street because of all the decisions all the things that he had to do I mean think about what he talked about his commitment: four hours on an outdoor rink playing with his buddies. And it wasn't work. It was fun. Going to the gym regularly. Think about being the right kind of person in the environment that he's a product of. His mom and dad, I mean, who I know very, very well. You know, with the direction. And it's frustrating when you're that talented, when you're playing with players that they know they're trying their best, but when you're above their ability, so to speak, and that's not meant with disrespect to the players because they're not all born equal as hockey players, don't all have the same commitment, and you're playing with them and you don't get the puck back or you do certain things and not let it bother you because inside it's got to bother you because you think if I just got this i'm watching a game one time where he goes in tick-tack-toe how's your mama on the defenseman goes right by the guy makes a phenomenal shot scores a goal called back as a guy three zones away got a penalty and so all those 170 some points he talked about weren't one of the points and so, but he never showed that frustration, never showed frustration. Because he didn't get player of the year, whatever it is. And I'm sure this kid is a heck of a player. I'm not trying to demean anyone. But inside, when you got that competitive spirit, and especially- the guy that got it, he's a super superstar then. Because this guy's a superstar. And it was even hard for me to accept because I knew him so well but I don't want to demean the other guy I didn't see him enough and-

JP: And it's a humbling experience, one day he's going to look back at it and maybe he'll say this was the best thing that happened to me as a teenager.

SB: Yeah what you just said when you asked that question about exceptional player. 

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Take What You Need - Part 1: Let the Devil Out

Matt Murdock x Female Reader

Part 2 | Part 3

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT/18+ ONLY. Female reader (anatomy and implication of she/her pronouns) No use of Y/N. Established relationship. Red Suit DD. Oral sex (M receiving), unprotected P in V (be safe IRL), P in V with no prep, DomMatt, choking, lil bit of breeding kink, aftercare.

Summary: The first time Matt takes you up on your offer to take what he needs. After a night of patrolling doesn't calm the devil inside, you offer for him to take it out on you.

WC: 1801

Matthew Murdock is a giver by nature – whether it’s the deep-seated catholic guilt, the childhood trauma of never having his emotional needs met, or just his naturally innate personality. For whatever reason, he is incapable of taking for himself, rarely ever utters or even thinks the words I need.

You discovered quickly into your relationship with him that also very much applied to his habits in the bedroom. He would have himself slotted between your thighs for hours, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you like it was just another day in court, but when it came time for you to return the favor, he’d shutter away from the notion. Behave as if it were a nuisance. Only give himself the pleasure for your satisfaction more than his.

Matthew, take what you need became a prayer on your lips that he very rarely answered.

That was until tonight.

The streets of Hell’s Kitchen were volatile lately. Gangs, muggers, hitmen – just to name a few of the characters he’d run into recently. He stumbled home bloody and bruised more times than he’d care to count over the past few weeks.

The crisp air nips at the little skin he has exposed, making his bones ache, seeping into him like a thousand needles. Every molecule of the blood-stained suit he wears rubs against his skin in a fiery itch. Even the faintest of sounds from the street below sends his ears into a frenzy. Not to mention the smells – copper from the blood, garbage and gasoline from the streets of New York, and sweat from his own body.

His senses are in overdrive. He’s irritable, itching for a release to calm his twitchy nervous system back into place. Even a night spent beating up the worst of Hell’s Kitchen is not enough.

A soft but familiar heartbeat cuts through the anguish and draws his attention to you, enjoying the dawning morning from a spot just outside his roof access door. He makes the final leap across rooftops and strides forward, head cocked to hone his senses to only you.

You stand to meet him, discarding the plaid throw blanket from your shoulders.

“I couldn’t sleep. Came up to get fresh air and wait for…” You begin to explain, but are cut off by him pulling your body against his and his mouth smashing into yours.

His kisses are immediately intense. Fervent. More teeth than tongue.

Between the violent attack of kisses and the stark contrast of his warm body pressed against yours in the cool dawn air, you’re left breathless, even a bit dizzy. But before you can orient yourself, he’s spinning you around and pushing you through the door that leads into his home, grasping at any part of your body he can get his hands on.

Because as this city tears him down to nothing but fragile atoms, burning every part of him as deeply as the fires of hell to which he feels his sins condemn him, there you are to save his soul.

You pull away from his kisses only for a moment, to let out a familiar request.

“Take what you need, Matthew”

And for the first time, he accepts your gracious offer.

“On your knees. Now.” he commands through his shaky exhales with a tilt of his chin.

The realization he was finally resigning to selfishness sends a fire of anticipation through your veins. Not wanting to give him any opportunity to rethink it, you scramble to drop down to your knees with a creak of the wood floor beneath you.

He licks his lips the way he always does when he’s on edge. Fiddling with the pants of his crimson devil suit for a moment until his cock springs free, already unbearably hard.

As he runs his gloved finger over your lips, he swallows thickly.

“Open.”

He pushes himself inside your mouth as soon as you part your lips.

A shudder runs through him when he reaches the back of your throat. Then he does as you requested – he takes. Thrusting in and out with no regard to how you’re gagging and choking on his length. His thick thighs offer a stable surface for you to grasp and through your lashes you look up and meet the red eyes of his mask. The eyes of the devil.

And what a devilish sin it is, Matt thinks to himself, to give in so fully to his desires. To fight so hard against his selfless instincts.

Tears spring to your eyes with every rut of his pelvis while your strangled moans encourage him to keep fucking your willing mouth. If he continues at this pace, he knows he will finish before fully having you in the way he wants.

No. The way he needs.

Grasping at your throat, he pulls out from you, heavy boots stomping backward to orient himself. Warm spit dribbles down your chin. You gasp at the now empty space around you and it’s suffocating.

“Still with me?” His breathing is ragged and uneven as he finally speaks again.

“Yes”

He wastes no time, bending down to strip you of your clothes quickly. They flutter over the side of the railing into the living room below. A soft contrast to the plonking sound of his gloves haphazardly being discarded as well and meeting the same fate as your pajamas below.

“Turn around.” he orders with a nod of his chin

Now bare beneath him, you comply and turn to face away. Your hands grasp at the spindles that cage the landing in, also now caging you into his unrestrained desires.

Desperation seeps from your every pore like watercolors bleeding across a canvas, your thundering heartbeat and the slick between your legs alerting Matt’s hypersenses to your readiness. He nudges at your entrance with the head of his cock, not wishing to waste another moment apart from you.

Any remaining shred of control is lost. The sound of his sex meeting yours and the warmth of your arousal is enough to make him lose it. He plunges all the way in with a vicious thrust of his hips, allowing no time for your cunt to adjust. And then he’s desperately rutting into you, breathy little moans escaping with every push of his hips.

“Matthew!” you cry out as satisfying pain burns through you.

The sensation of finally indulging in his own needs and desires first is so foreign to him, to be given so much with no expectation in return. He knows this must truly be what it means to let the devil out - to fully blur the line between man and demon.

The rough woven fabric of his suit burns against your exposed back as his thrusts become harsher. Tonight the praise that usually slips from his lips as your bodies meet is replaced by only harsh moans and grunts.

You’re fully pliable to his touch now, eyes brimming with tears moments away from spilling over your lids and staining your cheeks. He can taste them in the air, as he adjusts his pace and begins pounding into the spot guaranteed to unravel you quickly. Your growing whimpers alerting him that he’s got you exactly where he wants you, teetering towards your undoing. At this point, you’re well aware that he’s toying with you, edging you to your limit for his own gratification, full control over when and how you cum. If that’s the only thing he feels like he can control at this point, you’ll let him have it.

He leans forward to wrap his arm around your front and capture your throat in his grasp while his other hand runs desperately up and down your body, grabbing and groping at every inch of exposed skin.

If this was the intensity at which he patrolled and protected, you understood why the underbelly of this city only dared whisper about the man in the mask. But you weren’t afraid of him letting the devil out. If anything it was relieving to submit fully to his mercy – to fully know the parts of him he so desperately wanted to hide from you.

Reaching above where the two of you are joined, his tepid fingers harshly rub at your clit, coaxing you towards your end almost as furiously as his mind has been racing this evening. He doesn’t miss the cues your body is giving – the arch of your back, the intensified way your cunt is squeezing around him, more and more of you dripping onto him. Knowing the fire within him wont fully extinguish until he feels you meet your release.

You can barely think straight from the sheer intensity of your pleasure as your orgasm floods your system, finally breaking him free of the unruly angst he felt tonight. The vibrations in your chest as you continue to whimper and recover from your high pull him into the abyss along with you. He’s panting harshly as he cums, his whole body shaking as frazzled grunts spill from his lips. Electricity ricocheting between the two of you as he spills deep inside, finally placating the burning itch.

A new pain appears (in addition to the ache in your knees and the releasing tension of your muscles) the horns of his devil mask poking into your shoulder blades as he rests his forehead on your exposed back. His grip releases from your throat to find the hand you have clutched to the spindles, lacing his fingers with yours.

The stabbing of the horns are quickly replaced by featherlight kisses. Calmness washes over him in a tidal wave with the act of giving pleasure to flesh, not pain. It feels like an eternity until he finally pulls himself from you, his breathing now steady and even.

“C’mon, let’s get cleaned up” he speaks, almost in a whisper, as he paws at your soft flesh, assisting you to your feet and gingerly guiding you down the stairs.

A warm shower and a massage of your shoulders later, you’re snuggled together under silk sheets, not daring to give in to the sleep you both desperately need. Afterall, the harsh cries of your morning alarm are any moment away.

Matt holds you near, running long circles with his hands up and down the exposed flesh of your arms and back. As he embraces you, he marvels at how easily you offered yourself to him tonight and how willingly you gave, just as he does in nearly every aspect of his life. The thought grounds him, more than being buried inside you already has.

The pink and blue glows of the night time billboard through the large, loft windows are now washed away with the warmth of morning sunlight and the last signs of the devil inside finally dissipate with the rising sun.

