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sailor-manga · 4 years

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“After Hours”- a Shouta Aizawa prompt fic.

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, I absolutely loved to write it!. Thank you for the kind words and I really hope you enjoy it <3

Warning: Smut, Swearing, Rough.

Word Count: 1,390

Prompts used: 1.(Hold still!, you’re going to get us caught”), 39.(”Don’t misbehave”), 40.(”This is my final warning”), 51.(”Bend over, I’m not kidding”), and 68.(”Kitten, don’t make me tell you twice”).

The last school bell of the day would ring loudly, causing you to jump from your half dozed state. Thankfully the school day was over and you could finally go home. You worked as an office aid for U.A High school, you spent most of the day directing calls and taking notes for Principal Nezu.

Most people knew already that you were dating one of your fellow co-workers Shouta Aizawa, so it was no surprise that as soon as you were able to leave your station, you would head down to his classroom and wait for him so you two could go back to his place together.

Leaning against the doorframe, you’d look at a very tired, very stressed boyfriend “Hey you” you’d say quietly before stepping inside. Shouta would lift his head from the papers he was grading and look you up and down. You had chosen to wear a black pencil skirt that hugged your hips tightly, and a button up white blouse. The outfit hugged your curves nicely and Shouta caught a quick note of that. “Close the door” he instructed, setting down his pen and resting his chin on the top of his hand.

Blinking a few times, you would look from the door to him in confusion. The male would tap his fingers against the wooden desk “Kitten, don’t make me tell you twice” he said with a soft smirk on his face.

Blushing softly, you would turn around and close the door, with your hand still on the handle you would hear him chime out “Don’t forget to lock it”. Biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together, you would do as told and click the lock before turning back around to face him. By the time you did all that, he was slowly standing from his desk and stalking his way towards you with that devilish smile of his.

“Shouta, what do you think you’re doing” you’d mutter out quietly as he quickly caged you against the door with his arms “What does it look like I’m doing? I want my woman..” he growled, leaning forward to kiss along your jawline. The door would start to shake as you continuously squirmed in his arms, causing his arms to tightly around your waist “Hold still, you’re going to get us caught” he said in a low tone before pulling you from the door and starting to lead you over to his desk.

“S-Shouta, don’t you think this is a little too risky?” you’d ask with a soft frown on your face. The male would continue to lead you to his desk until he would lift you up to sit upon it. “Don’t misbehave” he ordered, causing your head to swirl. You loved and hated when he got like this, it took very little for your boyfriend to get you turned on. His domineering personality was what made you fall for him after all.

“I missed you all day, can’t I just enjoy my darling?” he asked smoothly, which made you swoon immediately “Of course you can” you’d finally breathe out. He took that as permission and slowly pushed your legs apart, his hands slowly traveling up your skirt to pull your panties off. Blushing deeply, you’d watch as he crumpled them up in his hand and put them into his pocket.

The male would place a hand on your shoulder, easing you back to lay down on the papers he was grading, sending a few of the papers elegantly floating to the floor. Covering your face with your hands you would feel his lips slowly start to bite and kiss down your thigh before reaching its destination, his scruff tickling the folds of your slick cunt.

Attempting to squeeze your thighs together, he would grip onto one of them to keep your legs open “This is my final warning, Kitten.. Stay still and you’ll get what you want” he said in a low, deep tone. Biting your lip, you’d lay your head back and you’d finally feel that sinful tongue split apart your folds, licking up to your clit where he’d circle his wet muscle teasingly. Letting out a soft gasp, you would reach up and grip at the edge of the desk.

Letting out a feral growl, he would bury his face into your pussy, making sure to get it nice and slick for what was coming next. Tonguing your hole, he would make sure to prod and tease at it before shoving it as far in as he could get, swirling it around making sure he savored your taste. Moaning out again, you’d cover your mouth and curl your toes, his tongue alone was enough to make you cum, but where was the fun in that? Pulling away from your throbbing sex, he would lift his head up to look at you “I got my taste” he said with a smirk before standing up and stepping back so you could get up.

“Bend over the desk, I’m not kidding” he growled, starting to loosen his belt “I can’t wait until we get home, I need that slutty little pussy wrapped around my cock right now” he groaned. Staring up at him for a moment, you would slowly slide off the desk and turn around, bending over and wiggling your ass in front of him. His hand was quick to give it a firm smack, smirking at the way you would let out a gasp and press your tits against the wood.

“Such a pretty little kitty..” he purred as he stepped forward, hiking up your skirt so he could watch as the swollen head of his cock could poke and tease at that needy hole. After a moment of rubbing his cock against your wetness, he would push himself inside and let out a growl, both of his hands holding onto your hips firmly. Biting onto your sleeve, you would muffle out the loud moan that escaped your lips as the male started out with slow thrusts.

The feeling of his twitching cock inside of you was one of the best feelings, the way he would grind inside of you in circular motions, making sure to massage every inch of inside of you. With your tongue hanging out of your mouth now, you would moan every time he thrusted that girthy cock into your tight little pussy, but soon you had to bite your sleeve again.

Shouta quickly picked up his pace, rather than thrusting he would move your hips onto his dick, letting out a chuckle as he did so “Watching your ass bounce against me is the sexiest thing, Kitten.. Mmn, fuck.. Do you want my load?” he grunted out, which made your thoughts hazy “Mn.. yes, please, Shouta.. Fuck.. “ you’d muffle out, still trying to contain your volume.

“Fuck yeah, Kitten.. That’s what I want to hear. It’s coming now, don’t make too much of a mess” he teased before slowly his movements, but becoming much more rough. Your body seemed to tap out before his, with the way his engorged head was smacking into your G-Spot, you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your walls would tighten around him like a vice and you would cum hard on his cock.

The male would growl out and push past the resistance, finally unloading hot and sticky ribbons of his semen inside of you, coating every last inch before leaning over and placing a few kisses along your shoulder.

Both of you would pant heavily and try to gain back a proper mind. He was first, slowly pulling your skirt down and helping you stand back up “Fuck, you’re so sexy” he muttered, turning you around and pulling you into a heated kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you would moan onto his lips and let out a soft giggle “You always know how to make me feel so good” you’d mutter against his lips.

Pulling away, he would adjust himself and put his belt back on.

“Fuck these papers, they can wait.. We need to go now so I can have my round two”

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thepointoftheneedle · 4 years

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WIP Wednesday

This is from an, as yet untitled, political story. This, however, is a scene at a college party.

The next afternoon Archie came home and threw a bag at Jug. “Ronnie sent this. You’re George Bailey out of It’s A Wonderful Life. She says to wear it with sweats.” Jug pulled from the bag a dark blue hooped sweatshirt with a large three on the front. It wasn’t so different from his usual S t-shirt so he prepared to sacrifice his sartorial principals on the altar of friendship and go to Veronica’s dumb fucking costume party.

He hated it from the moment he arrived. It was like a John Landis, Animal House, fever dream of a college rager. He’d hoped the keg stand was but a horrific high school memory but apparently he’d been mistaken. There was, honest to god, beer pong happening, unironically. He took a solo cup so that no-one would offer him a drink, poured out its noxious contents in a pot plant and stood in the shadows at the back of the room, judging everyone like it was an Olympic event and he planned to take gold.

Then he saw her. She was wearing a loose white nightshirt that reached her ankles. She was wearing thick socks under it, they peeked out at the hem. He had no idea what she was supposed to be until he spotted that she was carrying a pair of wings on a wire harness by her side. So she was a fairy but she hadn’t gone with the whole “but make it sexy” vibe that the girls dressed as sexy cats or sexy unicorns or sexy vegetables had thrown themselves into. She was a fairy in thick woolly socks. And, he thought, that made her, by some considerable distance, the sexiest woman in the room. She was a blonde which helped; he was unimaginatively partial to blondes. She moved well too, head up, back straight, no swaying or lurching or teetering on heels. She must have felt his eyes on her because she looked over and grinned. Then she was walking over to him. He was not prepared to actually speak to her and his stomach lurched. He wished he hadn’t poured away the drink. “Hey, you’re George right?” she smiled.

He was about to correct her when he realised that she was talking about the costume. She had to be quite the movie buff if she’d got it just from the shirt. She gestured down her body and, to his shame, his eyes followed her hand. The nightshirt was voluminous but there was just a hint of shape at the bust and hip. He felt dry mouthed. “Clarence. I’m Clarence,” she said “AS2, Angel second class.”

Then he gave her a line the cheesiness of which he had been trying to live down ever since that day. “Nothing about you is second class. Straight up angel.” He at least had the decency to look embarrassed at having said it but she actually blushed. It was adorable. He wanted to hug her. And then he wanted to kiss her and then he wanted to fly her to Paris and lock padlocks on bridges and buy her roses and sketch her while she reclined on a fucking chaise longue. He was seriously losing his shit. He wondered with academic curiosity if this was how it was for Archie, kind of like being hit by a tsunami but one made of kittens and candy and those heart shaped throw pillows that girls had in their dorm rooms.

#bughead fanfiction #bughead fanfic #why in the name of all that is holy have I started writing this?#once I had the costume idea it really wouldn't be denied #title might be sweetest reflection #because “Always vote for principle though you may vote alone and you may cherish the sweetest reflection that your vote is never lost.”

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myncisworld-2point0 · 4 years

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[NOTE: This article is from 2014.]

