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giffenprep · 5 months

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Stepmother's Spanking

(long)

What can I say about this story? It was written in 2005 by ‘someone else’ who I haven’t seen other stories by. (I found it several years later.) It’s about a stepmother, something that’s been much on my mind lately, and relates very well to my situation back then. So it’s sort of ‘this is what should have happened’. I’ve changed it as little as I could to fit my situation - and it’s like the author is lecturing me personally on my stepmother’s behalf for being so inconsiderate and difficult to deal with.

For that, I thank the author.

***

It was a hot summer day in the end of June. I was busy studying for an exam for entry to program in environmental engineering after community college. I had just turned 19 and was taking Math, Science, and General Studies, but always aspired to become an engineer. I was on vacation right now, though.

While studying, I heard my stepmother, Sarah call for me, "Lance, please remember to clean out the junk from downstairs before the trash comes this afternoon. I need to use the space down there for a project this weekend."

I responded, "I'll take care of it later, I need to finish this right now."

Sarah replied, "Alright, but don't forget, it's very important that I have the space I need to work this weekend." Sarah then walked out the door.

My parents divorced when I was 14 and my Dad had remarried Sarah a few years later. Sarah was a fairly attractive woman in her mid-40s, medium height, with blue eyes, medium-length blonde hair, a large bust-line, glasses, and maybe a few extra pounds around the hips. When I first met her I thought she was a great person to be around, but after she married my father, she changed, and the two of them often had conflicts, including a couple knockdown drag-out fights that ended in both parties cussing each other out. I refused to acknowledge her authority over me because she was not my mother and I felt she was trying to run my life. Over the years an uneasy truce grew between them and aside from the occasional spat that had both of them walking out of the room to keep from killing each other, things were going fairly well. That was about to change again.

After Sarah departed, I continued to study and work on various other things I had to finish. As afternoon rolled by I had completely forgotten about cleaning out the basement, as I was busy with everything else. This was a common problem with me, I was extremely forgetful, but not intentionally so. I just had a hard time remembering things, even important things I had to do at times, especially if I encountered outside distractions. However, as Sarah's car pulled into the driveway that evening, I realized I made a major mistake. A wave of guilt and fear swept over me as I realized I had not done as she asked, and after she specifically told me it was very important I knew this was not going to bode well. I also realized it was entirely my fault.

"Hey, Lance, I see the trash already came. You did remember to clean the junk out of the basement, right?" was the first thing Sarah asked when she walked in the door.

I looked at the ground like a child who realizes the jig is up and replied, "I'm very sorry Sarah, but I completely forgot. I got involved doing other things and I just completely forgot about it. I'm very sorry about this."

At this point, Sarah's face turned from neutral to angry and she began yelling, "I told you it was very important that the stuff down there get cleaned out! I needed that area this weekend and I have nowhere to put everything that I'm working on now! I specifically told you not to forget and you did it anyway! Why are you always doing this to me?"

I answered in a low, remorseful voice, "Again, I'm very sorry. I didn't do it on purpose; I just tend to forget things a lot."

Sarah angrily responded, "You always say that you forgot, but if it's something important to you, you seem to have no trouble with forgetting! I don't know what more I can do to get you to remember! You're 19 years old, don't you think it's time you started taking responsibility for remembering things? Now my weekend is shot! I have nowhere to put all that stuff and I'll have to go into the office now to finish this project; a place I had hoped to avoid this weekend!"

I could only answer with, "I said I'm very sorry, Sarah, I'll try not to let it happen again."

Unable to speak anymore for fear of completely flying off the handle, Sarah stormed out of the room and I walked back to my room feeling guilty for forgetting something so important. I agreed, she did seem to have a point. My problem remembering often occurred when it was something I had to do for someone else, or an unwilling appointment I had to be at. I seemed to remember everything important to me fairly well. I agreed I would have to work on this, but I did not know how. I had always been this way. I sat down on the bed and began to think, but all that came to mind is how angry Sarah was at me for this and how upset she looked that the one weekend she had to be home from the office in the last two months was now wrecked. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I was feeling excessively upset at myself and guilty for wrecking my stepmother's weekend.

Up until this point, I had never stopped to consider all the things that she had done for me to help me out she and my father met. Most of the time we were at each other's throats, but there were times when she could be rather caring and kind toward me. It was almost as if she was trying to be a mother, but without trying to take her place. Of course, I resisted all efforts at allowing her to become a mother figure to me. In my mind I only had one mother, but this time was different.

I now began to feel that perhaps I was wrong all this time and that she wasn't intentionally out to get me and get rid of me. I felt that maybe she was just doing the best she could with someone who was, as I readily admitted, as stubborn as my father. This made me feel worse and set me to thinking even harder about what more I could do to ease the tensions around the house now that this even had occurred. Then I thought to myself, "Maybe it wouldn't kill me to start treating her like my mother. I mean she's not, but she is married to my Dad and she's not such a bad person. I'm the one that's been being unreasonable lately."

I knew I had a problem with authority. About the only people I listened to were my advisor at school and, sometimes, my father. I always resisted obeying my stepmother because I felt she did not have the authority to tell me what to do and to lay down rules, despite the fact that it was partially her house. This was not helping matters and perhaps it was time to either acknowledge that she had the authority as a parent, or to move out. Either solution would remedy the situation. If I was no longer in the house then she wouldn’t ask me to do household chores. Furthermore, if I accepted her authority then her requests would take priority over pretty much whatever else I was doing at the time. Also, if I didn't follow the rules, by agreeing to Option 1, I would also be agreeing to take any discipline or punishment that arose from breaking the rules. Moving out wasn't an option until I got into a four-year college, and despite my prideful nature, I swallowed my pride and elected to choose Option 1. I stood up, sighed apprehensively, and slowly walked to Sarah's room to talk to her about what I had been considering and what I had decided.