NEXT CHAPTER

[sirowsky-stories]

Collision

Part 3

Description: Using all the resources at his disposal, Pero is trying to find out who is after Niki and why.

Warnings: Pero Tovar x OFC, no reader insert, Pero's pov, conspiracy, cursing, angst, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, secret identity, AU fic. Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ONLY Word Count: 5700 Series Masterlist

Author's Note: So, it looks like this is becoming a series after all. I'll be making a Series Masterlist in the next few days. Lots more history on Pero in this part, and further insights into his criminal life.

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

   It feels weird being back here this time. He usually goes to the safehouse about once a month, to keep the dust away, but he never spends the night. He never cooks. Never uses the shower.    Safe though it might be, it has never felt like a home. Thus far, he’s never needed to use it as one either, having managed to keep his real identity from those that would undoubtedly do him harm if they ever found him.    But he’s happy to have it, now that it’ll benefit someone.

   He unpacks the food he bought into the fridge and pantry, and then goes for a shower. The master bedroom isn’t connected to the primary bathroom, so he can clean himself up without disturbing Gillian, who fell asleep on his bed shortly after he left the room.    When he steps in under the spray, the comfort of the warm water seems to unlock something within him. He starts crying, and he can’t stop.

   He doesn’t know if it’s for Niki or himself or his coworkers that he dragged into this shit, or perhaps for the baby that might no longer be there, having been given no choice or chance at all. But whatever the reason, he doesn’t fight it. He’s too tired to fight anything right now, and anyway, it would be pointless.    This feeling isn’t gonna go away no matter how hard he tries, so he might as well let it out and be rid of it where no one can see him, and where the water washes away the evidence.

   But when he steps out more than half an hour later, he somehow feels heavier.

   He towels himself dry and takes the time to shave while his skin cools, mostly just to feel like less of a crook, although he’s not sure why shaving might help with that.    While he works the razor, his mind is drawn to images from his childhood, like his first ever shave, but then jumps back to his younger years, where he was the only Hispanic kid at the schools he went to.

   He remembers getting up in the middle of the night and sneaking into the living room to watch American movies. He’d sit next to the VCR and rewind every phrase spoken, so that he could practice the pronunciation until he’d completely removed his Spanish accent. Not that it had made any difference, there was no way to learn how to not be Hispanic.    And in high school, he’d eventually gotten angry enough at his bullies that he’d decided to get back at them.

   But he’d been a skinny kid who hadn’t known how to fight, so instead, he’d figured out how to hurt them mentally. That was where his criminal career had kicked off, teaching himself how to scam people out of things that were precious to them for one reason or another.    Like Matthew Pritchard and the baseball glove that he’d never gone anywhere without. Pero had managed to trick him into giving it to charity, in front of the entire school, without Matt ever knowing that he was behind it.

   That had been his first win, and it had felt so good after years of being ridiculed and bullied daily, that he’d turned it into a successful livelihood. Sadly, it would take him over a decade to realize that stealing from other people and making their lives miserable, even just for a day, was never going to make his own demons go away.    He finishes the shave and lets the memories fade. He’s not proud of the man he is. Maybe that’s why the baby scares him so much.

   After putting on clean clothes and running a brush through the unruly curls on his head, five weeks overdue for a cut, he heads back to the kitchen to make dinner. He’s gonna need a solid meal to have enough energy to stay awake for the rest of the evening.    Gillian comes walking into the spacious combined kitchen and dining area, just as he’s finishing the ragu, or Bolognese to most Americans.

   “Smells good. I’m starving,” she sleepily mumbles, having clearly dragged herself out of bed without being fully awake, probably drawn by the spicy scent.

   He serves her a plate and tells her to dig in, before doing the same for himself.    The meal is a well-needed source of energy. He can almost feel his brain begin to return to normal function, and his guest seems to be experiencing something similar, looking increasingly alert with each bite.

   “So, did you learn anything yet?” she asks once her plate is empty.

   “No. I needed to… decompress first.”

   “You should sleep too.”

   “I know. But I can’t do that until I have some answers,” he says, and before she can protest, he deflects. “How are you holding up with all this? Is there someone missing you back home that you need to call?”

   “Just my coworkers, and they probably know that I stole a patient and vanished, by now. No need to incriminate myself even more by trying to explain,” she shrugs.

   “Well, if you do feel like calling someone, I just want you to know that it’s safe to do that here. This house has a scrambling device which won’t let anyone eavesdrop or triangulate your position no matter how long you talk for, or if you use the internet.    Just keep the phone inside the building while you use it and you’re fine.”

   “Wow. That… wasn’t even on my list of things to worry about. But thanks.”

   “Sure. Do you want any more food?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

   “No, but it was delicious. I’m gonna go check on Nikita and then I think I need a shower too.”

   “There are clean t-shirts and sweatpants in the bottom drawers of the bathroom closet, if you wanna change. I’m afraid I don’t have any lady underwear, though.”

   “What? You mean you don’t bring women here on the weekends for strip-poker? Wasted opportunity, dude,” she jokes, and he smirks at her as she leaves the room.

   He’s fairly certain that she swings the other way. Not because of her obvious disinterest in him, that’s what he expects and even hopes for from most women, it’s just a gut feeling he has about her. Something in her more subtle expressions.    Once the meal is cleaned away and the leftovers are Tupperware secured and refrigerated, he heads upstairs to the lounge area, where there’s a library and a desk with a computer.

   The whirring of the fans as he turns it on seems loud in the quiet and slightly echo-y space, but once it’s warmed up, he stops hearing it. He opens the online search engine and looks up the local news for their hometown, to see what he can find out about Boon and the nurses.    No names have been released yet, but apparently there are two fatalities at the hospital. They probably haven’t found or at least not connected Carrera to it yet, so it could be anyone of the four people that they left behind in that garage who are the deceased victims.

   He hopes that one of them is the assailant, because at least then, some justice has been served.

   A soft buzzing in his pocket tells him that the call he’s been waiting for is finally coming in, and he digs it out, not even bothering to check the caller ID before answering.

   “Tell me you’ve got something,” he says instead of hello, and hears a little huff on the other end.

   “Considering what happened at the hospital, I can see why you’re a bit tense, but don’t bite my fucking head off, asshole.”

   “Please, tell me you found something. Dickhead,” he corrects himself, to which Will just hums.

   “Well, something is putting it kinda mildly, actually. Your girl isn’t your average Jane, by a mile.”

   “Meaning?”

   “Meaning the reason why she was off the grid for nine years, was because she was one of seven department heads on a major covert weapons development project, which is why it took me all fucking day to find it.    The whole thing was compartmentalized, so she probably didn’t know what her research was being used for specifically, but I’ll be surprised if she hasn’t guessed it. They don’t put you in a ghost town for almost a decade to develop better tires.”

   Weapons research? That’s unexpected, but then, she is an engineer and a good one. And it does explain why she would be important enough to send assassins after, if she knows something she’s not supposed to, for example.    Still, there’s a big question mark to that theory.

   “But why would they come after her six years after the project ended?” he asks, and Will clicks his tongue twice, something he always does as a way of signifying that something isn’t what it seems.

   “I don’t think it’s our people who are solely responsible. It might be a reaction meant to stop someone else from getting their hands on sensitive information. I haven’t been able to piece it all together, but there are definitely outside sources involved.    I’ll need another day to dig into that aspect, though. This is snake pit, Tovar.”

   “Yeah, that much I’ve figured out.”

   “You at the safehouse?”

   “Didn’t know where else to put her,” he admits, not at all worried that the man might decide to disclose his secret hideout to anyone.

   Firstly, because he’s got no one to tell, he’s even more alone than Pero. And secondly, because if he did that, he knows that his house and all his computers, his own sanctuary from the endlessly stressful outside world, would be leveled to the ground.

   “Alright, well I’ll keep digging and get back to you. Keep your head down.”

   “Since when are you worried about my head?” he asks with raised brows, genuinely surprised at the comment since it’s as close to actual friendliness that the man has ever gotten towards him.

   “Hair is a valuable commodity these days,” Will deadpans, “And the way yours is looking, I could probably get a good check for your mop.”

   He hangs up without answering that. His relationship with Garin is… well, horrible for the most part. But while they’re definitely more enemies than friends, the Veteran knows better than to cross him. He made that mistake once, and it cost him dearly. And that was before he went to war and got himself even more messed up. In fact, it was probably the reason why he’d enlisted.

   Another thing that Pero isn’t proud of. But also feels no guilt over, because the man had brought that misfortune upon himself, by himself.

   “Pero, I think she’s waking up!” Gillian calls from downstairs, and he practically leaps out of his chair and runs back down.

   He finds her by Niki’s bedside, studying the monitors and then her face. He isn’t helped by looking at the tech, so his eyes are instantly drawn to her face and arms, both of which are twitching, just barely.    His breaths seem to be trapped somewhere right under his chin, until the moment her eyes flicker and then begin to open. A soft exhale which turns into a smile without him even realizing it, frees his chest and he takes her hand, suddenly no longer worried that he might hurt her simply by touching her.

   “Hey… Can you hear me, Niki?”

   Her eyes are eerily still at first. The lid is only half open, but he can see that she’s just staring ahead, not looking around her or seeking his voice. It might be because she’s only just awake and hasn’t gotten her senses all back, though, so he tries again.

   “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

   He’s never called her any nicknames before, save for the occasional “baby” slipping past his lips during sex, and yet it feels completely natural now.    Somewhere, in all this time spent trying to keep her alive, he’s stopped thinking of her in terms of how she relates to him, and just thinks of her as the wonderful person she is and how he can’t imagine a world where she isn’t there anymore.    And from that perspective, his feelings for her aren’t complicated at all.

   It still takes another few seconds, but then her eyes start to move to the side where he’s standing, and her hand weakly squeezes his.    She can’t talk yet, but within her eyes he sees her questions, her fears, and he knows that she remembers the crash.

