#I've never prepared a poster so quickly in my life

[vro0m-but-not-cars]

I'm getting praised for doing the absolute easiest job of sitting in a meeting and asking the right questions at the right time for people to organize themselves I love it

Nothing better than doing something that comes so very easily to me and yet has people absolutely baffled by my competency

[terribletaletime]

Neko-napped

•

Farquaad put on his suit and tie, preparing for another awful day as a teacher. God, his students were ungrateful brats. He'd teach and teach but they never once paid attention to him, though. Not unless he hat his hat off, and that was only to laugh at him. You see, Farquaad was cursed with a great shame. His mother really pissed off a bitch of a witch and she cursed him with two little cat ears. It made him a freak his entire life and, much like his classroom, he was always either ignored or laughed at. He never found his person, he never found a friend or a lover who could just look past it all and accept him endlessly. Not even his own parents loved him unconditionally. They never once looked him in the eyes. He was an outcast, and he had to confront this reality every time he looked in the mirror. How pathetic.

Shrek hid behind a bush. If he made the slightest movement, Farquaad would know he was there. He couldn't let that happen. No, everything had to be perfect. He watched every movement Farquaad made from the view of his kitchen and Livingroom windows. God, did his heart swell every time he had looked at Farquaad. He was his teacher, and from the moment he saw him he had fallen in love. Shrek, too, was an outcast. Ogre's were seen as filthy violent beasts, and the idea that one could ever be smart enough to be educated was a joke. He had fought his way to get to college, and the millisecond he had stepped on campus he was met with resistance and laughter from both his peers and teachers. Farquaad, however, always treated him right.

The small man walked outside of his home and locked the door. He secured his hat on tightly and started to make his way past his bushes and towards his car door when suddenly he was tackled. He resisted and struggled, but the weight and strength of the large man restrained him. He was tied up with thick scratchy rope and a chloroform rag was put over his mouth. He shook his head and tried to hold his breath, but ultimately it was a useless struggle as he eventually succumbed to the gas-induced slumber.

Farquaad woke up cold and wet. He looked around and saw that he was in a dank and closed off basement. There was a water leak above him, probably from faulty plumbing (do you have plumbing problems like Shrek? Call Pete's Hard Pipes! He'll fix up your pipes real good, for only $12.78 every 30 minutes he's on the job! It's a steal! Quite literally a steal! Every material we use to fix up your house we robbed from you the night before. So, really, you pay us to get your pipes back. Call now, and for fucks sake don't even slightly get the idea to call the cops because we'll have a guy come break your kneecaps!). The light was dim, so he couldn't see perfectly but he could see the vague outlines of the things around him. He was laying atop a large bed with soft comforters and pillows, there was a large cough with a tv sitting right in front of it, there were posters and paintings all along the wall likely to try to make it seem less-threatening than it actually was, there was a toilet with a room divider next to it, and there was a dining table with two chairs. One of the chairs had chains and cuffs all around it.. He saw a camera in the corner with a dim light shining onto him. It seemed to be the only light source around.

"Hey!" He called out, desperate for help. "Hey where am I?" He tried to move, but suddenly realized that he was chained up.

"Shit, what's going on here?" He saw the door on the top of the stairs open, and out came a tall, fat, and green ogre. He quickly recognized it as Shrek, the only student who actually listens to what he has to say.

"Shrek, is that you? What are you doing here? What... what am I doing here? Surely this is all a misunderstanding, right?" Farquaad let out a nervous chuckle.

"Oh Fara, my love, you are so truly naïve. Can't you see what I've built for you?"

Shrek flicked a light switch and there the room was revealed in full view. Everything he had seem before was now illuminated, and he started to realize the small details. The bedding was exactly the same as what he had at home. The posters and paintings he had were all of media that he liked and places that he had been to. Even the dining table and couch was the same as what he had at home.

"What... how..." Shrek bent down to be at the same level of the now quivering and confused man. He put his hand on Farquaad's mouth and shushed him. He then moved his hand towards Farquaad's cheek and gently caressed it.

"Beautiful," Shrek said. "You're beautiful in every way." Farquaad pulled his head back.

"Don't fucking touch me! Listen, Shrek. I respect you as a student, sure, but this? Shrek this is insane. You have to let me go, I wont tell anyone. I swear on my life, Shrek, I'll keep this between us. Besides, you've got this delusion in your head I'm somehow beautiful but you don't even know me. Not really. This will all be for nothing if you truly did, so let's quit while we're ahead, yeah?" Shrek seemed to get angry at this statement.

"Why would you EVER say something as shameful as that? You are the love of my life! You are the most beautiful man I've ever seen!"

"No, I'm not! I'm shameful, if only you knew! Maybe they're all right, maybe Ogre's really are morons because you can't even understand a simple fact that I'm nothing more than a freak!" Shrek took a step back, completely shocked at the fact that the person he worshipped had turned on him. He looked at Farquaad with disgust and started to walk away. Fearful that if he went away he may never come back, Farquad called out to Shrek.

"Wait- I, uh, I'm... I'm sorry. It isn't you, Shrek. It's me. I've got a secret that, well, I've done everything I could to hide it but people always find out and people always leave  me for it. You're not the moron, I am. I shouldn't have taken my fear of you turning on me out on you." Shrek stopped in hid tracks and he turned around, his face riddled with pity.

"Everyone always looks down on me," Shrek said. "But you never did. You always believed in me in class. You would help me with assignments, give me extensions, and call on me when I raised my hand. I've tried to talk to people before, to love them. Every time I go to meet someone, they run away. I couldn't let that happen with yo. My heart swells at the very thought of you. So, I've been watching you every day. I've been studying every little thing I could about you so that way I could know exactly how to make you happy. Farquaad, I know your secret. I've been seeing you from your windows every day. Your ears don't scare me. The only thing that scares me is the thought of you ever looking down on yourself, the thought that you think that you don't deserve any love."

Farquaad started to tear up and turned his head away. Why, why did he feel this way? Shrek gently removed his hat and stroked Farquaad's cat ears with tender love and care. Shrek was his captor, he was the enemy. He was supposed to do everything he could to run away and hide. Yet, all he wanted to do right now was to be with Shrek. For the first time in his life he was unconditionally loved. In fact, he was so loved that Shrek risked everything to build a small life together. Maybe, just maybe, this sick fate was their destiny. Maybe something as deprived like this was perfect for two freaks. Farquaad leaned in and kissed Shrek. Nothing had ever felt more right in either of their lives.

It had been three months of the two of them living together. They had fallen into a routine. They wake up, Shrek makes them a breakfast they share together, Shrek leaves to go to class and to work, he comes back, Shrek makes them lunch, they watch TV together for a few hours, make out a bit or maybe even go further, eat dinner, and then cuddle before dozing off to sleep. It was perfect. To both of them, it was their fairytale dream life. However, what neither of them realized is that their happy ending would soon come to a crashing halt. Shrek had just come home from class when he seemed agitated. 

"What's wrong, love?" Farquaad asked. They had spent enough time together to know the subtle bodily hints to tell when the other is upset.

"We have a problem. They're coming."

"What are you talking about, Shrek?" Shrek sighed as he sat down on their bed.

"I've never told you this, but the university reported you missing about two months ago. They've been investigating it ever since. Once I found that out, I bought a police radio scanner for my car and... I heard over the radio that they're coming. They figured out exactly what I've done and they're on their way. They're going to separate us, we'll never be together again."

"No, NO! They can't do that. Surely there's a way around this. I'll testify! We can say it was all some sort of weird fetish thing, right? They have to believe that, right?" Shrek let out a wry chuckle.

"They'll never believe that my love. There is a way for us to be together forever, though." Shrek pulled out a pistol from his pocket.

"With this, we die together. In our each other's arms, we will be eternally joined. They can't take that away from us." The sirens started to become audible.

"Okay," Farquaad said without hesitation. Let's do this."

Shrek hugged Farquaad as tightly as possible. They both started to sob siflty as they felt the warm embrace of the other. Shrek kissed Farquaad's head and pulled the trigger. His lover's brain splattered all over his face, bedding, and the walls. He cried even harder, and pointed the gun towards his head.

"Here's to forever."

[8bitscarlet]

To Die For

Summary: Your life had never known stability or the feeling of safety in it ever. But green eyes seem to I've you everything you've been missing. And you wonder, if they're something worth living for or dying for.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff (canon violence, cussing, blood, gun usage, mention of alcohol, alcohol consumption)

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: I'm alive! I've had an incredibly busy last two weeks but I was able to squeeze this fic in with some free moments that I had. These next few months will be busy as well, so fics will be turning out slowly but they'll be turning out! 😂 So, here's Chapter 14 of AOP. Happy Reading everyone! 💕

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*

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Your knee bounces on top of your leg as your pen keeps a constant rhythm against your notepad. The supposed general of this guerilla group that’s being targeted with HYDRA weaponry by the corrupt government drones on in the background. Finishing the lines on the scribble you’ve been working on, you glance up at Nat. She flicks her eyes to the projecting screen and you sigh, looking at the routes you’ve already memorized. 

The guards that stand around the room are growing antsy with the length of the meeting, feet aching in old boots as they try to keep tired eyes on all of you. Though the Avengers had never had run-ins with them, they sure had run-ins with the U.S. government. Some shadowy deals during a tumultuous time brought this now corrupt government into power and now anyone who looks American has a few extra eyes on them with some hidden grudges. 

“I don’t see why you can’t just drop your bombs that your military is always raving about?” You glance up at the voice coming from a sitting lieutenant, his eyes boring holes into Steve, the American poster boy. 

Steve sits up straighter with a frown, you know he didn’t want to be that poster boy but the name “Captain America”, it was impossible not to be. You lean forward and slide your pen behind your ear, 

“Total war with them isn’t exactly one of your little guerilla play fights. Though, maybe if your soldiers handled their alcohol better…” you glance at the sweating and swaying guards around the room. You remember seeing them puking and falling over each other early this morning when you went to meet Sam for a run. 

“That one’s awfully mouthy, aren’t they?” The Lieutenant cackles and slams his hand against another soldier’s chest, “We know who you all are and what you do and who you do it for. So how about you keep quiet about things you don’t know.”

Wanda closes her notebook quietly, clearing her throat, “We can’t follow you blindly. We’re partners here, so can we act like that?”

The lieutenant’s dark eyes flash to Wanda, a glint in them that causes your fists to clench tightly. She notices, her hand reaching out and subtly resting on your thigh. You let out a slow sigh, eyes locked on the lieutenant as he scowls. 

“Why don’t you go brew some curses and fly around on your broomstick, witch? Don’t talk when you haven’t got a clue.”

You slam your notepad down now, your pen flying across the room and nearly hit one of the soldiers. Standing quickly, the chair you were sitting in flies out from you and crashes into the wall behind you. You dig your finger down into the table, 

“Know what, asshole? Just realized I don’t give a damn about this little truce. And I certainly don’t give a damn about you.”

As you talk, you make your way around the table, hearing the adjustments of rifles as you get closer to the Lieutenant. He doesn’t back down though and wave for you to get shot. He stands up, meeting you as you reach him and preparing to take the first swing. Glaring him down, you hear the squeaking of wheels and then a hand presses against your shoulder. 

“Alright you two. That’s enough,” Steve tries to push you away but you stay locked where you are, not letting this asshole get away with what he said. 

“No, let them take it outside,” Nat says, flipping through her notes without a second glance at the excitement. At the thickening silence, her green eyes glance up and you watch them roll, “Trust me.”

Nat knows the culture here. You don’t back away from insulting words and walk away with your tail between your legs. You fight against them and whether or not you win, you gain respect. Both you and Nat know that respect is what’s needed right now and you glance at Wanda. She rolls her eyes, knowing you’re not really asking for permission to defend her honor, she doesn’t need your help. But she grins softly, picking up a brow in an intrigued stare and you can feel a warmth growing inside your chest. 

“When I’m done with you,” you point at the Lieutenant, “You’re going to apologize to the lady,”

His laugh follows after you through the backdoor as you rip off your button down and trudge through the light snow that appeared overnight. It’s been cleared with some shovels and the afternoon sun, leaving behind slippery mud as you step into the makeshift ring that’s been made for occasions like this. 

Soldiers are staring as the Lieutenant carefully takes off his uniformed shirt with clanging medals, the higher ranks never stepped foot into this ring. But there he is, fists covering his face and eagerly taking the first swing. 

You grimace against his punches, knuckles hitting just right between your ribs. He’s slow but his hits cause even you some pain. Ducking below a swing meant for your jaw, you carefully catch on to his rhythm. Swings catch nothing but empty air as you dodge around him. A crowd has gathered, Nat squeezing past the yells of encouragement for the Lieutenant and curses towards you. Glancing to the side, you notice Nat slip some cash to the bet taker and you scoff, wondering if she’s betting on you. 

Clenching yourself, you narrowly dodge the fist meant to knock you out and you spin around. The mud swings you around faster than normal as your foot slams into the Lieutenant’s knee. You stumble and in your moment of weakness, he lunges for you. Mud shoots out from underneath you as you're slammed into the ground but he loses his grip on you as you slam your mud covered hand against his face. 

Squirming out from his knee that pins into your hip, you clamber behind him and wrap yourself around him. Legs lock around his waist as your arms lock around his neck, and you squeeze hard. Panting as you push his head forward, pressing him further into your arm, slowly you lean forward. 

“Had enough?”

He snarls, trying to flip you off of him but you jerk your arm back, listening to his gag as he topples over into the mud. Any air he tries to breathe, it’ll be mixed with it. He knows it's only a matter of time before he passes out and you’re not letting him go until he’s gone limp. With a moment to think as his vision starts to close, you watch his hand rise and then tap against your arm. 

You release immediately, clambering up to your feet in case some of the soldiers decide to come to his honor this time. Instead, nothing happens. They all stare with wide eyes that you’ve beaten the Lieutenant and that’s when you watch the General step forward through the crowd.

He glances down at his bloodied right hand man and then to you. You wait for him to kick you off the base but instead, you listen to a laugh come out that echoes without walls. The rest of the soldiers start to holler and whoop as the Lieutenant is helped to his feet. 

“You’ve got a hard swing,”

You chuckle and rub against an aching spot on chin, “I’d call that a team bonding experience,” you reach out and take his hand for a shake, “As soon as you apologize to the lady,”

You glance over at Wanda who gives a small grin, a sparkle in her eye as she looks at you. 

“Don’t hold it against me, ma’am. We’re a bit frightened of your powers but we know you’re needed. Just glad you’re on our side.”

He limps off to the infirmary as you graciously take a canteen of water from one of the soldiers. Wanda takes your discarded button down and gently pats away the blood from your split eyebrow, “Don’t be turning into a knight in shining armor, Y/N. I like battle worn armor.”

Her shoulder bumps into yours and you glance at her, curious with that glow in her stare, beckoning you to stay close. You oblige as you follow her for a short while while she walks through the base and you look around at the street signs, trying to figure out where you’re going. 

Groups of soldiers are walking around, others run past and yell out cadence as they train while the two of you stick out like a sore thumb. Lengthening your steps, you fall into step with Wanda and you glance at her. 

“The night before the mission and you want to get plastered?” you look up at the base’s bar that you’re heading towards, “You should’ve invited Sam.”

Wanda looks at you, “If I wanted to get drunk I would’ve brought him. But I’d like to remember tonight.”

An old, neon lit sign marks the building for all to see. You glance at the slightly buzzing sign and see the name of the band who’s playing tonight. Letting out a quiet hum, you’re surprised to see such a popular group coming to this little base. You’d seen posters lining through the city for their stadium tour, they must’ve added this without much notice to the government. 

“Hey, since I fought for your honor, I get a free beer right?” You ask as you open the door to the sound of bustling conversations and strumming instruments. 

Wanda sighs and pokes at the bruise on your chin, causing you to jolt away but you’re quickly following her, “I should be getting that beer for you not letting me take care of my honor.”

You chuckle, pulling out a seat at one of the few empty tables and waiting for her to sit, “I have to keep up with your magic. My super strength is boring.” 

“Oh, yes, so boring. I yawned when you flipped that car with Johnson in it before he sped away.”

Settling down into the chair across from her, you grin, “It was nothing.”

“I’m not stroking your ego with this fake humbleness,” Wanda tilts her head slightly, “But it was something,”

You hold up your hand as a waiter walks by, “Get this woman whatever she wants,” you slide out your wallet and flick up your card between your fingers, “And put it on my tab,”

The evening turns into night and the lights inside the bar dim, only a few moments of colored bulbs as the band takes the stage. It’s a calm setting, no one running up to the stage or loud cheering. Everyone inside is there for a relaxing time and you sink down into your seat as you slowly turn your beer against its coaster. 

Your eyes had been watching the band for a bit as the music was swelling around you, but they always seemed to fall away. They’d find their way back across the table that your beer sat on. On a redhead who’s own eyes were constantly falling away. The first few times your eyes fell on each other, they snapped quickly back to the guitar player. Your cheeks burning in the darkness as you quickly sipped from your drink. 

But every few moments, you’d find yourself staring into those dark green eyes and wishing you never had to look away from them. Taking in a slow breath as you unclench your fist that hid beside your thigh, you decide it’s been long enough. You swung punches for this woman, risked your life on multiple occasions, why can’t you just look at her. 

To watch the way her nose scrunches when the lead singer tells a joke. How she whispers to herself as she translates the words to herself, her lips moving nearly imperceptibly. Her fingers keeping the beat along with the foot of her crossed leg, remembering how they felt against your skin.

Your eyes follow over every curve and line on her face, finding each one as interesting as the last. The world seems to melt away as you watch her hair fall over her shoulder as she turns. Then those green eyes look at you and this time, neither of you snap away. 

“You’re staring,” Wanda says after a long moment of her eyes running along your face and a grin resting on her lips. 

“Am I?” you ask, sarcasm dripping from your grin, 

Wanda leans back into her seat, “Do I have a hair out of place? Some mud on my shirt from you flinging it around?”

You nod slowly, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

She grins wider and you feel the corners of your eyes crinkle as yours spreads against your face. 

“What do you think?” she asks, eyeing the dancers and people walking around all of the decorations. 

You shrug, “It’s a bit boring and drab, you know?”

Her laugh makes its way through the music and comes in clear as day, as if she’s sitting right next to you. Clearing your throat, you have a passing thought as you wish that she was. 

“You’re still staring,”

“So are you,” you lean forward and rest your arms on the table, your eyes finally flicking away from Wanda and towards the dance floor. There’s a few couples that dance around, not crowded and plenty of space, “Come on. We’re gonna dance.”

“Dance?” Wanda shakes her head as you stand and wipe away the dry mug from your shirt, “No, I remember clearly that you don’t dance. You’re too cool for that.”

You hold out your hand, “Things change don’t they?”

She eyes your hand, not shaking though your body is filled with electricity, “Do they?”

With a grin, you wave her to come with you, “Well, we’re certainly going to find out.”

Her cool hand rests in yours and you pull her up to her feet slowly, letting out a quiet breath as you try to calm your racing heart. The walk is short but you have time for a billion thoughts to race through your head. Thoughts to try and remind yourself how to dance, others trying to determine how tight of a grip you should have on Wanda’s hand, if you had locked your room door or not. 

But you raise her hand as you turn on the balls of your feet, raising your brows as Wanda steps up to you. Pulling her raised hand a little, she steps even closer. Lowering your arm, her hand rests on your back and she glances up at you. You grin as your feet move perfectly with each other, not a single glance to see if you’re about to step on her toes.

Every second is dedicated to her and she grins and you wonder if she’s heard what you’re thinking. Memorizing the way the lights shine against her eyes and how they glow up at you. The soft wrinkles on her face that almost disappeared when she slept. All the nights you nearly reached out to trace them on missions as nothing more than teammates, as friends. 

As you raise your hand and twist your wrist slowly, sending her into a soft spin, you wonder if she’s had those thoughts. And as she comes around the turn, you hope that she has. 

Her feet face you again and you pull against each other, stepping even closer than before. Your bodies press against each other now, her warm breath rushing along the top of your shirt as you watch her eyes drop down to your lips. 

“What’s the matter?” you whisper, thumb grazing along her hip, “I’ve been practicing.”

“Well, for one, you smell,” she chuckles but you feel her grip tighten against your belt loops, “And I don’t think I’ve gone this long without hearing you complain.”

You grin, “Me, either. Are we… there’s nothing wrong with enjoying this?”