As I approach Sarah's and my Dad's room, I could hear her mumbling curses directed unknowingly at me. As I entered the room, I noticed Sarah had changed out of her work clothes and into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt.

I started to speak, "Sarah, can I talk to you for a second?"

She angrily snapped back, "Now what do you want? You've already ruined my weekend!"

I nervously replied, "I know and, again, I'm sorry. It's actually that I wanted to talk to you about. I know that I seem to forget things for you a lot and I know I've been giving you a hard time lately when you ask me to do things. Up until now, I could only see you as an enemy; someone who was trying to take my mother's place and control my life."

Sarah cut me off, "I've never tried to control your life. I've asked you to follow some simple rules and asked you to do some tasks that wouldn't exactly kill you, and you've fought me every step of the way."

I responded, "I know, I've just realized this after thinking about this major screw up of mine. I'm really sorry that I haven't been giving you the respect you deserve. You've actually done a lot for me and helped me out, a lot - I know that. You treat me better than I treat you, even when we're having a major fight. I guess... well... what I came to say is this: I recognize that this is your house, with my Dad, and that you have the right to lay down rules and I should follow them."

I took a deep, nervous sigh as I moved onto the next and hardest part of what I wanted to say, "I also think that if I break those rules, that you should have the right to discipline me in any way you deem fair and reasonable, starting with this incident."

Sarah was taken aback by this. I’m sure she had never expected me to acknowledge her authority in the house and especially never agree to let her correct me when I broke a rule. That was always my father's job, and all my father ever did was yell at me storm off in a fit. Sarah sat there with a blank expression for at least a full minute while she absorbed what I was telling her.

Finally, her mood lightened up ever so slightly and she said, "First off, I'm glad you finally realized that I was not trying to run your life. I have to admit, at first when I married your father I wasn't thrilled about having a teenager in the house. It was a hard situation to be tossed into, never being a parent and then all of a sudden having to deal with having what is essentially a teenage daughter over whom I have no control or power. At no point, however, did I ever not like you and over the years I've come to think of you as my own daughter despite the fact that we're not related. I'm happy when you have successes and I feel bad for you when you have failures. I do care about you even though it doesn't always look that way."

Her expression then changed to a more serious one, "That being said, I'm also glad that you've decided to recognize that I have authority in this house, as it is my house, too, though of course you’re welcome in it - from both of us. And just like your mother and father, when I make rules or ask you to do something, it's not to unnecessarily restrict you or to control you. It's to keep the peace and create a livable environment for all of us. I also agree that I should have the right to correct you when you don’t follow the rules or do what I ask, as long as what I ask is within reason. If you'll recall, most of that junk that I asked you to get rid of was your stuff that you haven't touched in years and you even said you wanted to get rid of. I don’t think I was being unreasonable."

I replied, "No, you weren't being unreasonable. I've wanted to get rid of that stuff for awhile now."

Sarah continued, "So you agree then that you should be punished for failure to fulfill a reasonable request?"

I stammered, "Ye...yes ma'am. I feel really guilty for wrecking your weekend and I agree that I should be p...p...punished."

I felt like I was 5 years old again. It was almost impossible to say that last word, a word I had not heard applied to myself since before my mother died.

Sarah was silent for a moment while she thought. Then she asked, "What do you think is a fair punishment for this? I'm having a hard time finding one that would be effective or reasonable. Grounding you wouldn't work, since you’ve been spending most of your time this summer in the house anyway. Taking away your computer is unreasonable because you use it for studying. Taking away your TV would do no good because you never watch it, and you have a computer anyway. I can only think of one thing that I find reasonable, but I will not do it unless you agree to it."

I listened as my stepmother listed off the various things that were not acceptable and as she approached the end of her list that contained this one thing, I became both curious and fearful. I felt as though I knew what it was, but didn't want to even think about it if that were the case. I nervously asked, "What is it?"

Sarah responded, "I could give you a spanking. And I don't mean just a few pats on the bottom either. I mean a real spanking like my parents used to give me up until I was 17 years old. I'm not going to lie to you here. It will hurt, badly and it will be done with a hairbrush on your bare backside. I won't force you to take it as I don't feel I have the right to force you into this, but if you really feel this guilty and you feel you should be punished then perhaps you should consider it."

I looked down at my feet. My worst fears were confirmed. I had not had a spanking since I was 5 years old from my mother. I was now 19, basically a full-grown adult woman, and here my 45-year-old stepmother was suggesting I let her spank me like I was 5 again. Another thing concerned me. The spankings I received as a child were never that hard. They never really hurt that badly. Still, I cried during them anyways and was always embarrassed after receiving one. I was really worrying about how bad this would hurt.

I stood there for a few moments, thinking about this, weighing how much my guilty conscience would eat me alive if I refused. Guilt was not something I easily dealt with. It could eat away at me for days before I got over it. The alternative to living with guilt was taking what I knew would be a very painful and very humiliating spanking from Sarah.

After considering it for a few minutes while Sarah waited, I answered, "I'll agree to it, but only if you promise that after it's over this will never be brought up again, and also that you agree never to tell anyone about this, not even my Dad. It's already embarrassing enough to have to be in this position. I would be absolutely mortified if anyone found out about it." Luckily for me, nobody else was home yet as my Dad and sister were not due back for hours.

Immediately Sarah's voice became very parental and authoritative. "Alright, I won't tell anyone about this. It will remain between the two of us. And I've always believed that after a spanking, all is forgiven. Therefore I will never bring up this incident again. Now, go get the hairbrush from the sink in the bathroom and bring it to me."