   “You’re safe, don’t worry. I’ve hidden you away, they can’t find you.”

   The heartrate monitor is muted, save for the alarm which automatically sounds if her BPM’s drop lower than thirty-five. But a glance at it tells him that she’s still scared, because it’s been holding steady at around fifty throughout everything that’s happened, but now it’s jumped up to seventy-eight.    She wants to know that her baby is safe too. That’s the only thing he can think of that might be so distressing to her right now, but that’s also an answer that he can’t give.

   “I don’t know… if… if the baby made it. I don’t know,” he says truthfully, for the first time tasting that fear for himself.

   He was so angry that he threw her out because of it, and now he finds himself dreading the possibility that it’s gone. He wonders if she can see that in his eyes. If she somehow knows how much has changed over the course of this day.    Her eyes are filled with tears when they fall shut once again, leaving a dark wet line down the outside of her cheeks. Her heart slows and she’s back under the heavy blanket of unconsciousness.

   “This is a good sign, Pero,” Gillian gently reminds him when he begins struggling to breathe again.

   It isn’t until he looks up at her that he notices the wetness on his own cheeks. He wipes it off on the bottom of his t-shirt, but his breathing only gets worse. Seconds later he’s gasping, feeling his knees weaken, and suddenly her arms are around him and he’s moving.    She leads him to the bed where he collapses, half screaming, half choking with the pain that rips through him, and then he’s out.

-=¤=-

   He wakes up with a jolt, sitting up so fast that his head spins for a few seconds while his heart races. But as soon as he locates the hospital bed at the other end of the room, he remembers, and begins to calm.    A quick glance at his watch tells him that it’s 6:30 pm, which means he’s only been out for about an hour. That’s good, because he still has a lot of work to do before he can really sleep.

   “Already up? I was hoping you’d be out for the night,” Gillian says as she looks up from her seat next to Niki.

   She’s brought a chair from the kitchen in there, and has found a book to read, probably from the library upstairs.

   “You keep going like this and you’re gonna kill yourself, either from fatigue itself or by making a mistake because you can’t think straight.”

   “I’m fine,” he grumbles and gets to his feet.

   “You crashed, Pero. Do you think that that happened because you’re doing okay? Your friend almost died and is being hunted by assassins, and you haven’t processed any of it.”

   He completely ignores her comments. Not because she’s wrong, he just doesn’t have the mental energy to argue.

   “What would you need to be able to tell if the baby is still alive?” he asks instead, and she sighs, giving up trying to reason with him.

   “This early in the pregnancy, only her HCG levels would tell us anything useful. But without a lab to send her blood or urine to for analysis, there’s no way for us to measure her levels.”

   So, no way to know except to just wait.    He wants to know to set his own mind at ease, sure, but mostly he just wants to have an answer for Niki the next time she wakes up.

   “Let me know if you need anything or if something changes. I’ll be upstairs,” he tells her on his way out of the room.

   If this is about covert weapons development, he’s got someone he can call to learn more. His time as a criminal might not have afforded him any friends, but it has generated a kind of network of information, which only he can use because he is the connecting dot in the middle of the web.    It’s comprised of rich and influential people all over the country, all of which he’s scammed out of small portions of their fortunes, and in many cases, that has given him a modicum of leverage over them. Usually because their riches were at least partially illegally obtained.

   He never would’ve guessed that the day might come when he’d use these people to protect someone other than himself, but then, things have changed rather drastically over the course of this hellish day.    Back at the computer, he looks up the name of the corrupt army lieutenant he’d come across, who had amassed a small fortune of his own by selling classified documents to the highest bidder.

   Reyes. A man sure to remember Pero, despite their brief dealings over ten years ago now.

   He looks up the contact information to check that it’s still accurate, not at all surprised to find that the man hasn’t even changed phone numbers.    Most people that he scammed seemed to assume that once the exchange was over, he’d cut them lose and would never want to interact with them again, probably because they imagined that that would put him at risk.

   He dials the number and waits, having already checked that his own number is being blocked, and the man answers after the fourth signal.

   “Reyes.”

   “Good evening, lieutenant. How’s business in the classified section?”

   There’s a pause, then…

   “Mr. Hood,” the man shakily recalls.

   A bit theatric of a name, perhaps, but Pero had never stolen from anyone who couldn’t afford it, and almost exclusively from those who had made their fortunes on other people’s misery or even pain.

   “I’m glad you remember. I need a favor.”

   “Look, I gave you what you wanted, we’re square-…”

   “Shut the fuck up, you corrupt piece of shit,” he cuts the guy off. “You’ve got no card to play here, because if I decide to turn you in, you’ll get tried for treason, and I believe they still kill people for that in your state.”

   There’s dead silence on the other end, so he continues.

   “Now, you’re gonna find out everything you can about a covert weapons development project which started sometime in 2008 and ended in 2017. A project that long can’t be a dime of dozen, so you shouldn’t have much problem figuring out which one it is, even without a name.”

   “…I know the name,” Reyes unexpectedly replies after a nervous pause. “I was part of the protection detail there for a couple of years. It was codenamed “Amazon”, as in amazon warriors, not the company.”

   “What do you know about it?” Pero presses, trying not to sound too eager.

   “I know that it wasn’t a weapon of mass destruction they were trying to make. It was something else, something small and surgical, and I know that it was successful.”

   “And what about after it was completed? What happened to the staff and the scientists?”

   “Only the project management team knew what they were actually making, so once it was completed, I assume everyone was released back into the world. But if someone blabbed later, they might’ve been dealt with. I don’t know.”

   “And what about you?” he questions, entirely ready to believe that this man had blabbed, or stolen something relating to the project.

   “Hey, I know I’m not the most trustworthy person in the world, but you’d have to be suicidal to nick shit from a project like that. Plus, the security was airtight. Every piece of paper printed was logged and archived and kept under lock and key, and they had hackers employed to make sure that the computer system wasn’t tampered with.    I may be an opportunistic individual, but I’m not Steve fucking Jobs…”

   Pero ends the call there. If Reyes has been involved in any theft, Garin will sus him out eventually. For now, he’s gotten some new information to work with, so he texts Will the name of the project, receiving a thumbs up in return. It’ll streamline his search to have a project headline to look for.    Next, he looks up another number, this time a casino whale who loves to know everyone’s business but despises anyone knowing hers.

   “Hello?” she answers, sounding intrigued by the prospect of an unknown caller.

   “Hello, Wendy.”

   “Oh. You. And here I thought I might get to have some fun.”

   “That’s what you live for, isn’t it? No matter how it affects anyone else.”

   “Get off your high horse, you prick! You extorted me!” she shrieks, which means she’s at home alone.

   In public, this woman is the picture of ease and elegance, and when her husband is home with her, she makes every effort to keep up that façade, because he’s not a man who tolerates needless drama in his house.

   “True,” Pero admits. “But then, you could afford it. The houses you scammed elderly people out of and then sold, were left destitute and homeless.”

   There’s a groan on the other end. She hates being put in her place.

   “What do you want?” she snarls, probably thinking that he’s after more money.

   “I wanna talk to one of your husband’s friends. Specifically, Mr. Huang.”

   “What? W-why?” she asks, suddenly sounding fearful, and with good reason.

   Huang is known in her circles for being someone that no one crosses or questions. He’s the top representative for the Yakuza in America, and he’s not above torturing or killing people with his own hands.    However, Pero also knows that he’s a skilled businessman, and always willing to make a deal if it might benefit him or the people he represents.

   “I want the number, Wendy. That’s all.”

   He hears her start to move, likely to her husband’s office to find his address book.

   “You’re crazy, Mr. Hood. No one in their right mind goes looking for that guy,” she says while she leafs through the pages.

   She finds the number and recites it for him, before adding that she hopes the Yakuza kills him, and then she hangs up.    He immediately dials the new number, while mentally going through the list of incriminating evidence that he’s got stored up, specifically for moments like these, which he might offer up in payment for the information he wants.

   “Who is this?” a male voice calmly answers after seven signals.

   “You probably know me as Mr. Hood.”

   There’s a moment of silence on the line, but he hears fingers being snapped and then a door closing, so Huang must’ve ordered someone to leave the room before he starts talking.

   “Yes, I have heard of you. All good things, I must say.”

   “How surprising,” Pero replies, because that’s never been the case before.

   “Oh, yes. You’ve caused quite a lot of trouble for people around me, which to me, is almost always good news.”

   “Well, I do what I can.”

   “Indeed. How can I help you, Mr. Hood?” Huang asks, and he sounds almost pleased, as if the prospect greatly appeals to him.

   “I have a problem with assassins.”

   “Ah, always a pickle. Someone you hired or the other way around?”

   “Someone hunting a friend of mine,” Tovar admits, hoping that this man will have come across enough hired hands to have an idea of who the hell the two unknown men are.

   “Do you have a description?”

   “It’s a team, or at least a pair. Two men, approximately forty years old, average build, no visible tattoos, could be North American or European. Skilled, obviously well trained and highly experienced,” he recalls, sticking only to information he believes is relevant to identifying them.

   No need to describe what happened, or where, just in case this extremely dangerous guy doesn’t know them, in which case too much information might have the opposite effect of what he’s trying to do, which is keep Niki safe.

   “That sounds an awful lot like the Qwerty brothers,” Huang suggests, and then reinforces his theory. “Let me guess, one looked like a Mark Wahlberg wannabe, and the other Tom Cruise?”

   “Yeah… now that you mention it,” Pero answers, stifling a chuckle at how the memories of the two men suddenly seems comical.

   “That’s Howie and Hogan. There are four of them in total, and they’re all in the contract killing scene. The other two are Hugh and Holger, but you probably won’t encounter them. They only operate outside the US.”

   “And their surname is Qwerty?”

   “No, that’s more like their stage-name, after the Qwerty keyboard, because none of the letters fit together, but they make for an effective ensemble.    Their real surname is Bloom and if you’re looking to ambush the two who came after you, I know all of their most frequented bars and hangouts.”