She hums quietly as the ballad continues beyond this two foot world, her head resting along your shoulder as goosebumps run down your neck. You lift her hand again and she finds its resting place on your neck, as though she’d done this so many times before. Your hand rests on her arm, feeling how soft her skin is along your fingertips. As she hums against you, the vibration in her chest filling yours, you only hope that things have changed. 

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Adjusting the body armor you have on, you put your pistol back in your holster after finally clearing one of the last rooms you were assigned. You glance over as Wanda lets out a quiet sneeze. You chuckle quietly, her eyes flicking to you with a quiet warning to not say anything about it. The whole building is under construction, it’s old, dusty and practically coming apart. 

“When you meant battle worn armor, I was hoping you meant armor that actually fit.”

Wanda sighs and walks down to the final door, “Can’t even go a day without a complaint.”

You let out a scoff, “Me complain? Who was complaining when I cleaned the coffee spoon?”

She whips around as a red missile slams open the door, her energy glowing from her hands as she steps into the dark and windowless room, “You cleaned it with your mouth!”

“I thought you were done!” you call after her, flipping plastic off of brand new, shining equipment. You clench your brows, intrigued how such expensive and new equipment conveniently ended up somewhere so moldy and musty. 

Wanda leans against the exit door and crosses her arms, a finger flicking upwards as the remaining lights flicker on, “You know I have two cups a day. I hadn’t even finished my first.”

You roll your eyes and whisper as you pass her, “I ate the rest of your chips,”

Her gasp fills the quiet room as you grin at her, a shiver running through your body as you reach out for the door. Before Wanda can accuse you of all the other snacks of hers that have gone missing, you go to push open the door. 

There’s a soft click and you freeze. You wait for an explosion or an alarm to start blaring but nothing happens. Wrapping your hand around the door knob, you shimmy it but it stays shut and doesn’t give a single millimeter of movement. Instead, you hear another click and then the sound of an almost silent fan. 

Clenching your brows, you glance over to the vents and make your way over with slow steps. There’s a nearly clear cloud working its way out, a yellowish tint when it comes into contact with the light. The fan inside the vents starts to pick up speed now and you try to peer inside to see if there’s a canister you can rip out. 

“Y/N, do you hear that?”

“I smell it,” you grunt, the room filling with a growing mustiness as you feel a tickle in your throat. You start to feel a tickle in your throat, “We gotta think of something.”

You ram full speed into one of the doors but it doesn’t budge. Your foot slams over and over into the door, but all it does is make a dent in the door. 

“What are these doors made of?” you grunt and try to rip it off its hinges. 

“Y/N!” Wanda shouts for you and you turn quickly, covering your face with your shirt as you start to tear off the body armor and drop it at your feet. You follow where she’s pointing with your eyes and see that there’s scaffolding in the room. Following it up, you can see a window that hadn’t been covered. 

Jogging over without a question of if the scaffolding is steady to be climbed on, Wanda follows close behind you as you press your back against the metal. Interlocking your fingers, Wanda presses her boot into them as she steadies herself with a hand on your shoulder. Glancing up from her grasp, her eyes find yours and you feel her fingers wrap tighter around you. 

“Wanda?” you whisper, feeling her other hand skim along your neck

“Yeah,” she whispers back, her other boot pressing against your thigh.

You grin, “We have to get out of here first if we want to laugh about this later.”

Her lips slowly turn upward, “I should start climbing.”

Grunting as you slowly and carefully lift her up until she’s able to grasp the metal railings, you step back and watch her swing her leg over, “You know, I could’ve just done this?”

As you clench your thighs to try and get as high up on the scaffold as you can get, you feel your body get wrapped in a warm embrace. You try to grab onto something as your stomach flips and you try to swim towards the railing. 

“You should get better at reminding me that you have magic. Cause,” you grab hold of the rail with a grunt and feel your feet slowly float to solid ground, “You are exhausting to lift.”

Hopping up and over, you land next to Wanda with only the soft creaking of wood between you. Her eyes are locked on yours, breath hitched when you both see how close you’ve landed to her. Her finger jumping up and just skimming your hand, your eyes falling to her parted lips for a fleeting moment. You can feel yourself start to lean forward onto your toes as Wanda lets out a quiet sigh. 

You pause before you can act on this moment, to see if there’s anything behind this pull you have towards her or if this is just an incredibly long case of getting rid of pent up emotions with no strings attached. You feel a grin rise at the corner of your lips, you know that’s not it. As you start to tilt your head, fingers reaching out to her jacket, a sound gets your heart pounding. 

Your shoulder bumps into Wanda, your hand gripping your pistol as you glance back at her. Her glowing red eyes are already looking at you, the sound of bullets growing louder. There’s yells and crashing coming from the other room and the sound of pounding against a wall. You pull out your pistol, stepping slowly in front of Wanda as you sneak forward. Drywall explodes out and you flick the safety off and wait until you can see what you’re shooting to wrap your finger around that trigger.

Coughing comes from the dust as it starts to settle and you stand up straight, watching Nat and Steve run through the plastered over door. Nat swings herself around the hole into cover, peeking out as Steve waves the two of you off of the scaffolding. 

“This whole place is getting ambushed. We gotta move!” he tells you as Nat starts to fire out of the room. 

Steve waves you towards the exit that’s a floor down and through the main entrance. Satisfied that the two of you will get out of here just fine, he takes Nat to work down the halls. You follow after them for a moment, trying to find a safe way down to the main entrance. It’s quick work, the majority of the enemies’ attention is on the guerilla soldiers, you’re not even sure if they know you guys are here. 

And they never do. With a few quiet shots and knife slices there and a few of Nat’s leg wrapping knockouts here, you work towards a broken office window that overlooks the foyer of the main entrance. Peeking over, you can see a wooden scaffolding below and old building equipment littering the planks and the floor below.

You scoff, wondering how long Hydra was planning on fixing this place up and when they gave up. Still, with all this new equipment, it must just be used as a storage area. The scaffolding looks shaky just from the rotted wooden planks and you try to figure out where to land. 

You’ll have to carefully place your feet to make sure it doesn’t collapse and give away your position. The bullets have quieted now and hopefully the soldiers are sneaking away but Hydra doesn't need to know where you are. And the government here and at home, also don’t need to know. 

“We’ll start clearing the way down there,” Nat tells you, climbing through the window and dropping down. There’s a small creak but Steve follows after her without fear. There’s a small swaying but everything stays together as they climb down safely. They look around, waving for you and Wanda to come down as they go peek down the hallways. 

“Come on,” you say and clamber through the window. You land on the wood perfectly, grunting at the impact but freeze immediately. Something’s not right.

A creak didn’t follow your landing but a snap. Twisting yourself to look up at the window without moving your feet, you hold out your hand, “Wanda, wait!”

She’s already out the window and landing next to you by the time your words leave your mouth. The crack echoes out loudly through the room and the entire scaffolding collapses under you. You reach out to try and grab Wanda but everything happens too quickly as you try and suck in a deep breath before it gets knocked from your lungs. 

Wanda’s yell follows you down and as you smack against the floor, pain explodes through your stomach and shoulder. You know you hit hard on your shoulder when you instinctively tried to reach onto Wanda but you don’t know why your stomach is burning, much more than just losing your breath. 

Glancing down, you see something that wasn’t there previously, sticking out of you. Through your hazy eyesight and nausea, you make out the shape of a rebar sticking out of your abdomen. 

“Fuck!” you yell and suck in a breath, your hands shaking against the warmth spreading along your shirt, You groan, knowing you shouldn’t have taken off the armor. 

Wanda quickly picks herself up from the rough fall she still had and clambers over to you as she falls to her knees. You hear yelling coming from behind her and watch through tears of pain at the door behind her trying to cave in. The crash of the scaffolding and your yell was probably heard through the building and it’s exactly where the enemy is running towards. Nat grabs Steve and shoves him towards the other door to stop the flanking position, yelling at you to keep breathing. 

“What do I do?” Wanda asks frantically, not knowing what injury to look at first. 

“Move,” you groan out, your arm falling limp and fingers trying to wrap around the grip of your gun. 

Wanda can’t hear your tortured breaths and leans forward, “What?”

“Move!” you shove her aside against the pain and bring your only working arm up with your gun. The gun breaks down and two soldier’s come barging in. You pray to the adrenaline gods as you quickly aim down the sights and the world slows down, letting you watch them raise their rifles and see the yells that escape their mouths. 

The first bullet hits right on its mark and the soldier falls against his buddy that got knocked with Cap’s shield. Nat takes out the other two coming in that stare in horror as a large group of their friends get slammed into the wall by a wave of red. You watch the last two slump as the world comes back to speed. Wanda gets back to you, shaking and huffing. 

Nat kneels next to you and stares down at your bleeding abdomen, trying to figure out if she can move you. Taking in a slow breath, she nods and tries to ignore your sputtering breaths. 

“Two birds with one stone,” she points to Wanda, “Grab their shoulder,”

She quickly instructs Wanda where to grab and how much force to shove against the limb to get it back into working order. Wanda looks at you, trying to keep your breathing controlled and to focus on anything but the slow, pain pulsating through you. 

You nod, “Just do it,” And in one quick motion, as if she’s done it a million times, she pops it back in with only a small yelp from you. 

“Alright,” Nat wipes your blood on her pants, “I need you to help me pick them up,”

“What?” Wanda nearly yells and stares at the stick of metal sticking out of you.

“We can’t leave them here, Wanda,” they lower their voices to whispers, trying not to let you in on their plan. 

In a quiet count to each other, you clench your teeth as they start to pull your arms and your body follows with a warm embrace. You feel it slide out of your body and so does the scream that you try to hold in. Nat lets go of your arm as Wanda’s magic slowly settles you on your feet and holds you steady as you find your footing. It feels like something is missing from your body and from the haziness in your head, you know you’ve lost a lot of blood. 

You hobble forward, swaying as you press against the wound, Wanda’s hands glowing as she tries to keep you steady. The pain is exploding through your body with each step that you take, bringing tears to your already blurry vision. You hold your hands against the warm blood oozing its way out of you. 

“We need to go,” you groan out, you nearly tip forward as you push Nat ahead, “Scout ahead. Together. Please.”

The main exit you were looking at is barricaded on the other side, you’re going to need a side exit and you’re going to need to find it fast. Wanda lingers for a second but soon follows the Black Widow after putting your pistol back into your bloody hand. Her green eyes stare at you for a moment as she cocks the gun and your hand wraps around hers and the grip. 

“Super strength, remember?” you breathe out carefully, as you try to grin “Keeping up with your magic. Go, please.”

Though her eyes flick down to your lips, it’s not the time. Both of you are thinking the same thing, you don’t have to read minds to know. And she’s not giving this moment any chance of being a last moment. You follow after them, dragging yourself down the hallway with groans and huffs. You learn against a doorway, pressing a bloody hand against the white hot pain. The blood doesn’t want to stop. Sliding forward, you watch as the blood from your hand leaves a long streak along the wall. 

You let out a heavy breath and lean against a desk as you follow the open doors that the two women are leaving as a trail for you. You can’t climb over the old dusty desks and equipment in the hallway, you have to snake through and around the offices. 

Glancing up, you realize you must’ve rested for longer than you intended as you watch Wanda jog back into the room. She carefully helps you down to the ground and you grip her arm tightly. You want to protest, to tell her that you all need to get out of here but only grunts are forming from your mouth. 

“Nat sent me back, we can’t find Steve,” she whispers and stops from continuing forward when she hears footsteps. She leaves without a word and you try to reach out for her and fail miserably as you catch yourself before you topple over. 

You lean against the desk as you hear a door being kicked open. Your heart is pounding, which isn’t helping how fast the blood is escaping your body but you try to climb up to your knees. Trying to get up to protect Wanda from whoever has decided to join the party but you can’t lift yourself up. 

“I know you’re in here. Make it easy on yourself,” the soldier calls out, his boots hitting the ground softly. 

Taking three quick breaths, you lean out to pop a shot towards his head and end this. Instead, he fires his shotgun at the first thing that moves, forcing you to fall back into the cover of the desk. He’s standing his ground, ready to fire the second he sees any movement from this area. Breathing in carefully, you mutter for him to take a step closer. You’ll fight him to the ground, you have enough strength left. Keep him busy so Wanda can make it out of the room. 

But Wanda has other ideas. You hear her yell and you peek out from the corner to see what the hell she’s doing. She jumps out from behind a desk, red glowing from her hands as she forces the soldier down to the ground. She sinks the blade of the knife she stole from your boot into his shoulder, her aim slightly off from ending the fight. 

You try to quickly aim at him as Wanda is flipped off of him and she stumbles into a folder cabinet. Letting out a grunt as you pull back the trigger and you feel the recoil rush through your entire body, you collapse to the ground. 

A second soldier comes running as you hit the ground, trying to pick up your hand to aim and empty the clip in your gun. Your head is heavy and any thought takes so much extra effort and time. You can’t see straight and your arm shakes as you try to lift the gun up to anywhere near where the soldier is. He doesn’t notice you though, all of his attention is on firing at the witch in the room. Wanda blocks his bullets that are trying to catch her as he gets closer and closer. 

Your bloody hand slips off the desk trying to get up as he ducks behind a half wall and avoids Wanda’s magic. He chucks folders and a chair at her, distracting her as she quickly blocks away the objects that could turn fatal and then takes the opportunity to lunge. 

“Get away!” you yell and slip against the wooden desk again. 

He swings his arm and connects his gun with her face. She falls with a yell and in a moment of perfect connection, you slide your pistol across the ground as you faceplant it on the thin, carpeted floor. Wanda grabs it as the soldier raises the butt of his rifle above his head and you hear the holy sound of gunfire. 

You watch as five quick explosions come from the barrel. The man falls next to her as Wanda stares up at the ceiling, quick breaths escaping and entering her lungs. You both are frozen for a moment, your body trying to keep you still and Wanda trying to stop the flashes of her life in front of her. 

Wanda quickly gets up to her feet and runs to you. With more thought to get you out fast instead of babying your injury, she helps you to your feet against your painful yells. Instinctively, your bloody hand touches the swelling cut on her cheek. 

“You’re hurt,” 

She slaps your hand away, “I’m not bleeding out, Y/N. Focus, please!” Your feet are starting to drag and you lean against a filing cabinet, trying to catch a breath. 

“Come on, Y/N. You really gotta start moving,” she waves at you to move your feet now that the hallway is empty and clear. The last thing you all need is for the hallway to get filled with soldiers again. 

“I got it, go,” you shove her forward and take a few steps before leaning against an overturned desk. Your blood is staining the wood as Wanda jogs down the hallway towards the back exit. 

“Come on!” she yells at you, glancing around for more soldiers to ruin the party. 

You take a step and another, each one worse than the last. Wanda has opened the door, the bright light almost blinding as you lean against a pile of wood for another rest. You can barely breathe without having excruciating pain explode through you. You cough and cringe from the burning feeling coming from inside of you. 

Wanda grabs your arm, scaring you as you nearly thought about resting your face on the planks of wood, and starts to put it over her shoulder. You push her forward and stumble slightly, you don’t want her to be slowed down because of you. 

“Let’s go, Y/N. Walk!” she orders, her voice cracking slightly as she jogs to the exit to make sure the coast is clear. 

You stumble forward, taking slow and careful steps. She keeps watch, staring out the door as you make your way so slowly to her. The pain becomes a numbing sensation but your vision is going out. You can barely keep yourself upright and you probably look like you’re at death’s door right now. 

“Okay, it’s clear. Come on.” She tells you. 

Your body and mind work together, to try and get all of your limbs working, but you continue to stumble over your own feet. You fall with a grunt and through the blinding light, Wanda comes sprinting towards you. 

“Come on. We need to go,” she tells you and starts to drag you to the door faster than you would like, but you know time is of the essence. 

You fall against the door to catch your breath but she keeps moving. Shoving you out the door and letting you stumble out into the crisp air by yourself. Winter was holding on for far too long this year. You can hear the screeching of tires and the rumbling of engines, this isn’t good. 

“Y/N!” you stop, staggering back towards the building and turn yourself around slowly. 

You groan and press your hand against your side, eyeing the scene in front of you carefully. Wanda is gripping Strucker’s sleeve, looking at the guns pointing towards her. Strucker grins at you, flicking the safety of his gun off. Without losing eye contact, you pull back the chamber and ready your rifle. Thankful to still have it but knowing that your spine was not happy to land partially on it. 

Strucker’s jaw clenches slightly as you put his puny head between your sights. 

“Now, Y/N. You shoot me and my comrades shoot you. But who will save your friend?”

You growl and step forward, willing every last ounce of strength to keep you steady, “Let her go.”

“No,” he smiles at you.

“Let. Her. Go.” you grip the rifle tighter, not a single quiver or falter in your movements. You’ll kill him and everyone pointing guns at you right now. You don’t care how long this stand off lasts. 

Struckers presses the gun against Wanda’s head, you watch as she clenches against his sleeve tighter. She’s trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. If she knocks him back with magic, his guards are going to fill you with lead. And she knows, the way you’re staring at her, she couldn’t save both of you and get Strucker.

“The rifle please.” Strucker’s brows raise as his accent sends the rest of your blood boiling, “We don’t need more bloodshed, Y/N.”

You hesitate as you look around. Strucker sighs and nods his head. You hear the steps too late and feel your knee give out with a strike and then the butt of a gun cracking against your face. You’re restrained easily in your weakened state and you swallow carefully against the metal blade that presses against your throat. 

“Y/N!” Wanda yells but shuts up with a yelp when Struckers pulls her hair. 

“Stop!” you yell and hold up your hands, “Fucking stop!”

“Shame to see you’ve really fallen into this hero gig,” he slides the gun down Wanda’s face with a small grin, “Where’s the missing folder?”

You stare at him, replaying the memory of you bloodied and beaten and handing off a bent manila folder to Yelena. Years ago, before you were taken back into Hydra’s grasp and reconditioned. They were plans you had stolen from Hydra but there’s something gnawing in your brain. They filled the blanks of their plans without that folder. You know they did. 

“I gave it to you,”

Strucker sighs, “I’m going to count to ten. And you’re going to tell me who you gave it to.”

You glare at him, wincing as the blade digs into your throat further and a jolt of pain comes from your stomach. 

“Or she dies.”

Strucker watches with amusement as your eyes widen, trying to go back to that day. A dreadful day where you were strapped to a chair. Endless questions. You couldn’t have given up Yelena, she wouldn’t be here if you had. You clench your eyes, trying to bring back such a hazy memory. 

A gunshot echoes out and you flick your eyes open to the bullethole that’s now in the ground. Wanda screams as you lunge forward, ignoring the pain and warmth of blood that runs down your throat now. 

“Do you think I’m playing around!”

Four guys grab you now, surprised by this sudden bout of strength and one slams their baton onto the bloody spot on your shirt. You scream, leaning over in pain as you gag and the metallic taste coats your tongue, “You son of a bitch!”

Strucker is yelling, trying to get you to tell him where the plans are. Where the weapon is and to give it to him. The prototype, you know where it is. Where it was hidden. 

“Wanda, look at me. Wanda. Stay with me” you glance away from Strucker to Wanda, silent tears streaming down her face. You glare at him, “I’m going to kill you, I swear to god!”

“Eight!”

You try to fight the tight grasps on your wrists, “Stop! Jesus, look just stop! And I promise you, I will help you find whatever you want!”

“Nine!”

“Please, don’t do this. Listen to me. I will help you. No contract. No payment. Just please. Leave her out of this. She’s done nothing!”

Stucker just glares at you, the tip of the gun still pressed against Wanda’s head. You shake your head, “Please, no,” hot tears run down your face, “No.”

There’s no hesitation, no thought. “Ten,” And the gunshot beats your screams.

_______________ CH 15

[pretchatta]

All Spectre's Eve

my gift for @alshatano as part of the @starwarsfandomfests Halloween exchange – the Ghost crew prepare to go trick-or-treating with Ahsoka and Rex!

rating: general || 1.8k words || also on AO3

---

In some ways, life on Garel was very similar to life on Lothal, but in others it was very different. At first, Ezra had found the change exciting; there were so many new sights and sounds and smells, it was nothing like the boring sameness of Capital City. But then he’d got used to them, and the never-ending noise and bustle of traffic and people wasn't as fun.

He mostly kept to the hangar where Phoenix Squadron was based, preferring to stay near the familiar faces and ships. It was also nice having the option of retreating into the Ghost whenever he needed to; his home, where his family was.

That was where Sabine found him – in the cargo bay, practising the lightsaber forms Kanan had taught him.