I replied in a small voice, "Yes, ma'am," and walked into the bathroom to get the hairbrush. I could already feel my bottom tingling from the fear and anticipation of what was about to happen.

As I picked up the hairbrush from the sink I thought about how bad it was going to hurt on my bottom and how sore I'd be afterwards. I was even more embarrassed about having to bare myself in front of my stepmother, a woman who had never seen me naked before, for a spanking like I was still a little kid. I knew from the tone in her voice and the look on her face earlier that she got no pleasure from doing this and I tried to convince myself that particular part of it wouldn't be so bad. She wasn't getting turned on by seeing me naked or anything. It was for one purpose and one purpose alone. That thought, however brought little comfort as I returned to Sarah with the hairbrush.

Sarah took the brush from my hand, positioned herself on the edge of the king size bed halfway between the headboard and foot, put the hairbrush down, and commanded, "Come over here," as she pointed to her right side. I nervously approached and as I did, she took me by the wrist gently but firmly and stood me beside her. She then asked, "Do you want to take off your pants or should I?" I turned red-faced then replied, "I'll do it." I then unbuttoned my jeans and slid both my jeans and underwear down to my ankles, covering myself as I stood back up. My stepmother then said, "Now lay on the bed across my lap."

I managed to keep myself covered while climbing onto the bed with my knees. I then bent forward and rested my pubic area on Sarah's lap, placing my rear in full view of her firm, maternal gaze.

Sarah placed her left arm around my waist, then began to speak, "While you are being spanked you are not to put your hand back there, nor are you to get up until I tell you to. Also, you had better do your best to hold still or it will be worse on you. Do you understand?" I found myself questioning why I ever agreed to this, but since I was already committed I answered, "Yes, ma'am."

She then continued, "I'm going to start out with my hand first because I know you haven't been spanked in a long time and I don't want to make this too severe on you. That's best saved for something really serious. Are you ready?"

I looked straight ahead and said in a tone as if I was pronouncing my own death sentence, "Yes, ma'am."

At that point Sarah raised her hand in the air and brought it down hard on my right cheek. *SMACK*! Immediately I realized this was not going to be good. It didn't hurt so bad that I wanted to cry, but it hurt pretty bad and I knew it was going to build and get much worse from there. Eager to prove my belief correct, Sarah raised her hand again and landed a blow on the other cheek *SMACK*.

More pain! After this Sarah let loose with a fury of smacks to both cheeks *SMACK* *SLAP* *SMACK* *SPLAT* *POP*.

She continued this for about 3 solid minutes nonstop. After about the first minute, I could start to feel a burning pain beginning to build. After the second minute it got so bad that I started to squirm a bit. By the time the third minute came around, tears started to flow as I silently cried to myself, making no sound other than that of my sobbing breath.

After she had finished with her hand she stopped and gave me a minute to compose myself.

She had a firm grip on the situation. After about a minute or so, Sarah picked up the hairbrush and placed it on my bottom, which was already pink from the hand spanking she had just given me. She said, "I'm going to use the hairbrush now. You will stay still during this and remember not to try to use your hand or you will have a very sore hand."

I replied, "Please! I promise I'll do whatever you ask from now on! Please don't do this!" Sarah ignored my pleas, tightened her grip around my waist, raised the hairbrush and brought it down on my already stinging bottom.

*CRACK*

All of a sudden, my world was filled with pain and burning, but it didn't stop there.

*SMACK* *CRACK* *SPLAT*

Unable to hold back any longer, I let out a yelp, "OWWWWW!!!", but that did not deter Sarah in the least as she began to spank and lecture in an authoritative, but not an angry tone at the same time. She may have never given a spanking before, but she had received them more times than she could count and knew what one should be like.

*SPLAT* CRACK* *PLOP* "You are going..." *SPLAT* *SMACK* "... to learn to obey..." *SMACK* *POP* *CRACK* "... the rules I set in this house..." *SPLAT* *CRACK* *SMACK* "... or so help me..." *POP* *CRACK* "... this will happen again..." *CRACK* *SPLAT* *POP* "... do you understand me?"

I by this time had completely broken down in bawling like a little girl as my bottom was completely on fire and nothing in the world could make it stop hurting. I tried clenching and unclenching my buttocks to relieve some of the heat, but to no avail. I replied between sobs *SPLAT* *CRACK* "OWWWW... please stop!" *CRACK* *SPLAT* *POP* "AAAAHHHHHH! I promise..." *POP* *SPLAT* "I'll follow whatever rules you want." *POP* *CRACK* *SPLAT* "Just please stop!!!"

I grabbed onto the bed post in front of me and hung on tightly to prevent myself from putting my hands back there to cover my backside. I was unfortunately unable to keep from squirming and rolling all over the place, but Sarah was strong enough that she managed to keep a tight grip on me. A 19-year-old woman had been reduced to bawling and squirming like a 7-year-old child.

Sarah continued to pummel my backside until it turned a dark shade of red. By this time, I was nearly exhausted and could only lay there and cry continuously. Finally Sarah gave me the concluding 5 hardest smacks.

*SMACK* *CRACK* *SPLAT* *CRACK* *CRACK*

"Owwwwwwwaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!" was the only thing I could manage.

Sarah then laid down the brush on the bed and sat there with me across her knee. For about the first minute after it had stopped, the one thing dominating my entire mind was pain. As I came back to my senses, another wave of embarrassment washed over me, and I continued to sob. Sarah continued to hold me around the waist and she said, "You don’t have to get up yet. I'm going to give you a few minutes to calm down. You can get up after that."

Finally, after about 5 minutes, by which time I had mostly regained my composure and resumed normal breathing, despite my unbelievably sore backside I was allowed to stand up, no longer the least concerned about covering myself this time.