   “And you’re willing to part with this information free of charge?” Tovar asks skeptically, but Huang takes no offense.

   “Like I said, Mr. Hood, your work has greatly benefitted me in the past, I’m just repaying you. And perhaps asking that you’ll refrain from looking too closely in my specific direction in the future.”

   Ah, there it is. Still, a small price to pay, especially since Pero has long since retired Mr. Hood. This is a temporary re-emergence, brought on by necessity, nothing more.

   “I can live with that.”

   “Excellent. Then I suggest you write this down…”

   Huang gives him a total of six addresses where the brothers have regularly been seen over the past year, and then the two end their conversation with polite goodbyes.    Of all the unexpected twists to come out of this day, having a mutually respectful and informative conversation with the Yakuza, certainly takes the cake. He does worry that this might in some way come back to bite him in the ass later on, but if so, that’s a headache for another day.

   None of the addresses are close enough that he can drive there tonight, though. So, for now, he settles into the notion that he’s done all he can today. He turns off the computer and heads back downstairs, finding Gillian in the chair by Niki’s side.

   “Any change?” he asks, and she looks up from the book.

   “No. How about you?”

   “I was able to find out some things, but nothing I can act on right now, so I’m gonna try and get some rest.”

   “Good,” she says, emphasizing the one word to tell him that he’s being an asshole to himself.

   He already knows that, but there’s no point in arguing about it or being mean to her for pointing it out. She cares. Even about someone as unworthy of her care as him, and he’s not gonna punish her for it.

   “If you need a break, let me know and I’ll watch her,” he says instead, gently stroking Niki’s undamaged arm before he walks over to the bed and lays down on his front, fully clothed on top of the covers.

   He falls asleep before he’s even fully relaxed into the soft and welcoming mattress.

-=¤=-

   The ringing of his phone wakes him, and the first thing he registers is that it’s still dark outside. He rolls onto his back and picks up the device from his pocket, but before he answers, he sits up and glances over at Gillian to make sure that everything is alright.    She’s looking at him with tired eyes, probably making sure that he manages to wake up enough to successfully take the call, so she’s clearly fine.

   “Hello?” he answers, his voice thick with sleep, while rubbing his eyes and scratching at his moustache.

   “Shit… you sound hungover. Been partying over there?” Will’s normal and generally gruff tone greets him.

   “Say your piece, man. I’m not in the mood for your brand of banter,” he shoots back, much too exhausted still to even try and be polite.

   “My piece is that I went and found the jackpot, jackass. So, you might wanna pay attention cause this one’s a doozy.”

   Pero sits up straighter as he hears that. He didn’t expect Garin to come back with anything substantial so fast, but it seems that knowing the project name really did speed things along.

   “I’m listening.”

   “Alright. Now, as you know, the project was very hush-hush and everything was compartmentalized and monitored, but that wasn’t the half of it. The security around this place was insane, I mean regular cavity searches, insane. So, no one could’ve smuggled anything out during the time the thing was ongoing.    And you’d think that once the number of people involved was drastically reduced with the entire staff being released back into the world, it should’ve only gotten easier to keep the records secure. But no.    I don’t know exactly who got the five-finger discount, yet, but I do know that four years ago, there was a memo sent to the head of the project, a guy named Porter Haines, explaining that sensitive information had been stolen, including all the names of the project’s department heads. Which includes your girl.    Now here’s where it gets messy. In order to ensure the safety of the newly developed weapon, instead of safeguarding the people that developed it, our fucking government decided that the best course of action would be to kill them, thereby permanently keeping their knowledge from being used by any enemy.    So, I hope you’re ready for war, my man, because that poor woman is being pursued by an outside force, and hunted by her own government.”

   God damned it. The thought has occurred to him that it could be their own people, but he never imagined that it might be twice that bad.

   “Do you know which country is the outside source?” he asks with a heavy chest, feeling as though their chances of survival just went from slim to none.

   “Not definitively, although the leads I’ve currently got are pointing at China. It could easily be a decoy, though.”

   “Hm. Interestingly, I had a conversation earlier tonight with Mr. Huang, and he was surprisingly helpful.”

   “Fucking hell… Has your girl somehow ended up in the middle of an arms race between the US, China and Japan? Talk about rotten luck…” Will remarks, sounding both shocked and impressed that one person could accomplish such a feat.

   “I’m not so sure that Japan is involved,” Pero counters. “Huang openly admitted that my work has directly helped his organization. He offered up the assassins that are after Niki, on a platter.”

   “Yeah, to make sure our people can’t dispose of her before they can get their claws into her knowledgeable brain.”

   “Except that he has no idea who I am, or that I’m in any way connected to her. If the Yakuza really had a hand riding on this game, then if Huang had already known which American assassins are after her, he would’ve just killed them himself to clear the way. He doesn’t take chances with errand boys, that’s why he is where he is.”

   “Fine, so no Japs. But that still leaves two powerful countries on her tail. What the hell are you gonna do?”

   He doesn’t have an answer for that. He just stares at Niki, fighting for her life completely unaware of just how big a shitstorm she’s in the middle of.

   “You might wanna consider cutting her lose,” Garin quietly suggests after a few beats.

   That thought has never even crossed his mind, and now that he hears it, Pero feels repelled even by the suggestion.

   “Yeah, except I’m not like you,” he spits back and then ends the call.

   It’s a low blow, but he doesn’t care. William made his own bed, and he did it by being selfish, but that doesn’t mean that that’s how everyone handles their problems.    He drops the phone onto the covers next to him and closes his eyes, rubbing at his temples and massaging his own neck, trying to absorb the reality of the trouble they’re in. It all seems too heavy and too much.    How can one person be worth this much trouble?

   “Bad news?” Gillian asks from her spot across the dimly lit room.

   He sighs, not sure how to even begin, but then decides not to.

   “You should take the truck and head back to town,” he says, and there’s something in his tone that makes her pause.

   For a moment, he can see that she wants to retort, to question the point of her coming here at all, if it was just to abandon them when things take a turn for the worse. But she bites her tongue. She can see in his eyes that something’s changed, and that it’s bad, but she doesn’t want to leave, so she looks away and stays quiet instead.    It’s not in her nature to leave people in need, she might not even know how to do that, much less allow herself to. She’s young, but impressive.

   She should get to live.

   “We’re safe here, right?” she finally wonders, meeting his gaze again.

   “For now,” he cautions, because while he thinks that they are, governments have nearly endless resources, especially when there’s secrets to be kept.

   He wants to believe that no one can find them here, but he knows that all it will take is time. Like water slowly polishing stone, no matter how resilient they try to be, someone will eventually wear their surface down, until the stone is dislodged, and the river comes flooding over them.    The best he can hope for, is to stay ahead of the tide.

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

Part 4

Thank you for reading, and remember: I have no taglist anymore. Follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications for updates on my writing :)

[famousfilmsfan]

This is a small story I made after the season 3 finale about what I thought would happen based on my own interpretations

It had been several hours since Anna and Amari got into an argument with Bryan taking Gregory out of the house saying they were dead to him, And Anna sat silently at the dining table. Amiri had been upstairs for a while.

When he returned, a large packet of papers was dropped onto the table.

“What the hell is this?” Amari said his calm face replaced by one of not just anger but anger and confusion

It was a divorce agreement, well, a copy of one.

“it’s mine and Matthews's Divorce papers..where did you?” Anna responded fearing the worst as she read on.

“I found it in the attic. But explain to me why these say that Matthew had gotten full custody of Bryan while you only got visitation.” He seemed to be getting more angry “while you told me you two have split custody?”

“Well...it’s an old version.” She defended, but it was quickly stopped when he put his hand up to shut her up. He pointed to two signatures on the paper and the state stamp.

“No, it’s signed and stamped. It was official. And I did some digging. You sued him for custody four times.” he took a breath before continuing.

“The case was thrown out twice, you lost once, and the fourth time you won because you had a therapist sign off saying that Bryan wasn't safe in that home environment. And guess who that was?” He asked already knowing what the answer was. He didn't want anymore lies.

Anna was shocked Amiri found this out in just a few hours “..well uh..” she hesitated not knowing how to answer without making things worse for her.

“It was me!” He blew up “You..you told me I was signing a nondisclosure, but you refused to let me read it.” This was years of silent protest finally coming out in full force.

“You used me. I only agreed to making him forget his dad because I thought he was going to be going back and Forth between homes,” He paused to breathe “but it wasn't that. You only did this because you didn't want Bryan to be with his father.”

“Amiri, please, I can explain-” She was cut off by her husband by him turning around and throwing his hands up.

“It all makes sense!” he yelled, “You never let me meet Matthew despite me wanting to meet him, you moved in with me so your neighbors wouldn't suspect anything.” It was her idea to do so. She said it was because Matthew had gotten the house. “And you refused to tell me why he kept calling my office during my first session with Bryan.. Did he even know Bryan was there?” he asked, needing an answer since Matthew was blowing the phone up with calls he was told to ignore.

“Well..no but-” She was interrupted yet again

This information made him slam his hands on the dining table making an electric candelabra fall over “So you kidnapped Bryan!? That’s why you made the appointment on the exact same day!”

She came to her defense very quickly “Not really, ‘kidnap’. I was allowed a visit on weekends.” but she knew that wouldn't work because..

“It was a Tuesday!” he screamed “What the fuck?! Ugh! This is what I get for dating a clients parent. I feel so...used.” he sat down and took his glasses off rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance, and trying to calm down.

She put her hand on his in a comforting way trying to calm him down. “Sweetheart, please-” she was interrupted yet again.

“Don’t, Sweetheart me” He pulled his hand away looking a bit disgusted.

“You know what I think? You were happy Matthew was dead. So he couldn't protest against this insane situation!” He stood up and began to give her an analysis of her mental state “You got rid of his existence entirely, even when I said that wasn't healthy since you needed to grieve, but you refused everything I suggested.”