According to some people, Mark Harmon is best known to his fans as Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs on CBS’s hit drama series NCIS. Those people are wrong, of course, because he’s always going to be Freddy Shoop, a summer school teacher in over his head in 1987’s appropriately-titled Summer School. Harmon turns the ripe, young age of 63 today, and it’s clearer than ever that this man is in possession of a map that leads to the Fountain of Youth, because Harmon ages with grace, am I right, ladies? In fact, while it’s no wonder why this actor was named People’s Sexiest Man Alive in 1986, it is rather shocking that he never received that accolade again, specifically in 1987, when the most important work of his career was released.

The coke-fueled era of the 1980s in Hollywood was filled with more high school movies about slackers and smartasses than anyone actually needed, especially when it came to featuring students who looked like they were older than the teachers. Summer School was always perhaps the most underrated of the decade’s tributes to slackademics (trademark pending) because what it lacked in the typical star power of, say, a John Hughes film, it more than made up for in creating arguably the most creative collection of “teenage” dipshits than any film of the genre. At the same time, it showed that Harmon, who was probably best known at the time for his role as the HIV-positive Dr. Robert Caldwell on St. Elsewhere, had a strong sense of comedy, while also confirming (along with her debut on Cheers that same year) that Kirstie Alley was much, much more than just a really attractive Vulcan.

youtube

Summer School isn’t just some cult classic that people love to mention whenever someone randomly asks, “Hey, whatever happened to Dean Cameron?” It was actually well-received at the box office, earning $36 million in theaters on what I assume was a budget of a few rolls of nickels and someone’s baseball card collection. Critics, however, were a little more mixed on this mindless comedy, as Roger Ebert gave it one-half star out of four, which sounds a lot better than one star out of eight, so you know what? I’ll take it.

Maybe in the movie business we could coin the term vaporfilm, for movies that zip right through our brains without hitting any memory molecules.

“Summer School” is a movie like that, a comedy so listless, leisurely and unspirited that it was an act of the will for me to care about it, even while I was watching it. This movie has no particular reason for being, other than to supply employment for people whose job possibilities will not be enhanced by it. (Via RogerEbert.com)

Here’s a tip for all of you aspiring film critics out there, courtesy of King Ebert – if you’re watching a movie with a title as lazy as Summer School, and the opening of the film features a school’s teachers trying to haul ass after the bell on the last day of the semester so they don’t get suckered into teaching the titular course, get up and walk out. Leave the movie for those of us who love to watch stupid movies and go to the next theater to watch and analyze La Bamba. Perhaps that’s why the fan reviews of Summer School on Netflix seem to be so glowing, as I only found three that were two stars or less. In fact, here’s the worst of them all:

Nothing but trash. Nothing worth seeing. Degenerate teens in bad need of harsh discipline. It’s depressing to think that so many young people actually enjoy this trash. This movie is immediately available from NF while so many more interesting ones languish in the ‘saved’ section, or in ‘short wait’, ‘long wait’, or ‘very long wait’ status. Just one more nail in the coffin of American culture, or lack thereof.

Thank God Armond White weighed in. The majority of people, myself included, fondly remember Summer School for what it is – a fun, stupid movie that was meant to make us laugh, while perhaps also rubbing our noses in the awesomeness of 80s California if we didn’t live there. But I’ll take this analysis one step further by laying out these 10 very important lessons that I took away from Summer School after watching it this morning, in paying tribute to Harmon, a man who was Kevin Costner before Kevin Costner was Kevin Costner.

Always put sunglasses on your dog.

Fact: 100% of movie posters that have dogs wearing sunglasses on them are movies that I’m willing to at least watch. The movie could be called This Dog Dies from Space AIDS, and I’d still be curious to see why that dog is wearing sunglasses.

Always have an escape plan.

When everybody else is hauling ass from the faculty parking lot at the last second, there’s no reason that you shouldn’t already be packed for your trip to Hawaii. I don’t like to point fingers, but Mr. Shoop’s girlfriend is clearly at fault here. All she had to do was pack the car for him, and he could have jumped in and taken off for the airport. Instead, Kim kicked her man while he was down and not only snatched her ticket to Hawaii from the pocket of his rad flowered shirt, but she also told him to drive her to the airport. I don’t mean to offend anyone who is overprotective of fictional characters, but I hope that Kim was eventually fed to the volcano gods.

Also, let’s consider this a lesson within a lesson – would you walk away from your teaching job right now if someone handed you a winning lottery ticket for $50,000? I say no. Just pass all of the morons while you spend the class time reading up on investment opportunities.

Never be afraid to encourage the creativity of your students.

https://youtu.be/-5Pku48YPFo

The true sign of a teacher’s efforts in a classroom is how far the students are willing to go to show others their appreciation of his work. In Shoop’s case, once he resigned because his students were greedy little pricks, those same students objected to a new teacher taking over the class by staging a gruesome and horrifying murder scene, complete with two of the students wielding chainsaws, declaring themselves psychopaths and thus taking credit for the violence. Of course, I can’t stress this enough, no high school students should ever think about trying to recreate this scene today.

On a side note, and I hate to nitpick true artistic masterpieces, if you’re going to have a severed hand pull a dude’s tongue out of his mouth and slap him with it, it’s really important that he not blink. Damn it, people, we need accuracy.

Being a male teacher in California in 1987 was probably terrifying.

https://youtu.be/farC0cWkpvc

Between Summer School and Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, 1987 was a huge year for Courtney Thorne-Smith. Hell, both movies came out in the same week in July, when she was just 19 years old and poised to become the next big things in terms of girls that all teen boys wanted to marry. Unfortunately, her movie career never really panned out, as the last live action role she had on the big screen was as Natalie in the Carrot Top hot fart Chairman of the Board. Her TV career was obviously a lot better, but that’s neither here nor there. Having her play a lovelorn surf goddess crushing on Shoop probably lured a lot of guys to the teaching profession, only to have them learn the hard way that prison sucks.

Additionally, there was the foreign exchange student Anna-Maria Mazarelli, who would grow up to win our hearts as Alotta Fagina. Was it standard procedure for foreign exchange students to be shoved into remedial English classes upon arrival? Sure.

It’s important to support fine arts programs.

https://youtu.be/u0kF24ceZMI

When I write about how hilarious it was how Hollywood tried to make us buy that some actors were teenagers when they were clearly at least a decade older, Ken Olandt is really Exhibit A. The guy who played Larry, the sleeping student by day and male stripper by night, was actually 29 when he was portraying a 17-year old, which is pretty hard to pass when very few teenage boys A) look like that and B) are hired to shake their dongs in strip clubs. Still, glaring age gaps and statutory and employment laws aside, it was nice to see that Shoop was so cool about Larry’s awesome after-school job. That is until he was busted by his mom and presumably spent the next decade in therapy.

It’s not lying if the company ripped you off in the first place.

The first time that I ever saw Summer School, I was convinced that the part about writing letters to companies to get free stuff would work every time. I spent a lot of time trying to write letters to the companies that made my favorite toys, so I could convince them that the action figures and especially the vehicles that I couldn’t afford had been broken. But then I realized that I might be called on my BS, and guys in suits might show up to my home demanding to see the broken toys, and then I’d be screwed and sent off to prison for lying. Ultimately, owning Krang’s fortress wasn’t worth a life spent in prison making license plates, which is how TV and movies taught me that license plates were made.

Jail in California looks very scary.

I still don’t know what the guy with the mustache is doing with his hand, but it’s really scary and I don’t want to ever have someone do that to me, so I’ve chosen to lead a life on the straight and narrow. Thank you, Summer School, for teaching us that jail is filled with scary perverts who want to do bad things to shirtless men on roller skates.

No matter the risk, steal your boss’s girlfriend.

https://youtu.be/B7ZTNm5o780

Vice Principal Gills was a pretty big bite in the ass, so we had to cheer for Shoop in pursuit of Robin Bishop, because Shoop was the coolest and his girlfriend had only recently taken off for Hawaii without him. Sure, Robin was kind of stuck up because she questioned the legitimacy of taking students to something as awesome as a petting zoo, which produced adorable moments like this:

And she also wore a denim shirt tucked into a different shade of denim skirt, because it was the 80s, but she had a good heart and she just wanted what was best for all students, even if it meant agreeing to a date with Shoop to get there. Also, Gills looked like a total goober-douche, and there’s no reason he should have been with Robin.

Education can be a compromise.

https://youtu.be/LzdoMQL_jR8

Is Alan Eakien one of the most underrated teen nerds of cinema? I say yes. That kid may have been dumber than rocks compared to his genius brothers, but he negotiated circles around Shoop. In exchange for a slightly-above-half-assed effort from less than half of the original class roster*, Shoop’s couch was set on fire, his goldfish murdered and car wrecked, bookending that whole going to jail for the two D-bags thing. Things could have been considerably worse, too, because Robin could have tried to get him banned from teaching for the rest of his life for allowing a female student to live with him.