"Turn around and pull up your pants," Sarah started. "Now, you're going to do what I ask you to do and you're going to follow the rules around here from now on, right?" she continued.

After pulling up my pants, I turned back to face her and replied in a contrite tone, "Yes ma'am, whatever you say. I'm so sorry to have caused so much trouble for you."

Sarah looked at me and gave me a small smile, then took me in her arms and hugged me tightly, much like a mother embracing her daughter.

"It's ok... it's over now," she explained. "We'll never bring it up again, just like you said. Just follow the rules from now on and this won't ever happen again. Ok?"

Beginning to feel a sense of comfort despite the pain, I replied, "Ok, Sarah."

Sarah then took both my arms in her hands and gently moved me away so she could look in my eyes and asked, "And I know I'm asking a lot, but would it be so bad if you could please call me Mom from now on? You don't have to, and I know I'll never replace your mother, but I'd appreciate it if you would please doing me this one favor."

I considered this for a minute mentally going over the criteria to see if Sarah could become synonymous with Mom. She cared for me, she supported me, she helped me and gave me advice, and now she was disciplining me. Now that I knew she cared about me, it was possible for me to care about her. I continued to think and finally I replied two words that only a day ago I would have laughed at you if you said I would be saying them, "Ok... Mom."

She then told me I could go.

I walked back to my room rubbing my sore backside. Once I got into my room I closed the door and took off my pants and laid down on my bed on my stomach, continuing to rub some of the pain away.

I looked back and noticed that my bottom was very red and would probably have a bruise or two on it the following day.

=================================

top photo credit and original post @spankingwishes

text credit - author unknown.

annoyingwizard

After a long courtship with their father, and having her see how both of the *children* behaved over time; the first order of business, after she became their mother, was to have a punishment room built in the basement of the home.

It was nothing short of amazing, how fast *the children’s* behavior improved. Especially so, when you take into consideration, that, the *children* were twenty year old twins.

The lauding of praise and encouragement she got from neighbors and close family members did nothing for their [joint] campaign to have her strict policies done away with.

Whatever you’re doing, she was told, keep it up! She smiled and said to those that offered such support [tongue and cheek], It’s Not so much what I keep up; as it is to what I take down (eluding to the fact that she spanks a bare bottom).

Her control over the former non-responsive, undisciplined pair was never more evident than when over relatives’ houses; where, when either of them had to be *corralled in* all it took was a jester to “get over here” and a whispered warning into the *child’s* ear, that usually got the undesirable behavior to cease- immediately.

When questioned, as to how she managed to exert such *influence*, she said, as non committal as she could be, I just give them a *glimpse* into a possible immediate future - One that would definitely not be as comfortable for them as they appreciate now. I simply offer them a choice. She left the *details* dangling and left to the imagination, as “how uncomfortable* or exactly how she would make their *future* uncomfortable. But it was really No secret.

The *children* were made to attend church with her. and there were times when one or both of them had *noticeable* trouble sitting down on the hard pews. At times like these there were *golf applause* or knowing head shakes, approving of her continuing effort to raise well behaved children (even if the children were “almost” adults].

#stepmom

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joe9cool · 1 year

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Collide-Justin Herbert-14

A/N. Before this chapter starts I want to say I only own my Characters. The LA Chargers, their employees are real people. The gossip is for storylines only. I don't know their stories in reality. This is my story and doesn't reflect their real lives. Thank you.

"Alright, we got everything?" Sara yawned and nodded her head as she got in the car. It was 2am and Justin wanted to be at his parents by the afternoon. She could understand he didn't get to see his family very often during the season and he was excited. Despite the fact that she was exhausted, his happiness rubbed off on her.

Everything was packed up. Nova was asleep in her carrier, still on a high after the catnip she was given. They began the eight hour drive. Justin's phone was navigating, even though he insisted he knew where he was going.

She loaded up on snacks. She packed protein bars, cookies, an uncrustable and Capri suns. (Justin busted out laughing when he saw that one.) He was a bit annoyed when she made him stop at the twenty four hour dunkin donuts. (She placed an order ahead and ran inside in disguise to get it) however the stop was in handy as he sipped the coffee she got him and ate some of the sandwich.

"Just let me know when you want to switch." Justin rolled his eyes. "Babe, I did this drive all by myself. I'm fine. Also be careful of the liquids, we are going to be hitting a long stretch with no rest stop."

"It's dark, I'll just pee on the side of the road." He sighed. "That's fine. I got my water bottle if I need to go." Sara wrinkled her nose up in disgust. "Ewww boys." He laughed. "Hey its extremely effective."

She used the car's Bluetooth to play some music. He didn't have any preferences so she put on Lord Huron. While listening to "meet me in the city" she told him about her upcoming projects with the band. He was genuinely interested in hearing about what she had planned.

Justin felt bad about not paying attention in the past. Truth was he was all science and sports. Yes he watched movies, but he never really thought about the background of what went into it. Sara explaining her being behind the camera and coming up with ideas. It was fascinating.

"I had no idea you selected the music for the scenes of your show. That's awesome." He smiled, proud of his girl. "I'm going to be honest though. I have never seen a single episode. So I don't understand it."

Sara was a little hurt. "Well it's about college kids coming together after leaving their small town, conservative neighborhoods. You know, coming of age. I'm shocked you haven't seen an episode. Have you heard of it at least?" He nodded. "We have to watch it together."

"Oh no I don't watch anything I'm in. Unless I have to, like a movie premiere that's it. I'll never see it again." He looked at her as he signaled to get on the expressway. "Why?"

"I am my worst critic, I cringe when I see myself." She shrugged. "I guess going back to my high-school days where I would do plays and then my family would critique me."