She hopped up to perch on a nearby empty cargo crate, watching him move from stance to stance.

"Have you seen those posters for the festival that’s happening tomorrow?" she asked.

He didn’t stop working his way through the familiar patterns of Form III as he responded. "No, I haven't been out of the spaceport much recently. Is it a local thing?"

"I think so. The name translates as ‘Spirits’ Night’. Apparently everyone dresses up as spirits and gives gifts to each other."

"So…" Ezra furrowed his brow, his concentration split between his saber swings and Sabine's words. "Like Life Day, but in costume?"

"Not really, they go door-to-door in groups, and the gifts are usually small things like sweets. And they really go all-out on the costumes – it sounds like something fun for us to do as a family." He was starting to hear the excitement in her voice – Sabine did love a project. "Even Ahsoka could come, if she’s dressed up enough no-one will recognise her!"

"I guess…" It did sound fun – but what would he dress up as? "Hey, could I be a Jedi?"

"No, laserbrain, the Imperials would probably lock you up for promoting treason," Sabine said with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh. Right."

"But I bet I could make us all some great costumes. I’m going to ask Hera if we can go."

She slid off the crate and jogged over to the cockpit ladder, clearly already deep in thought. Ezra smiled and continued his forms, his mind returning to the meditative place it usually fell to when he did this, the conversation quickly fading from his mind.

He didn't think of it again until the following afternoon when Zeb called him into the Ghost's common area. When he arrived, it was to find it already full; the whole crew was there minus Sabine, including Ahsoka and Rex, the latter of whom was wearing only his blacks.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Dunno," Zeb replied. "I think Sabine's been working on some kinda project. Yesterday she went around the spaceport picking up junk and today she's been locked in her room all day."

"Oh good, you're all here!" Sabine's voice cut over the low murmur of chatter in the room as she entered. "So I've already mentioned this to a few of you, but tonight is the Spirits' Night festival here on Garel and I convinced Hera to let us all go. I've been working on everyone's costumes, so before you decide anything I just want you to see them, because I'm pretty sure you're going to like them. Ahsoka, you're first!"

With a small smile, Ahsoka stepped forwards and allowed Sabine to lead her from the room.

"Why do I get the feeling mine's going to be a Wookiee costume," Zeb grumbled.

"What's wrong with being a Wookiee?" Ezra asked.

"Yeah, you'd make a great Wookiee," Kanan added.

"But I'm always a Wookiee."

"Just wait and see what she's got planned," Hera said with a smirk.

Kanan turned to her. "Wait, do you know what she's dressing each of us as?"

"Not everyone, but she showed me some of her sketches, and you know how creative she is."

It didn't take long for Ahsoka to re-emerge. Sabine had certainly done a creative number on her; her face and montrals were covered in red and grey paint, and she wore a strangely-stuffed oversized flightsuit that made her look like–

"You’re a Devaronian!" Ezra exclaimed.

Ahsoka grinned at the recognition. Sabine had painted her montrals to look like horns, and the red face paint covered up her white markings. It certainly looked convincing.

Hera was next, which meant Chopper was too as the droid refused to put on a costume unless Hera was there with him. He trundled back into the room wearing a tiny cloak with a hood, and Sabine had fixed a pair of small lights to his dome that made him look like a rather squat jawa.

He waved a manipulator arm that had been threaded through one of the sleeves and played a recording of Jawaese to complete the effect.

"Utinni!"

Hera came back after him looking more like Ahsoka than Ahsoka now did. Sabine had used some kind of insulation foam along with blue and white paint to give her a pair of striped montrals and a third lek, and with the yellow face paint Hera looked like a distant Tano cousin.

"Someone's going to need to warn me if we go through any low doorways," she cautioned.

Ahsoka laughed. "Just follow me – if I fit, you'll fit."

Sabine called Rex through next, telling him that his armour was dry, much to his apparent relief. Ezra realised that was why he wasn't wearing it; Sabine must have turned it into his costume.

The old clone took much less time to change than the others since he only had to perform the everyday task of donning his armour. There was no face paint or prosthetic limbs in his costume, and even Ezra was impressed at the change Sabine had made to the Phase II helmet.

"You make a pretty good Mandalorian," Zeb commented when he saw it.

"Not just any Mandalorian," Ahsoka said slowly, apparently recognising something in the blue and grey paint.

"Jango Fett," Kanan supplied, sounding surprised.

Rex nodded. "It's an honour to remember his spirit today."

The three of them seemed to share something for a moment that Ezra didn't understand. He'd never heard of Jango Fett, but the name apparently meant something to them.

Sabine stuck her head in and called Kanan through before Ezra could ask him about it.

Fortunately, Rex caught Ezra's confused look. "Jango Fett was the original template all us clones were created from," he explained. "He was a Mandalorian, even oversaw the training of the first few batches."

"So you're in costume even under the helmet?" Zeb joked.

Rex laughed. "I guess I am. Probably means I shouldn't take it off when we're out tonight."

"Hey, is that a jetpack?" Ezra asked, pointing to his back.

"Yeah, Sabine made it out of old junk from around the spaceport," Rex said, turning around proudly to show them. "Pretty good, right?"

"Does it work?"

"Of course it doesn't work," Zeb said scornfully, giving Ezra a playful shove.

Hera's gasp turned everyone's attention to the door.

"Oh."

Kanan was back, and he looked very different now. Sabine had painted him completely blue, and used more of the foam to give him a pair of rather stiff-looking lekku. She'd also given him some forehead ridges Ezra suspected were made out of painted scrap metal. He wasn't sure how she'd attached it all, but it looked very smooth.

Hera certainly seemed taken with Kanan's Rutian Twi’lek appearance.

"What do you think?" he asked, preening himself for them.

"You know, you make a very attractive Twi’lek," Hera murmured.

"Oh yeah?" Kanan drew one foam lek forward over his shoulder.

Behind him, Sabine rolled her eyes. "Zeb, Ezra, you're next."

"Both of us?" they said in unison.

"Yep, both of you." She turned, beckoning them with a hand. "Come on, you're gonna like this."

Ezra followed her to the crew quarters, his curiosity growing. Sabine’s room was even more of a mess than usual, with bits of costume material and splatters of paint everywhere. Next to her bed was something hanging under a sheet.

She caught Ezra looking and waved a hand in front of it. "No peeking. That’s my costume."

"What is it, a ghost?" Zeb joked.

"You'll see," she answered with a grin. "Now, Ezra, get on Zeb's shoulders."

"What? I have to carry him around?" the Lasat protested.

"Trust me on this." She started rummaging in one of the piles of material.

Still grumbling, Zeb hefted Ezra up. His shoulders were surprisingly soft, and reassuringly solid under Ezra's legs.

Sabine returned with what might have been a very large cloak. "Now, put this on."

With Sabine's help Ezra eased it over his head and put his arms through the armholes. Then he realised there was a second set lower down for Zeb. That was why it was so large – it went over both of them, the hem just brushing Zeb's clawed feet.

"And now, Ezra, put this mask on."

She passed it up to him, and Ezra realised what their joint costume was.

"We're a Besalisk!"

"I can't see a damn thing!" Zeb complained from below.

"I cut some eyeholes in the robe for you… Here!" Sabine adjusted something in the material and Zeb made a noise of triumph. "Now get out while I change!"

Navigating the doorway took a fair bit of co-ordination, and Zeb still didn't duck low enough. Ezra was fairly sure it was on purpose and grumbled about it as he rubbed his sore head, but the reaction they got when they returned to the common area was worth it – a series of gasps and impressed noises.

Hera made them twirl, and then adjusted Ezra's mask and the neck of the robe so that none of his skin was showing. She needed a boost from Kanan to reach, which was made complicated by both of their new foam limbs, but they managed just in time for the door to swish open a final time.

"I am S-4B1/N3, human-cyborg relations." Sabine spoke in a clipped monotone, and as Ezra turned to look he saw why.

Sabine had painted her armour shiny metallic silver. It was jarring at first, seeing the familiar shapes with none of the usual patterns and colours, but then the pieces all clicked together with the shapes painted on her helmet and it became clear what her costume was.

"Wow, if I didn't know you were a Human under there I'd really think you're a protocol droid!" Rex exclaimed.

"So what do you all think of your costumes?" Sabine asked them excitedly in her normal voice.

"Everyone loves them, Sabine," Hera told her.

"Beautiful work, as always," Kanan added.

Ahsoka smiled at them all. "I think we'd better get going if we're going to join the festivities."

And so, laughing and talking excitedly in their multicoloured costumes, the crew of the Ghost joined the people of Garel in celebrating Spirit's Night.

[seeuonadarknite]

smile for me — yandere kozume kenma x f. reader

warnings: slight angst, abuse, threatening, noncon, hickeys, oral, creampie, kidnapping

Kenma was always quite the outcast. He had a difficult time fitting in with the rest of his classmates, and preferred just being a face out in the crowd. In fact, the only real friend he maintained throughout junior high and high school was his upperclassman, Kuroo.

But their time together was cut short as Kuroo had to move on and graduate with the rest of his fellow third years. Once he left his life for good, Kenma's world turned black and white. Every bland day felt the exact same.

Wake up, attend class, go to practice, go home, sleep, and repeat. There wasn't any real reason for him to continue playing, seeing as his original reason for joining was to be there for his best friend. He was an adult now, having better things to do with his time.

Compared to his performance last year, he was mediocre at best. It was sad for his teammates to see him like this, but they couldn't blame him. He had no outside motivation and no reason to give it his all. At this rate, it'd probably be in his best interest to just give up and quit volleyball.

But his pessimism came to an abrupt end as soon as the doors to the gymnasium opened up on that rainy day during practice. Looking up from the dirty gym flooring, his eyes landed on your graceful figure. Not only were you a sight for sore eyes, but you brought colors back into his world once again.

“Everyone! This is [y/n]. She's going to be your manager for the year.” The coach introduced you to the rest of the team with a large grin covering his features. You gazed at each and every player on the court, briefly studying their features.

“Hi! I'm excited to be here with you guys and although I'm inexperienced in volleyball, I'll try my best to help you guys out in any way that I can!” There it was again. That damned smile you always seemed to wear. 

Your beaming smile lit up the dark cave Kenma had been hiding himself in. And he wanted it all to himself. However, it was as clear as day that Kenma wasn't the only one on his team looking forward to seeing you more.

—

His obsession started off innocent. Kenma was just a dependent person, and without Kuroo, he needed somebody else to rely on. At least that was what you told yourself.

At first he would just walk you to your homeroom class. It was on the way to his, so where was the harm in it?

But it gradually became overbearing. Not only would he walk you to homeroom and practice after school, but he soon began walking you home from school in order to “protect you from creeps.”

He followed you around like a lost puppy. An insecure, lost puppy. If you ever tried gently approaching the subject by telling him that you're alright on your own, he'd simply stare at you with glossy eyes and frown.

It somehow felt worse than him getting angry at you. You just felt pure guilt, and would end up apologizing for bringing it up.

Kenma knew what he was doing. With the advantage of his lack of friends, he could cling to you like a magnet without any questions asked.

From an outsider's perspective, it looked as if you had him wrapped around your little finger. But it was really Kenma who had the upper hand. It didn't take him long to analyze your overall personality and learn how to evoke certain emotions from you.

He was strategic, calm and collected. He knew he wasn't the kinda guy you'd go after, so he'd have to take extra measures in making you reliant on him. In a few months time, you'd be begging him to walk you to class and you'd be afraid of being without him.

It was perfect. As long as he played his cards right, everything would go to plan.

“[y/n]! I know this is sudden, but I've really enjoyed spending time with you during practice and I'd love to maybe.. take you out sometime?” Or not.

Kenma was on his way towards the front of the school where he'd normally meet you to walk home with you. He had planned on asking you if you'd like to hang out at the nearby arcade after school. However, he was beat to it. Right before his eyes was the sight of Lev asking you out on a date.

The situation at hand didn't dawn upon him until his vision was filled with the sight of you pressing a gentle kiss onto the lanky Russian's cheek. Sure, he was peeved at his teammate for asking out his crush. But your positive response was what had caused the crushing sensation in his heart. He thought he was going to be ill.

You stabbed him right in the back. That was supposed to be him. Was he not good enough for you? He crossed over so many bridges in order to earn your attention, yet it still wasn't enough. You'd never choose a guy like him.

He'd have to make you.

—

It had been a few days since you last interacted with Kenma. It was weird; you were used to him following you around wherever you went with his focused gaze constantly diverted towards his game. Sure, having him by your side 99% of the time was mildly inconvenient for you, but it was something you had grown used to.

It was nice having somebody that seemed to care about your feelings so deeply. While your bubbly attitude helped you in terms of popularity, it didn't quite fill the void. Not even the boy you had recently began seeing really seemed to deeply understand your emotions like Kenma did.

As much as you hated to admit it, you needed Kenma just as much as he needed you. That was why you were more than willing to walk him home for the first time in days after being asked.

Whilst you didn't understand why he took a break from walking around with you like this in the first place, you were glad to know that he was doing alright. You really did worry about his wellbeing during your time apart. Perhaps you had grown a soft spot for the introvert.

“Do you.. wanna come in?” Kenma kept his gaze on the sidewalk as he offered you to come over. As much as you wanted to agree and try and rekindle your friendship over pop drinks, you unfortunately already had plans for that evening. Lev promised he'd take you to see fireworks at a festival in town.

But you couldn't just flat out reject him. There was something wrong with him and you wanted to resolve things before goofing off with his teammate. Flashing him a small smile, you nodded your head and followed him into his vacant house.

As soon as the two of you slipped your shoes off, he led you into his living room and plopped himself down onto the couch. You could tell that he was nervous by the way that he was timidly fiddling his fingers and avoiding your eyes.

“I can stay for a few minutes. Lev promised he'd take me to see the fireworks in town, but I want to know what's been going on with you before I leave. I care about you, Kenma.” Were you joking? Kenma was about ready to be emotionally vulnerable with you and you decided to bring him up?

It seemed as if your words flipped a metaphorical switch in Kenma's brain. His immediate change in expression gave you chills. “No.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stood up from your spot on the couch and narrowed your eyes at the pudding head. “I'm sorry?” Your intuition was right. Something was wrong with him.

Following you in suit, Kenma stood up from his spot on the couch and began making slow strides towards you. For each step that he'd take towards you, you'd take a step back. By the time you had taken around five steps back, you ended up with your back pressed up against the living room wall. How cliche.

“Kenma, what's gotten into you? Are you okay?” Even during a time like this, you were still seemingly worried over the male's wellbeing. It was almost laughable.

Instead of lashing out, Kenma gazed at you with dulled eyes. Taking a few steps backwards, he took in a deep breath and prepared himself for his next plan of action. “Just.. follow me. I need to show you something.” Only you could understand Kenma when he murmured like this.

Something about the whole situation was off. The apathetic look in his eyes was unsettling to say the least, seeing as his eyes were clouded with frustration just a minute ago. But you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

So you took him up on his offer and allowed him to take the lead. He ended up bringing you upstairs into his room. Upon first glance, there was nothing that stood out. His bedroom was exactly how you expected it; organized and cleanly, yet not quite bland. The figurines and posters he had set up complimented the room nicely.

But it didn't make sense to you. Why was he so insistent on having you follow him up here? You easily could've continued your conversation inside of the living room, so what gave?

Click. Glancing over at the pudding head, you watched as he swiftly locked the door, rendering it difficult to exit and impossible to enter. Before you could question his actions, Kenma shakily pulled out a pocket knife from his pant’s pocket, slowly inching towards you with the weapon. “Get on the bed..” He almost seemed unsure of his actions.

But his reluctance quickly turned into assertiveness when you wouldn't oblige. “Now.” His arm stopped shaking. One step closer and the blade would be poking at your throat.

You reluctantly climbed onto the queen bed placed up against the wall. There was a window! Perhaps you could— “Don't even think about it.” His tone was dripping with uncharacteristic dominance as he spoke.

Climbing up onto the bed, he lightly nudged your shoulder, quietly ordering you to lay down. Of course you were going to listen, the guy had a weapon in his hand. As much as you wanted to question his actions, your body was in a complete state of shock. What happened to the innocent, introverted boy you once knew?

Noticing your shocked expression, Kenma sighed, crawling up in between your legs. “[y/n], you're all that I care about. I just want you to love me back.” His face heated up as he inched his head towards yours, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on your lips.

However, your reaction wasn't as positive as he wanted it to be. As soon as his plump lips pressed against yours, you immediately drew your head back, forgetting about the weapon in his hold. “Kenma! What has gotten into you? You know that I'm seeing Lev!” You couldn't be gentle with him anymore. There was a line you sure as hell weren't willing to cross with him.

Upon hearing the Russian's name, Kenma clenched his teeth, wearing an expression with pure lividness written all over it. Even after mustering up the courage to confess his feelings and to even kiss you, you still weren't content with him. There would always be somebody better and he'd always have to go through desperate measures just to earn your attention.

But as he gazed down at your petrified expression, he came to a realization. He didn't have to fight for your attention and idly stand by as you gave it to other people. He had the upper hand. He was in control here.

There wasn't a single damned person on this planet that could stop him from taking you away and ravaging your innocence. You belonged to him now. He was the only person you'd get to look at from now on and there was nothing you could do about it.

“You know.. I don't know why I thought you had a thing for me. I guess I was just being really, really stupid.” He gazed at you with a vacant expression. You almost felt bad for him. Almost. But your guilt was gone as quickly as it came once his fingers began peeling your shirt off. “But it doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter at all.”

Dropping your shirt onto the hardwood flooring of the room, Kenma gazed at your bare skin with pink tinting his cheeks. Your skin was like a blank canvas, and Kenma was ready to paint a masterpiece.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up at the feeling of his plump lips peppering gentle kisses across your collarbone. Sooner rather than later, he made his way up towards yours your nape and his soft kisses turned into nibbling. “Kenma. Please..” Your voice was strained as you begged him to stop.

But your pleas only egged him on as he began running his tongue over your neck, giving you a ticklish sensation from his wet appendage. He eventually attached his lips onto a certain spot on the side of your neck before sucking on the sensitive skin like a leech. It was your first real hickey and it ached. It felt like your skin was being sucked by a tiny vacuum.

The worst part about it all was that he ended up leaving a giant trail of hickeys from your neck to your chest. Your entire upper body was scattered with vibrant love bites.

Wiping his swollen lips off with the back of his hand, Kenma sat up and admired his work. Just the sight in itself caused metaphorical hearts to form in his eyes.

But it wasn't enough. The need to feel your soft skin against his own overruled Kenma's insecurities, as he reluctantly pulled his t-shirt over his head. Before he could begin dreading the thought of you laughing at his scrawny figure, he leaned down and stared at the bra that blockaded him from your breasts. That wouldn't do.

It was difficult to say the least for Kenma to try and figure out how to remove your bra, especially with you thrashing and squirming beneath him. Not being able to figure out something as simple as a bra clip was frustrating enough; you deliberately making it difficult just pushed him over the edge.

“Stop squirming or I'll cut you.” His small voice was stern as he scolded you for moving. You wanted to believe that his threat was empty, but his exasperated expression told you a different story.

After what felt like trying solve a jigsaw puzzle, he finally freed you from the death trap of your bra, eagerly throwing it off to the side. It didn't take long for him to place a hand on each of your breasts, kneading at your skin like cat.

Kenma felt like he was on a power trip as he fondled your breasts and squeezed your hardened nipples between his fingers. The way you sat idly whilst he leaned his head downwards and began swirling his tongue around each bud was absolutely exhilarating. You knew there was nothing you'd be able to do to defend yourself without hurting Kenma, and you weren't willing to make that sacrifice.

The fact that you still seemed to care more about his wellbeing than your own caused his heart to skip a beat. He really did have you wrapped around his finger.

As he sucked on your soft mounds, he trailed his hands down to the waistband of your shorts, tugging at the fabric. He soon diverted his attention towards your bottoms as he eagerly slid them down to your ankles, leaving you in nothing but the thin material of your panties.

Of course, it didn't take him long to grab onto the sides of your panties and pull them off as well. He had waited far too long for this moment and he wasn't going to waste a second of it.

Upon first glance, Kenma was mesmerized. He couldn't help but bask in your naked glory. The sight in itself was so entrancing that his body began moving on his own as leaned down on his stomach, bringing his face so close to your sensitive parts that you could feel his hot breath fanning your skin.