But ultimately Shoop sacrificed so much for the sake of helping a few of his students learn some lessons about life, since they didn’t all pass their exams. Is he a good teacher for that or was he just an idiot being taken advantage of by other idiots? Especially idiots who looked like this:

Being an idiot isn’t all that bad, so long as you’re not a total idiot.

https://youtu.be/8fvhchY0UmY

Hey, in the end, some of those kids passed their exams, and the most important of them all was Pam, because that meant she could move on and not try to make it so Shoop returned to jail. This guy went from being just a run-of-the-mill bro’s bro gym teacher to making an impact in the lives of some kids who looked like they were grown adults. Sure, he couldn’t even talk a 17-year old out of stripping, and he allowed some of his students to treat the foreign exchange student like a sex model, but Freddy Shoop probably learned more than anyone.

Also, he totally stole the douchebag Vice Principal’s girlfriend, and Wonder Mutt found Bobby again in the end, so this really was a movie with a beautiful and happy ending.

#Summer School (1987)#Freddy Shoop #Robin Bishop #Mark Harmon #Kirstie Alley

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burntcopper · 5 years

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(text below as it’s a premium article, more pictures and such at the link)

Mark Monahan, dance critic

7 MAY 2019 • 7:00AM

It is one of those volatile spring days where the weather can’t make up its mind, and I am in the studios at Three Mills Island, deep in the East End of London, watching rehearsals for Matthew Bourne’s brand-new production of Romeo and Juliet. To judge by the section of Prokofiev’s ever-astonishing score firing from the speakers, we are in the midst of the final, calamitous scene of Act II.

Tybalt staggers on, paralytically drunk. So far, so familiar to anyone who’s seen certain Tybalts in the Royal Ballet’s production – except that he is also clutching a revolver, which he brandishes at the terrified crowd of young onlookers. He then takes Mercutio and Balthasar hostage, forcing them, at gunpoint, to snog each other. As Bourne slyly tells me a little later, “I should say, it doesn’t follow the plot exactly – it is a Romeo and Juliet-type story We have got a couple of surprises up our sleeve…”

How could Bourne possibly not? After all, he is the dance-theatre supremo who, with his company Adventures in Motion Pictures (recast as New Adventures in 2002), has repeatedly put bold new spins on old works, often opening them up to entirely new audiences.

He is most famous for having redefined ballet at a stroke in 1995 by making all the waterfowl in his Swan Lake brazenly bare-chested men. But he also spiced up Carmen with a dash of The Postman Always Rings Twice and set the result in a steamy garage (The Car Man, 2000); transformed an obscure Sixties film, The Servant, into perhaps the other sexiest dance show so far this millennium (Play Without Words, 2002); and risked taking two adored, emphatically cinematic films – Edward Scissorhands and The Red Shoes – and putting them on stage (in 2005 and 2016). It was also Bourne who set Cinderella in Blitz-ravaged London (1997), thoroughly re-cracked The Nutcracker (1992) and sharpened up The Sleeping Beauty with vampires (2012). The fact that this master choreographer-producer and storyteller – already riding high with his superb current revival of Swan Lake – is now tackling the most stirring balletic tale of all makes this the single most eagerly awaited dance show of 2019.

“I think the key to the success of this company,” he tells me, “is that it brings in people who feel this is not something they’d normally understand, something they’re a bit scared of.”

So, besides the snippet of Act II that I catch, what sort of Romeo and Juliet can we expect when it launches in Leicester next week? The various New Adventures members I chat to prior to Bourne himself maintain an omertà-like silence about it, saying only that it’s set in an unspecified time in the near future, and reminding me that the show’s tag-line is “Imagine a time when love is forbidden …”.

Thankfully, the New Adventures grand vizier himself – remarkably affable and unstuffy in person – is a little more forthcoming. Designed (as usual with this company) by the terrific Lez Brotherston, the show, Bourne says, will be roughly two hours long, in three acts, but with just one interval, with the score rearranged (by Terry Davies) for a 15-strong live band. He also says that his scenario was “very vaguely” inspired by Anna Hope’s 2016 novel The Ballroom. Beyond that, however, Bourne is careful to tantalise rather than reveal, and this spirit of mystery extends to the show itself.

“We haven’t absolutely hit on a definite ‘this is it’ thing,” he says, “We think all these young people are in this institute. I want the audience to ask, ‘Why are they there? Is this to do with mental health? Is this a borstal? Is this a prison, a school? What is it? What’s going on? They’re obviously receiving some sort of medication. What it comes down to is that any excess of feeling is frowned upon and has to be, um…”

Quelled?

“Yes, quelled – good word! So, emotions are kept to a minimum, and they’re all young people who’ve been dumped there, because they’re trouble.”

Tybalt, Bourne explains, is now a corrupt guard. And, although there appears to be no Capulet family in this version, “we still get one set of parents, the Montagues, who bring Romeo there. We see him arrive, and they’re a bit like Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright in House of Cards, a political couple probably, and Romeo’s a bit of an embarrassment. He’s a bit like [the US President’s youngest child] Barron Trump, but a little bit older. He seems to have been locked away somewhere, bless him, poor boy.”

Bourne also hints that he, true to form, will not be holding back on the sensual side of things.

“I felt I could capture something that’s not in the ballet if we set it in a different time, something that was a bit more raw, a bit more like young people really are. I mean, when they get together, they go for it. They’re not thrilled by a kiss on the cheek – if they’re kissing, they’re kissing for hours.”

The regularity with which the word “young” comes up as we talk nods to another remarkable aspect of this new production. It marks the largest confluence to date of the two main strands of Bourne’s company: its fully professional performing side, and the charitable arm that aims to inspire young people to try their hand at dance. In practice, this means that a huge and heartening number of young people are involved in every aspect of the production which features two separate casts, each with their own set of star-crossed lovers.

It’s remarkable enough that two of the Juliets – Bryony Wood and Bryony Harrison – are just 19 and 21 respectively, and that one of the Romeos (Harrison Dowzell) is also 19. But many of the performers will be younger still.

A year or so ago, the company did a nationwide call-out for what they call the “local casts”. It whittled the 1,000-odd trainee dancers who applied down to 97, all aged 16-19, who will now be performing with the company. Throughout the 13-venue tour, New Adventures will be divided in half, with each half leapfrogging the other across the country. So, as one (dubbed the Capulets) starts performing in one town, the other (the Montagues) will begin a week’s pre-show rehearsal in the next. And waiting to join the company in every city, with the adrenalin doubtless pumping ferociously, will be six of those already-prepped youngsters. (The exception is the Leicester sextet, already involved in the London rehearsals.)

This, I suggest to the young-cast rehearsal director Paul Smethurst, looks like a project that could benefit British dance full-stop. “We have definitely found the next generation of star dancers,” he says. “And, we’ve found so many of them.”

What’s more, this youth drive extends to every aspect of the production. For example, young associate choreographer Arielle Smith is just 22. When she insists to me that Bourne often tells her, “Do what you want to do!”, and Smethurst, that “Arielle has a real voice and a real vision that she’s bringing to the piece”, I do privately wonder just how much trust the 59-year-old, Tony- and Olivier-garlanded Sir Matthew Bourne, OBE can really be putting in one so young. Then, minutes later – with Bourne coaching the principals across the corridor – there she is, working with dozens of corps members, and “holding” the room with complete command.

Now, these are, of course, gender-fluid times, especially in the eyes of the young. Besides which, Hackney-born Bourne (who these days lives in Islington with his partner, fellow choreographer Arthur Pita) has often toyed around with sexuality in his productions. Was he, I wonder, tempted to make his Romeo and Juliet a gay romance?

“Well,” he says, “I suppose years ago I may have gone with that. But, following on from Lord of the Flies [revived in 2014 with a largely teenage cast], which was all men, I didn’t feel this was the right time to go all male. So I thought, no, this is a chance to work with young people of both sexes.”

That said, Tybalt’s viciously enforced embrace does suggest that Bourne is up to plenty of gender-related mischief here.

“Oh, definitely, yes,” he confirms. “We wanted to have all life is here a little bit, especially with all the young people involved. I give them a bit of freedom with whatever sexuality they choose to be – how their character identified was important. For example, Mercutio’s got a boyfriend in this – that’s Balthasar. And there are a couple of girl characters who identify as gay, with one, Frenchy, who’s in love with Juliet.”

If anyone can get away with all this sort of thing, it is Bourne. His theatrical instincts have seldom let him down over the years (2008’s Dorian Gray the exception that proves the rule), and the brief section I see rehearsed – despite the absence of proper set, lighting, costumes and live music – is genuinely thrilling. What, I ask him, is the secret of his success? How has someone who didn’t even start dance training until he was 22 (at the Laban, in south-east London) made such a colossal mark on the dance world?

He credits his famous obsession with character – with giving every single person on stage a backstory and a purpose – with having collaborated on various non-New Adventures shows with “great directors” such as Trevor Nunn, John Caird, Sam Mendes and Richard Eyre. He also adds, “I think the key to the success is that I’m also quite reverential. I love the ballets, I love the scores, and I don’t want to mess with them too much. I want to honour the composers in a way that I feel is OK. And I want to tell a story to people.”

And want to get the audience involved?

“Yes,” he confirms. “And it just comes completely naturally to me. It’s not something I work at. I’ve never thought, ‘How do you get an audience on-side?’ It’s just completely the way I think about things, and I don’t see the point of it otherwise.”

Matthew Bourne’s Romeo + Juliet opens on May 13 at the Curve, Leicester, and tours the UK until October. Details and tickets: new-adventures.net

#romeo and juliet #matthew bourne

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lamptracker · 5 years

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Can we please get a Tom and Carly blurb? I feel like they're so left out; maybe the first time they spend the night together?