Justin never thought of it that way. He was forced to watch his old games to go over mistakes he made. He didn't care for it, but it was part of the game. It brought him to another thought. "Well on the topic of your family." He began. "You never talk about yours really."

"I love my immediate family. But I don't know. Sometimes I feel like a disappointment."

"Thats ridiculous. You are more successful than them combined." He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Sara nodded. "I guess, but my family is very businesslike, very Wall street. My dad is a CEO of Lincoln Financial, an investment company. My mom is an economics professor at the local community College. My oldest sister Katie is a financial advisor along with her husband. Middle one Brittany is a lawyer, same as her husband. Alyssa is a stay at home mom. But she has her degree in Pre law, and then there's me."

"You have a degree in psychology though."

Sara sighed. "So did Katie, but my dad made her go to business school because he didn't see any potential in it. When I told my dad I was going to do psychology in high school, he was mad. But hoping I would use it for pre med and pre law. When I told him it was a backup because I wanted to be in the entertainment industry my parents agreed that they wouldn't pay for it. Not a dime. They covered my sisters tuition and dorm fully,but not me. It hurts, I think they feel bad about doubting that. But they never said anything to me."

She smiled. "They have my back and are very supportive. But I don't know, I feel left out sometimes. They were all very athletic and involved, whereas I hated playing sports. I hated being put out there at something I wasn't good at. It wasn't until I joined theater in middle school that I found my niche. My parents rarely went to my plays, usually because it fell around nationals for Alyssa cause she was in dance.

"Not to be rude, but I don't really consider dancing a sport." Justin shrugged his shoulders. "What about aunts and uncles?"

She rolled her eyes. "My aunt is the fucking worst. Always cuts me up when no one is around. She will Make sure to remind me I'll never be good enough like my sisters or small like them" He looked at her questioningly. "I'm the tallest, and the largest in body frame. It pisses her off that her oldest isn’t in show business because she’s prettier.”

Justin was mad. "Fuck them. You don't need them." He grabbed her hand. He noticed she was shaking. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"It's fine, we had to talk about it eventually." Speaking of which, she had to talk to him about leaving in January. That would be a topic when they got home, she decided. Wanting to get off sad topics she smiled. "I hope your mom has all the baby books out."

He groaned and she laughed. "As soon as I told her you were coming my dad texted me and said she was in the crawl space digging them out." She giggled. "Aww come on you were probably the cutest kid. She pinched his cheeks. "Baby Justin with the chubby cheeks oh my god." He smiled and blushed. "Stop it."

She laughed. "So it's your mom, dad, and Patrick right?" He nodded. "Yes, Mitch is in New York in med school. Funny though you took a picture with his girlfriend when you were in New York."

"Really? Wow what a small world." He smiled. After a minute he asked. "Did you tell your family about us?"

There it was. He was worried if more people knew. "Don't worry, I didn't say anything." She said.

He furrowed his eyebrows. It actually hurt to know that her parents didn't know anything. "May I ask why?"

"Well for starters I know you don't want many people to know about us so I just didn't say Justin understood the first part. He did value his privacy, but he didn't realize how much his comments hurt Sara. "It's not that I don't want people to know. I'm okay with close friends. It's just when it gets revealed to the public I know things will change." He thought back to his and Bella's conversation. "You have to give me time to adjust." She turned towards him, surprised. "Really?"

"Yes. Sara I really like you and see this going somewhere. I think it's time we discussed going forward. I don't see this as a casual fling."

She smiled and grabbed his hand, kissing it "I see this going somewhere too." He smiled. "I'm glad."anything. Also my family is very overwhelming. The moment I say I'm seeing someone they will be on the first plane to Cali to grill you. Then the others will know and I'm not going to subject you to scrutiny."

She was quiet for a moment

"Can I confess something?" He looked at her. "I thought you were just going to be a fling."

He was surprised. "Really?" She nodded. "I kinda swore off dating for a while. Then I saw you at the wedding and thought you were cute and tall." She laughed. "I approached you thinking it was going to be a one night stand thing. But then I just chickened out and called you for a date."

He laughed. "Well I'm honored. Can I be honest as well? I wasn't going to call at all, I was too intimidated." She busted out laughing. "I knew, that's why I called you."

They laughed together. "That was really bold of me. I thought for sure you would go for someone like me."

"What makes you say that?"

She almost said it. It was on the tip of her tongue. She chickened out again. " Well don't pro athletes usually go for skinny blonde girls?" She noticed his hesitation. "I'm going to be honest, I've just always ended up with blondes. But I like brunettes as well. I got a gorgeous one right next to me." She cooed.

She was happy, this was the most honest conversation they ever had since their relationship. It was progress, and while Sara could admit that she was toxic in the way that she never really injected herself in his hobbies she felt really guilty over invading his privacy. She had no reason not to trust him. He was with her almost twenty four seven. There was no reason to suspect him cheating his own teammate backed him up.

A teammate she was stringing along.

As on cue her phone buzzed and it was Joey.

Hey

It was four in the morning. What could he want? Her read receipts were on unfortunately. Still she decided to ignore it

She looked at Justin, she needed a distraction. "You know what I'm most excited for?" She asked

"Hmm."

"To see your childhood bedroom."

"Why?"

"I don't know, because of the memories you have tied to it. Where you had your struggles, how you celebrated the highs and dealt with the lows. Photos of your friends and family. Also I'm sure you have jerseys hung up. I want to thank you for trusting me with that "

He smiled. "I'm happy to reveal it to you. I know I'm not the most open guy and I struggle with feelings, but this is important to me, you're important to me."

Sara's heart was going to burst with joy and love. "Well technically I got the hard part over, I met your parents." He laughed. "Yeah now you get to meet my youngest brother. Which is easy, he's a pain in the ass though. I'm sure he would say the same for me."