“Kenma.. Please don't do this.” It wouldn't hurt to try and stop him one last time, right? Even if you weren't officially a thing with Lev, it still felt wrong having another man's hands exploring your body like a sacred temple.

Unfortunately for you, Kenma was trapped in a lustful trance, leaving your pleas unheard. Without further notice, Kenma flicked his tongue against your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves. As he parted his lips to suck on the sensitive nub, you couldn’t help but unintentionally wrap your legs around his head, practically grinding yourself onto his face.

The sight of you almost bucking your hips into his face gave him a sudden burst of confidence. He plunged two fingers into your greedy hole, feeling his cock twitch at the feeling of your muscles tightening around his thin digits. God, the look on his face screamed shamelessness.

Your back arched as he pumped his fingers in and out of your drenched cunt, feeling a tight knot begin to form in your abdomen. Thinking rationally was out of the question; all you wanted was for him to finish you off and give you that sweet release.

Fortunately for you, his tongue seemed to swirl at just the right pace and his fingers seemed to curl at just the right angle as they rubbed up against your g-spot. It wasn’t long until your hips suddenly bucked upwards whilst you reached your end, feeling your walls clench around his digits and your juices coat his hand.

Although Kenma’s expression was as nonchalant as ever, you could just tell he felt triumphant by the glint in his eye. The look in his eye was akin to the way he’d look after defeating the final boss in a video game.

Dread sat deep in your stomach as you finally came to your senses, allowing your surroundings to truly dawn upon you. Realization struck you like a bolt lightning as your captor pulled his last articles of clothing off, allowing his erect cock to spring out.

The fact that he was a hell of a lot more hung than you pictured for a scrawny guy like him just added insult to injury. This could not be happening. “Stop looking at me like that.” How on earth he still managed to act timid was a mystery to you. This was all on his own accord. And only on his.

But his lustful desires overruled any possible guilt he could feel. If he was being real with himself, there wasn’t a guilty bone in his body. He needed to claim your body as his.

Prodding the tip of his throbbing cock at your entrance, Kenma gradually slipped himself inside of your needy cunt. His movements were painfully slow. The way he slowly pushed his length into your hole really allowed your insides to memorize the shape and form of his cock.

By the time that he had fully inserted himself inside of you, your back was arched and you were moaning like a pornstar. Before doing any movement, Kenma leaned downwards, catching your lips in a needy, desperate kiss. And although the kiss went unreturned, Kenma felt a surge of euphoria take over his senses.

Without further notice, the pudding reared his hips back, only to slam back into you, earning nothing but a choked moan from you in return. Kenma’s timid movements were nowhere to be seen. He thrusted into you at an unbearable pace.

If you weren’t so overridden with forbidden pleasure, you’d be shocked over how rough he was in bed. Was this really the same guy that didn’t have the guts to talk to you without looking up from his game? Where did this sudden burst of confidence come from?

Your internal questions went unanswered as Kenma used your hips to steady himself as he pumped his throbbing cock in and out of your cunt. You’d be shocked if the death grip he had on your curves didn’t end up leaving bruises.

After awkwardly trying to find a better angle, Kenma ended up hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he thrusted even deeper inside of you than before. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as the tip of his cock pressed up against your cervix with each rapid thrust.

Trailing his hand down south, Kenma placed his fingers onto your nub and began rubbing circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. It was all too much. You hated how much pleasure this man was giving you. But you couldn’t help your muscles from twitching as you suddenly arched your back, releasing your flow of juices onto Kenma’s cock.

The way your cunt hugged his cock had his eyes rolling backwards. It didn’t take him long to hold onto your hips with a vice like grip as he shot his load into your cunt, perfectly filling your womb with his thick, sticky fluids. By the time that he pulled his cock out of your aching hole, fluids were dripping down both of your legs, staining his bed sheets with cum.

As the both of you struggled to catch your breaths, the sound of popping rang throughout your ears. After pathetically scooting your trembling legs over to Kenma’s window, your heart shattered at the sight before you.

Fireworks were going off in the distance— the fireworks you promised you’d see with Lev. Wrapping his arms around your bare figure from behind, Kenma placed a chaste kiss below your ear before whispering bittersweet words.

“This is how things are meant to be. Come on, smile for me..”

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

🕯Anon said : Can I request headcanons with a Modern Au Teacher!Erwin and his s/o is a slightly famous artist like a painter that’s always in the basement. Maybe have a moment where the art teacher begs him to bring them to the school when they find out who Erwin is with. ? 🕯

Teacher!Erwin brings you, a famous painter, to work.

{ Erwin x Reader | tw:none | fluff, suggestive kiss | modern }

{ "Leisurely Sunday in the Villa Comunale in Naples" 1993 by Francesco Tammaro Born in 1939 }

Grassy fields surrounded the old big building as the trees undressing of their leaves onto the sidewalks, currently being swept away by the janitor.

Students were filling the halls, the sound of chatter and laughter following after. Outside in the yard, the whistle of the gym teacher could be heard following by heavy footsteps as the football team started their morning practice. Not long after the bell rang, the halls were empty again only for some crumbled papers and snack covers left behind.

"Pigs, all of them. There's a trashcan right there." Levi scrunched his nose at the smell of axe spray and deodorant near the trophy cases. "Tell Miche to spray his running monkeys with soap every once in a while."

"Now now, what got you so grumpy this early in the morning?" Adjusting the lab coat on their suit, Hange replied. "Oh cut the kids some slack, their big game is coming soon or something."

"And he's been implenting a more strick hygiene policy." Said Erwin, holding a plastic binder with a stack of exam papers, mostly marked red. "He's trying to convince the principal to ban deodorant during practice because it's making his nose burn."

Huffing in response, Levi crossed his arms. "Yeah because the principle will definitely listen to him after that whole sniffing people scandal- Hey! Brats, don't you have classes"

As Levi went to scold the two students currently hanging a handmade poster for the upcoming game on the wall, a couple of students came up to Hange, looking in a hurry as they explained the Science lab was locked and they're getting tired of sitting on their backpacks outside.

Soon after, Erwin too made his way to class.

Upon entering the room, the talking quieted down as the squeaking sound of people going back to their own desks followed. Walking upfront, Erwin dropped the binder on his desk beside the empty mug, a couple of groans filled the room as the students realised what it was.

"Mr.Smith, didn't we just take the test yesterday? Shouldn't you like...I don't know double check or something? Maybe you rushed grading them?" One student called from the back as some chuckles and agreement followed from the rest.

Taking the stacks of papers out, Erwin made his way between the students, giving each on their graded paper. "I don't know Connie, maybe you should've double checked your answers instead?"

The playful atmosphere of the classroom was cut short as the door slammed open, making everyone freeze in their seats, none other than the art teacher walked in.

Nile Dawk, current art teacher who fails at least a quarter of his class each year. Who has oh just the most swell relationship with Erwin and anyone can tell you that.

You see, Erwin adored art, both the classic and the modern. Nile admired history and knew just how each art era had its link to a historical event.

And the pair couldn't stand each other.

Crossing his arms, Nile said "Erwin, you have explaining to do." Before dropping a newly printed magazine onto his desk, 

Its cover, showing a brand new art museum that just finished construction and is hosting a lot of different paintings from unrecognised underground talents. 

"Nile, I think you misunderstand. I teach history, I'm not an architect." He said raising an eyebrow, before tilting his head as if he's deep in thought, "or do you want me to explain what a museum is?"

Sneering at his remark, Nile flipped through the pages till he reached a certain one. It depicted a one of the paintings that will be displayed in the museum, a portrait of a blond man with broad shoulders and sharp blue eyes seemingly distracted from reality by the book in his hand.

The soft glow of the fireplace next to the red armchair he sat in, adding a certain orange hue to his light complexion. His long fingers holding the leather book as a glass-stained maroon vase sat on the small table behind him, containing a single red rose.

It's clear from the details poured into his eyes and the shading for each strand of his hair that whoever made this painting, held a great affection for the man.

"Now Mr.history teacher, care to explain why your face is on this painting? By one of the few promising artists of this useless generation?."

Hushed murmurs filled the classroom as students took out their phones googling the name y/n, showing each other the said painting while staring with wide eyes at Erwin.

Rubbing his temple with his fingers, Erwin frowned at the scene the other was causing. Knowing very well it won't take long for this fire to spread, he decided to add more fuel to the flames.

He took a long breath, before telling the class to quiet down with a stern expression. 

"Mr.Dawk, are you really asking me why y/n, my love, the person I'm married to, paint me?" He said facing the other, looking directly into his eyes. "Maybe you should ask y/n instead if you're so insisting on forcing yourself in my private life."

Narrowing his eyes, Nile snorted. "You know what Erwin? Maybe I should.

And that's the story Erwin told you while having dinner that day.

He looks at you with pleading eyes as if to silently apologise for dragging you into this mess, his plate still half full and drink untouched.

Please reassure him that it's alright, you don't mind taking a day off to visit his work

He'll reach out to gently squeeze your hand in his, whispering a small thank you as his thumb rubs against your skin.

He also says he'll do the dishes that day, you can go rest and he will join you in bed after a while, a relieved smile on his face.

The next day, as he wakes up early like usual. He makes sure to wake you up with a kiss, stroking your face before murmuring "good morning" against your lips. 

He knows because of your work you don't wake up early, so he's really patient and understanding if you happen to get grumpy for a while.

Handing you a warm drink to help wake you up, he'll make sure you eat something before changing and heading out.

You're not surprised to find him already done and dressed himself.

Hair as perfect as usual.

On the drive to school, you'll feel the cool morning air against your skin while your head leans back into the seat, eyes fluttering shut.

You can have your mini nap, Erwin will make sure to wake you up when you arrive.

When arriving, he made sure to open the car door for you. The fresh air and green scenery surrounded you both.

When arriving at the teacher's lounge, you're almost surprised to see two people already there from how early it was.

The first was sitting on the old black couch near the window, his dirty blond bangs covering his eyes. The second you could see making tea on the other side of the room Where the kitchenware was.

Both of them glanced up when Erwin called their name, staring at the way he had an arm wrapped around your waist while introducing you.

It was Miche who came first, standing from the couch you noticed just how tall he was. Offering your hand for him to shake, only for him to pull you into a tight hug instead.

He pulled away, tapping his nose before a smile slowly formed on his face, nodding in approval

The second was Levi, who ignored your offered hand only to sip on his teacup, assessing you up and down.

Not too long after, a person with a messy ponytail and a colorful lab coat arrived.

They took one glance at you, then the matching wedding rings on yours and Erwins fingers before taking an immediate interest in you.

Hange asked questions faster than you can answer them, with sparkling eyes and a wide smile.

At the first sign of you being uncomfortable, it was Levi who stepped in to tell Hange to tone it down before apologizing to you.

And it was Miche who got you some snacks from the teacher's secret stash after.

You've heard stories and one sided phone calls about them from Erwin, yet it still didn't prepare you for actually meeting them.

While overwhelming at first, the more time you spent talking as Erwin reassuringly sat beside you, you noticed how genuinely interested they were.

Levi, while seemingly cold, was actually the most considerate and paid the most attention to you. He'd step in whenever things got too much and would be really polite despite having a colourful language. By the end of it he even made you some tea, something that seemed to surprise Erwin and the rest.

"It's just...he never trusted someone this quickly before."

Hange was genuinely interested in you, having researched you and your art beforehand. They really were eager to hear even the most boring details and were capable of understanding your way of thinking. They even gave you a small rubber frog they carried around in their pocket to hand out. It would've been cute wasn't for the fact immediately after they mentioned the real human skeleton they have pinned to the lab door.

"His name is bean! I've been actually investing into getting him a human heart for Valentine's day, but all the ones I've found so far were in jars."

The most quiet of them was actually Miche, although he'd smile at you whenever you looked his way. Despite his intimidating size you learned how harmless and easy going he is, the most chill out of the three. He did mention knowing Erwin for the longest time out of them, having been childhood friends even. He promised to tell you all the embarrassing secrets Erwin tried to erase from existence as he added his number on your phone.

"He ain't as proper as he looks, I got the dirt on him."

You saw Erwin's jaw tightening before he changed the subject quickly, giving the side eye to Miche who only smiled back.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, Erwin didn't leave your side for one minute and made sure to check on you constantly. 

He introduced you to the rest of the teachers and seemed only amused at any teasing he got from students passing by.

By the end of the day, as the sun began to set and the students already done with their clubs, you and Erwin had one final place to go.

The art classroom.

"Just one more thing before that" he told you, guiding you into an empty classroom.

You saw his desk, the mug you gifted him on father's day as a joke sat on his desk, several paper sketches you made were framed next to it.

It was his classroom, with only you and him, the door open.

He closed it.

You stood against his desk as he moved closer, arms circling you, not breaking eye contact.

"May I?" He whispered, licking his own lips.

As he got your permission, he pressed his lips against yours, arm stroking your back before pulling away after some seconds.

He rubbed your swollen bottom lip with his thumb, a small smile on his face before pulling away.

Your heart was still fluttering against your chest as you left the classroom, while Erwin seemed to be smiling at nothing with a slight curl to his lips, steps more lighter than before.

Right after that he took you to the art classroom. The smell of oil paint and sound of brushes scratching against paper filling the air.

Stepping inside, the scratching sound stopped as a certain black haired man stared at you, eyes wide and lips parted.

Disbelief clear in his face, Nile was quick to mask his emotions as he noticed the smugness Erwin was in.

"Nile, I'd like to introduce you to my lovely darling, y/n." There was a chipper to Erwin's voice as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. 

[spicymayo1983]

Hiya. For this story I decided to do a Scenes From A Marriage meets Star Wars mash up. Throughout the series I've been thinking about how I could turn it into a Poe Dameron story. I decided to depart from my usual Poe X reader pairings and make him the naughty one this time. Lol. A bad boy fighting his own demons despite the fact that he is the poster boy for the rebellion. The femme reader is in the process of a painful and complicated divorce with Poe after you caught him in a difficult to explain and extremely compromising position with a trusted friend.

The fact that you share a one year old son together makes everything even more painful.

You still love Poe but his actions killed a small part of you that day. Do you want your relationship to survive or is it really over for good?

Warnings, angst, smut, cheating, guy on guy action, not for anyone under 18.

Scene 1, The Betrayal

You remembered that fateful afternoon like it was yesterday. The sounds played bitterly in your head like a proverbial broken record.

You'd come home early that day, the baby hadn't been picked up from daycare just yet because you had decided to run some groceries home first.

As soon as you walked through the door you sensed something was off. Mainly due to the fact that you could hear the water running in the shower and your spouse, Poe Dameron, was supposedly at a high level meeting with other rebellion officers.

"Who's there?" You called out, your heart pounding in your chest as you slid open the bathroom door, unsure of who, or what, you would see behind it.

It was your husband Poe. And he was in the shower with your mutual friend Finn. The two were soaping each other up in between steamy kisses. You were stopped dead in your tracks by the sight of these two nude, beautiful men.

Admittedly it would have been an arousing scene if you weren't married to one of them.

Their rather large cocks were both fully erect. It was obvious that this was an act of foreplay as the two lovers prepared to have sex. Poe had his dark eyes closed from pleasure as Finn lovingly massaged shampoo into his gorgeous curly hair.

Poe turned around and began to passionately kiss Finn, judging by the affection and the way they looked at and touched each other this had been going on for a very long time.

They held onto each other tight and kissed with a special fire and intensity that said true love. It was such a shocking, mesmerizing scene that you were frozen in place and unable to turn away.

Shell shocked you wandered into the bedroom, where you sat down on the edge of the bed as you listened to the obscene moans of your husband as Finn made passionate love to him.

Present day

It was nearly 6 months after the incident. Without confronting Finn and Poe you simply left, taking your son and moving in with your best friend that same day.

Communication on a personal level had been spotty at best after that day. You arranged for Poe to see his son, who was now a strong, healthy one year old, several times a week but kept your own words with him personally to a minimum.

Poe loved that little boy and was a loving, doting father. The way his eyes, and entire face, lit up when he saw him, was simply beautiful.

The man that you had considered your soulmate was becoming a stranger to you, and it was devastating.

A small part of you still loved the man that betrayed you.

"Everything of yours is in that corner, I tried to carefully pack the fragile things but if something got broken I'm sorry".

"It's okay, it's just stuff".

You were back in the now nearly empty home that you shared with Poe to collect your belongings. You were sitting on the sofa, staring down at the floor as you mumbled those words, unable to look him in the face.

With a deep sigh Poe sat down next to you and said,

"Look at me".

"I can't". You replied quickly as you felt the tears well in your eyes as you continued to stare down at the floor.

"Look at me". Poe insisted weakly as he slipped his arm around you.

With a deep, disgusted groan you looked up, and into his beautiful deep brown eyes.

Poe eyes were slightly red and swollen from crying but he was still smiling slightly.

"It's nice to see you again, like this, just the two of us". Poe confessed, still smiling as the tears began to roll down his cheeks. "I've missed you, and having our son here all the time".

"You don't need to put on the charm with me". You explained with a smile and a bitter laugh. "Where are the papers? I want to sign them and be done".

"Is that all you care about? Signing the papers and walking out of my life forever?" Poe asked as his smile faded.

"To be brutally honest it is". You replied quickly, laughing at the nerve of his words. "If I never had to see you again I'd be thrilled, but unfortunately we live on the same base and share a son".

"Then do it, I won't stop you". Poe snapped angrily. "The papers are over there, on the kitchen counter".

Shakily you stood up and went into the kitchen. You grabbed the first pen you saw and bitterly started to flip through the official looking stack of documents.

Your blood was boiling, and everything looked like a blur due to your own festering rage.

"I need to sit down". You told him weakly as the room started to spin.

Poe stood up and immediately helped you back to the the living room, and back on the sofa. He handed you a glass of water as he lovingly kissed you on the forehead.

"Thanks". You told him weakly, smiling slightly.

"Take all the time you need". Poe said softly as he began to affectionately stroke your cheek.

His familiar touch felt comforting and you would be lying if you said that you didn't miss him.

"I'm not going to lie, being here again, with you, is stirring up all sorts of feelings, fuck". You told him with a weak laugh as you allowed him to continue to touch you.

"Can I kiss you?" Poe asked, smiling a little and looking deeply into your eyes.

"You may". You replied with a laugh.

You shared a passionate kiss with your estranged husband and to be perfectly honest it felt fantastic, and right.

Poe's hand started to creep up your leg and underneath your short skirt.

"Can I touch you?" He asked, massaging your thigh a little with his strong hand.

You could see his excitement through his tight pants, you were dealing with your own arousal when you looked him in the eyes and confessed,

"Whatever you do, don't stop".

Poe slipped his hand underneath your skirt and began to teasingly stroke you through your underwear. Finally he pushed your panties aside and began to caress your throbbing clit with his thumb, slipping two fingers gently inside of you as he did so.

Poe picked you up off of the sofa and carried you into the bedroom and placed you on what was once your marital bed.

After feverishly removing his own clothes his head immediately went between your spread legs and he began to pleasure you with his mouth.

With his tongue inside of your body you cried out his name as you experienced climax after climax. What Poe was doing to you felt wrong, and right, at the same time.

You were angry at yourself for enjoying it. You dug your nails hard into his back, drawing blood, when Poe got on top of you and penetrated your wet, throbbing hole with his thick, uncut cock.

"Fuck, it's tighter than I remembered". Poe confessed with a laugh and a groan as he started to pound into you.

"Damn you, it's bigger than I remembered". You told him with a laugh and a slight moan as you could feel his impressive girth stretching your wet walls.

Poe laughed a little at your frank confession as he continued to fuck you, grunting in ecstasy as he began to nibble on your neck.

With your bodies entwined you could feel Poe cum deep inside of you, filling you with liberal amounts of his warm seed.

Afterwards the two of you cuddled in bed, both of you were still in slight shock at what had happened.

"Aren't you going to clean up?" Poe asked, laughing a little and kissing you on the forehead.

"No, I enjoy the feeling of you inside of me". You confessed as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

"You still love me, don't you?" Poe asked, as he fought back his own tears.

His words made you freeze for a moment. You had no idea what to tell him.

End of scene 1

[iwalc]

Take me home

Hi people! I hope you are all well! Here is a something I've worked on for a while. Uhm, I realise now that I have never posted anything I've written on here before, so I am a little nervouse, ngl. I've been into a horrible writersblock for over a year now and this is the firt piece I've even been able to finish, which also makes me kind of nervouse. Either way, here it is. I hope you'll like it, and if you do, pls let me know.