“Hey, um.”‘

Carly looked up at Tom, who was currently studying the tops of his shoes. “Yeah, Tom? What’s up?”

“You can say no if you want to - I mean, we’ve only been dating a few months by now, but - do... do you want to stay the night? Lily’s staying over at her friend Claire’s house tonight and it’ll be awfully quiet here without her.”

Carly giggled. “Afraid of the dark, Tommy?”

“No.” Tom stuck his tongue out at her and laughed.

“Tom,” Carly said, grasping his hands in both of hers, “I’d love to. Can we run by my place real quick, though? I have quite the bedtime routine, I need everything.”

“Routine?”

Carly sighed. “Take out contacts, wash my face, brush my teeth, put in my retainer - it’s super embarrassing, but I still have to wear a retainer at night - take my allergy meds... you’re sure you still want me to stay the night?”

“More than ever.” Tom leaned down and kissed her softly. “Wait, you still have to wear a retainer?”

“I didn’t get braces until college,” she said. “Just got them off a year ago. I wear the retainer at night, but hopefully only for a few more months.”

“I learn more about you all the time.” He smiled as he helped her off the couch. “Let’s get going.”

“Your bed is, just, really comfortable,” Carly said as she crawled under the covers. “Teachers don’t get paid very well, as you know, so I haven’t been able to afford a new bed in a long time.”

“That’s absolutely insane, how little you’re paid. Teachers are so important, you are setting our children up for the rest of their lives, how are you not-”

Carly suddenly leaned over and kissed him. “God, that’s the sexiest thing you could say to me.”

“That you should be paid what you’re worth?”

“Keep going.”

Tom laughed. “And that without teachers, society would fall apart.”

“God, I’m so horny right now.”

“And... what else, what else... I had the chance to teach architecture at the community college, and I really wanted to.”

“So what stopped you?”

Tom sighed. “It was the money, honestly. Lily was barely two, my wife had just died, I needed to be able to take care of my baby and pay for the funeral expenses. The firm offered me twice what the college did, I had to take it.”

“I get that.” Carly smiled, taking his hand. “You’re a good dad, Tom. You made the right decision for you and Lily. But, let me ask you this: if you had that opportunity again... would you take it?”

“Oh, in a heartbeat,” Tom replied. “Why, do you know someone?”

Carly laughed. “No, I was just curious.”

“Ah.” Tom sighed happily as he settled back against the pillow, pulling Carly into his side. “What about you? Do you want to stay at the high school level forever?”

Carly shrugged. “Maybe someday I’ll get into administration,” she said. “Maybe be a dean or a principal. I like where I’m at for now, though, I love the kids.”

“I love you,” Tom said softly.

“I love you too. Now, um.. I am still horny.”

“Right, right, we should fix that.”

#tom holland #single dad au #Anonymous

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loriannelawless · 5 years

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cute lunch period | foxri

fox makes lunch for them. they eat during their lunch period

Fox always looked forward to his lunch periods. It happened to fall on Lori's free period which meant he could have a date with her in the middle of the school day. He personally thought it made their relationship stronger. How many other couples could wake up together, drive to work together, share lunch, and then go home at the end of the day together? He had to reckon not too many. He'd prepared lunch for them: cooked rice, honey balsamic chicken with roasted vegetables, a section of mixed fruit and then mixed nuts and dark chocolate. He liked making little bento boxes for the two of them. He carried his drink and the lunch box he kept the food in and made his way to her classroom. When he saw her sitting at her desk he crept in the room slowly until he was behind her and wrapped an arm around her to press a kiss to her cheek. "Grading papers?" he asked playfully.

Lori glanced at the clock. She only had about five minutes before Fox would be in with their lunch, and she definitely didn't have enough time to finish the labs before he got there. She swore quietly under her breath, focusing on the papers in front of her. She didn't like being distracted when she was with him. It kind of ruined it. She grinned when she felt his arm around her, leaning a bit closer to him. "Labs, but yeah," she said with a smile. "How's your day going so far?" she asked, pushing the papers aside and making room for him to sit with her.

Fox let his head rest on her shoulder as he looked down at the papers in front of her. "Oh yeah? Sounds titillating," he grinned. He stayed in place for another moment, hugging her close against his body before reluctantly letting go. "It's going pretty well. I've got some kids really wanting to write political think pieces for the school paper. It's impressive. And the seniors just started Pride and Prejudice. I promised if they did well enough with the material I'd let them watch the movie with zombies instead of the Keira Knightley one or the Hugh Grant one," he laughed. He took a seat and took out their cute boxes from the lunch box and then took out her pineapple mango juice. "How are your students?"

Lori let out a small laugh and nodded. “Oh yeah. The most interesting it could be,” she said playfully. She leaned into him, turning her head back to kiss his cheek. She nodded along as he talked about his day. “Are political pieces allowed?” she asked curiously. She laughed and shook her head. “Bribing them with zombies. That’s hilarious,” she said with a smile. “Thank you,” she said as he took out their lunches, smiling to herself as she noticed the juice. “They’re good. My AP students have been asking some really insightful questions. I love it, but I don’t always have all the answers,” she admitted.

Fox grinned at her. He loved that he could see her during the work day like this. He loved seeing her do what she was passionate about even if he knew this wasn't the job she'd wanted. "Sure, as far as I'm concerned. I'm not going to censor them. Unless they're factually incorrect. I'll probably end up in a meeting with the principal, though," he admitted with a casual shrug. "Kids love the zombies," he winked. He popped open the lid to his box and nudged her slightly. "You? Not having all the answers? Impossible." She was definitely the smartest person he knew. "How do you deal with that?" he wondered. "If I don't have an answer I usually pull the whole, 'Let's look it up together!' card. They see right through it, though."

Lori thought that made sense. She just thought it might cause a stir. But if he was prepared to handle it, she wasn’t gonna say anything. “That’s probably a good call,” she said honestly. She laughed a bit and nodded. “Kids do love zombies. And movies,” she added. She opened the lunch box after he did. “Wow, fancy,” she winked at him. “Should I warm it up or will it be good cold?” she asked him curiously. She laughed a little and rolled her eyes. “Biology is a very vast subject. There’s too much for me to have learned all at once,” she said with a shrug. She felt like she knew a lot though. “I tell them I don’t know but I’ll look into it and get back to them,” she said honestly. “You sound like a fun teacher. I bet if I’d had you I wouldn’t have studied biology,” she teased.

Fox nodded slightly. He wasn't too worried. He'd just have to make sure they didn't go too controversial. He'd guide them but he'd let them write their pieces. "Kids love anything that gets them out of doing actual work for a class period," he chuckled. "Only the best for my lady," he teased. "It's pretty good cold, actually, though better warmed up. I probably won't heat mine up, though." He took a bite of his and winked at her. That made sense, he thought. He felt like science was always changing anyway. "Well, fair enough. I bet students love stumping you. Might make you less intimidating," he teased. He let out a laugh and shook his head. "It's just nice to make learning fun. Plus, I love English. I bet you still would have studied biology. If I'd had you as a teacher I probably would have failed your class just so I could take it again."

Lori laughed and nodded. That was true. It wasn’t that long ago that they were students and it was true for them, too. “That’s very true,” she laughed. She grinned. “You’re cute,” she said honestly. She nodded a bit. “I’ll eat it cold then,” she decided, getting a bite. “Mm, this is amazing,” she said. She made a face at him and laughed. “I’m not anymore intimidating than anyone else!” she exclaimed. She nodded. She did her best, especially with the freshmen. “Yeah, it really is. Nah, I would’ve found a passion in the class if you were my teacher,” she said with a wink. She laughed harder, shoving him gently. “Shut up you would not,” she teased. She sat up a little when she heard a knock on her door and her student came in. “Hi Miss. Lawless, Mr. Dawson, sorry to interrupt. I realized the last page from my lab was stuck in my binder. I just wanted to her it turned in,” she said with a sly smile, handing her the paper. “Thanks for bringing it in so promptly. I’ll put it with the rest of your papers,” Lori smiled.

Fox let out a laugh at that. "I know," he teased. He watched her try a bite of the food and smiled when she liked it. "It's a new recipe. I thought you might enjoy it," he admitted. He gave her a look as he took a sip of his sparkling water. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? Add that to how intelligent you are and you're clearly the sexiest woman on the planet," he told her simply. He wasn't so sure about that. "Maybe but you love biology. English might have been your second favorite, though." He gave her a lopsided grin. "I absolutely would have. And asked for extra tutoring on the side," he teased her. He looked over as a student came in and grinned at the girl. "You never bring your late work to my class during free periods. See, Lor? You're clearly the more superior teacher."

Lori nodded with a small smile. “You know me well,” she said before taking another bite. She took a small sip of her drink, giving him a perplexed look. “You’re just saying that because you wanna get laid tonight,” she teased. She shrugged as she took another bite. “I do really like biology,” she said honestly. “Second favorite is good too though,” she said playfully. She nudged his leg under the table. “You’re ridiculous,” she laughed. “I much prefer is both being teachers,” she added. She couldn’t kiss him otherwise. The student snickered quietly when he called her Lor. “She’s stricter than you,” she said with a shrug. “Alright, back to lunch now,” Lori said with a gentle smile. “I’m not superior,” she said, laughing a little as the girl left. “You’re such a kissass.”