She removed every photo of him and hid them all away in boxes in the attic with marker labels that said ‘Do not open ever!’

“Amari. Please, I can-” She tried to explain her actions, but he was having none of this. He wanted her out of his house.

“The only thing you can do is stay in a hotel until we get things figured out.” He sighed, putting his glasses back on and pointing to the front door not carrying it was pouring rain out there.

Anna immediately began to protest “What?! You can't kick me out!” she was close to crying; everything was falling apart for her. But it was for him as well.

“It’s my house, paid for and in my name. Remember that Prenup we both signed? Our finances and assets are separate.” He explained about their situation.

She tried to get him to change his mind. “I...I uh.” But nothing came out.

“Please...just go..” he was losing his adrenaline from earlier and was starting to feel tired as well as his voice was beginning to get hoarse.

She tried to approach him, but he pushed her away and left the room. Leaving her alone.

Anna just ran outside in the rain with a few of her things, and Amari just sat in the living room, exhausted.

Tonight wasn't a good night.

[owlsandwich]

The Mechanics of Magic

Read along with me :D - Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The Mechanics of Magic is a multiple-pov fantasy novel set in an original world where magic exists openly alongside early internet-level technology.

The book follows the surviving prince of a deposed magical royal family, who has been living in secret for two decades, trying to rescue his son whilst uncovering the truth about his family's murder.

Chapter 3 is below the cut!

The last drops of the downpour spattered across the steaming pavement, but the humidity had left Matthew as damp underneath his jacket as he was outside of it. Food smells wafted from the undercover market to his right, mixing with the earthy scent left by the rain.

He was early. The trains had run well for once and, given that he had allowed extra time for the journey, it was a good half hour before he was due to meet Oliver. At least it would give him time to settle in at the rendezvous and dry off.

A shout from an overzealous market seller boomed over the roar of cars and chattering shoppers, and he jolted in alarm. Being in the capital always put him on edge.

Sweeping a lock of soaked, black hair from his eyes, Matthew looked around for the name of the road. A drop of water snuck under the collar of his jacket, running a chilling line down his back as he saw the sign carved into the stonework above. There it is. Practically a historic artefact itself, nowadays. The familiar stab of sorrow followed as he noted the faded royal coat of arms inscribed next to the street name. It was a wonder Morgan Heliodor hadn’t had them all destroyed.

The well-maintained words, at least, told him he was in the right place.

A few shops down, the tearoom looked bright and inviting against the overcast afternoon sky. Matthew pushed the door open and bundled inside. It was occupied, but mercifully quiet. A couple of people in business dress were dotted around the single tables, and a group of women with prams had taken over a corner, too distracted by fidgety babies to notice his entrance.

He headed towards a corner table at the rear, ducking under low beams as he passed. A man was already sat there, his well-cut suit jacket open over an emerald-green waistcoat. Sandy hair fell towards golden eyes that lit up with a smile as they met Matthew’s.

“You’re early.” Oliver rested his half-empty teacup back on its saucer, the movement showing a flash of gold cufflink.

“Not early enough, apparently.” Matthew shook his head in mock disbelief, then dragged a chair around the table so its back was against the wall. His wet jacket began to trickle a puddle onto the floor as he peeled it off, and Oliver frowned.

“Dare I ask why you didn’t use a shield?”

“Didn’t seem like anyone else was doing it. I don’t want to draw attention.”

“Well, I’m not sure that looking like a drowned rat is any more subtle.”

Matthew laughed and sat down, sodden jeans still dripping. Then, drawing on a small amount of his magic, he heated the water in his clothes and hair until it puffed away in a light cloud of steam. “Better?” It definitely felt better. “How long have you been here, anyway? I thought I might have beaten you for once.”

“Not long,” Oliver replied, taking another sip of his tea. “I decided I may as well take a half day; I could certainly use some time off.” He gave a heavy sigh and Matthew noticed dark circles beneath his eyes, ones that even the youthful appearance gifted to those with high magic ability couldn’t hide.

“What, did Morgan change the tax code or something?” Even in jest, the name burned as he said it. He continued in a gentler tone, “You look knackered.”

“Thanks,” Oliver replied. Then with a dismissive shake of his head he seemed to appear brighter. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just unusually busy for this time of year. Actually, that’s probably not a bad thing... Oh!” He pulled out a brown paper bag containing a wrapped parcel. “Before I forget, this is for Alex. Please tell him how sorry I am that I can’t deliver it in person. I don’t suppose he’s heard back from the university yet?”

Oliver passed the bag over to Matthew, who tucked it away by a leg of his chair.

“I imagine he will tell me when I’m next down.” He gave Oliver a sideways glance. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did.”

“I merely offered him a place to stay for the interview. How was I to know he hadn’t involved you?” Oliver’s reply was cool, but Matthew could see a tinge of pink around his ears.

“Oh, come on. Since when do you not know what’s going on in my life?” Matthew ran a frustrated hand through his hair, but there was no anger in his comment. “I thought I was supposed to be your boss.”

“In that case, I thought you were supposed to listen to my advice. He doesn’t understand, and I don’t blame him. Alex thinks that he isn’t good enough.”

“Not good enough?” Matthew paused in confusion. “How? You’ve seen the things he’s made, the spells he’s done. He’s better than I was at his age.”

“I have seen them.” Oliver nodded behind his cup. “And that’s why he can’t understand why his own father wants him to stay wasting away in Couden Cross.”

“He said that?” Matthew’s gaze fell to the wooden table, and he found himself tracing the scuff marks there with his finger. “That’s not what I want. It’s just more important that he’s safe. He can be successful and still have a quiet life.”

“He’d be safer if you told him the truth.”

The clink of Oliver’s empty teacup in his saucer snapped Matthew’s eyes back up.

“I’m not telling him. Not until he’s older. We’ve been through this.” There was an ache in his jaw as he clenched it.

“He’s going to be eighteen. He’s older than you were when it happened.”

“Yeah, and he deserves more time than we got.”

Matthew sat up straighter, anticipating a counterargument, until he noticed that Oliver’s attention had been caught by the tearoom entrance. Concerned, he glanced in the same direction and saw that the group of women were leaving, struggling to squeeze one of their prams out past the heavy door.

With a small exertion of his magic, Matthew nudged the door wider. The women departed, presumably unaware of his interference, though the flare of energy obviously hadn’t been missed by Oliver, who turned to him wide-eyed.

“Everything okay?” Matthew kept his voice low.

“Fine.” The shock on Oliver’s face faded instantly to a blank expression, his eyes becoming unfocused.

He’s talking to Ewen. Matthew sank back in his chair and waited.

For the most part, he found it easy to forget about the other soul that had occupied his friend’s mind for the past twenty-three years. The voice of Oliver’s predecessor had, of course, been a great asset, but Matthew couldn’t help but feel unsettled when he remembered that two people often looked out at him through one pair of eyes. It must be worse for Oliver, and Matthew thanked whatever luck he had left that whoever had crafted the Champion spell hadn’t seen fit to confer the same powers upon the royal line.

“Sorry about that.” With a blink, Oliver’s attention was back in the room. “Would you like a drink? I should have asked when you arrived.”

Matthew didn’t reply, folding his arms sceptically.

“Ewen was advising on tea,” Oliver explained. He looked relaxed enough, but Matthew knew better than to trust his outwards appearance. “This place was actually his recommendation. Would you like me to choose you one to try, or will you have your usual?”

The question was half hearted, but Matthew decided to let it go. Perhaps he’d misread the concern on his friend’s face. “Maybe next time. Just grab me a can of something.” Unlike Oliver, no amount of education or pressure had ever given him a taste for warm drinks.

Oliver groaned and got up from his seat. “Fair enough. Though you don’t know what you’re missing.” He left the table mumbling something that sounded like ‘sacrilege’.

Left to his own thoughts, Matthew let his eyes wander around the room. It was an old building, even by Aedemeer standards, and he wondered how much it had seen over the years. Ewen had been his father’s Tactician, to use the common term for it, and it was odd to think of the man sitting in this very room. Perhaps he had been prompted to visit by his own mentor, and so on, going back generations.

His musings were interrupted by the return of Oliver, who placed a can in front of him along with an empty glass, before taking his seat.

“I’m not saying it has anything to do with us,” he began, arranging a teapot and fresh cup in front of him. “However, I have been observing one of the other patrons— Don’t look!” he commanded.

“I wasn’t going to look!” Matthew said, but his heart rate had increased. He tried to focus on the chilled can in his hands rather than on the other people in the room.

“Their behaviour has raised my suspicion,” continued Oliver. “Now, I need you to tell me if the large, fair-haired gentleman seated to the left of the door looks familiar to you.”

Matthew’s fingers seemed clumsy as he cracked his drink open, looking far less casual than intended. Ignoring the glass, he took a sip directly from the can and glanced over to the table that Oliver had indicated. From here, he had a clear view of the man hunched there, face partially obscured by the newspaper he appeared to be reading. He was tall and broad, wearing a hefty black jacket still damp from the rain. Matthew didn’t recognise him.

“No, I don’t know him,” he said, leaning in towards Oliver so that they could keep their voices low. “What’s he done that’s worried you?”

“He came in earlier, when the women left,” Oliver responded. “He passed the front of the shop three times since you arrived, along with another man, but then entered alone.”

“That’s not hugely suspicious,” Matthew said, though he didn’t relax.

“I agree,” Oliver replied. “However, he hasn’t ordered a drink, nor removed his coat, and I have watched him continue to take glances in this direction from the moment of his arrival, despite the fact he’s attempting to appear engrossed in a newspaper.”

Matthew made a noise of agreement. He didn’t want to be paranoid, but experience told him Oliver wouldn’t have mentioned anything unless he had a genuine concern. As if sensing Matthew’s thoughts, Oliver continued.

“I wouldn’t have wanted to worry you, but as I went up to order, I saw his associate pass by again. He also seemed very focussed in your direction. An innocent man would surely be more interested in his friend than another customer, no?”