Wordcount: around 2500.

I haven't really proofread anything, so if there are anything that's a bit off, then I apologise.

Damn it. I lost. Again. Here I am pissed drunk in a bar, far away from home. Or... what's supposed to be my home. Anger, love, confusion, roads that lead nowhere. As to lately, I don't know what has gotten into me. We all know life's a rollercoaster, ups and downs, downs and ups. This time I wasn't prepared. I've hit the ground. Hard. Everything happened so fast.

Almost a year ago I moved from home. It was sudden but necessary. I got into college in London and saw my opportunity to leave my abusive household. For years the mental abuse had just gradually gotten worse. Although I love my parents to bits, it was not a healthy surrounding and I needed a new perspective. I moved into a small apartment a few minutes from my college. The apartment wasn't really luxurious. But what could I expect with rent that cheap. It was alright. For me at least. Soon after the move classes started. The first few days were rough. A lot of new things, new people, new surroundings and I was all alone. You see, I am not a fan of new things. I'd rather be stuck with everything the same than have the winds of change knock everything I know to pieces. That's what I soon noticed. I didn't recognise anything anymore. Everything was to pieces. I've never felt so lost or scared.

After a while, these strange feelings of insecurity and fear decreased a bit. I started seeing people from my classes. We went to lunches, studied, went out on the weekends. For the first time in a long while it felt like my life was starting to get better. I felt alive, not only like I was just existing. I felt normal. I lived in a large city, in a tiny apartment, barely being able to pay rent, eating fish sticks and whatever else cheap food that Tesco happened to sell out, spending all money on weekends clubbing, listening to bands, laughing, getting shitfaced, having the time of my life.

On one of these nights, I met someone. Someone that would change my life drastically, and thank god it was for the better. It was an ordinary weekend. Me and the girls got ready for a night out, as usual. Only this time we were to meet Angela's boyfriend and his friends. Everyone was crazy excited. I tried to be, but as we have stated before, I'm not doing very well with breaking routines or new things, hence my increasing anxiety. To cut the chase, Angela's boyfriend had nice friends. Especially one of them. Brian. I don't really know what drew me to him. He just seemed so calm and safe. Somewhat on my level. The others, Angela, Jessica and Amanda, were all outgoing girls, finding it easy to talk and meet new people, having no trouble being in the centre of attention. I did not enjoy those types of things. I enjoyed letting others being in the centre of attention and them leading the way. I thrive in the shadows of other people and Brian seemed to be the same way. He was the quiet one, the one in the shadows. But he didn't seem shy. He sat comfortably in the booth, a beer in his hand, listening in to the conversations, taking part in them whenever it was needed. He seemed so calm, safe, secure. Something I craved. He was tall, green, welcoming eyes. Angela sat down beside her boyfriend, Roger, a blonde, seemingly handsome guy. Jessica was called over to Freddie, a dark-haired man, seemingly not afraid to stand in the centre of attention, he was very authentic and expressive. At first, I'd say he'd be a bitch, but he was so nice and welcoming. Such a sweetheart. Amanda sat down between Jessica and John and they got carried away with their conversation pretty quickly.

Me being me, trying to read the room, the new people, anxiously stood there, at the end of the table. My anxiety started to peak at this uncomfortable social situation. I had no idea what to do. I froze. The others seemed engulfed in their conversations and bonding and hadn't noticed my uncomfortable state. But Brian did. He seemed to understand and saw my anxiety. It was amazing how he just knew how to deal with it without scaring me off more. He redirected his attention towards where I stood. He calmly called my name. His voice. I've never ever felt more secure. After a few calls, and his hand gracing mine, I zoned in again and once again became aware of my surroundings. His touch. Warm. Soft. Peaceful. "Hey" he said softly, "would you like to sit down?" he asked as he carefully for a second took a hold of my hand, with me not showing any sign of uncomfort, he carefully guided me to sit down beside him, a soft smile gracing his lips. "I'm so sorry for zoning out like that, thank you" I quietly whispered. He once again took a soft hold of my hand, smiling, "Don't apologise, I understand". Something told me he did understand.

And ever since we met that night, at a pub in Kensington, he has made me feel at home. Safe. Comfortable. My pieces were glued together again. Brian was my everything. He still is. The last few months with him has been filled with such happiness and security I never ever thought I'd experience. I love him to bits. He understands me and my needs like no other. He knows how to take care of my anxiety attacks. He knows how to help me relax. He is my rock in a stormy ocean.

Until today. Earlier today, the pieces he glued together, fell apart, again. Today we moved in together. We figured it would help with our economic situation since we were both students. I mean, we love each other so why not. Well. This is why. I am once again falling apart. My pieces are flying away. I couldn't handle one more change. I've broken up with my family, moved away from home, started college, all in the period of 6 months. It was too much. And now this. I love him. But my world has been picked apart once more.

The whole day I've been feeling my anxiety increasing. Usually, Brian notices or I feel comfortable telling him, but this time I noticed how excited he was, I didn't want to hurt him with my bullshit. It's horrible feeling yourself falling apart but not be able to do anything about it. It was 7 pm and Brian was unpacking things in the living room while I sat on the sofa trying not to lose it. He kept talking about how happy he was and how this was a dream of his. How excited he was to share his life with me, to love me. All the while he was so happy babbling away, I was freaking out. To say the least.

My anxiety kept increasing and now I couldn't handle it anymore. I felt my breathing quickening, my hands and legs started to shake and tears started to stream down my eyes. I couldn't do this. What have I done? "Love? What do you think hanging this here?" Brian asked excitedly holding up a poster on the wall. I couldn't breathe. "Love?" Brian asked before he turned around. My knees were up to my chin, hands holding them in place, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down my eyes. Brian was shocked to see me in this state of mind but wasted no time. He hurried up to me on the sofa. He sat down on his knees in front of me, his hands on my cheeks. "Love, look at me" he pleaded with a calm voice. "Love" he said, more firmly this time. "Shh you're okay, love, I got you" he said as I lifted my head to look at him. I was frightened. His beautiful, angelic face that earlier always brought me peace and comfort were now triggering my anxiety. I ran. I ran out of the apartment, down the staircase and out of the building. Before leaving the building I heard Brian calling my name, running after me.

That's where I am right now. I ran to a pub, the pub we met at. I'm drunk. Anger, love, confusion, roads that lead nowhere. As to lately, I don't know what has gotten into me. We all know life's a rollercoaster, ups and downs, downs and ups. This time I wasn't prepared. I've hit the ground. Hard. Everything happened so fast. Wrapped up so consumed by all this confusion. With every thought I down a beer. "Could I get another one pls?" I slurred to the bartender. But no. No way I was going to drink more tonight. I don't know if it was intentional or not to go to the only pub in London where I'm recognisable since we go there all the time. Maybe I wanted to be found. The bartender declined and then went through a doorway to the kitchen. I heard him talking on the phone. He was talking about me. More than that I couldn't recognise and soon after my head hit the table and I was out.

I woke up in a bed. It took some time to locate where I was, but soon I noticed I was in our apartment. My head was killing me along with the anxiety and guilt. What the hell happened. I had no idea.

Soon enough Brian entered the room. I couldn't do anything. I barely dared to look at him. He looked exhausted. And there was something else, it shocked me that I couldn't decipher what it was.

"Hi" he calmly said as he strode to my side of the bed and set down a glass of water and aspirin.

"Hi" I vaguely answered.

The silence took over the room. I barely dared to move but did to take my aspirin and drink some well-needed water. Not letting my eyes of Brian, I watched as his tall body sat down on the side of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" he calmly asked as his hand strode closer to me but he didn't dare to touch me, probably confused by my signals yesterday.

I met him halfway and took a hold of his large and warm hand. As soon as he felt my hand on his he held mine tighter and let out a breath I didn't know he was holding.

"I don't know how to answer that" you answered honestly.

Brian hummed and stroked my hand with his thumb, looking at our locked hands.

"You scared me" he whispered. Tears threatening to leave his eyes.

That hurt.

"I'm so sorry" I panicked and sat up, only to regret it as my head almost pounded you dead. "Ow," I winced as my free hand went to hold my forehead.

"Careful" Brian voiced as calmly as ever. His eyes scanned around the room, trying to muster the courage for what he was to say next. He cleared his throat. "Can we talk about what happened?" he almost whispered, taking my hand in both of his, stroking it with his thumbs.

Of course, he wants to talk about it. There is nothing strange about that. However, I rather not. What am I supposed to say? That I panicked, that his face suddenly made me uneasy? That... I don't know. Suddenly I felt his hand upon my cheek. I must've zoned out.

"hey, it's alright"

I let out a loud sigh, catching Brians attention. "Brian, it is not alright. I'm a mess. What I did wasn't alright." Tears were now streaming down my cheeks. Burning like fire. Brians weight shifted as he crawled onto the bed, laying down behind me, embracing me like never before. His arms around my aching stomach and my arms. His leg over mine. His chin in the crook of my neck, whispering calming sentences while my tears shook my body. His body warming mine. It's always so calming.

How can I be so damn lucky? I ran away from home, from my love, I got piss drunk at a pub, and still, he took me home, taking care of me, holding me, loving me like no other. It's suffocating in the best way.

The tears calmed down. "Brian, I want to come home", I sniffed, crampingly grabbing onto his large, warm hand. "I'm hurting. I'm so lost. Confused. Angry." the tears were now rapidly streaming down my face again as I poured my aching heart out. "I really had to get away from home to live my life, to get better. When I first got here I felt cheated. It was so hard and I've never been worse my whole life. I've never felt more alone, left out, beaten up." I kept rambling on. "I know, love, I know." Brian cooed into my neck, stroking my arm. "But you don't Brian. I can't seem to find my way home. I'm so lost." I said as tears wrecked my body. Brian, holding me, securing me, hushing me, whispering sweet things. "I don't even know how you put up with me. I'm so broken. I came to you with a broken faith, and you gave me more than a hand to hold." The first time I voiced my fear and insecurity about how Brian feel about me. I'm so scared he'll leave me. He's all I've got. "Love, shh, It's ok. Hey, listen to me." he started as he turned me so I could look at him. "I understand that you feel like you're lost, I really do. Everything you've ever known has changed in less than a year. Space will eventually make it better, time will make it heal, and soon enough you won't feel like you're haunted. You won't be lost forever!" He praised as his hand stroked my cheek. Emphasizing the last sentence. I won't be lost forever.

"I'm so scared Brian"

"I know baby" he embraced me, "I know."

"I need you, Brian, don't leave me please, you're all I've got." I cried into his chest.

"Baby I won't. I never could. I love you! I will hold you. I will take you home. I'll be here every step of the way. I'll be your home." He said as my body once more broke down in tears.

I know there must be somewhere better because he always takes me there. Maybe I've found my home. I think he's my home.

[thatonecitykid]

I bet on Losing

Hey everyone! Sorry this is so sad.. was already crying so might as well make everyone else cry.This takes place after Endgame but during the same time as Far From Home. Listen to "I Bet on Losing Dogs" by Mitski for the full experience. Word Count: 2517. Have fun angels :)

Peter had finally left for his class trip, Pepper and Morgan had gone to spend their summer in Malibu, the remaining avengers were either in space or had completely disappeared from your life. Here you were after five years of your life had evaporated, and after all this time you had to play your fathers role for all the remaining avengers. You hadn't had the opportunity to cry when you first learned about what had happened. You couldn't cry at the funeral, not because you did not want to, but because you felt as if your father wouldn't want to see it. No one wanted to leave you alone, but after months of trying to dig some type of emotion out of you they had assumed that the death and slow disappearance of your makeshift avenger family had unaffected you.

You finally had the opportunity to exist alone. You had also finally mustered up the strength to visit secluded cabin your father had lived in for the last five years of his life. Although you had been given the keys immediately after the funeral, something about visiting the area made you feel uneasy. Not necessarily creeped out but just as if you did not belong, after all it was something your father invested in after you had already blipped away for several months.

You drove up to the cabin alone, slowly unlocking the door as if to not start or whoever may be inside. Before even entering the cabin, it looks clean, you assume that Pepper has had people cleaning constantly to maintain the cabin. It made sense, it was something she's cherished. You stepped into the cabin slowly and began to look around. The walls were lined with framed pictures of Morgan, family pictures of Pepper, your dad, and Morgan, and random posters and vintage albums. Although you were not the one to complain about it, having no evidence of your existence in the main areas of the home caused your heart dropped. As you wandered through the kitchen and the main family room, there is no evidence of Tony's life prior to the blip, just a somewhat normal family of three.

You decide to wander to the basement area, leaving the office and bedroom spaces upstairs for later. There was a large sitting area that you assumed they watched movies in. There was also a playroom painted pink featuring all sorts of gadgets very similar to those you grew up with that Tony had made for you. Towards the back hall of the basement, it was a glass door to your father's workshop area. You open the door gently and made your way in.

Despite looking like somewhat of a mess, you knew that behind the madness there was a method. You could tell that although your dad left in a hurry, things were placed in specific spots very similarly to how he did in every other one of his workshops. You walked towards his swiveling chair, noticing a metal box with a button on the worktable. You press the button and jump back as a life-size hologram of your father appeared in the room. He began

"Hi Pepper. My love, my muse, my boss. If you are listening to this then I did the one thing you have always told me not to do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the worry I've put you through, and I am sorry for taking myself away from you. I was a gift wasn't I. You've already seen another version of this message, but it never hurts to see your face again my darling."

The tears in your eyes begin to form, not because you had not expected to see your father. At this point you had already seen the message he had left after the funeral; It was only really meant for Pepper and Morgan, never addressing you.. At the funeral you refused to enter the cabin but as you watched the message while standing outside, Happy looked over at you with remorse but you kept a straight face again. Who were you to complain at your dead dad's funeral? Yet this message radiated the same energy.

As the second portion of the message began to play tears began to fall faster. It almost feels like an out of body, sure your dad had taken up different kids during your time growing up, but this message made you feel as If you had been completely replaced. Although it felt like a dumb theory there was no evidence as to your existence prior to Morgan.

"Hello my little scientist. How's my favorite person. Daddy is really sorry I can't be there right now. Be a trooper and hug you mom for me real quick. Now you must be surprised because I'm supposed to be the strongest dad in the world but let me tell you kid, sometimes crazy things happen when put on the ironman helmet. My little minion I love you 3000. My love for you is infinite. You have been and will forever be daddy's best friend."

Here you were crying over a child who had also lost her father, filled with jealousy over the fact that you father had chosen her and failed to consider your return but had prepared for Peter's return, still had projects waiting for Harley, and had in fact set up a stable plan for Morgan's future. At this point you were sobbing, what had all felt like a bad nightmare and jumping to conclusions had started to feel way too real. This emotion was even stronger than when you watched footage from your father suit as the snap happened, this emotion felt like a stab in the back.

Maybe he never loved me.

You tried to collect yourself but were still sobbing when the holographic figure of you father disappeared. You might as well finish the house tour before leaving. The upstairs portion of the house featured Tony and Pepper's room, Morgan's room and two other doors. The main bedroom was tidy and organized, with a closet full of clothes that both Pepper and your dad had left. You walked into Morgan's room and did a quick look around, not wanting to invade child space. Returning to the hallway you opened the door to your father's office. Inside there was a rather simple with a desk, a leather chair, and two matching chairs. The plants in the room were growing well, meaning someone still came to water them. There were a few pictures on the wall, including Peter's Stark internship picture, and a random picture you took of the original Avengers after their first New York battle. On the desk there was another metal box similar to that in the workpace. You argued whether or not you wanted to potentially break your heart more before giving in, siting in the leather seat and pressing the button.

A slim beam of light scanned over your face, confirming your identity, and the box began to play. To say you were shocked is an understatement, as your father's hologram appeared across the desk sitting in one of the matching chairs.

"Hello Munchkin. If you've found this box, then I just going to have to accept that I've failed you. You've been gone for five years and regret every moment leading up to when you snapped away. You really did want to come to space with me, and honestly you would have been helpful, but I don't think I could see you Blip away and have the will to continue. That being said because I am already admitting I was wrong, I should not have had your suit take you to the bunker room, where you eventually snapped away alone. I regret that decision y constantly. On another note, I'm sorry I didn't hug you as soon as you got back, I clearly I cannot really hug anyone."

You had finally given up on holding in their tears. You didn't have to be strong in front of your dad. He had always held you when you cried and this time he couldn't. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but nothing felt the same.

"I hope you are crying, because if I'm crying alone during this part, I'll be embarrassed, his image continued as it stood up and leaned against the back of the chair. Munch I know you've probably walked around this house and have found no evidence of yourself. You've probably beat yourself up about how much I love Morgan, but think about it. The amount of time I've spent these last 5 years essentially idolizing you would not have been good for her to experience. "

You rose quickly from the chair. Not even one damn picture?

"Now I know you're wondering not even a single picture. Pick up the projector box and follow me ."

You did as the digital version of your father told you and followed it back into the hallway.

"Put the box down and put your hand on the center of the door. "

This activated a scanner which opened up the door to the room. As you walked in you recognized that this was an exact replica of your room back in the Malibu house. You were still a kid when the original house was blown to pieces but somehow everything was exactly as you remembered it. As you walked further into the room you noticed the large screens, placed like picture frames, which played videos and pictures of you and your dad throughout the years.

Your father walked towards the center of the room, bounded by how far the projector was.

"You see kid, me and you have somewhat the same grieving styles. I have a feeling you didn't cry at the funeral. I have a feeling you haven't cried, at least in a way that someone else could have noticed. You take after me in that sense."

The hologram started to sniffle, your dad had actually started crying when recording this. You really wanted to hug him, the reality of his death hurt even more. You had finally allowed yourself to start grieving.

"Look, I know you used to listen to the song about betting on losing dogs when you wanted to cry, but that does not apply to you at all. You may have gotten a more complicated stick of life, but I can tell ya, this does not need to be your villain origin story. From the first day I took you home I could tell you were a fighter, but I need you to feel as if its ok to cry. I've spent hours on this floor in shambles wishing you were here. The small things that Morgan does that remind me of you throw me into sadness pools constantly. You are my motivating force. I really hope you allow yourself to cry about it so that you can continue in life. I don't think I can stand in this room for any longer before I cannot speak at all, so please take the projector back to my office. "

As you lifted the projector you thought about how much this must have hurt your father to record. Maybe he didn't want anyone to encounter this box except for you. As you placed the box on the desk, you sat back into the leather chair as your father's holograph sat across from you.

"On a different note, you are probably wondering why I seemed to set up a game plan for everyone but you. With Morgan I just made sure she had a comfortable, who am I kidding, lavish funding behind her. I can't dictate what a five-year-old should do. For Harley you know that I've always looked out for him, a position in Stark industries honestly should not have surprised you. Peter is what I feel most conflicted about. I'm not setting him up to become the next Ironman, I'm setting him up to become the greatest version of Spiderman he can be. Well, I know the media is probably going to take it and run having known that Spiderman and Ironman we're friends at some point, but I'm really giving you the biggest responsibility. I don't expect you to live in my shadow, I want you to outgrow it. I think you might be surprised to see everything that I left you, besides Stark industries itself. That's a conversation for another day."

"I know I've been speaking for quite a while, but my baby, my baby yes I called you that. I know how much this has all affected you, and I'm sorry, I am completely sorry and do take full fault for it all. But now because we cannot change the past, let's focus on the present. I want you to know that I loved you with my entire being. I'm not sure how to emphasize this enough but I do want you to know you were cared for, you were loved, and you were thought about for every minute. If you don't get to see this message, and I'm already gone, that means this message will never have to play for anyone. Either I found you and I've given you a new message, or I'm rolling in my grave. Either way my darling I cannot emphasize how much I love you. I do hope for the best for. Before I have to go, I want to see you smile. Sure, I can't physically see it right now, but I can imagine it."

As the recording choked out that last sentence, you flashed a weak smile. A face sticky with all the tears that you have been crying.

Now I know you need to get back home, but when you get back to the city, stop by the shawarma place and get something to eat. you gotta eat Darling. Also don't act like you don't like Peter, you two idiots keep pushing each other away in cannot take it. Now I'm gonna say goodbye mini me. Watch over Pepper and Morgan for me, okay? I love you."

You took one final sweep of the house before heading back to your car. You had cried so much that your eyes physical hurt. You almost felt a sense of comfort having finally released some of the pent-up emotion. As you drove towards the city and towards the Shawarma place you almost felt kind of sad, knowing that all of your friends were in a foreign country. Yet you still felt as if your best friend, your Dad was watching over you. And in all reality that felt as if it was the only thing that mattered.