Fox chuckled quietly. "I would never try to butter you up just to get laid," he grinned. He took a few bites of his food and followed it up with a sip of his drink. "You'd get bored of English I think. I'll settle for it being your second favorite in this alternate universe but only because I'd be your favorite teacher. Though, you're right. Us both being adults is pretty important to our relationship," he laughed. He shook his head a bit. "I guess I'll have to be more strict. Thanks for the tip. I'll see you in class tomorrow with your homework," he joked to the student. He watched her leave before laughing at Lori. "Can't I compliment my beautiful girlfriend? I bring you lunch and I'm not allowed to say nice things to you?" he teased.

Lori laughed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you for a second. But your buttering might be working,” she teased. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you calling English boring?” She laughed. “Yeah, kind of an important part,” she said playfully. She took another bite of chicken before eating some chocolate. “Of course you can. But you’re still a kissass and I’m not the superior teacher!” she laughed. “I bet you anything she comes in tomorrow with everything ready to turn in on time,” she laughed a little. “Did I tell you I got Evie set up with a job here in the city?”

Fox shot her a playful wink. "Then I must be doing something right. It's too bad we have so many hours left of the work day," he joked. He shook his head. "Absolutely not. It's the best subject of all in my opinion. Biology is in your opinion. Tell me you wouldn't get tired of teaching old books to students when you could be discovering something new and exciting in your field? It's just a matter of preference," he shrugged. He grinned at her before kissing her cheek. "Okay, we're both the best teachers in the school, how's that sound?" he said playfully. "She'd better. I might have to deduct points if she doesn't." He thought for a moment, taking a piece of fruit. "Evie, your friend from high school? No, I don't think you did."

Lori smirked a little and laughed. "I know. What a chore. At least it's Friday," she said honestly, still smiling at him. She made a face and a noise to match it. "I would hate teaching old books all day. But I'm not exactly discovering something new and exciting doing this job, either," she said, only a touch of bitterness in her tone. She pretended to think for a moment before she nodded. "I think I can agree to that. Though I hear the AP Spanish teacher is a blast," she teased. She laughed and picked up some fruit. She nodded a bit, leaning back a little. "Yeah, that one. The one who dated Foster. I haven't told him yet, which I probably should have," she admitted.

Fox lifted his drink in a sort of cheers to that. "I need a weekend," he admitted with a smile. Her reaction had him chuckling to himself. "They're good books," he defended. "But you would hate it." He reached out to rub her arm gently and gave her a smile. "Yeah but we both know you will be some day soon," he promised. He rolled his eyes playfully at her. "Fine, we can be the second best teachers after the AP Spanish," he joked. He mulled over that for a moment, eating some nuts. "I mean, yeah. I think he'd appreciate knowing," he admitted. "Do I get to meet her at some point?"

Lori did the same, smiling fondly. He made her very happy. "Amen to that," she teased. "I mean, I'm not denying that. I wouldn't be against reading a book, or even talking about it. But all the analysis and the essays, and oh my god, you have to read all the essays that every single kid reads. You like it right now, but by the fifth year of reading the same essays, what are you gonna do?" she asked seriously. That felt like it'd get boring. So would grading biology, though. She didn't think she'd be here in five years, though. Or she hoped, anyway. "Right, soon," she said with a small sigh, taking a drink. "Second best is pretty good," she grinned. She knew he deserved to know. And she was going to tell him. It wasn't like he'd be mad, it'd just, maybe be a little weird. But it wasn't like they had an ugly break up or anything. "Yeah, of course. I was thinking maybe we can meet her at the bar Saturday? And maybe if we tell Foster tonight, he can come too."

Fox considered that. He didn't think it would bother him all that much. He liked seeing how his students interpreted the works they were reading. "I mean, it's not like I'm required to teach the exact same books every single year," he told her. "I like what I do but I always wanted to be a teacher. It wasn't your first choice, though, and that's okay." He rubbed her arm again before turning back to his food. He really thought she'd be moving up in her field before she knew it. "I have faith in you," he promised. He thought about the work he had to do and the papers he wanted to grade but decided he could go out on Saturday. "Sure, that sounds like a good plan. Do you think everything will work out well?" he wondered.

Lori figured that was fair, but she was also pretty sure he had a limited number of books he could pick from. "That's fair," she said with a shrug. She thought it was so interesting that he'd always wanted to be a teacher. She couldn't imagine. But it was noble of him and all. "I'm glad you like it," she said with a genuine smile. "Well someone should," she said playfully. She wasn't sure he actually liked the plan, but he didn't have to go, and if he did they didn't have to stay out late. "I hope so. Otherwise it'll be really weird."

Fox did really like teaching. It was his passion. He loved seeing students get interested in the great works that had fascinated him in high school. He really felt like English was an important subject in figuring out who you were as a person. He liked being able to help them discover that. "I'll always have faith in you, Lor," he promised her. He let out a quiet chuckle. "Yeah, it will be pretty weird," he agreed. "They're adults, though. I'm sure it'll be fine. If not, we divide and conquer."

Lori knew that was true, but she still wasn't sure she did. "Yeah, you're right. They're adults. Surely they won't let a breakup from high school stop them from being friends if they could be friends, right?" she asked. Unless they just, didn't wanna be friends. She hoped that wouldn't happen. "I'm sure we can figure something out," she added.

Fox shrugged slightly. He couldn't imagine it but then again, he'd never dated anyone in high school. He hadn't even had many friends; he could count them on one hand. "I don't harbor any ill feelings to people from high school. It was so long ago. I can't imagine not wanting to at least catch up with someone that was part of my life at that time," he told her. Then again, he didn't know Evie. "And I'm sure Foster won't be an ass or anything."

Lori nodded in agreement. She felt that way, too. It wasn't like anything bad happened between them, anyway, and it was seven years ago. So much had happened since then. "Me neither. It was a long time ago. I'm just glad that that part of my life is over with," she admitted with a laugh. "Nah, I can't imagine he would," she agreed. She took the last bite of her chicken as the bell rang. "Ah, back to work. I'll miss you," she smiled.

Fox was glad too. He hadn't hated high school. If he had, he doubted he would have chosen to teach it. He just hadn't loved it. It had been more of a transition period in his life. "It feels like a different lifetime," he admitted. "I'm sure it'll all work out." He really hoped it did, for her sake. He groaned when the bell rang and closed up his box. "I need to start remembering to set a timer so I can beat the class back to the room," he admitted. He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I'll see you after school, Miss Lawless."

Lori agreed with that too. She'd done a lot of growing up during college. She felt like a different person than who she was back in high school sometimes. "I'm sure," she said. A small smile spread on her lips. "I'm sure you will. They like to take their time, anyway," she said with a grin. She leaned in, kissing him back, a smile on her lips when he pulled away. "I'll see you after school, Mr. Dawson," she said playfully as he left.

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sibbuttnunne1976-blog · 5 years

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Even normally gentle products would sting like the devil, and I never questioned it because I honestly thought that's how it was supposed to work. I'd fry the life out of my skin until I couldn't handle it (so like 3 4 straight days of all this), then take a break for a week, maybe less, and then I'd start all over again. It was a roller coaster, let me tell you, and I did this for years.. Make sure you get payed before you kill Izaro the last time. Otherwise you get scammed around 50% of the time. I believe my friend takes the offering up front, and then the 3 chaos before the last bossroom. You could hear a pin drop and then suddenly all at once the entire board clicked their pens on the "Approved Box" and I was instantly handed a diploma and now I teaching advanced physicals there. I guess you can say I pretty smart. :). Assuming it really is natural change or a medical side effect, I feel for her. I was relatively thin in high school but have gained quite a bit of weight in my college years and it very apparent in my face. I notice it every time I look at every picture and I think I would cry if I had thousands of people pointing it out too.. Bringing it back to Laura Lee, I feel like she doesn't genuinely understand why what she did is racist, and why her apology shows tone deafness regarding specific issues around race. She just knows she did a Bad Thing, which is using a bad word like there's a naughty racist checklist. But there's no real discussion around what it principally demonstrated, what it means for the beauty community that shitty ideas like this have persisted so publically so recently, and examining how it's affected poc and their feelings in the beauty space (the industry is only just starting to cater for women poc more seriously recently this must feel so shitty for them but somehow this doesn't feature in the discussion).. It breaks my heart that you are so self conscious about them. :( I understand why completely and I feel for you. But I a firm believer in what makes you unique makes you beautiful, and sometimes embracing what different about ourselves and exuding confidence can be the sexiest thing of all. "It may be predestination," suggested Anne, with unearthly solemnity."That is what I have often thought, Mrs. Doctor, dear, and a great comfort it is. I do not mind nobody wanting me if the Almighty decreed it so for His own wise purposes. I also discovered Tarte Lights, Camera, Lashes and it may be better than my Too Faced BTS. Oh and Too Faced Chocolate bronzer is amazing, I actually almost panned it. I discovered I love Tarte rewards program on their 수원출장샵 website and the tartiest original matte lip paints. Had he gotten in trouble for acting like a leader when that was currently his dad position or for not consulting the older Serpents before acting against Penny, I wouldn be complaining about it. I don think he should get away without some criticism for acting rashly and creating a scenario which ultimately nearly got him killed and 수원출장샵 his with the Serpents dismantled by Penny lust for revenge which followed. Nor do I think he should get away without someone going "dude, that not you, that not the kind of person you are, you need to check yourself before you wreck yourself." It super specifically people acting as if Penny were totally innocent and attacked no reason and people acting as if what Jug did was sexist which bother me.