“And Ewen agreed?” Matthew waited for Oliver to nod before he continued, panic rising. “How could they have found us?”

It had been so long, he’d half thought Morgan Heliodor had stopped looking, but now—

“It’s not Morgan,” Oliver interrupted, halting his racing thoughts. “These men — they aren’t subtle. I was hardly paying attention and I spotted them.” He spoke with a quiet confidence as he began to pour some tea into his cup. “Besides, they just don’t give off that professional vibe.”

“When are you ever ‘hardly paying attention’?” Matthew muttered, but his heartbeat no longer sounded as loud. “If they aren’t Morgan’s, then who are they?”

“I was hoping you might know.” Oliver narrowed his eyes. “What have you been doing recently?”

Matthew shifted in his seat, rolling the can between his hands so that the soft metal bent under his fingers. “Nothing notable, just work.”

He looked away, unable to meet Oliver’s fixed stare. Even with only two years between them, the Tactician could make him feel like a child.

“There’s one thing I can think of, but that was over two weeks ago.”

“What thing?” Oliver’s tone had turned icy, and Matthew had the uncomfortable feeling that it wasn’t only his friend judging him.

“It was nothing. Really!” Matthew ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I took it on as a quick side job. Something interesting for a change. You know, last week they had me charging lights? Every day for a week. Because it’s still cheaper than getting electricity that far out from the city.”

“I don’t need to know why you did it, just tell me what you did.”

“It was just a lock. Off the books. Nothing special.” Matthew shrugged. “Honestly, I didn’t even think anything of it until now. Some guy moving here from Vailberg wanted to make sure no one could get into one of his rooms. I whacked on a lock and that was it!”

“You’re working for Velbians now?” Oliver seemed surprised but didn’t press further. “What was in the room?”

“It was empty, I don’t know. I didn’t ask questions.”

“Evidently,” Oliver murmured, sipping at his drink. “Do you at least remember the client’s name?”

Matthew frowned as he tried to remember. “Marek? Felix Marek, I think his name was.”

Oliver choked on his tea. “Felix Marek?” he wheezed.

“What?” The reaction brought on another wave of anxiety, and Matthew glanced over at the man near the door. To his relief, he still had his face pressed into his newspaper.

“You do know he was Aiden Heliodor’s business partner?” Oliver’s voice had recovered from the choking, but clearly not from the shock. “He just sold off his shares and retired! Don’t you watch the news?”

“No,” Matthew replied. “I try not to.” Especially at this time of year. He wasn’t pleased to see Oliver’s expression morph into one of pity. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Aiden Heliodor was Morgan Heliodor’s nephew, son of the Arch Canlaw, Kaylee of Vailberg. Matthew felt like a lead weight had dropped into his stomach.

For a moment, Oliver didn’t say anything more. He drummed his fingers lightly against the wood of the table and Matthew focussed on the movement, the world narrowing down to a point.

“I still don’t believe they know who you really are,” Oliver continued eventually. “You say he wanted this lock unregistered? That makes me think it’s not thieves he’s worried about…”

“You’re thinking he’s hiding something from Aiden? Or Morgan?”

“Could easily be both. Though it doesn’t matter either way. My best theory is that this is a silencing operation, and they don’t know who they’re dealing with.”

Fear subsiding, Matthew found it replaced by frustration. Couldn’t he even have a simple drink without something happening? And even worse: he had worried Oliver. “I guess we’d better come up with a plan then.”

“We have a plan.”

Of course we do. Matthew waited for his Tactician to elaborate.

“There’s a back entrance to the tearoom, along a short corridor past the bathroom. It opens out into the alleyway that runs between this building and the wall of the market. You likely walked past it on your way here.”

The market would be a good place to lose a pursuer in the crowd.

“What if they have people waiting in the alley? You said there could be more than one person following us.”

“You’re right. It’s likely the back door is being watched, but I don’t intend for us to fight our way out.” Oliver ran a finger in a line across the table. “If this is the alleyway, and here is where the exit comes out,” he pointed towards the centre of the line, “then slightly to the left, in the wall opposite, you will find an entrance to the market. It was boarded up for years, but when I found it, I decided it could be useful to incorporate it, and this tearoom, into one of our meeting spots.”

“You magic locked it?” Matthew wasn’t surprised that there had been more to this place than just the pleasant atmosphere and fancy tea.

“Yes, to my signature. It’s not ideal but, if we aim to get through quickly, they won’t be able to follow. By the time they reach the main market entrance, we should be out and on our way to the safe house at Wych Cross.”

“Fair enough.” Matthew leaned back in his seat, attempting to stretch some looseness back into his limbs. “So if I get up first, as if I am going to the toilet, then you follow sometime after and we meet up at the exit?”

Oliver rejected his suggestion without a pause. “No need. We’ll go together.”

“Won’t that seem suspicious?”

“Only to someone following us,” Oliver replied, matter-of-factly. “And if they are, they aren’t going to be far behind. We’ll save time and be safer together.”

Not convinced that Oliver just didn’t want to let him out of his sight, Matthew didn’t bother to argue.

“Ready then?” Oliver set aside his empty teacup, and Matthew felt the slight tingle in the air as Oliver’s shields went up. Taking the cue, Matthew drew on his own magic, projecting a shield around his body. He reached back to grab his coat, tucking it over the bag containing Alex’s present and picked up both.

“Nothing strange about two friends going to the bathroom together...” Matthew mumbled as he stood up to follow Oliver to the door.

It was quiet in the small corridor. Matthew squeezed past Oliver, who placed his hand on the door they had just come through and cast a basic lock spell.

“Apologies to anyone who needs the toilet,” he said, tilting his head to indicate they should proceed along the hall, to the fire exit that led to the alleyway.

“Do you think it will be alarmed?” Matthew asked. Touching his hand to the door, he scanned it for magic energy and picked up nothing. Any lock or alarm would be manual.

“No, I checked before we arrived.”

Accepting Oliver’s confirmation, Matthew cast his magic sense out beyond the door. Physical barriers made it harder to pick up the radiating energy of spells or mages, but if anyone was directly outside, he should be able to feel them.

“Anyone out there?” Oliver said, who was no doubt also checking himself.

Matthew closed his eyes to focus. There was a strange presence out there — a mage, maybe. Or some kind of passive spell? “Something to the left, but I can’t tell for certain.”

“You can’t tell?” Oliver hummed as he paused to think. “Well, we’ll have to deal with it as it comes. It’s likely that our tearoom friend has sent a message, so let’s assume they are expecting us.”

Matthew moved aside as Oliver grasped the bar of the fire door, then pushed down on the handle and darted into the alley. With a tight grip on the bag in his hand, Matthew followed.

The cobbled path was slippery from the afternoon rain. Magic focused into his shield, Matthew kept his eyes on Oliver rather than looking for the boarded-up doorway himself. Now they were outside, the confusing magic presence was far more obvious, almost nauseating, unlike any spell he’d ever felt.

They hadn’t made it more than two paces before he heard a shout, followed by a fizzing crack that Matthew felt more than heard. A wave of energy collided with his shield, sending him reeling off balance. He landed clumsily on his knees, pain shooting through his hand as it slammed into the ground. The shield, which should have repelled any attack, warped as it absorbed the energy and shattered.

Senses returning, Matthew heard Oliver shouting from somewhere above his head. The scene in the alley rushed back into focus and his eyes met those of the man who had attacked him.

Smaller and younger than the one who had been watching them in the tearoom, he stood frozen, a look of surprise on his face. Whatever the man held in his hand was still pointed at Matthew, and he scrambled back to his feet. As he did so, the assailant seemed to snap out of his daze.

He charged forward, blocking their passage to the market door, but a blast of magic from Oliver blew him back. Then Matthew felt his friend grab his arm, dragging him — bag, coat, and all — along the alley towards the street.

“I thought we were going to the market!” Matthew called, hurrying to keep pace with Oliver while trying not to slip on the rain-slick stone.

“Change of plan!”

Oliver pulled him around the corner as they reached the main road. When he looked back, the man from the alley was behind them and had been joined by the one from the shop.

“Don’t attack. Too many people,” Oliver instructed through panting breaths. Another flare of magic, and this time the pavement behind them sparkled as Oliver’s spell drained the heat from the water pooled there. The two of them pushed through the crowd, inciting gasps, swiftly followed by the cries of multiple shoppers slipping on the suddenly icy ground.

“What the hell did they attack us with?” Matthew shouted as he ran.

“I don’t know,” Oliver replied. “But if it could knock you down, then it’s too risky to take chances.”

“We need to find somewhere open.”

“Park! Over the road ahead. Let’s try to lose them first.”

As if in response, the air fizzed with another bolt of energy. This time it was followed by screams and a sickening crunch of metal.

Matthew spun on the spot, no longer running. A bus was horizontal across the busy road, the front crushed inwards above the left wheel, leaving it sagging to one side drunkenly. Another car had crashed into it, causing both rows of traffic to come to a standstill.

From here it was impossible to tell whether the passengers in both vehicles were okay. Matthew began to force his way back against the flow of terrified people now rushing in their direction, before Oliver caught his arm.

“Look,” Oliver pointed. Following his gaze, Matthew saw the man from the tearoom, gesturing angrily at his companion and grabbing at whatever the smaller man was holding. “Looks to me like they weren’t supposed to be creating a scene either.”

Sirens began to howl in the distance, the sound causing Matthew’s heart to leap in his chest. Even so, he didn’t move.

“Healers are on their way,” Oliver spoke gently. “Let’s get out while we can.”

“…Okay.” Swallowing his guilt, Matthew followed Oliver as they allowed the crowd to sweep them away.

[lennysfridge]

no like 3 parts maybe

alrighty!

here’s part one

there’s no angst in part one🤸🏼‍♀️

1 week post op, and bear was feeling pretty great. So much so, that she eagerly begged aryne to go to the game, promising to keep herself safely tucked away in the suite. At her mom’s acceptance, she cheered, until she remembered the real test- matty. her matty loved her, that she knew that much. but he had taken the bed rest thing a little too seriously, and she was desperate for some socialization.