[annabethlestrange]

RANKED: STUDIO GHIBLI MOVIES (rating from highest to lowest)

Check caption on every photo to check synopsis and review. 📷 I'm so happy! I've managed to finish 24 Ghibli Movies. Yay! Achievement unlock! I want to rewatch some of their movies. Every movie feels nostalgic, with good vibes, and a whimsical story! Highly recommended! (my highest rating is 5 stars and the lowest would be 1 star)

(set1 10photos)

PONYO 2008 ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆ 𝄢 One of my top Ghibli favorite movies of all time.ü 📷 Simple, adorable, and very charming characters.📷📷 • WELCOME TO A WORLD WHERE ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE. The son of a sailor, 5-year old Sosuke lives a quiet life on an oceanside cliff with his mother Lisa. One fateful day, he finds a beautiful goldfish trapped in a bottle on the beach and upon rescuing her, names her Ponyo. But she is no ordinary goldfish. The daughter of a masterful wizard and a sea goddess, Ponyo uses her father’s magic to transform herself into a young girl and quickly falls in love with Sosuke, but the use of such powerful sorcery causes a dangerous imbalance in the world. As the moon steadily draws nearer to the earth and Ponyo’s father sends the ocean’s mighty waves to find his daughter, the two children embark on an adventure of a lifetime to save the world and fulfill Ponyo’s dreams of becoming human.

Added another movie poster. Coz why not? 📷

Spirited Away 2001 ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆ 𝄢 One of the best-animated films. I can't explain how I feel. It seems dramatic AF, but damnnnn... I wish that there's a second part. It's a bittersweet ending. I love it. One of the best movies I've watched this year. WHY THE HELL DID I WAIT FOR TOO LONG?! 📷📷📷 Highly recommended! 📷 • A young girl, Chihiro, becomes trapped in a strange new world of spirits. When her parents undergo a mysterious transformation, she must call upon the courage she never knew she had to free her family.

The Cat Returns 2002 ⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆ 𝄢 "Always believe in yourself." -Baron Humbert Von Gikkingen One of my favorites! 📷📷 I love the characters! Specially Muta and The Baron. I enjoyed this so much. To be honest I'm not a cat person. I'm more of a dog person. But I find it entertaining. Who doesn't want to marry The Baron?! 📷📷 As always, magical and enjoyable watch. Highly recommended! • IT’S NOT SO BAD BEING A CAT, NOW IS IT? Haru, a schoolgirl bored by her ordinary routine, saves the life of an unusual cat and suddenly her world is transformed beyond anything she ever imagined. The Cat King rewards her good deed with a flurry of presents, including a very shocking proposal of marriage to his son! Haru embarks on an unexpected journey to the Kingdom of Cats where her eyes are opened to a whole other world.

My Neighbor Totoro 1988 4.5 ★ 𝄢 Sana all may kaybigan like Totoro.ü 📷📷 • Two sisters move to the country with their father in order to be closer to their hospitalized mother and discover the surrounding trees are inhabited by Totoros, magical spirits of the forest. When the youngest runs away from home, the older sister seeks help from the spirits to find her.

When Marnie Was There 2014 4.5 ★ 𝄢 This is a slow burn for me. First 45 mins. of the film was dragging. I almost give up. But I'm glad I didn't. It was beautifully made. Well-crafted characters. And OH WHAT A F*UCKING TWIST!!! That ending! 📷 OMG! I DIDN'T SEE IT COMING... I was so surprised, that I cried. I love the storyline and the plot. I hope that everyone can watch this at least once in their lifetime. 📷 HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. • PROMISE WE’LL REMAIN A SECRET, FOREVER. Upon being sent to live with relatives in the countryside due to an illness, an emotionally distant adolescent girl becomes obsessed with an abandoned mansion and infatuated with a girl who lives there—a girl who may or may not be real.

Castle in the sky 1986 ★★★★ 𝄢 Very pure. Enjoyable. Just like my best friend told me for every Ghibli movie, IT'S MAGICAL AND WHIMSICAL. 📷 The characters are unforgettable. Love the ending when the pirates helped Pazu and Sheeta. 📷📷 • HAUNTING AND BRILLIANT! A young boy and a girl with a magic crystal must race against pirates and foreign agents in a search for a legendary floating castle.

Howl’s Moving Castle 2004 ★★★★ 𝄢 TIMELESS.ü I love TURNIP, Markl and Calcifer! 📷 • THE TWO LIVED THERE When Sophie, a shy young woman, is cursed with an old body by a spiteful witch, her only chance of breaking the spell lies with a self-indulgent yet insecure young wizard and his companions in his legged, walking castle.

From Up on Poppy Hill 2011 ★★★★ 𝄢 Beautifully created. Poetic. The characters are well developed. I love it. Quite anxious about where the story will go. I'm happy with the ending.ü 📷📷 • I LOOK UP AS I WALK… A group of Yokohama students fights to save their school’s clubhouse from the wrecking ball during preparations for the 1964 Tokyo Olympic Games. While working there, Umi and Shun gradually attract each other but face a sudden trial. Even so, they keep going without fleeing the difficulties of reality.

Only Yesterday 1991 ★★★★ 𝄢 "If today's no good, you'll have tomorrow. If tomorrow's no good, you'll have the next day." Memories of my own childhood flood back while watching this. It reflects on our own youthful days. I love it. I personally love Toshio's character. And omg that ending, my heart! 📷 📷 • I’M GOING ON A TRIP WITH ME It’s 1982, and Taeko is 27 years old, unmarried, and has lived her whole life in Tokyo. She decides to visit her family in the countryside, and as the train travels through the night, memories flood back of her younger years: the first immature stirrings of romance, the onset of puberty, and the frustrations of math and boys. At the station, she is met by young farmer Toshio, and the encounters with him begin to reconnect her to forgotten longings. In lyrical switches between the present and the past, Taeko contemplates the arc of her life, and wonders if she has been true to the dreams of her childhood self.

[local80smotel]

All knowing love

pairing; V x Trans Man! Reader

summary; being under V's loving and watchful eye.

requested; Anonymous

rating; T

warnings; transphobia, parental abuse (physical), hints of suicide (but never outright said)

word count; 2185

A/N; this isn't wasn't the fluffiest thing I could write but once talking to my trans boyfriend I couldn't help but feel having a bit of angst was acceptable.

When Y/N was still just a child, he knew something was off about him. Not something "bad" or "wrong" that people would call this feeling when he'd tell them. "It's just a phase" was a comment that was thrown at them mostly by their parents when they were still in their teens, just before high Chancellor Sutler was ever in the eye of politics. Oh, how those days would seem like a humid southern summer walk compared to when Sutler came into the picture. The transphobia he had experienced grew like how weeds grow in futile soil.

The comments like "You're confused" slowly started to warp into something more demeaning to the boy as the Chancellor candidate's toxic grip on the people of England started to squeeze any "unwanted" life out of it. "Undesirable" life as he would call it. When hair was cut after Sutler was elected, there weren't small arguments anymore that would be fixed when he'd be asked if he were hungry and wanted to eat supper with them. It became violent and unlike the people who had raised him for the last 15 years. Having handfuls of freshly cut hair be ripped out because his mother was holding him by his scalp just to yell in his face how much of a monster he was broke his heart.

Was it fear that caused this? Were they scared of losing their only child as many other families had? Was their bundle of joy in their life really an undesirable and the cause of this virus outbreak? Just why? He'd ask himself that as he was packing his bags in preparation to leave the family home for good.

Three long years had passed and at the ripe age of 18, he moved out into the busy streets of London. A small pit in his stomach began to form as the sickening feeling came back. The cause of it was from one simple but yet complex question; could he survive in this fascist regime? Sadness also fueled this emotional fire, sadness from knowing he'd have to use so many things he knew was wrong and didn't describe him truthfully just so he could get a place to come to when curfew hit; The name that was long dead to him the second it was given to him and female pronouns. He'd be signing his own death certificate if he put Y/N instead of his deadname on his application to rent.

They'd look it up and find no Y/N L/N in England and call the police on him in a split second. Shivers ran down his spine as he imagined what would happen to him if that became a reality. No one knew what happened when you were deemed "undesired" but everyone after having Sulter for three years knew that they would go missing and would be never seen of or heard from again. You were just wiped off the face of the Earth.

Y/N lucky had enough money saved from working in retail for the past 2 years to get a small apartment. When he was finally given the keys to the place he couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least in this tiny space, he could be his true self without shaking in fear as he had in his past while being stuck in his parents' home. The next three years were some of the worse when it came to dysphoria. Being forced to go to work almost every day and be called ma'am or miss and be deadnamed constantly damaged his mental health to the point it felt easier just to be open with his identity.

Anything would be better than being forced to hide in this shell of terror. Nights of panic attacks and sobbing that sounded like a wounded animal as he laid on the rotten wooden floor became a routine. On the morning of his 21st birthday, he woke up in the late afternoon. There was no panic in him when he realized he was late for work, how could someone care when this would be their last day on Earth?

With scissors in his hand, he grabbed his hair and began to chop it off sloppily but that didn't matter to him as long as it was finally short like it was when he was a child, and that was enough for him. The thought that when the police would see him, that'd see a man instead of what society had deemed him brought a smile to the young adult. The feeling of freedom pumped through his veins as he went on with his day. It felt odd but refreshing to feel the cold air from his AC on his neck as he fixed himself some bacon and eggs. It wasn't the fanciest thing someone could eat on this day, but it was enough for him.

Around ten AM he left his flat, walking with newfound confidence due to his hair and now his wrapped chest. He had heard from the grapevine that wrapping one's chest in medical bandages could cause serious damage like nerve loss but one this final day he decided to risk it so he could pass in normal daily life. Being called sir by ticket seller at the movies brought him so much joy as he grabbed his "Count of Monte Cristo" tickets and wished them a good day as he went deeper into the movie theater to find theater four to watch the movie. Y/N was somewhat surprised to see only one other person in the audience. Sure, he was 10 minutes late but this was a classic film that was finally being let out of the vault to be watched again! Nevertheless, the man sat down a few rows in front of the figure, settling down into the uncomfortable chair.

“I didn't expect you to come.”

He could tell from how the figure's words were muffled that they were wearing a mask. Y/N turned to them with a confused look on their face.

“Excused me?” Y/N asked but their confusion just deepened as he saw that the figure was wearing.

A Guy Fawkes mask with a matching hat while wearing pitch-black clothing. The man under the mask chuckled as they stood up, Y/N couldn't help but be slightly intimidated by the height of this masked figure.

“I should have done this first so you wouldn't be so perplexed, ” he cleared his throat as began monologing, using many words that start with the letter V in his speech which in turn slightly impressed the 21-year-old.

“But you can simply call me V.”

"V" said while taking a bow

Y/N couldn't help but snicker at this display of some kind of knightship which in turn had V cocked his head in slight confusion on what could be so funny

“Well, Mr. V, might I ask why you're here alone?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but as I am apparently on a tight schedule I won't elaborate”

“Tight sch-” the man interrupted them by placing his leather glove covered finger on top of their lips

“Yes, very much tight schedule as I only have 2 hours till your self made demise am I correct?”

He was blown away at the fact this random stranger knew of his most shameful plan, but the feeling of shock was soon replaced with anger. This creep was stalking me! He thought as he slapped away the masked man, getting up from his chair as he did so.

“You have some right talking to me like that!” he yelled as he started to march away from them.

V reached out and grabbed their hair in a somewhat gentle way

“Y/N wait please, ” he sighed as Y/N stopped who's face was twisted in bitterness “I understand how you feel Y/N, I truly do. I was labeled an undesirable so please don't think that I've been keeping an eye on you in for any other reason than just to keep you safe.”

When he said this Y/N rage seemed to melt away slowly. How was he able to survive being an undesirable? So many questions filled the male's head but the only word he could speak was

“How?”

V let go of his hair as he straightened his posture “If you come with me I'll tell you.”

The more sensible side of the man told him to run away from this masked freak and enjoy what little time you had left in peace but something stopped him. After a moment of silence, he nodded to V's pleasure. He took the 21-year old by the hand and lead them to the back exit. The two walked down the alley and what drew Y/N's eye other than the 6'3 black mass was the posters. Every single one they pasted seemed to have a V cut into them.

He broke the long silence with another question “Did you mark those posters?”

“Does a raven speak?”

“But why?”

V didn't stop walking but he could feel his eyes on him. For being an undesirable he sure seems fine being out after curfew Y/N thought as they waited for the answer.

“The people deserve a symbol. Something to get them through this.”

He opened his mouth to ask what he meant by that but quickly shut it once the meanings of the words came to mind. Maybe he wasn't this creep, more like this country's guardian angel that would save them all from high Chancellor Sutler. It didn't take long for him to reach what Y/N guessed as V's home which turned out to be an abandoned Victoria station. Y/N looked over at him with an eyebrow raised as V opened the hatch that kept the station locked to the public who had originally thought it was abandoned. V turned back to the man and gave him his hand simply saying "follow me, sir Y/N".

Once V was given the curious man's hand he rubbed his thumb over their knuckles before tenderly pulling them inside. He held the hand as they walked in the pitch black, guiding them until they found a giant door which to Y/N's touch felt like it had complex carvings in them. When the masked man opened the door Y/N couldn't help but wince as golden light hit his E/C eyes that had just gotten used to the dark. He had expected V to let go of his hand once they reached his "lair" but he didn't. Oh, what a perplexing and mysterious man he was.

Y/N would be lying if he said his face wasn't blushing at this moment in time. V led them deeper into his beautiful home until both of them to were behind his couch which was black leather. In front of the said couch was a glass coffee table with a box on it. Y/N's hand was finally let go of as V sat on the couch.

“Come sit, I have something to give you.”

“But you said-”

“Please?”

He sighed as he complied, arms folded as he sat next to him. V opened the box and to Y/N's surprise, there was a biner in it. Once again, all he could ask was "How?" as all production and selling of items that could help trans folk was banned just as the Koran was. The masked man took the folded bundle into his giant hands and gave it to them once again shocked male.

“Life has been tough enough on you even if we don't add our government into it. Thank you for holding on. For surviving this long and not letting them take away your love for life and your fighting spirit.”

Without any hesitation, Y/N pulled V into a tight embrace with tears threatening to fall. No one had ever put their life in danger to give them this piece of happiness like this stranger had. All he could do was whimper out a "thank you" as a sob shook his chest deeply.

“Since I showed you my lair, you're going to have to stay till the next November the fifth, is that okay?”

Y/N couldn't help but nod immediately. He could finally be somewhere he was truly accepted for who he really was; a man who was just simply given the wrong body at birth.

V placed his hands on top of the weeping H/C man, stroking the uneven hair and placed his head onto the others.

“I'm cooking ham, is that okay?”

“mmhmm..”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

[hardforbenhardy]

the perfect gift | benxfem!reader

summary: the first time ben is meeting your parents, and you are nervous. but not as nervous as you are to give ben his present

warnings: intense fluff so prepare yourself coz ben is a d o r a b l e in this

based on two prompts: "that's what your wearing?" and "i tested positive"

word count: 4.5k

thought i'd do a little christmassy themed oneshot considering it was ... yakno... christmas; it’s been in my drafts for a while so there’s no better time than the present (no pun intended😊) i had fun writing this so i hope you have fun reading it! :)

Christmas had always been the same; through the 27 years of your life, you stuck to your traditions. You would always spend the time with your whole family, with the traditional Christmas roast and gift-giving. You loved it; you were extremely close with all your family, and spending time with them was always cherished since it only happened twice a year. However, there was one part that you couldn't stand. The worst part of it all was the fact that every year you were the only adult who was yet to find a relationship. All your siblings, your parents, aunt and uncles, grandma and grandpa, even some of your older cousins; they were all coupled up. You had even tried to convince them one year that you had finally found yourself a man; of course, you had simply bribed your best friend to pretend to be your boyfriend for the one day. He, however, was not as good of an actor as you thought he would be - caving in after only 3 hours in the household by accidentally spilling that he was in fact gay.

Though, this year you didn't have to pretend; you had finally found a man who you truly loved. He was the spitting image of what you considered perfection and you were sure he was the one. You and Ben had taken your relationship quite quickly, you had only been together for 10 months and yet you had already moved into a house together and adopted a small puppy. Though, you didn't see it as a particularly bad thing; you knew for certain that he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, the man you wanted to start a family with, grow old with. And you were also pretty certain that you were that woman for him; I mean, that's what he told you every single day. Every morning as you sat around the table to eat your breakfast; every lunch time when you'd facetime him from the office; every evening when you were snuggling in bed and he just had to mention it, which of course often led to more. You were absolutely hooked onto him, like a baby to a bottle; you simply couldn't resist him. So showing him off to your family was assuredly what you were most looking forward to this Christmas. You had already met Ben's family, and so it was now his time.

The two of you were about to leave to drive down for Christmas Eve, and the nerves were beginning to set in; what if they didn't like Ben? What if they thought you were both moving too fast? What if the nieces and nephews didn't want to play with him? What if they all took one glance at Ben and thought he could do better? You saw Ben as an angel, but you didn't know about them; after all, your mother had always wanted the perfect step-son.  She had been pretty adamant about it from the start. Nevertheless, you brushed the nerves off and paid attention to curling your hair. Your concentration was broken, however, by the sight of Ben entering the bedroom in the reflection of the mirror in front of you. You grinned widely at the sight before you, or rather behind you, as the strapping blonde man strode in wearing what you noticed to be a rather formal suit considering the fact you were only attending a Christmas dinner with your family. In fact, it was extremely formal considering the fact you were only attending a Christmas dinner with your family; meaning you couldn't help but giggle.

"That's what your wearing? Baby, we're going to my parents for Christmas, not a wedding!"

"What? I wanted to impress them!" He exclaimed rather seriously, which made you chuckle before standing up off the little stool to walk towards him to give him a small peck on the cheek; which funnily made him blush like a madman. That was something you loved about Ben; he seemed like every day he saw you was as if he was seeing you for the first time again. Somedays, he acted like a horny teenager who couldn't resist your touch. Other days, he acted like you were made of glass, as if you were the most precious, fragile thing on the earth which led to being peppered with little kisses and hugs of every form whenever he saw you. And other days, he acted like he was made of glass, and would blush or smile every time you even placed a gentle finger on him; and you had a strong feeling, this was one of those days. "I mean, what if they don't like me, or they don't think I'm good enough for their daughter? What do we do then? Because I love you, I really really love you and I want to spend my whole life with you but I can't do that if your family doesn't like me because-“

"Baby, I know they're going to love you, okay. Maybe not as much as I do, but trust me; my mum is going to take one look at you and she'll treat you like the son she never had. You look gorgeous, and as much as I am admiring the way you look in this suit, you need to change. Swap the shirt and tie out for a tshirt, and the tapered pants for some of your nice jeans." you encourage him, stroking his upper arm lightly and smiling up at his face which looked extremely defeated. You could sense the anxiety emanating from his body, he was just as nervous to meet your parents as you were for them to meet him. But you didn't tell him that, because you didn't want to worry him anymore than he already was. He simply nodded, taking a deep breath and unsleeving his arms from the blazer so that he could unbutton his shirt. You pushed his hand out the way and did it yourself, after seeing the way his hands were pretty much shaking. He still preoccupied himself, beginning to pull his trousers off to fasten the pace, as he knew you needed to set off soon to make it in time.

Once he was dressed in more appropriate clothing, which you deemed suitable for a first impression, you were finally able to leave for your parents. The car journey over there was a little less stressful, as Ben had began to calm down and forget all about his little moment in the morning. However, as you stood outside your parent's house, your own nerves began to set in. You had arrived a lot later than you expected to, having been stuck in traffic for a lot of the journey. Your hand trembled as you went to ring the doorbell, Ben stood a step behind you so that your parents would be able to greet you first. The door swung open after a few seconds, revealing the bright cheery face of your mother.

"Darling, hello! It's lovely to see you! Come in, come in!" she cheered, stepping to the side to allow you and Ben to enter. You gave her a warm hug as you walked in, in which she responded with a small kiss to your temple. Your father entered the room too, a smile emerging on his face, and you couldn't help but laugh as you noticed the apron he was wearing; it was the same one he wore every single year, with an awful christmas pun which to be honest was not a suitable apron to wear around children.