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thedatasciencehyderabad · 3 years

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17 Prime Data Science Purposes & Examples You Need To Know 2021

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The term was first used in 1960 by Peter Naur, who was a pioneer in laptop science. He described the foundational aspects of the methods and approaches used in data science in his 1974 book, Concise Survey of Computer Methods. [newline]There are many instruments out there for Data Scientists to make use of to govern and research huge portions of knowledge, and it's important to at all times evaluate their effectiveness and maintain attempting new ones as they become out there. Data scientists must depend on experience and intuition to decide which strategies will work greatest for modeling their data, and they should modify those methods constantly to hone in on the insights they seek. Data science plays an important role in safety and fraud detection, as the end result of the large quantities of information allows for drilling down to search out slight irregularities in knowledge that can expose weaknesses in safety methods. Delivery companies, freight carriers and logistics providers use Data Science to optimize supply routes and schedules, in addition to one of the best modes of transport for shipments.

Whereas knowledge analytics is primarily centered on understanding datasets and gleaning insights that can become actions, Data Science is centered on building, cleaning, and organizing datasets. Data scientists create and leverage algorithms, statistical fashions, and their own customized analyses to collect and form uncooked information into something that can be more simply understood. Some of the key variations however, are that data analysts sometimes usually are not laptop programmers, nor answerable for statistical modeling, machine learning, and lots of the other steps outlined within the Data Science process above. Many statisticians, together with Nate Silver, have argued that Data Science isn't a model new field, but quite another name for statistics. Others argue that data science is distinct from statistics as an end result of it focuses on problems and methods unique to digital knowledge. Vasant Dhar writes that statistics emphasizes quantitative knowledge and description.

They handle knowledge pipelines and infrastructure to transform and transfer data to respective Data Scientists to work on. They majorly work with Java, Scala, MongoDB, Cassandra DB, and Apache Hadoop. This web site makes use of cookies to improve your experience when you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are saved in your browser as they are essential for the working of primary functionalities of the internet site.

Yet, to harness the power of huge knowledge, it isn’t necessary to be a data scientist. Hopefully this article has helped demystify the info scientist position and other associated roles. More and more today, Data Scientists should be capable of utilizing instruments and technologies associated with huge amounts of information as nicely. Some of the most well-liked examples include Hadoop, Spark, Kafka, Hive, Pig, Drill, Presto, and Mahout.

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stydiasecretsanta · 6 years

Text

All I Want

Merry Christmas, @araniaexumae!

By the time Stiles gets home from the store, Lydia has woken up from her nap. She’s lying in the center of their bed, huddled against his pillow, petting the dog and watching makeup tutorials on her phone. For a moment, he hovers in the doorway, enjoying the sight of her face totally relaxed. It’s not like this usually. She’s usually tense and anxious and he has to kiss the worry of the day off of her lips. But right now, alone in their bed, she’s calm.

He totally hates to ruin it.

“Hey, I brought you soup,” Stiles says, knocking on the doorframe. Luke looks up in excitement before leaping off of the bed, running at Stiles, and then waiting for his single cursory pat before hopping right back onto the bed with Lydia. “Matzo ball. Plus chicken.”

“I told you I don’t want to eat anything.” Her voice is irked to disguise the annoyance that he knows she’s feeling at herself, not at him. She’s sick, she’s exhausted, she’s been nauseous for days, and now they have to go to dinner with her dad and the rest of his family, all of whom, by the way, Stiles and Lydia hate.

Ignoring her words, he sits on the bed next to her and pops the lid off the soup. The scent of the chicken broth fills the room, and he sees Lydia’s disgust even before she reaches for the trash bag at the side of the bed and throws up into it.

Stiles rubs her back through it, feeling very much like he would enjoy grabbing his baseball bat and murdering whatever little shit at Stanford gave Lydia this virus.

“If I’d known you were gonna get sick, like, once a year, I’d’ve told you to go into a safer profession than one that involves teaching.”

“Like what?” asks Lydia wryly. “The FBI?”

“Point taken.”

He caps the soup, puts it on her bedside table, and then sighs and wraps his body all the way around hers, pulling her into his warmth. On the bed beside her, the youtuber on her phone continues to gab on about contouring, and Stiles hates that he totally knows what that is.

“The nap helped, I promise.”

“You just threw up.”

“It’s just a virus.”

“Lydia.”

“Yes?”

“Lydia.”

“Mhm.”

“We have to cancel on your dad.”

She lets out a groan, turning around so that she’s facing him. The bags under her pleading eyes are deeper than usual, he notes, and his knee jerk response is to run his fingers through her hair, trying to give her some sort of comfort amid the exhaustion.

“No.”

“But wh—?”

“Because if we skip the Christmas Eve party, we’re going to have to go to an even more uncomfortable, more intimate sit-down-dinner when I’m feeling better, and we are going to desperately miss the twenty-or-so buffers that constantly get between us and conversation with my insipid step-mother.”

Though she has a point, there’s no effing way he’s conceding.

“Babe.”

“What, Stiles.”

“Listen, you know that I think you’re just like… the sexiest, most beautiful, most perfect woman in the world, right?”

“Right…”

“But, currently, you look like the Ghost of Christmas Past.” She snorts out a laugh into his chest, hiding her face in the George Washington hoodie as she giggles. He warms instantly. “And it’s really, really cool to be married to a banshee, but… I don’t want to be married to a specter of some sort.”

“Not even the sexiest, most beautiful, most perfect specter in the world?” Lydia teases.

“Not even the smartest, sexiest, most beautiful, most perfect specter in the world,” says Stiles firmly. “Now, please, let’s stay home and just like… eat chicken broth and dry toast and watch bad TV until you feel better.” He smoothes her hair away from her sweaty temple. “Let me take care of you.”

Lydia’s voice lowers into a taunting purr.

“Somehow you saying that to me is even more sensual when I have vomit breath.”

He winks at her, and Lydia’s cold foot nudges up against his, her small toes sliding up and down his leg.

“Seriously,” replies Stiles, matching her demure tone. He kisses her nose once, then twice, and lowers his lips to her ear. “You look pallid, babe.”

Lydia hits him with a pillow, which he probably deserves, to be honest. Luke doesn’t even come to his defense; just stares at the two of them with casual interest as Stiles wrestles the pillow away from Lydia, kissing her neck where it tickles to get her to loosen her grip. They eventually stop when Lydia accidentally knees him in the stomach and is barely able to apologize through gales of laughter.

“Anyways,” she says once she can breathe again. “We’re still going. Get up, get dressed.”

“And what if I refuse?”

“Then I’m going without you,” she tells him sweetly. “And, following that, you get to spend the whole night worrying about whether or not I fell asleep at the wheel while I was driving because you let your sick, sick wife go out on her own on Christmas eve.”

“Right, okay, and what time did you want to be on the road?”

“Six-thirty would be great.”

“Fantastic,” he replies, only a little cuttingly sarcastic, which Stiles would count as a win.

“I love you!” Lydia calls after him as she steps into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take a shower.

“You better!” he calls back, then turns to Luke with very serious eyes. “I brought her soup.”

They get the same look every time they tell someone how long they’ve been together— one of blank shock, confusion, and surprise.

“Twelve?” the other person will say, aghast. “Twelve years?”

Stiles always notices Lydia holding back a cutting “no, days, sweetheart” when she gets too offended by the look of incredulity. He’s never asked what bothers her about it so much, mostly because it’s more fun to come up with a list of reasons why Lydia could conceivably be pissed off.

Number one is, of course, that she’s offended because people think marrying your high school sweetheart is a stupid idea and that she’d walked into a world of heartache. Which Stiles totally gets, because that pisses him off too. It’s weird to see the judgement in people’s eyes and to not be able to describe the path that had gotten them here. He knows people’s marriages fail when they get married too young, he knows that— and, in fact, Lydia knows that better than anybody. But they aren’t just two random high school sweethearts; they’ve gone to battle for each other time and time again. It’s so much more than first love, and not being able to explain that can make Stiles crazy sometimes, despite the fact that Lydia is, and always will be, his first love. It’s not like they’re wrong. They’re just not right.

The second reason why Lydia might be pissed off by this reaction is that she knows the other person thinks she’s too good for Stiles. In college, this concept would have been his personal nightmare. Now, six years into marriage, it’s a point of pride, and he always tries to tell if the person is wondering why she’s been with him for twelve years— him over anyone else. He’s told her she can combat this concept by raving about what a good cook he is, which Lydia usually scoffs at and tells him she’d actually married him “so I could rule your small principality.” Stiles almost always asks if that’s a dick joke and promptly gets a loud groan of protest at his sense of humor. Then she kisses him and tells him that she’d married him because he’s her favorite thing in the world, which she tells him a lot. He’s come to take it as the “I love you” that it is, because if Lydia likes him more than she likes math, he’s in for life.

Number three is that Lydia is so hot that other people expect her to have been in multiple marriages by the time she’s thirty, but the joke’s on them, because Stiles Stilinski latches on like a suction cup to a flat, non-porous surface. If she has a second husband, it’ll be him with a moustache.