“matty, please?” bear begged, looking at her boyfriend from her place on his bed, puppy dog eyes in full effect. matthew ignored her, knowing if he even so much as spared her a glance he was screwed. “matthew knies!” she projected her voice, hoping the boy would give in soon.

“yes barrett tavares?” he questioned, knowing full well what she was about to ask. “hey- don’t do that,” she quickly replied, before launching her main question, “will you be okay if i come to the game? you and i both know i won’t let out stop me, but i need to know it won’t bother you on the ice.” she questioned, trying to get her though process across.

“bear, baby- i love you. you know the thought of you accidentally making your injury worse scares the shit out of me. but i know you’ve been wanting a change of scenery. if you promise to stay in the suite, it shouldn’t worry me too bad.” matthew replies, taking on a slightly serious, slightly teasing tone.

instantly, a smile lights up bear’s face, as she excitedly responds, “i promise matty!”

and the second the words fall from her lips, she shoots up, “i gotta go plan my outfit with mom!” and takes off to find aryne.

a few hours later

aryne, bear, the boys, and bug are all getting ready to head out of the house. john and matty had left a while ago, making sure to get to the rink with plenty of time to spare.

“bear, do you need help?” aryne calls out, as her oldest was lagging behind a bit, and she figured it must be due to her unavailable limb. “im coming mom!” bear calls back, quickly grabbing her new meds off of her dresser, and quickly swallowing them and shutting her bedroom door, not bothering to read the warnings, as she figured aryne or john would’ve said something. if only…

when the family got to the stadium, aryne came around to the passenger side, opening the door for bear. “mom i got it,” bear insisted, before being cut off, “barrett, let us help. i know it’s annoying to have us in your space, but we just want to help,” aryne says firmly, causing bear to give in. “okay, okay- jace, do you think you can carry sissy’s water?” she questions towards her brother, hoping he’d be able to lessen the amount of things she had to carry with her one good arm. “yes sissy!” jace eagerly responds, walking in front of his sister, reaching his arms towards her water bottle. “thank you,” bear lovingly replies, leaning down to the best of her abilities to place a kiss on the boy’s head.

“alright family, lets head up to suite now and get settled,” aryne addresses three of the four other people, bug fast asleep in the baby carrier. and with that, the family made their way inside.

once the family made it to the suite, there was suddenly a knock on the door. aryne got up and opened it, being faced with a smiling kniesy, as well as john. “this one said it probably wouldn’t be smart for bear to be around so many moving people, and i kinda had to agree.” at his statement, bear made a face, op wing her mouth to reply, before being cut off by her father saying, “yes bear, we’ll go visit the team afterwards. the crowds are what bother me.” and at his response, bear closed her mouth, nodding her head in compliance. “now i think it’s time for my favorite thing,” kniesy suddenly says, an expectant tone in his voice. reading his tone, bear got up, a grin creeping on to her face, letting everyone in the room know she understood what he meant. when she was chest to chest with matthew, she quickly leaned up and gave the taller boy a few pecks on his jaw, followed by a chaste kiss. “for good luck!” they say almost in unison, shy smiles on their faces. the couple thought they got a few moments of peace, before axton (right? that’s his name?) exclaimed “eww sissy,” causing the whole family to burst into giggles.

after a few more minutes of soaking up family time, matty and john both glanced towards each other, silently agreeing they needed to go. “we’ve gotta head out,” and at john’s words, both boys dived towards a pair of legs screaming, “good luck dad/matty!,” respectively.

this is so cute

over protective matty>>

[brownbitchshit]

Review filled with probable unpopular opinions and spoilers.........

Before I start the review,I'd like to say that I went into watching this movie with the absolute mindset that there's no way a book like RWRB (which is one of my most favourite books of all time) can be adapted into a 2 hour long movie and since series wasn't doable, I'll have to make do with this. So I truly went in with the hopes of seeing my FirstPrince and generally getting the heart of the movie. But contrary to what people are saying, I think the movie tried to adapt too much of the book plot and lost the main vibe of the story in the process. As I go into the details and spoilers, I'd like to be clear that they are my opinions only. It's in no way an attack or criticisms on anyone who loved the movie. So please do not take it personally and consider it my ranting.

................................. Spoilers.….....................................

1. First problem I have with the movie is how much it tried to adapt of the book. I know, it sounds controversial but lemme explain. The book had too many plots and I personally felt like despite cutting down characters and simplifying some major plot points, the movie tried to show too much of too many plots. In the process, the plots that needed the time to breathe in order to translate the main heart of the story, got lost in translation. For example Henry losing his father, his existential crisis, him being in the closet for the crown. Even though he kept saying he cant be out and everything but the story never really showed what's at stake. Even Stephen Fry's King seemed very harmless which made the entire plot kind of moot. Same goes for Alex. Without his parents' divorce, his entire I don't think I'm good enough vibe just didn't come across. I generally felt like in order to get all the stories across, they didn’t spend any time to capture the fear of them being together, the horror of being out and the repercussions of what it meant and mostly why their characters are more than just 'Privileged public figures who live in palaces'. By not showing Henry's mom they erased the pain and impact he had of losing his father and by not showing June and Alex's parents' divorce,they erased the explanation about his fierceness and determination.

2. I personally was in support of aged-up Alex and Henry simply because it made their love-story more solid. But the problem was despite having aged-up cast, Matthew Lopez tried to keep their characters very true to the book. Which meant at time Taylor Zakhar Perez as Alex looked extremely immature and weird acting like a early 20 something guy when he clearly was not. Also his entire 'They don't like me' 'I don't know if I'm good enough' insecurity seemed childish especially since none of his other issues were shown like his parents's divorce or ADHD. Again I think instead of going through the checklist of getting all the book plots done, they should have explained Alex's background a little more showing why him as a brown man feels this need to be the best, why he finds it so hard to accepted by people. Obviously they mention it, but they never get into it. Which is a shame tbh.

3. Erasing June and keeping Nora while not explaining who Nora is, kind of lightened Alex's character even more. Apart from helping Alex to realize his sexuality, she literally served no purpose. At least if June were there, they could've shown some sibling bonding and a deeper look at Alex's character and explain the whole dynamic of being the first son and daughter of USA while being POCs.

4. The few changes that truly bothered me which served no purpose at all and again changed the tone of the film are Alex's confession scene in the rain and him giving a speech without Henry's input. I don't know why they chose not to give us the passionate reunion when Alex storms into the Kensington and instead cut to the V&A scene because honestly it didn’t make sense. We could do without the V&A scene and instead spend more time on them talking about their feelings more and just spend more time into that moment to build its momentum. It all felt extremely rushed which easily could have been avoided. And also why Alex will choose to come out without Henry and make a speech about their relationship without their input made no sense. It just made it seem like being Bi and dating Henry is easier for Alex and he had no real threat by putting himself out there like that whereas in the book we could feel how vulnerable it made him and how scared they both were when he made the 'America, he is my choice' speech.

Now the things that I liked/loved :

1. The lake scene. The entire scene was so well done, maybe because for once they took the time to slow down and let Henry's emotion show for once. I thought it was more beautiful than it was in the book.

2. Alex's involvement in the politics. If there was one thing that Matthew Lopez did to adjust the plot to Alex's age was this and I personally liked seeing this bit because again for the first time it gave us a glimpse of who Alex was and what his ambitions were which was lacking from the rest of the film.

3. Alex's scenes with his family was spot on. No complain there.

4. Alex and Henry's intimate scenes were well done. Although I wish they were a bit longer and more sensual but I liked it. I am confused though why is this film R-rated (except for TZP's butt scene) because the sex scenes were extremely innocent.

5. Henry when he finds out about the leak. That scene was again well done because they took the time to show the emotion and the heart of the movie.

To sum it up, I feel like the movie tried to adapt too much of the book. I think Matthew truly made the movie like a fan which in my opinion backfired a little. Because I think since this book is too long to be adapted into a movie, the best course of action should've been to capture the main theme of the story and make many changes accordingly. I think he chose to serve the book lovers, which is not a bad way to make an adaptation but I think as a movie, it is what let it down. As the book fan, you probably will be happy to see the plot checklists being ticked in. But as a movie, I found the plots very rushed, characters underdeveloped and underutilized, unnecessary storylines and the love story underdeveloped. Although I would give kudos to Nicholas Galitzine and Taylor Zakhar Perez because they were good as Henry and Alex. I wish Matthew had done a better job with their character development because these two could have really made Henry and Alex into 100% perfection and take the movie to the next level.

[creativewaygrace]

Bible Verses on Focus

1 Corinthians 2:14- But the person without the Spirit does not receive what comes from God's Spirit, because it is foolishness to him, he is not able to understand it since it is evaluated spiritually.

1 Peter 2:24- He bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that having died to sins, we might live for righteousness. By his wounds, you have been healed.

1 Peter 5:8- Be sober-minded, be alert. Your adversary the devil is prowling around like a roaring lion, looking for anyone he can devour.

2 Timothy 1:7- For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but one of power, love, and sound judgment.

2 Timothy 2:4- No one serving as a soldier gets entangled in the concerns of civilian life, he seeks to please the commanding officer.

Colossians 3:2- Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.

Ephesians 4:29- No foul language should come from your mouth, but only what is good for building up someone in need.

Hebrews 12:2- Keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfector of our faith. For the joy that lay before him, he endured the cross, despising the shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

Isaiah 26:3- You will keep the mind that is dependent on you in perfect peace, for it is trusting in you.

Isaiah 41:10- Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you: I will help you: I will hold on to you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 42:5- This is what God, the Lord, says who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people on it and spirit to those who walk on it.

Isaiah 50:7- The Lord God will help me; therefore I have not been humiliated, therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know I will not be put to shame.

Joshua 1:8- This book of instruction must not depart from your mouth: you are to meditate on it day and night so that you may carefully observe everything written in it. For then you will prosper and succeed in whatever you do.