"What would he have to say about you?"

Justin laughed. "That I beat up on him a Lot, which I did when I was younger. Also I was a neat freak."

"You still are, you got me containers for my makeup and toiletries to keep them separate."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay? And you find what you're looking for faster." She was silent for a moment. "Okay, point taken."

Another couple hours went by with some playful bickering about the music. (He joked that her music was depressing and she said he had the taste of a dad going through a mid life crisis.) They settled into a comfortable silence. Finally Sara saw the 'Welcome to Oregon' sign. She squeezed his hand tighter.

It was nice to see the change. Even though they just crossed the border she noticed Justin looked more relaxed than he had the past couple of weeks. She knew how stressed he was, so she hoped he could truly relax and reset, seek comfort in his family. The weather changed to dark and dreary. "I love it" She said.

"What?' She blushed as she realized she spoke her thoughts out loud. "This weather. I love it, perfect weather to be in bed, reading a book, sleeping. Or making love."

They came to a red light and he glanced at her. "my house in Oregon isn't as glamorous as LA. But I love it "

"Justin because I'm a Hollywood actress doesn't mean I have people waiting on me hand and foot. I don't need fancy things, my house is pretty modest for LA isn't it?"

He nodded "yes. I'm sorry. I don't mean it offensively. My idea of Hollywood starlets is completely different." He paused. "Still can't believe I met Bella Hadid." She laughed. "Crazy isn't it? When she was up and coming I was still in my college dorm."

"Yeah and I was starting at Oregon." She felt bad. This is his trip for him, and she wanted this to be about him. This territory was for his stories to tell.

It was still a bit before they hit Eugene, but Sara was already in love. It was gorgeous and the scenery was perfect. The fall really brought that out, completely atmosphere from the busy Los Angeles. Justin looked at Sara as she took in the sights. As they were on the road she offered to switch many times, as they initially agreed to share the driving responsibilities. But Justin had no intention of doing that. He wanted her to take in the scenery, and he had done this drive many times by himself.

Plus this made him feel like a man, driving his girl to locations. He loved that he was so much bigger than her. He loved that she comforted him during hard times, that she validated his feelings. Everything about her was perfect. He loved watching her get ready in the morning. He loved that she was the first person he spoke to in the morning and the last one he spoke to before he fell asleep

It was in that moment he realized he loved everything about her

He loved Sara Christine Wozniak.

The realization hit him so hard that he didn't start driving until the car behind them honked and startled them both. Embarrassed, he began driving while Sara laughed at him. She was scrolling instagram and decided to post photos she took in LA the other day while out. Just in case she had to cover her tracks.

It's a good thing she did.

Twitteruser: My dad just saw Justin Herbert in Oregon! Looks like he's taking a break

I would need a break from Lombardis offense.

Probably re enrolling in OSU to play ball there.

Was he with anyone?

Twitteruser: he said there was someone in the seat next to him. Looked like a girl with dark hair, had a baseball cap on.

Are you sure it was him? I thought he was dating that blonde reporter.

Twitteruser: yeah long hair, silver Porsche with the Oregon plate. He said he couldn't get a look at the girl, who was very secretive.

He probably has a secret girlfriend and is using Taylor as a cover up

Twitteruser7: what a player.

Yeah dude needs to focus on ball and not pussy.

On Tumblr.

Anon message : have you seen this? [Link to tweet] interesting. I like the theory that he has a secret girlfriend she probably lives in Oregon

Interesting anon. However we don't know if this is legit. Let's not make this a thing and go through all of his followers with dark hair and message them.

Anon2: what are your thoughts?

I'm not going to add any fuel to the fire. I have my own opinions but he's a twenty four year old guy having fun. I'm thrown for a loop cause I was pretty sure I knew who he was seeing, and it wasn't a brunette.

Anon: Maybe it's Sara?

I know for sure it isn't Sara Wozniak. She was posting photos of Los Angeles. I can't see them together. Sorry. Now unless there's photo evidence I really don't want to talk about this.

Anon: great another girl to add to the list for these crazies to stalk. He's home, maybe it's a fucking relative.

True, he has plenty of female relatives with dark hair. I'm surprised he went home though, he told the media he was just going to treat it like any other week.

Anon: he didn't want any scrutiny. He needs to reset and I feel that this is good for him. See family and recharge, glad to see he has a support team.

Yes this will be a good mental reset before next week.

Sara’s anxiety began to spike as Justin got off the main roads and turned on a residential street. She could see Autzen stadium in the distance and smiled thinking of how Justin played there.

"we're going to my house first to drop off our stuff. Maybe get a nap in." He yawned and saw it was 11am. He looked over at Sara. "That sound good?"

"That's perfect. We would have gotten here a lot faster If I drove." She teased. He was a rule follower, only going the max five over.

"Okay hun, and you had how many speeding tickets?"

She huffed. "Only two and the cops in Pennsylvania are jerks. I was running late for school." He laughed as he pulled into his driveway. She took in the sight, it was alot smaller than his home in California, but it was nice, and homey. Perfect home for a family to grow in. They pulled into the garage and once the door was closed He jumped out and opened the door for her. She grabbed Nova’s carrier and litter box and made sure to set it up as soon as he unlocked the door.

They had a brief back and forth about the bags. (She reminded him he was still injured.,) and they settled in. "I'm going to assume you have nothing." She opened the fridge and was surprised when it was fully stocked with everything. Justin smiled. "My mom stocked up on everything when I told her we were coming. Also Patrick uses this place when his girlfriend comes to visit." She nodded in understanding before she unpacked everything in his room. It was a similar setup to Los Angeles. Once that was done she smiled as she took in the photos. He had his trophies, memories of his time at University of Oregon. There was one trophy she was memorized by.