But the fourth and final reason that Stiles suspects Lydia gets so mad about people’s surprise about their relationship is that her mind flashes, immediately, to her parents. She thinks about the way they had fallen apart and she’d had to watch; thinks about the irresponsibility she feels their bad decisions had created. And he knows, in some ways, that she respects them less for it— for the way they’d come together, the way they’d fallen apart, the way they hadn’t really appeared to try. Lydia doesn’t want to be compared to her parents. She doesn’t want their marriage compared to her parents’ relationship. And, god, neither does he.

He thinks that the fourth reason is probably the truest, and it hits the hardest because Lydia, in part, agrees with it. A small part of her will always be waiting for the switch to flp, no matter how much she trusts him with her heart. It’s one of the things he’d had to learn to accept about her. But it’s also something that Lydia has struggled to accept about herself. So when someone offers them the “twelve years?” with a look that would suggest they had been recently struck on the back of the head by an anvil, Stiles is usually the one who steps in and responds.

“Yeah, our relationship’s a sixth grader,” he’s started joking this past year. “We had to give it the sex talk. It was super awkward.”

“But… that means you were together in middle school, right?” the girl asks, doing the math in her head.

“High school,” Lydia says, way too sweetly. This girl’s gonna wake up with the head of a horse in her bed tonight if this conversation goes on for much longer.

“And she was my best student,” adds Stiles, voice fond.

Her date chokes on his drink, and Stiles crosses that particular space off of his mental “shitty person bingo” board for tonight.

“Excuse us.” Lydia pulls him by the sleeve over to the food table, the crowd by which has thinned out a little since the party had started. “Could you stop torturing the friends of my step-siblings?”

“Why?”

She considers this for a moment.

“Um.”

Stiles grins smugly.

“I’m gonna win this one, I can feel it.”

“You’re not, I’m going to…” She trails off, trying to come up with a reason still, and Stiles grows even more cheery.

“God, not only can I feel it, I can taste it. Actually, come to think of it, it tastes like your c—”

“Lydia!”

They startle as Lydia’s step-mother’s voice loudly pierces through the crowd. She emerges, platinum blonde hair staying perfectly in place as she moves through the room towards them. She’s only five years younger than Lydia’s mom, through her nose is at least forty years younger, which Lydia had noted to Stiles with the spiteful mirth that could only be held by someone who truly hates her stepmother.

“Ellen!” she replies, matching the older woman’s tone in a way that sounds genuine, but Stiles knows to be mocking.

Seriously, Lydia is savage tonight. If she’s not careful, she’s going to forget to be rude like a wasp and actually become a bitch. Which, honestly, Stiles would love to see, but he doesn’t think Lydia would appreciate tomorrow morning.

“I saw you were talking to Yvonne!” says Ellen, after kissing Lydia on both cheeks like she’s from Europe. Stiles can confirm, with great certainty, that she is not from Europe. “Did you discuss her studies? She’s in a delightful master’s program for English literature, just like the one you teach, Lydia!”

He feels his wife twitching in annoyance next to him and, once again, diverts the conversation smoothly.

“We actually got sidetracked. She asked us how long we had been together and we got to brag about the fact that our relationship is old enough to have menses.”

The glass that Lydia’s holding clatters to the ground. At first Stiles thinks it’s because what he’d said was crude because, yeah, let’s be honest, that was pushing the limit. But then he sees the look on her face and he knows, he just knows, without her having to say anything. It’s the same look of shock she had given him when she had fallen out of the trap and into his arms back in high school. She looks just as windswept and overwhelmed as she had that day, with her eyes wide, her lips parted in astonishment.

“Stiles,” she whispers. He doesn’t need her to say anything else, just grabs her by the wrist and tugs her towards the bathroom at the corner of the house. There’s a line, a long one, so Stiles tightens his grip and pulls a heavily breathing Lydia up the stairs. They finally break onto the landing and he spots a bathroom, ushering Lydia into it.

“When was the last time you—?”

“I don’t know,” she replies, a little hysterically. “I… I can’t think, I don’t…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” His arms are around her in seconds, squeezing her tight, and she hugs him back. “It would explain the throwing up, wouldn’t it?” And the exhaustion.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “It would.”

“Have you been coughing and sneezing at all? Sniffling?”

He feels her shake her head against his chest, rubbing across his fancy shirt, and he squeezes her a bit tighter, a reflex.

Lydia pulls away and looks up at him, her expression moving from despondent to determined in mere moments. She backs out of his arms, ending up on her knees on the floor, searching through the drawers. When she finds nothing there, she pokes around the cabinets, letting out a sigh of relief once she finally emerges with a purple and white box.

Lydia stands up, brandishing a pregnancy test towards Stiles as if she’s challenging him to stop her.

“I’m just going to do it.”

“There’s no way I’m gonna stop you, Lydia.”

He sits on the edge of the shower, foot tapping anxiously as Lydia pees on the stick. They’re silent at first, waiting for the three minutes to pass, neither of them able to make eye contact with each other. Lydia has closed the toilet lid and is sitting on top of it in her fancy party dress, which shimmers far more than her empty eyes. He thinks that maybe she’s trying to keep her mind blank, so that there aren’t any expectations floating around in her brain.

“If it is positive,” she says eventually, surprising him. “I’m at least six weeks. Because that’s when morning sickness starts.”

“How do you know?”

She looks over at him sarcastically.

“I read.”

The timer on his phone goes off before he can retort, and Lydia snatches at the stick, her hand shaking. She stares at it too long, sweeping her eyes across it over and over again, and just when Stiles is about to jump out of his skin, Lydia turns the stick around to face him, showing him the purple plus sign that sits there.

“Oh my god.”

“Yes,” she agrees.

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

“You’re gonna have a baby.”

That’s when a smile breaks out across Lydia’s cheeks. She sets down the stick and leans forward, framing his face in her hands, tracing her thumbs up and down his cheekbones.

“I’m having your baby,” she murmurs, kissing his forehead. “I’m having your baby, Stiles.”

He doesn’t mean to start crying, but he’s not sure if either of them expected anything less. Lydia rubs her hand across his back, just as he had for her earlier today. She pulls him up, standing on her tiptoes so that she can wipe away his tears.

Her palm sweeps lower, and Stiles catches it, kissing the heel of her hand, the center of her palm, the side of her thumb.

“I love you,” he says into her wrist, feeling it so fiercely that it feels like he’s being shredded into pieces. “And I’m gonna love this kid so much. I swear to you, Lydia, I promise you, I will never, ever—”

“I know, I know,” she says urgently, cutting him off. Her eyes are so soft, looking up at him. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know.”

To prove it, Lydia kisses his lips gently, affectionate. He slides his hands around her waist when she tries to pull away, dropping several featherlight kisses against her lips. When he finally stops, it’s only because he feels the desperate, pressing need to make her laugh.

“Shit, this kid’s gonna be such an asshole. Maybe we should just give it to Scott and take one of his and then we’ll have two evenly balanced humans.”

Lydia laughs, wrapping Stiles’ hand in hers.

“Do you really think Scott’s goodness is enough to combat both our genes?”

Stiles frowns, considering.

“It’ll be close.” She shakes her head, a little disbelieving. “Do we have to get back out there?”

“No,” replies Lydia firmly. “Not tonight. We have more important things to do.”

It’s almost midnight when they finally arrive. Stiles rushes around the car to help Lydia out, tugging his hat lower over her ears so that she isn’t cold. Her curls had been matted down by flakes of snow when they had dashed to the car, so she hadn’t argued when he had shoved the tight knit cap over her head. It’s one of the first ones Melissa ever made— he can see her hair through the holes in the couch.

Despite the snow and her high heels, Lydia moves to the door with great ease, her fingers clutching Stiles’ arm for comfort, not balance. She’s flushed pink from either the cold or excitement, and before they ring the doorbell, Stiles smacks a loud, wet kiss on her cheek.

She’s beaming up at him still when the door swings open, bathing the two of them in brilliant yellow light.

“Dad,” Stiles says, wrenching his eyes away from Lydia and turning towards his father. The sheriff is standing there wearing pajamas and a confused expression. “We have something to tell you.”

“Do you want to co—?”

“I’m pregnant,” Lydia blurts out.

The sheriff’s mouth snaps closed. Stiles watches him, watches as he blinks a few times in surprise. Watches as his eyes slowly fill with tears.

“You’re pregnant?”

“You’re gonna be a grandpa,” says Stiles, voice cracking. His dad’s arms are tight around him a second later, slapping his back over and over again as they hug. “Are you happy?”

“Kid,” says his dad, pulling away, his hands on Stiles’ shoulders. “I couldn’t be happier.”

When he pulls away, he yanks Lydia into the house before hugging her as well, squeezing her tight.

“Gotta get you warm. You got my grandkid in there.”

Stiles watches them hug, watches Lydia tucked under the his father’s arm, snow in her hair and her eyelashes. She’s grinning, seeming so light and airy, and Stiles doesn’t have words to describe how euphoric this is, every bit of it.

“You were about to go to sleep,” realizes Lydia, finally noticing the sheriff’s pajama bottoms.

“Oh, I can’t sleep now,” he says, brushing it off immediately. “Anybody want hot chocolate?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, turning around and walking into the kitchen, whistling as he goes.