Luke 21:36- But be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that are going to take place and stand before the Son of Man.

Matthew 24:13- But the one who endures to the end will be saved.

Matthew 24:22- Unless those days were cut short, no one would be saved. But those days will be cut short because of the elect.

Matthew 24:42- Therefore be alert, since you don't know what day your Lord is coming.

Matthew 24:44- This is why you are also to be ready because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.

Matthew 6:24- No one can serve two masters, since either he will hate one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.

Matthew 6:33- But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you.

Nehemiah 6:3- So I sent messengers to them, saying. " I am doing important work and cannot come down. Why should the work cease while I leave it and go down to you?

Philippians 4:13- I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

Philippians 4:8- Finally brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any moral excellence, and if there is anything praiseworthy, dwell on these things.

Proverbs 16:3- Commit your activities to the Lord, and your plans will be established.

Proverbs 4:25- Let your eyes look forward, fix your gaze straight ahead.

Psalm 119:15- I will meditate on your precepts and think about your ways.

Romans 12:2- Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God.

Romans 12:21- Do not be conquered by evil, but conquer evil with good.

Romans 13:11- Besides this, since you know the time, it is already the hour for you to wake up from sleep because now our salvation is nearer than when we first believed.

Romans 15:4- For whatever was written in the past was written for our instruction, so that we may have hope through endurance and through the encouragement from the scriptures.

[codes]

Hi Matthew!! I hope you had a good day, if not, I wish you have a good week!! 🌿

Random and cliche question (only if you don't mind answering!). As someone who achieved great results in academics and finished uni, do you have any advice or messages you can give to someone who started uni this year? (and, ngl, is failing a bit)?

I hope the question doesn't bother you, you don't have to answer it!

Closing sentence: May all the Senas and Leos there is comes home to you early 🙏

hi anon, I hope you manage to see this! I’ll put it under the cut

I think you’re giving me far too much credit on academics! I mostly just quietly did my work then fucked off every weekend but I rlly wanted to start this off by saying that it’s okay to fail. It’s stressful for sure, it can really lower your morale, but a fail doesn’t and will never define you. It’s not the end of the world, you won’t suddenly collapse and die (even if it feels like it in the moment), and you can always try again. I actually had some professors say that they failed some classes when they started, my own therapist said that she failed a damn intro to psychology class too. It happens to people you admire, it doesn’t mean that they stopped trying tho or that it defined the rest of their career or life after college.

Your life doesn’t begin and end with college either, it sure as hell seems like it but I remember seeing a talk by rlly successful women who were asked if their grades mattered outside of college and all of them said no. you should always try to do your best! But it’s also okay to acknowledge that trying to seek perfection will do more harm than good.

Aiming for improvement is always the best thing to do in anything tho and you already made the hardest step by reaching out, even if it was through an anon ask. The first thing I’d probably do is see if your professors or TAs have office hours so they can go over your work with you if you’re having problems with a concept, walk-ins are usually fine but sometimes professors are busy so see if you can arrange an appointment if that happens.

if you have a question during class, ASK IT. Don’t be nervous, don’t let yourself be scared of something that will last a minute. Professors have seen and taught a lot more classes and answered countless questions, they’re there to help you and there’s absolutely no harm in asking what you may think is obvious. It also helps them remember you and it’s rlly nice to have that connection.

And please be social. Please look to your left and right, see who’s sitting there, and ask them what they thought of the homework. Forming a study group is hard if you don’t know anyone but finding a friend in a classroom is soooooo beneficial, being able to ask someone for help on something you’re not sure on saved my life more than once. Most people are a lil shy or quiet but I found it easier to start a convo after saying hello or asking a question about the class.

I always felt that the first tests of the semester are always the hardest bc you never know information that the professor is looking for but once you get a handle of what they want, it becomes much easier because then you know how and what material to study. I never really had a study method so I can’t give tips on that, but don’t color code your notes too much if it’ll distract you from what’s actually being written. No one listens to this advice but also try not to cram a day before an exam, starting your study guide even just 3 days beforehand will save your life when you’re stressed out and trying not to panic.

Some anxiety is good! It motivates us to start studying and get a good grade, but even if it’s easier to say than to put into practice, try not to let it consume you.

Also join a club and unwind a bit, you can meet new people. I found that my internship was a good way to take my mind off classes too, please look for some during holidays breaks! They’re very helpful and look good on resumes but it’s mostly a thing for the future. let yourself be more confident in your classes before worrying about that.

Good luck, anon! I hope what I have to say is beneficial, if you have any specific questions please let me know but there’s lots of resources available for you! Tutoring, office hours, other students, etc.

You never have to rely on just yourself, remember making mistakes is a part of learning. Please take it easy and let me know how it goes!

They wish the best for you too:

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

31st August >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 24:42-51 for Thursday, Twenty First Week in Ordinary Time: ‘You too must stand ready’.

Thursday, Twenty First Week in Ordinary Time

Gospel (Except USA) Matthew 24:42-51 He is coming at an hour you do not expect.

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming. You may be quite sure of this, that if the householder had known at what time of the night the burglar would come, he would have stayed awake and would not have allowed anyone to break through the wall of his house. Therefore, you too must stand ready because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.

‘What sort of servant, then, is faithful and wise enough for the master to place him over his household to give them their food at the proper time? Happy that servant if his master’s arrival finds him at this employment. I tell you solemnly, he will place him over everything he owns. But as for the dishonest servant who says to himself, “My master is taking his time,” and sets about beating his fellow servants and eating and drinking with drunkards, his master will come on a day he does not expect and at an hour he does not know. The master will cut him off and send him to the same fate as the hypocrites, where there will be weeping and grinding of teeth.’

Gospel (USA) Matthew 24:42-51 Stay awake!

Jesus said to his disciples: “Stay awake! For you do not know on which day your Lord will come. Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour of night when the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and not let his house be broken into. So too, you also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.

“Who, then, is the faithful and prudent servant, whom the master has put in charge of his household to distribute to them their food at the proper time? Blessed is that servant whom his master on his arrival finds doing so. Amen, I say to you, he will put him in charge of all his property. But if that wicked servant says to himself, ‘My master is long delayed,’ and begins to beat his fellow servants, and eat and drink with drunkards, the servant’s master will come on an unexpected day and at an unknown hour and will punish him severely and assign him a place with the hypocrites, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.”

Reflections (3)

(i) Thursday, Twenty First Week in Ordinary Time

At the beginning of our first reading, Paul says to the church he had recently established, ‘your faith has been a great comfort to us in the middle of our own troubles and sorrows’. Paul was a great preacher of the gospel, a leading figure in the early church. Yet, he needed the faith of others to sustain his own faith. In today’s first reading, the faith of his young church led him to give thanks to God for them and for all the joy their faith had brought him. We can never underestimate how our own faith and the living of our faith can be a support to other people of faith. When others support us in faith, we are drawn to supporting them in faith in turn. This is what we find happening in our first reading. In response to the church’s support of him, Paul supports them by praying for them, ‘May the Lord be generous in increasing your love… may he confirm your hearts in holiness’. There is a vision here of the church in every generation, people of faith being supported by and supporting other people of faith. This is one of the reasons we gather as a community of faith in various settings, including and especially at the Eucharist. In the gospel reading, Jesus speaks of the faithful and wise servant whom the master finds at his employment whenever he arrives home. One of the ways we show ourselves to be faithful and wise servants of the Lord is by supporting one another’s faith, building each other up in the Lord. This ministry of encouragement is one we are all called to exercise for each other; it is rooted in our baptism.

And/Or

(ii) Thursday, Twenty First Week in Ordinary Time

In the gospel reading Jesus calls on his disciples to be ready for the coming of the Son of Man, which will happen at an hour they do not expect. At the end of the first reading we find Paul’s prayer for the church in Thessalonica. He prays that the Lord would confirm their hearts in holiness so that they may be blameless in the sight of our God and Father when our Lord Jesus Christ comes with all his saints. The preceding sentence of Paul’s prayer reveals his understanding of being ‘blameless’. There he prays that the Lord would be generous in increasing their love and would make them love one another and the whole human race, as much as Paul himself loves them. For Paul, it is the person who loves others with the love of the Lord who will stand ready when the Lord comes. Such a love is not just a human achievement. It is fundamentally the fruit of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of the Lord. It is the work of the Lord in our lives, which is why Paul prays that the Lord would increase the love of the church. When we read the Lord’s call in the gospel reading to stand ready for his coming in the light of the first reading, we come to understand that it is only the Lord himself who can enable us to be ready. We need to open ourselves to the Lord’s empowering presence now, if we are to be ready for his coming to us in the future, be it at the hour of our death or the end of this age.

And/Or

(iii) Thursday, Twenty First Week in Ordinary Time

We have become very security conscious in recent years. The house alarm has become almost essential and we are much more inclined to keep doors locked than we might have been in the past. This greater security consciousness is a sign of the times. We live in an age when respect for the property of others is less of a value than it once was. However, burglars are not a purely modern phenomenon. Jesus was fond of expressing his teaching in images drawn from the experience of the people he was talking to. In the first of the parables in this morning’s gospel reading we find Jesus using the image of the burglar breaking into someone’s house. Clearly this was an experience that those he was speaking to could relate to. Jesus draws attention to the element of surprise in the burglar’s tactics. The only way for the householder not to be surprised by the arrival of the burglar is for him to stay awake all night. The householder staying awake all night becomes in Jesus’ parable an image of the disciples remaining alert to the presence, to the coming, of the Lord. The Lord lives in constant awareness of us; we are called to live in constant awareness of him. We find it difficult to be aware of the Lord all the time, because so many other things fill our minds and hearts. Yet, that is what the Lord asks of us. We are to attend to, be aware of, his constant presence to us. This is what might be termed the contemplative attitude. There is a sense in which we are all called to become contemplatives in the midst of our daily lives.

Fr. Martin Hogan.