"Thats the Campbell trophy." Justin came up behind her and caressed her shoulders. "It's awarded to the most academic athlete."

Sara leaned into his embrace. "You're so smart. Tell me something, I found an article that said you were looking into med school if the NFL didn't work out."

"That's crap. People assumed that because of Mitch. I didn't really want that. I probably would have been a biology teacher like my dad. I was a teacher's assistant and I really liked that."

"Hmm so you would have been the hot guy sitting next to the professor. I would have tried to hook up with you?" He smiled. "You would?"

She laughed. "Naw this was at college. I would have stared at you like a weirdo and stalked your social media."

"Jokes on you, I didn't have social media. Plus we probably wouldn't have had any classes together." Acknowledging the two year age gap." Sara nodded. "When you were at UCLA did you attend any football games?"

Sitting on the bed she thought about it. "Yes, my roommate freshman year was dating someone on the football team so I went. But I wasn't really interested, so I went to a party with the team. Told one of the guys I wanted to be an actress and he laughed before he tried to fuck me."

Justin sat next to her. "What happened?"

"As soon as the show took off he was in my DMs, he also told the press that I fucked him and was a 'wild animal in bed'

"Asshole."

"I mean what are you going to do? My friends stood up for me, it was a back and forth on twitter. I don't want to talk about that though " She laid on the bed. "I want to take a nap and maybe have a snack later. Then we will meet everyone."

He began to strip off his clothes, "that sounds like a good plan to me." Sara followed suit, and when they were stripped down to their underwear they crawled underneath the covers. Justin pulled Sara to him. Content and relaxed, they fell asleep, ready to enjoy their mini vacation.

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

It was 2 o'clock when she woke up to an empty bed, slipping on her glasses, she sat up and stretched. She heard commotion in the kitchen? She heard voices, however it wasn't Holly or Mark's.

"Bro I'm sorry I didn't know you were here already."

"Shh you're gonna wake her up." She knew Justin's voice.

"Who?"

"My girlfriend, dipshit. Besides, don't you have practice or something?"

The unrecognizable voice. "Well you get certain perks when your team has a winning record, you remember that don't you?"

"Shut up?"

"Wait a second, girlfriend? When the fuck did this happen?"

"Four months."

"Mom and dad know?

She could tell her boyfriend was irritated. "Yes they know they met her when they visited LA. So does Mitch too."

Wait, Mitch knows? That was news to her, in a good way. But he never mentioned that.

"So you're telling me you just show up here with a girl that the whole family knows about except me? Well dude I want to meet her!"

"Not now! When she wakes up and gets ready we will be over Mom and Dad's for dinner!"

A laugh. "Oh so you had to break in the bed first huh? Ceremonial first girl in the house."

She heard a slap and then an "ow" following. She stifled a laugh, knowing how red Justin probably was. "Shut up Patrick."

Oh so that was Patrick, the youngest of the Herbert brothers. She should have figured that out. She wanted to go out there and meet him but not like this. It was best to pretend she was still sleeping.

"Well you're in luck cause Carly surprised me as a late birthday gift."

She heard the panic in Justin's voice. "She's here? You didn't tell me she was here. I wasn't planning for that."

"I know, that's why I said surprise genius. She got here last night."

"Well, she isn't coming tonight is she?"

"Uh yeah she's staying with me. You never had an issue with her being over. What's the deal?" Oh he was worried about her knowing. God forbid one more person knew about them.

Anger flared up inside of her, but then she thought rationally. She was a big Star, and if someone blew their cover that was it. However, she would think Patrick's girlfriend would be trustworthy.

The rest of their conversation turned to Oregon games. They had come off of a win vs UCLA so there was a lot of trash talking on Pat's end. Once he had left she heard Justin head towards the room and she quickly laid back down and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. She heard him enter and felt the bed move. His large arm wrapped around her stomach. He kissed her cheek. "I know you're not asleep." She could hear the smile. She steadied her breathing, putting on the performance of a lifetime. "You can pull that with anyone else but you can't with me. You don't like to sleep on your back." Still, she persisted.

His finger slid down her side, creeping up on her side, he moved towards her arm Pitt and she held her breath. One night he discovered her weakness that she was extremely ticklish and used that to his advantage. Of course he was going to use it here and she felt his hand move off of her and she thought she was in the clear, but to no avail as he went to the other spot which was her neck. He began to poke at the sides of her neck. Her lips moved, then she gave up and began laughing really hard. Justin joined in. "Gotcha!" He kept up the antics and Sara tried shoving him away. "Jerk! That's not fair." He kissed her.

"How long have you been up?"

"Long enough to know Pat came." He rolled his eyes. "You can ignore him, he's an ass." She smiled and kissed him, he responded. Soon enough their tongues were battling for dominance. Of course he had to win. He grabbed her neck and she moaned. The kiss was broken "so, if you want." Justin breathed. "I never gave you a tour of the house."

"I want a tour of something else." She reached underneath his shirt. He grabbed her hands and held them to her sides. "I think the house tour is more important." The smile on her face told her everything. Jerk was teasing her. "Besides, patience is a virtue." He got off the bed and motioned for her to follow him. Upon stealing one of his shirts she followed him.

He took his sweet time explaining each room, how each appliance worked. She tried so hard to pay attention when he would go into detail explaining something significant that happened to him or a memory. It was hard to focus when he looked delicious. She had known before the conversation with Patrick he must have showered cause she noticed his hair was wet. Also he was shirtless, a massive weakness for her and he knew it. Again, what a jerk. Justin took her into the basement and she gasped. It was a guy setup with a bar, a pool table, a video game setup with a big television. That wasn't what grabbed Sara’s attention, there was a piano in the corner collecting dust. She noticed he was looking at her. "I didn't know you played."