“And you?” Lydia asks, turning to face Stiles, all business. “Are you happy?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Lydia, I’m…” He trails off, searching for the words, not sure if he’s going to be able to find them. “When you took my last name six years ago, I… I finally felt like I was building something again. Like there had been this enormous thing missing in my life and I hadn’t even realized what it was until you… you… “ He stops, grabbing her other hand too. “I’ve never not had family. I know that. I’ve always had my dad, had Scott, had Melissa, had our stupid pack. And even when we were dating, you were family to me. We didn’t have to be married, you didn’t have to take my last name, for that to be real. But you did.”

“Of course I did,” she says sweetly. “When I married you I got your family too, you know.” She smiles, looking up at him. “And I got the best family I could ever ask for.”

“You never felt like you were getting something too damaged to be repaired?”

She shakes her head, so serious that Stiles can feel it all the way down to his toes.

“Did you?” she asks pointedly.

“No.”

“So, no,” Lydia agrees. “Not once. You and your dad, you’ve always been… so much more than enough. This life we have? It’s so important to me.”

Now that they’ve started talking, he wants to monologue about it. He needs her to know everything this means to him.

“When my mom died, I guess it kinda felt like I was never gonna have this again— like, this unit of people who are mine. And now, not only did you marry me, not only do you take care of me every day, and let me take care of you, and love my dad so fucking much, and hold me when I need it, and make me laugh, and watch shitty movies with me. Not only do you do all that, you’re giving me… Lydia, you’re giving me this thing that’s a part of us. A part of me. You’re giving me family.” He bends down to kiss her one more time before he finishes speaking. “Every day, I swear to god, I’m a little more yours, Lyds.”

Tightly gripping his collar, Lydia nuzzles her nose against his. Inexplicably, he feels invincible.

“I’m yours too.”

“Lydia!” shouts the sheriff from the kitchen. “One marshmallow or two?”

“Two,” she calls back. “We have some planning to do.”

“Why’s that?” asks Stiles, bemused.

“Because,” Lydia replies, a twinkle in her eye. “We have to come up with a way to tell Scott that he’s going to be an uncle.”

#araniaexumae #stydia #stydia secret santa #stydiaedit #stydia fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #fic #fics #fanfiction #gifts #presents 2017

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n3rdybird · 7 years

Text

Like Fathers, Like Son

Sons of Anarchy

Reader x Chibs/Tig x Venus Family fluff.

Growing up SAMCRO, you knew the club was family, albeit sometimes dysfunctional family.

Even when a fling with Alexander “Tig” Trager ended up with you knocked up, your dysfunctional family stepped up in every way they could.

Tig was a great father. No one would have pegged him to be excited to be a dad again, and at first he didn’t know what he felt. But the day he found out he was going to have a son was one of the happiest days of his life. That moment was trumped only when Leonard Trager-(Y/L/N) came wailing into the world. He had the same wild dark hair as his dad, and your eyes.

Co-parenting with Tig had its ups and downs, but you made it work. Although you were now parents, you both decided staying friends and focusing on your son was the best plan of action. Besides, a copious amount of alcohol and one night stand doesn’t make a functioning relationship.

Gemma was an amazing help especially since your own mother had died when you were younger. Leo also had a multitude of uncles to help out and spoil the newest “member” of SAMCRO. Each one of the men kept a close eye on you and Leo.

Especially a certain sexy Scotsmen. Filip ‘Chibs’ Telford. He was always quick to help when Tig wasn’t available, running errands and generally just being there for you and your son. It was only a matter of time before the late night conversations led to feelings of the romantic kind.

When the two of you grew closer, Tig watched with a smile on his face. It was clear that Chibs was falling for you and vice versa. He was quick to give his blessing to his baby mama and long term friend.

*********

You were having coffee with Venus when your cellphone rang.

You answered with a smile, in the middle of laughing about something Venus was telling you.

Within seconds, your smile disappeared as you listened to the voice on the other end of the conversation. Venus picked up on your mood change, her face mirroring yours in concern.

You hung up the phone and rubbed the bridge of your nose with a sigh.

“What’s wrong hun?” Venus asked.

“That was the school. Leo was in an “altercation”,” you said mimicking the principal’s words.

Venus gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

“No way, not our Leo,” she said in disbelief.

You shook your head, also having a hard time believing it. Regardless of who he grew up with, Leo had never been in a fight before.

“Either way, I have to go to the school. Can you call Tig and Filip while I drive?”

Venus smiled and nodded.

“Of course hun, whatever you need.”

She gave you a hug, and the two of you tossed your coffee cups on the way to your car.

**********

Two voice mails later, the two of you entered Leo’s elementary school main office.

Leo was sitting on a bench alone, kicking his legs. He looked up to see you and his Auntie Venus. You gave your son a smile to show you weren’t angry, and Venus flitted to her nephew, fussing over him. She brushed his hair away from his face, checking for bruises or cuts.

Unlike the bruised and bloodied boy sitting across the hall, Leo was relatively unscathed. The only signs of him being in a fight was his red eyes and slightly red knuckles.

Venus sat next to Leo and you knelt in front of him, kissing his forehead.

“Hey baby, what happened?” you asked softly.

“What happened is your unruly monster attacked my poor Donnie,” a woman snarled as she stalked up to her son. She pulled out a handful of tissues, dabbing at her son’s broken nose.

“Monster-” you started, your rage starting to boil, but Venus put her hand on your arm to keep from snapping at the Stepford PTA mom. Brenda Decker was the same uptight hag from high school.

The door next to them opened, and Principal Carter waved the parents into his office. He looked to you and tilted his head in confusion.

“Will Mr. Trager be joining us?”

“I’ve called both Filip and Alex, but they are working. This is Venus Van Dam. She’s one of Leo’s emergency contacts.”

He nodded and sat down at his desk, gesturing for the rest of the group to follow suit. When they settled, Principal Carter steepled his fingers.

“Leonard and Donnie were involved in an altercation this afternoon. Both have refused to say what caused the fight.”

“There is no way my sweet Donnie would ever start a fight,” Brenda interrupted. She sniffed haughtily at you and your son, her nose high in the air.

“Clearly he was just defending himself,” she said.

You held back a snort. Donnie looked terrible compared to Leo.

“He did a shit job defending then,” you muttered. Venus heard you and had to hold back a laugh.

Principal Carter cleared his throat.

“I’d like to ask again what happened. Leonard?”

You ran your fingers through your son’s hair.

“What happened baby? I promise I won’t be mad.”

Leo glared at the other boy.

“Donnie said my family was bad. That daddy and pop are bad guys. And that Auntie Venus was a…” He paused.

“He called Auntie Venus a bad word. And I said he was wrong. And he pushed me. And I hit him.”

You sighed. Charming would always be small town with small minds.

“While I’m glad you stood up for your family baby; we don’t hit,” you said proudly but firmly.

Brenda tsked.

“Well there you have it. What are you going to do about this? He needs to be punished.”

“We have a no tolerance rule for fighting, and normally Leonard would be expelled. However, since it is his first offense, he will be suspended for a week.”

Brenda looked outraged and all you wanted to do was smack her. Which would not solve anything.

“Suspended? And have my Donnie back with his attacker?”

Principal Carter leveled his gaze at Mrs. Decker.

“This is not the first time I’ve heard that Donnie was bullying another student. We also have zero tolerance for bullying. So Donnie will be suspended for two days.”

Brenda tried to argue, but the unflappable principal held up his hand.

“My decision is final.”

**********

You and Venus walked out of the building, Leo swinging between your hands.

Brenda rushed past you, bumping your shoulder as she drug her kid behind her.

“You better keep an eye on your son. Pretty soon he’ll be in jail just like his father,” she sneered.

You stilled.

“I’d keep walking if I were you,” you said evenly. This woman was working your last nerve.

“Or what? You and that tranny-”

You snapped, letting go of your son and closed the distance to Brenda. Her nose exploded in a gush of blood.

“You shut your damn mouth. Venus is a classier lady than you’ll ever be. So you can take your busted fake nose and your close minded cunt rag of a son, and get the fuck out of here,” you growled out.

Brenda paled and all but shoved Donnie into their minivan.

You shook out your fist and turned to Venus who had covered Leo’s ears when you started your rant. You kneeled in front of your son, feeling like you failed him.

“That was wrong of me. To hit Donnie’s mom.”

“To hell with that, that was the sexiest thing I’ve seen,” Tig called out. He and Chibs were sitting on their bikes a few spaces away.

They duo sauntered over to you. Chibs slapped you on the ass.

“Nicely done lass,” he whispered against your neck, giving you a kiss.

You blushed.

“Brenda Decker is such a bitch,” you mumbled.

“I’m such a bad influence on you, I love it,” Tig said wrapping his arm around Venus, who popped him in the stomach.

“While I admit that woman was a nightmare, you didn’t have to do that honey. She wasn’t the first or the last to talk about me,” Venus said.

“No way was I gonna let her talk shit about our family.”

Venus smiled, tearing up a bit at your declaration. Tig took this moment to kneel next to his son.

“So it looked like you won bud,” he said proudly. He held up his fist and Leo bumped it proudly.

“That’s our boy,” Chibs said laughing. You and Venus shared an exasperated look.

That was your men, rough and sometimes crude. And you loved them all the same.

#samficfanclub #sons of anarchy #tig trager #chibs telford #tig x reader #chibs x reader #venus van dam #fluffy #family #samcro #soa #soa fic

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