"Mum! Dad! I've missed you so much! Sorry we were late - the traffic was awful" you squealed, pulling your dad in for a hug as well, until you looked to the side to see Ben standing there incredibly awkwardly as you greeted your parents. "Mum, Dad, I'd love for you to meet my boyfriend, Ben"

"It's nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs LN. Thank you for having me, especially during a time which is meant for spending time with family" He greeted, holding his hand out to shake my fathers, but rather he pulled Ben in for a hug. You then realised you had completely forgotten to mention to Ben quite how open and friendly your family were, meaning he had quite a shocked reaction to the sudden embrace.

"Please, call us Lydia and Michael. And you are part of this family Ben; any friend of YN's is a friend of ours, lovie. Now why don't the two of you head up to your room and settle down - that way, you'll be awake in time for tomorrow morning when the kids come up and completely wreck your lie-in!" Your mum whisper-yelled, chuckling as she handed your suitcases over to your dad to help you haul them up the flights of stairs to your old childhood room that you and Ben were planning to stay in for the next two nights. Admittedly, you were a bit embarrassed considering you knew your mother hadn't changed anything about your room since you were 18 and moved out to University, so you were in for an awkward and humiliating moment when Ben first saw the posters of Roger Taylor and Queen all over your wall like you were some kind of crazy fangirl. Which, of course, you were but you didn't even think about having to explain that until now.

After a good 10 minutes of Ben laughing at your seemingly-passionate devotion to the band, you had finally settled down in your bed, which was thankfully a double. It was rather cold, being wintertime, so you and Ben were cuddled up extremely close together under bundles of blankets in an attempt to keep some warmth between you. You spent a majority of your nights curled up like this, Ben's touch providing a haven for you. And just like every other night, you ended it with the same words.

"I told you they'd love you, you practically had my mum wrapped around your finger!" You grinned, poking Bens stomach jokingly as he released a low chuckle at your point. He knew you were right, because you had mentioned that your mother was often more removed from people if she didn't like them.

"Okay, okay; I was worried for nothing, I'll admit it! But I had every right to be!" He defended himself, his warm breath on your shoulder sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but cuddle closer, wrapping your arms around his torso and place your head in the nook of his shoulder.

"I know, I know; I really do love you Ben"

"I love you too"

*****

You were woken by the feeling of a small body pouncing onto your stomach, shouting and cheering filling the otherwise silent room; "Aunty Yn, Unca Bwen! Wake up! It's Christmas Day! And Santa's come!"

You chuckled, partly at your nieces urgency to get downstairs and open some presents, but mainly at Ben's low groan at being woken at 7 in the morning. Your heart softened at her reference to Ben being her Uncle, and not just a random man who had joined the family for the day. You urged the 4 year old to move off you so you could climb out of bed, grabbing the dressing gown screwed up in the floor and pushing your arms through the sleeves. "Lilah, give us 10 minutes and we'll be right down, okay?"

"Okay!" She squealed, wrapping her tiny arms around your legs before running off to shout to her brother Jackson that you'd be down in "twen" minutes.

"Baby, wake up" You whispered, shaking Bens arm lightly and kissing his forehead, only to hear him grunt and roll to face the other way. "Tired"

"So am I, but it's Christmas hun; come on, I want my presents!" You giggled, giving him a shove and jumping out of bed to tie the newly-clad gown. Ben pulled himself off the mattress and lugged over to the en-suite bathroom, mumbling that he was taking a quick shower before they head down. In the meanwhile, you busied yourself with helping your mum out in the kitchen to prepare Christmas dinner.

"Is Ben not joining us this morning?"

"He's just taking a quick shower, he'll be down soon" you explained, chopping the veg; you found yourself grinning at the mention of his name. Of course, your mother noticed this.

"You seem perfect for each other, you know. He seems like a very lovely lad too; your father and I are very happy you have found yourself someone" She smiled, elbowing your side a little which made you chuckle and grin widely; you were extremely happy that your parents actually accepted Ben into the family so unquestionably, and liked him. "So when can Michael and I expect more grandchildren!"

You saw the question coming; there was no doubt that your mother loved being a grandmother to Lilah and Jackson. But they were getting older now, Jackson being 7 and Lilah being 4, and Lydia desperately wanted a baby to care for. So, your next words came like a haven to her.

"What if I have reason to believe roughly 9 months?" You mumbled, placing your hand on your stomach and looking up at your mum with nervous eyes. Her own eyes widened in shock and happiness, taking in your words.

"You mean? You're pregnant?" She whispered, not wanting the rest of the house to hear. You nodded, worried your mother would think you and Ben were moving too fast, having only been together for roughly 10 months. "Darling, oh my gosh, that's amazing! I'm so happy! Does Ben know?"

"No not yet; in fact only you know. I was planning on telling him today, and the rest of the family, but I'm seriously beginning to second guess everything; what if Ben doesn't want the baby? I mean, we're not even married and Ben is always away for press tours and filming. What if he thinks we're moving too fast? I don't want to scare him away-" You stumbled, tears beginning to brim your eyes. Whether it was the hormones or your nerves you didn't know; but it was most likely a mixture of both. Your mother hushed you, rubbing your arm in a way to calm you down as she understood you tended to over worry about a lot; and of course, this is an extremely reasonable thing to worry about.

"Lovie, look; you will not scare Ben away. I see the look of lust in that boys eyes when he looks at you, and I can tell just how much he really loves you. This is a big thing, of course it is, but you need to tell Ben; whether you plan on keeping the child or not. He deserves to know, and if he turns you away then he was never a gentleman to begin with. You have this whole family to support you the whole way, but at the end of the day; it is both yours and Bens decision" She comforted, her words calming you a little as you realised she was right. You couldn't just not tell Ben, it was his child and you were a couple. And, to be completely honest, you were excited as hell to start a family with the man you considered the love of your life. The only reason you were hesitant with this was because you and Ben had literally never spoke about having children or starting a family, so you didn't have his opinion on the matter to fall back on. The moment between your mother and you was interrupted by the man himself, hugging you from behind and pressing a small kiss to your neck.

"Hiya love, everything okay?" He muttered, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you continue to chop the carrots as you were before the conversation with your mother. You hummed, leaning back into his touch, hoping he hadn't heard the previous conversation between you and your mother. You felt the smile on his lips against your skin, and he tucked his head into your neck.

"Why don't you go and meet my siblings huh? I'll be in in a few minutes, just finishing up with this" You suggested, to which he nodded and placed a small kiss to your temple, before walking into the living room to join your family. You could hear the loud voices of your older brother, Sam, and his wife greeting Ben from the other room, and painfully worried that Ben wouldn't get too nervous as your brother tended to be quite boisterous at times. In fact, your whole family did; which was extremely different to Ben's family who were much more calm and collected. Although by the sight you received entering the room a few minutes later, you were immediately filled with joy; the sight of Ben sat on the living room floor, cross legged, with Lilah on his lap and Jackson sat beside him, as he read them a story Lilah had begged him to. You were a little confused as to how he was getting on with them all so well; Lilah didn't usually warm up to people so well unless she had been properly introduced. And your mum was usually very judgemental of your boyfriends that you had brought home before. And your brother was often extremely protective over you. And your sister would most likely try to steal any guy you brought home and have him for herself.

You can't help but admire the way he is around the 2 children; it's as if he's done the whole parenting thing before. Lilah was smiling so widely, you thought her face was going to get permanently stuck like that. The two were amazingly engaged as he spoke the words on the page, acting out the story with little actions and different voices,  making sound effects when needed. Your brother's wife, Sophia, walked up to you with a small grin on her face before mumbling "You've got a good one there, don't ruin it" in your direction as she passed by to enter the kitchen. At the sight before you, you realised exactly how correct she was. You had got someone in your life who you could never lose; you'd be a fool to ruin what you and Ben had. So of course, you began second guessing telling him the news once again. If you told him the truth, he may leave and then you've lost him for good. But seeing just how well he was around the children and how engaged he was, you actually considered that this was a good idea.

The time came to finally exchange presents; no doubt after the children had nagged the adults for 20 minutes straight, asking "when can we open them?". The children spent the most time opening presents, getting excited after each one and showing it off to every single adult in the room. You were sat on the small armchair; well Ben was, and you were perched on his lap, an arm around his neck and head rested on his shoulder. You were admittedly beginning to grow impatient at telling Ben the news; as much as you didn't want to tell him, waiting to do it was becoming painful because it only gave you more time to re-evaluate your decision. Thankfully, your mother had finished giving everyone her gifts, so it was the end and you could give Ben his. You rushed out of the room to where your coat hung up, pulling out a small box that was wrapped in paper and had a bow placed on the top. Ben noticed the box and furrowed his brows, even more so when you went to hand it to him.

"YN, we agreed we weren't doing presents this year?" he questioned, hesitantly taking the box from your hand, almost as if he expected it to explode in his hand. You nodded your head a little, understanding his confusion. Honestly, you forgot that you had agreed to not give each other presents this year because you had spent quite a lot of money so far on your relationship, first buying the house and then investing in a pet.

"I-I know, but you wouldn't have got any other gifts, and I think you'll like this one" You mumbled, urging him to open it and trying to hide your nerves from Ben as you knew he had a strange talent of noticing when you were hesitant to do something. He was like a human radar; he knew when you were happy, sad, angry, nervous, excited. He had a mental notebook of all your habits for each emotion, so he could probably tell that you were absolutely bricking it right now. But you assumed that he just thought this because you were nervous he wouldn't like the gift; which you were, but he didn't realise why. He took his sweet time opening the present, unwrapping it slowly considering he had all eyes of the room on him at that moment, alongside the glare of a camera that your mother had pulled out in excitement of the moment. As he opened the flaps to the small cardboard box underneath the wrapping paper, his eyes widened and his whole body froze. You can't deny, so did yours. He slowly pulled out the small stick out of the shadows of the box to reveal two small pink lines on the small screen.

"A-are you... is this real?" he mumbled, looking up to meet your eyes. You saw the tears beginning to pool at the bottom of his eyes, and you saw a glint of happiness. You nodded, awaiting his reaction.

"I tested positive."

You didn't know if this was a good reaction or a bad one because he didn't really show much emotion on his face. That was until a giant smile stretched across his face and his hands dropped the box so that he could wrap his arms around you. It was rather sudden, but he took you into the tightest hug you'd ever felt; his head rested against your shoulder and you felt the tears of joy seeping into your jumper. You obviously hugged back, relieved that he was actually happy about this.

"I-I'm gonna be a dad? W-We're gonna be parents?" He continued questioning, unable to believe any of this was true because he didn't think contentment like this could exist. You could barely speak your own words, only having the ability to nod and cry as well as Ben.  The whole family was now cheering with you, Lilah jumping on your lap to give you the biggest hug she possibly could, exclaiming that she couldn't wait to have a little cousin she could play with. Well, you assumed that's what she said, considering most of her words were indistinguishable.

"I can't believe this, this is the best day of my fucking life. God, we're gonna be parents in 9 bloody months, love. I love you so much, and you too" he gushed, tears brimming in his eyes once again and also yours. He bent down and gently kissed your practically-non-existent bump as he whispered "and you too" and you couldn't help but admire how well he took the news; you certainly didn't expect this much of a reaction from him and you felt a little stupid for ever second guessing yourself. Of course, being the bundle of nerves Ben tended to be, started questioning everything; "How far along are you? Have you been feeling ill? Because I'm sorry if I haven't been much help to make you feel better but I don't recall hearing you being sick of anything in the mornings so I don't know-"

"Ben, I've been fine so far; I'm only a month along and I've only had two instances of morning sickness, both of which you weren't home for so you don't have to worry. I suppose I've felt a little under the weather recently but nothing that I couldn't cope with." You explained, which brought comfort to Ben as he knew you weren't suffering too much in the time being. Though, he had heard of how harsh pregnancy can be for some women and he prayed to the Lord that you would not be one of the small percentage.

*****

After finding out the exciting news, Ben had been non-stop protecting you like you were a piece of glass; not that he didn't before, he just did it a lot more intensely now. Every time you tried to sit down or stand up, he would help you so that you didn't 'strain your back'. Every time you went up the stairs, he would walk right behind you. Every time you yawned, he asked if you wanted to go to bed and insisted you had an early night so that you and 'bean' were well rested. Oh yes, and he had nicknamed the growing child 'bean'. You, thankfully, now found yourself wrapped up in the covers of your duvet after a long Christmas day and could not wait to fall asleep. Ben had jumped in beside you and cuddled close so that he could rest his hand on your stomach and head on your shoulder. You were so close to being asleep, until Ben decided to create conversation.

"You know, I thought your boobs had gotten bigger, but I didn't want to mention it in case you thought I was complaining" He mumbled into your neck, which woke you up immediately. You slapped his arm and chuckled loudly, making him wince in pain a little.

"They've also gotten a lot more sore so no touching. And alongside that, I constantly need to pee, very gassy and am continually getting mood swings; so good luck for the next 9 months because you're officially dating a zombie" you countered, making him chuckle gleefully. He didn't care how disgusting or gross you may have seen yourself; you were still beautiful to him and he was going to let you know that every day.

"A gorgeous zombie who I love very very much and is literally bringing my child into the world; with my help, of course." He smirked, making you roll your eyes because you completely understood what he meant by 'his help'.

"I'm so happy that your happy and I can't wait to have a family with the love of my life"

"And I can't wait either" He grinned, feeling happiness he had never felt before in his life. Now, all he had to do was propose; luckily, he'd been planning it all along

[lunyrbug]

RUNAWAYS || Crossposting from wattpad || Chapter 4 [i may have either taken down the chap or not posted it at all so here]

kim namjoon was extremely intelligent.

he knew physics, literature, right from wrong. 148 iq did him some good.

so why was this smart man leaving his home? well, he had no choice. he came out as gay to his parents, and they told him to pack up and leave. they told him he was 'gross' and some words he couldn't say, even in his mind. they yelled, almost got violent.

his first step out the door was filled with instant regret. he started down the street, unsure of where to stop for food. he walked into the coffee shop he loved and ordered his favorite drink. it came quickly, and he was thankful for it. the one part of his day that hadn't gone wrong. he started to sniffle. what had he done to deserve to be kicked to the curb like this? just when tears were about to fall, he felt someone tap his shoulder.

"um...namjoon, right? i'm seokjin...i was in a few classes with you. i work as a barista, though i'm on break now. couldn't help but notice you were upset!" the man with broad shoulders said, worriedly.

"i remember you clearly." namjoon looked up at the man. "yeah, i'm not doing too great right now. came out to my parents...now i'm no longer living in their house. i should be glad i got away, but their words hurt like a bitch, man." he couldn't help but shake his head.

seokjin sat by him, resting his elbows on the table. "...well, do you have an idea of where you want to go? i don't want you on the streets, i've seen people walk around drunk...fights...it's not good to be out here late at night." he spoke almost like a worried dad.

namjoon was at a loss for words. where would he go? he hadn't a single family member to turn to or call. seokjin looked disappointed. this kid had not prepared for this situation at all. he would ask joon to stay with him, but he was not in a good place himself. he could barely pay rent as it was. if he didn't get this next payment to his absolute saint of a landlord, he'd be evicted. promptly. adding on a roommate wouldn't do him any good, since namjoon literally didn't have a single cent to his name anymore. he sighed. "listen, you can stay at my place for a while, but don't expect to be there forever. i'm just going to help you get back on your feet. let me finish my next shift, and i'll be right back here."

namjoon nodded, though he wasn't completely confident. wouldn't he just bother seokjin? he wasn't any good at anything, at least he didn't think so. he'd only screw his life up. so he decided to say something about it. "you don't have to." "i know," seokjin turned, smiling. "but you're a friend, so i should at least try to help." —

seokjin had no apartment.

he had been evicted.

he really needed to lighten the mood, though inside his heart was melting into nothing. "looks like we're in the same boat, huh, namjoon?"

both men felt all senses of hope shatter. jin turned to look back at namjoon. "guess we have to pack up...i am so sorry."

"at least you tried to help me, jin-hyung." namjoon replied, holding back the tears that were bound to start flooding any minute.

seokjin unlocked the door to his home and started grabbing the boxes he never got rid of. namjoon did the very calming job of packing up clothes. jin grabbed his things from the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, and his bedroom. he remembered this bedroom being his study, his dance floor, his comfort. if this entire apartment was bedroom he'd be in hog heaven. this room had seen him throw things angrily, cry on the floor, and sometimes laugh at himself. this room had seen his first genuine relationship, his first breakup, and even his college graduation. this room held his story from the second he moved in. so when he was packing up, he just couldn't hold anything back anymore. he curled up on his now stripped bed, hid his ashamed face from the world, and sobbed.

namjoon looked around the living room. jin's family photos from years back and posters of his favorite media that previously lined the walls were packed away. namjoon remembered the way his room back home looked like that. he really wished he was there, with his sister hugging him tight and his mother trying to feed him a plate of food almost every hour. his mother loved seeing him with his 'chubby mochi cheeks', as she called them. he wanted to show his dad the beats he made online and watch his reactions. he wanted his family back. he remembered his sister crying so hard when he got kicked out, screaming for him. was she okay now, knowing he'd learn to live on his own? would she be happy if he went off and found love? he tried to remember good times, but his brain kept flashing back to the day before. screaming, angry parents. terrified sister.

he sat on the empty hardwood floor. what would he do? jin tried to save him, and look where it got him. he only messed everything up more. his anger and regret got the best of him as he sniffled again. hiccups made his shoulders shake. he finally got the chance to let it out. he brought his knees to his chest and rested his arms on top of them. he buried his face and let out a quiet wail of pain. he didn't think he'd ever say the words "i want to go home" ever again after 4th grade, but he was wrong.

—

jin was able to get everything into the backseat of his car, surprisingly. it was a bitter moment for both of them as they got into the car and buckled in, all in complete silence. jin put in the key and waved bye to the place he knew all too well. namjoon found himself watching jin intently.

"namjoon?" jin said, cracking a small smile. namjoon snapped out of his trance as he felt the car move. "oh- wha?" "you ready for an adventure?" jin's slight enthusiasm brought a light upon them.

"to nowhere?" namjoon asked. "most adventures normally have a destination at the end."

"we're going somewhere, we just don't know where yet." jin's smile widened.

"then...i guess i'm ready for an adventure." namjoon's dimpled smile glowed. 

[redditnosleep]

My Student Submitted The Most Disturbing "Living History" Project I've Ever Seen

by gretelcat

One of my least favorite parts about being a middle school history teacher is the bullshit “Living History” assignments we give at the end of every school year. Kids are supposed to sit with their grandparents and video tape, voice record, or transcribe their oldest memories for posterity (and for an easy way to bring up their GPA).

I have been doing this for seventeen years, and when I collected the projects this time around, I assumed they would be as dull, if not duller than usual. This had not been a particularly bright class.

So I went home, poured myself a glass of wine, and prepared for a long night of “I only owned two pairs of pants when I was your age” and “My brother got beat with a newspaper for hitting a baseball into a neighbor’s yard.” And of course, these projects were peppered with innocent, old-person comments that were so horribly sexist and racist you just had to laugh.

Now, I had a girl in my class whom I will call Olivia. She was pudgy, quiet, and proved herself a consistent B student. I expected her project to be as unremarkable as her, and perhaps that’s why I was so profoundly disturbed by what I witnessed that night.

Olivia had submitted two discs for some reason, so I began with the one marked “interview.” My screen hiccupped twice before a grainy image of a living room came into view. The place was a hoarder’s hell. Olivia was curled up in an armchair clutching a notebook and looking like a scared animal. Across from her sat a man with a somber countenance, smoking a cigarette and staring at her expectantly.

“Go ahead,” a woman’s voice whispered from behind the camera. Olivia’s owlish eyes flashed towards the screen, then back to the man.

“I am here with my Great Uncle Stephen,” she began almost inaudibly. “He is going to tell us about his oldest memories from being in the army.”

Great Uncle Stephen looked like he’d rather be in a goddamn trench at the moment, but he waited patiently for the questions to begin.

Not surprisingly, Olivia read verbatim from the suggested questions sheet I had handed out to the students. He answered her curtly. Once or twice I heard her mother whisper “speak up, Olivia” from behind the camera. Typical, boring shit.

So I was intrigued when Olivia set down the notebook and asked, “Did you like being in the army?”

That was totally off-script. Great Uncle Stephen emitted a chain smoker’s wheeze. “Nope. Glad to get out of my town though.”

“Where did you go?”

“Balkans.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. I doubted she knew what the Balkans were, and my suspicion was confirmed when she asked, “Was Baukiss very different from here?”

“Yes.”

Mom cleared her throat from behind the camera, perhaps encouraging Great Uncle Stephen to be a little more forthcoming.

But Olivia seemed genuinely interested. “Uncle Stephen,” she asked, “what is your very worst memory from the army?”

The old man crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and then slowly lifted himself out of his chair. “I’ll be back,” he mumbled. The camera cut off.

When the screen flashed back on, everything was the same except Great Uncle Stephen had several pieces of paper in plastic sleeves laid atop all the crap sitting on his coffee table. One, he held in his hand.

“I was a kid when I enlisted,” he said, looking at Olivia. “Your brother’s age,” he told her. Olivia nodded. “I never saw combat. Both of my deployments were to cities in Eastern Europe that had been destroyed by civil wars. Everything was a mess. I felt like a janitor for fuck’s sa-”

“Ahem!” Mom coughed.

Great Uncle Stephen sighed and looked at his paper. “My unit was assigned to a school that had been obliterated by all the violence. Broken windows, caved in rooms – and for some reason, the part that got to me the most was that the school had been like this for years before we got there. No one had lifted a finger to fix it. I saw kids walk by it on their way to go beg for money or whatever shit they did-”

The camera dipped towards the floor as I heard Mom whisper harshly at Great Uncle Stephen. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it wasn’t hard to imagine.

“Do you want to hear this goddamn story or not?” I heard him bark in response. “Then you better let me tell it how I want.”

“Mom,” Olivia chimed. “Please stop interrupting.”

“Are you presenting this in front of the class?”

“No, Mom, we’re just handing it in to the teacher.”

“I’m sure he’s heard the word shit before,” Great Uncle Stephen contributed helpfully. I wasn’t a “he” as a matter of fact, but other than that the statement was accurate.

The camera was lifted and after a couple of blurry focus adjustments, the shot was the same as before.

“Ahh I’m talking too much anyway,” he grumbled. He lifted the piece of paper in his hand close to his face. “In the basement, I found this letter. I didn’t know what it said but I had a buddy of mine translate it. So I’m gonna read it now. And then I’ll tell you what I saw in that basement.”

A chill ran down my spine. Mom zoomed in to Great Uncle Stephen and his letter. His palsied hands trembled as he held up the paper. This is what he read:

Dear Sir,

I never loved my country. So many of these skirmishes are born from patriotism, a power struggle for the shards of a once-great empire, but I do not care what name my home has on a map. This fighting is senseless and I stay as far away from it as I can.

It was not these attacks and disorganized violence that took the lives of my wife and child. It was illness. Mercifully, it happened quickly for the baby. Nadja suffered for longer. I watched in horror knowing I could do nothing for them. My only solace is that I was there for them every step of the way. I stopped going to work one day, and no one came after me. I doubt they noticed I was gone. Since the school was simply across a field, visible from my window, it would have been easy to go for a few hours each day and come home quickly to care for them. But what was the point? All I did was clean floors. I was as useless to the world as I was to my family.

I tried to take Nadja to the hospital, but the journey was too long and taxing. I brought her home and she died that night.

After Nadja and the baby were gone… well, I don’t remember much. I didn’t leave my hovel, barely ate and slept, thought many times of taking my own life. Tempting though it was, I felt paralyzed by my own helplessness.

The one thing that kept me sane was my radio. I never turned it off once. Even though I didn’t listen to the words being said – in fact, the channel I got the clearest was in English (I think) which I don’t speak a lick of. But the voices, the music, and the true knowledge that life existed beyond this violent city sustained me.

I have no idea how long passed before I saw the light of day again. I was dizzy from hunger, so finding food was my priority. My radio came with me, of course. Since I first holed myself up, it has gone everywhere with me. It talks to me as I sleep and as I wake. I don’t know what it’s saying, but I know I would die without it.

Once I had some water and food, it occurred to me that the only thing left to do was go back to work. So I did. The following morning, I simply returned to the school where I was a janitor and got back to work.

Nobody made a big deal out of it. Like I said, Nadja had been sick for a long time, and those who worked at the school knew it. I appreciate that no one had pestered me to come back to work during the hardest days of my life. The teachers never said much to me, but we smiled at each other in the halls and that mutual respect was perhaps the reason I decided to come back at all.

The place had gone to the dogs without me, so I simply grabbed my broom and rags from my closet and set to cleaning. Everyone is grateful to have me back, I know. And the best part is that nobody minds my radio. I bring it with me everywhere and keep the volume low enough not to disrupt the students. No one has ever complained. In fact, I suspect they like it.

The schoolhouse is not very big, but does require a lot of maintenance. The floors are always sticky and stained, so I spend most of my time mopping. Kids make messes – I guess that’s why I’m still in business. Sometimes I have to move things around to make sure I get every spot on the floor beautiful and clean, but I take pride in that.

And the repairs! The school always needs tune-ups here and there, and I am happy to help. Some days I’m reconstructing a desk that broke as I whistle along with the radio, other times I handle more serious, structural issues. Days when I have work like this, I feel truly instrumental, like a cog in a larger machine. How could this school survive without me? It took me a long time, but I once again feel that I have purpose.

There is a larder behind the school that is full of preserved food. In lieu of payment, I am allowed to take as much food as I need. That arrangement is fine – what would I do with money anyway? I used to bring the food back to my home, just one field away from the school, but when I started sleeping in the basement no one seemed to notice. This school is special to me and I cannot leave it unguarded.

When I am besieged with memories of my wife and baby, I turn up the volume on the radio to drown out such thoughts. It works for me every time.

Except this morning.

Because this morning, I woke up to dead silence.

I frantically examined the radio to see what had happened. I honestly cannot tell you how many days in a row I have been using it. Did it simply live out its life and die naturally? I have spent the entire day trying to fix it. Most of this time, I have been crying. I am losing my mind without it.

I have given myself until sundown. If I cannot fix it by then, I am going to take my life. I am writing this because the sunlight is starting to die and I know what my fate shall be.

I have thought about taking one last walk through the halls of my school, saying goodbye to the students and teachers. I know I will be missed. But I cannot bring myself to leave this room. I cannot go anywhere knowing that my radio is dead in here.

There are no more tears in me. It feels now like I can’t catch my breath. I vomited what little food I had in my stomach and I am growing dizzy again, like I did after Nadja died. I am not long for this world.

But before I take my life, I have closed the door to this room and stuck a chair beneath the handle. It is the only room in the basement and has a small casement that lets in just enough light for me to see what I am doing. If anyone is kind enough to come looking for me, they should not be met with this gruesome sight. Perhaps they will see the door is blocked, smell my rotting body, and simply forget I ever existed.

But I have placed both my radio and this note outside the door. Kind sir, if you are reading this, I have one humble request: please fix it. Save my radio. It did not deserve to die in its sleep and I am ashamed that I cannot revive it.

Now I am ready to join Nadja and little Ludmilla in heaven. I hope this school can find another janitor who loves and cares for it the way I do.

The hour is now. Do not forget my radio.

Stanislav

When Mom zoomed back out, Olivia had tears in her eyes. “Thank you for sharing, Uncle Stephen,” Mom said, her voice choked. “I think we have enough.”

“Wait!” Olivia chirped. “He said there’s more. What did you find?”

Before Great Uncle Stephen could open his mouth, the image disappeared. My jaw dropped. Was that it? What did Great Uncle Stephen see?

I promptly remembered that there was a second disc. This one was unmarked, but I hoped it contained the rest of the interview.

There was no video, only audio. The voice that started up was Olivia’s.

“Hi Miss Gerrity. I’m sorry about my mom, but she refused to record the rest of what my uncle was saying. But I asked him to continue and secretly recorded the story as a voice memo on my phone. I remember you said earlier this year that history is written by the people who win wars.” She sucked in a breath and commenced crying. “But everyone’s history is important, even if they are sad, pathetic people and even if they never won a single thing in their life. I haven’t slept through the night since I finished this project, but you have to hear what my uncle has to say.”

There were tears in my eyes, too. The sincerity of her words was beautiful. I was also flattered that she had remembered some trite phrase I threw around because it was what my history teachers said to me.

Before I got too sappy over it, the audio began again.

“Fine,” came Mom’s frustrated voice. “If you want to hear the rest of the story, fine, but this is not appropriate for a school project.”

“Let me finish,” Great Uncle Stephen snapped. “If it’s too much for you, help yourself to a snack in the kitchen. But Olivia wants to know what happened.”

I heard her mother mumble something and walk away. Olivia and her uncle were alone. I imagined her looking at him expectantly.

“So did you find the radio? Or did it get ruined when the school got blown up?”

He rasped and I heard the distinct click of a lighter. “That letter,” he began slowly, “had a date on it.”

“What date?” she inquired hungrily.

“It was dated two weeks before we started rebuilding the school.”

“Didn’t you say the school had been destroyed like two years ago?”

“Yes,” replied Great Uncle Stephen. “It had been.”

There was silence as I felt goosebumps on my arms. The images that came to my mind were almost too overwhelming to express, but Great Uncle Stephen put them into words effortlessly. Clearly he had spent his whole life thinking about it.

“This man, this Stanislav, went to a vandalized, falling apart schoolhouse and cleaned up blood and rubble like it was spilled drinks and dust. He smiled at dead bodies in the hallway and believed they were smiling back at him because they liked his radio. He moved around corpses so he could sweep the ground under them. The roof was half collapsed, so when it rained, he must’ve gotten soaking wet but was so oblivious that he didn’t even feel a thing.” I could hear Olivia crying steadily. “I found the larder he was talking about. It was all pickled, preserved food that probably tasted like shit. Most of the stuff was moldy.”

“Did – did you see the dead body?”

“Yes. Hanging from the ceiling, but still amazingly… lifelike. He wasn’t rotting away. This hadn’t happened years ago.”

“Did he look peaceful?” she asked, a chord of desperation in her voice.

“Couldn’t tell you. The smell was rank, and his face was blue and his eyes were bulging. Like this.” I imagined him demonstrating.

“And the radio?” Olivia wept.

I heard Great Uncle Stephen take a long drag of his cigarette. “It was there, alright. And it was still on.”

[goetzeus]

BVB Feiertagsmagazin w/ Marc Bartra (24/02/17) - English translation

Nobby: It's a world premiere here at BVB total. I have a very special guest today: Marc Bartra is with me. ¡Benvenidos! Correct?

Marc: Bienvenidos?

Nobby: Bienvenidos?

Marc: Welcome.

Nobby: Welcome, right. You already speak a little bit of German but we will look at that later on.

Marc: In German: Nice to be here. For me.

Nobby: Nice to be here, perfect. How would you describe the first few months in Dortmund?

Marc: Well, there were a lot of new things at first. It was a big change for me to go from Barcelona to Dortmund but every week, every day I feel more and more comfortable and I get along better with the team. I prepared well for the season and I feel very fit. I think we played very good football the first few months of the season. Maybe, I felt the change a bit more at the end of the year but then we had the Christmas break which helped me recharge and now in 2017 I feel more comfortable with what Mr. Tuchel asks of me and with my teammates. The fans are amazing and once again, I feel very content, very comfortable, very happy to be here.

Nobby: Is there anything you like especially about Dortmund?

Marc: Well, the tranquility, the respect that people have. I think Germans are very respectful.

Nobby: Beer?

Marc: (laughs) No, not at the moment. I think when my family came here they saw that Dortmund, as a city, is very different from Barcelona. But I think the best thing is that I feel more relaxed and I can have a calm life with my wife and my daughter. We can be together more often, take walks around the city. It's great here if you want to have a calm life.

---INTERLUDE---

Nobby: You take German classes. What are the main topics?

Marc: (in German) Yeah, I have German classes twice a week... I'll continue in Spanish. We started with football terms so I could communicate with my teammates. Right form the beginning I told my teacher that I wanted to know these terms so I could communicate on the pitch. Words like "right", "left", "right foot", "left foot", "turn", "play quickly", "faster". Those are words you need in order to talk to your teammates. "Back", "Keep going!". You need those to build up your game from the defense line. And now that I've been here for some months it's more about everyday words so that I can talk to Germans. I think it's good that I can learn a new language. German isn't easy but I think I can do basic stuff and it enriches my life.

Nobby: Are there any German words you like or you think are fun?

Marc: "Scheiße!" (Shit!)

Nobby: (laughs) Everyone says that.

Marc: "Heja BVB!" There are more. What else? (Nobby does weird hand motion, Marc imitates him) Yeah, "Raus, raus!" (Get forward!) I like a lot. It's important on the pitch... Yeah, you have to keep studying... "Katastrophe" (catastrophe). (both laugh)

---INTERLUDE---

Nobby: Freiburg, as a promoted team, plays a very good season. This shows how balances the league is. How would you describe the niveau of the Bundesliga?

Marc: It's clear they will present a challenge for us. Freiburg is a very strong team, especially in their own stadium. We know that it won't be easy, just like with any other Bundesliga team. They are very strong and play with a lot of intensity until the very last minute. So everything can happen. But I think we played very well in the last two matches. Our opponents had almost no chances which is very important because it makes the defense feel secure/stable. And I think we have to continue playing with this energy and this confidence.

Nobby: Freiburg is very well-known for their work with young talents. You've also been at a club which is known for that. How did the time at La Masia shape your character?

Marc: It's true that Barca's youth teams are excellent. That's because, from an early age, you start playing with the same philosophy and style. I began playing at Barca when I was 10 and I grew up with the philosophy of keeping the ball close, having a lot of possession but also defending high and always staying alert and focused. Those are things you learn right from the beginning and when you're make it to the team you just keep playing how you've been trained to do for years. I think this philosophy is important for the players to be able to play on a high level. At the moment Dortmund's style, how we play, suits me a lot. I like that we have a lot of possession and play good football but I also like defending and winning the ball back. That's why I enjoy being in this team so much.

---INTERLUDE---

Nobby: Marc, you also played Footgolf in Marbella. Did you like it?

Marc: It was something different, something I've never done before. It was a lot of fun and the best thing was that we won. (laughs)

---Marc draws the winner of the Goal of the Month raffle // the play Goal or No Goal // he signs the team poster---

Nobby: I had a lot of fun with you today. We hope you stay healthy and keep our fingers crossed that you'll soon score a Bundesliga goal.

Marc: (in German) Thank you. (in Spanish) One more thing I want to say: (in German) I hope that I'll soon only speak German in interviews.

Nobby: Perfect!

[salvo-love]



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Bad Photos Are Not Your Fault



More old photos of mine shot back when I was the typical average photographer, completely unaware of how my images could be improved. Do your photos look like these?

So many new photographers and hobbyists get stuck on buying equipment. And they spend months hunting for ways to improve their skills.

Yet, after all that, your photos are average. Or worse.

Here’s the truth: it’s really NOT your fault!

I’m telling you, I’ve spent hundreds of hours digging through blogs and forums, reading books and manuals, watching YouTube and DVDs.

Guess what. After going through ALL of the training material out there, I’ve found NONE that will turn you into a pro, step-by-step.

They always have missing pieces. Questions without answers. Nobody says exactly how the best images are made.

You’re just expected to “spend a lot of time practicing”!

People believe that’s a good thing, but it can actually be wasted time and energy. Doing something over and over again is exhausting. It takes years to figure stuff out and become a professional that way… if you get there at all!

There’s a better strategy…

It Takes Years To Become A Professional… If You Don’t Know The Shortcut



These shots were taken by me after I learned the secrets of professionals…

How did I go from beginner to having photographs showcased and featured on DeviantART, Flickr, print ads, billboards, posters, magazines, and book covers?

Well, I never took classes. Anywhere. Ever.

Instead, I went around my town and shot photos with an entry-level DSLR, a Nikon D50.

My first attempts were “ordinary”, nothing special. Online I saw photos better than mine and literally thought they were mysterious. I couldn’t figure out how they did it!

But then… I discovered a few BASIC PRINCIPLES that make it possible to take good photos, every time, no matter what camera’s in my hands.

With these principles, I can take a couple shots and feel comfortable knowing at least one will be a “keeper”.

It’s WAY BETTER than digging through 100 shots hoping that one is just “okay”.

Now I’m aware of WHAT to look for… WHEN to photograph… HOW to get the shot I want. And I can be sure that a photo will be good – even before it’s taken.

It’s like I found a reflex that just “knows” when to click the shutter!

Seriously, this changed my life…

How To Quickly Learn Everything You Need To Create Amazing Photographs



Your shots CAN look like these! Here's how…

Let’s be real: after getting a DSLR you found it takes more than reading the manual to get professional results from it.

Then your hunt for more information and answers began.

But there’s a TON of information about photography, and it’s so unorganized!

I learned by doing meticulous research, putting it all together on my own. After spending years of applying what I discovered, I began sharing with friends online.

Nobody prepared me for the flood of questions about landscapes, portraits, sports, studio photography... and my weird ability to just grab a camera and start taking great photos without any effort whatsoever.

Now I've got the answers you're looking for, and they're here on this website.

Just Imagine Being Able To…

Choose the right DSLR on a budget and still get all the desired features

Properly hold a DSLR and stop looking like a complete idiot out in the field

Stop taking boring photos that nobody cares about and start taking creative, memorable photos worth sharing and selling



GET CRISP, CLEAR SHOTS when photographing anything, including people, objects, and landscapes



Avoid the 6 common beginner mistakes of COMPOSITION and easily create brilliant images instead



Finally grasp a complete understanding of Shutter Speed, Aperture, and ISO for total control over MOTION and DEPTH OF FIELD



Learn the “secret” time of day when most professional photos are shot



Understand Exposure and Metering so pictures won’t be too bright or too dark, but “just right”



Properly select the right WHITE-BALANCE setting on your camera and stop worrying about photos coming out too orange or having washed out colors



Select the BEST LENSES to create appropriate, proportional, non-distorted, aesthetically pleasing images… no matter the situation



Take JAW-DROPPING panoramic shots



Use FOCUS correctly and know what focus points to avoid in a scene



Choose the BEST EQUIPMENT, including flash, filters, camera bag, tripod, tripod head, batteries, battery recharger, strap, camera mount, and memory cards

Use external FLASH to control motion, remove red-eye, add drama, and give your images an edgy, high-class, professional look…



Use FILTERS to control light coming through the lens, remove glare, and even make the colors in a scene appear more saturated

Get NATURAL HDR shots that don’t look fake or “over-done”



Correctly decide when to use a TRIPOD – and know when it’s dumb to use one

Capture sharp, correctly exposed photos in LOW-LIGHT SITUATIONS… with no motion blur or noise



Take stunning photographs at NIGHT with or without using a flash or tripod



Know where to put LIGHTS in relation to your subject/model and how to control the mood of portrait photos



Choose effective LIGHT MODIFIERS, including umbrellas, soft boxes, beauty dishes and grids to establish the mood of the image (do you want the image to be dark, dramatic and shadowy? Soft and pleasing? Bright and happy? Do you want soft pools of background light? When would you want light to create texture across surfaces, and when wouldn't you?)



Know how to select a SOFTWARE package that fits your needs and budget

Correctly EDIT IMAGES in post-production using Adobe® Photoshop® Lightroom and Adobe® Photoshop® software



And much, much more…

Others started applying my advice and the results were pretty amazing…



Photo by someone who took my advice

It felt great when they started getting the same results as me…

But Don’t Just Take My Word For It

“People thought my photos were from a travel magazine!”



Why Does This Work So Much Better?

The principles I discovered can turn nearly anyone into an “expert photographer”. When it comes to getting better shots, you’ll be AMAZED at how well they work.

And these principles are essential if you want photography to be a secondary or even full-time income.

Yet this information is hard to get. It’s either hidden from the general public or scattered all over the place, unavailable in one location for easy access.

NOW HERE’S THE SOLUTION: Everything you must learn to take professional quality images is on this website.

You can finally start using your camera with confidence. Start taking your own amazing photographs that people will rave about and even pay money for, if that’s your goal.

Listen, I’m willing to tell you everything because I’m not afraid of competition.

After being published all over the world, I’ve learned that it’s actually more fun and rewarding to share what I discovered… the very same information that launched my career.

My favorite part is when people send photos after using what I taught them.

Bottom-line: it doesn’t matter if you’re brand new or have been struggling with photography for a long time… I want to help you.

To make it easy, I took a video camera and recorded answers to all the top questions, and more.

I carefully demonstrate how to use exposure and aperture, lenses, lighting, composition, software, and many other topics that people find difficult or confusing.

What’s better, I’ll show you how to succeed…

Without piles of books or college courses

Without years of experimentation taking “average” photos