"I don't. I bought it for decoration from my buddy. You play?" She nodded. "One of the first things my parents enrolled me in. I always thought it was such a beautiful instrument. My brother in law plays too." She walked over and ran her hands over the keys. "Have you thought about taking lessons?" He shrugged. "Not really. It's just for decoration.

"Such a shame, I think you would look hot. If you want I can show you some basics." He smiled. "I'd like that a lot." He walked towards her. "You want to see the backyard. "

"You got a swing set?" He raised his eyebrows. "A swing set?"

"Or a hammock?" He shook his head no. "Come on Herbert!"

"What? I only grill in my backyard, and it's not hot enough for a pool." He smirked. "I do have a hot tub. Which Patrick uses for recovery."

"Really Justin? You should have told me! I didn't pack any swimwear!"

"That shouldn't stop you. I mean, we can just skinny dip." She turned to see the mischievous smile on his face. "Hmm I don't know. I'm saving myself for marriage."

He busted out laughing. "Yeah okay. You call what you did something a virgin would do?"

"I'm a woman of many talents." He let out a "hmph" sound and grabbed her hand to lead her back upstairs. Once they reached the top of the stairs Sara thought about the time they needed to be at his parents house. "I should start getting ready."

"It's only three we got a couple of hours."

"Thank God I made those cookies yesterday."

"You know my parents wouldn't care if you brought something or not."

"And I told you this before Italians never show up empty handed." She thought about that comment she made to Joey. While Justin and Patrick were talking, she saw he had messaged her a couple times wishing her a good trip and to let him know how it goes. She wasn't going to respond to him. "I need to get ready." Before Jusgin could respond she went back to the room and began sorting through her bags to find her makeup. Once she did she plugged in her curling iron. Her hair wasn't due for a washing but she felt her body did, so she quickly did once over in the shower and got out. It was nice and cool in the room, so she decided to just get ready naked.

She was doing skincare when Justin walked in. He was enjoying the view of her bent over the bathroom counter. Their eyes met in the mirror and she knew the look on his face. "Justin, no we do not have time. I need to get ready."

He leaned against the doorframe. "It's not going to take you the whole two hours to get ready. I only need ten minutes." She pushed out of the way to grab something from her bag and he followed her like a lost puppy. "Baby."

"Justin, not now. Once we stop we won't be able to stop." He smirked. "I could just say you're too tired from the trip." She rolled her eyes smiling. "You can't wait a couple of hours? Patience is a virtue." She used his words against him. He groaned. "Damn it Sara." She laughed and shooed him out the room so she could get ready in peace.

He sat on the bed and watched her routine as she applied her skincare. As much as he fussed about her doing the facial on him, he secretly loved it. "We can do another facial night if you want."

"I knew you would love the skincare routine!" She called. He couldn't resist and smirked. "Who said anything about skincare." She whipped around and playfully glared at him. "Oh I have a dirty mouth huh? You got photos of me with your baby gravy on my face."

He wrinkled his face. "Well I'm not turned on anymore. What I meant was you could sit on my face." He noticed she stopped her makeup application. Justin smirked as the tables turned. She glared at him. "I know what you're trying to do and it's not working." She looked down at her phone. "Times are ticking. I don't want to be late."

"Okay I'm done." He took out his phone and began to browse instagram. "Hey Sara, do you have a personal account on Instagram?"

"Yes, it's ChristopherW14. He typed it in and found it. The profile was locked, and it showed a picture of a guy overlooking the sunset. "Who is this?"

Her makeup was done and she was spraying something on her face. "It's a random picture I found on Google. So far no one has detected it being me. It's a I don't even follow it on my page " He hit the request, and a few seconds later her phone buzzed with the notification. She accepted it and headed into the room to get dressed. It was cool, so she decided on some light jeans and a gray t-shirt with a checkered sweater. She looked at Justin who was in his usual Nike attire. It was him, it was charming. He noticed her stare and he was self conscious. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. You look good." He blushed. "Stop, I feel like a slob compared to you." She walked up to him and stood on her tippy toes to kiss shit chin. "I would still smash." He smirked. "Gave you the opportunity, but noooo you said we will be late. My parents are down the block." She rolled her eyes and went to grab her purse. "Let's go". He led her to the garage and she was confused before she could ask if they could just walk. She remembered he didn't want the neighbors to notice. While he was not a big star in Los Angeles, he was a big celebrity here.

She couldn't help but laugh though as he backed out of his driveway and pulled into his parents driveway in less than two seconds. Their home was set up exactly like Justin's, except there were female touches to let her know that his mother was there. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door and Sara took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves

The first thing she noticed was a large black dog bounding towards her at full speed. Before Justin could yell or stop the dog she found herself on her ass and laughed as the dog excitedly sniffed and barked while his paws where on his shoulder.

"DYLAN!" Holly rounded the corner as Justin grabbed the dog's collar to pull him off of his girlfriend. "Oh my god I'm so sorry he gets so excited around new people." Sara got off the ground. "It's okay, I love dogs. He's a good boy." She scratched his tail and that calmed him down. Once he recognized Justin he was excited and began whimpering and trying to jump on him. "Yeah now you noticed me. Miss you buddy." Justin patted the dog. "Pat must have forgotten to lock him up "

"What kinda dog is he?"

"Lab mixed with Pyrenees." Holly and Sara embraced. "So nice to see you again."

"Same to you. I love your house." It was warm and inviting. You could tell a loving family lived there. "Oh thank you, Mark is outside finishing up lawn work. He does these things at the silliest times. Come on, everyone else is in the kitchen." The young couple followed Holly as they entered. Sara could see Patrick and a blonde woman, their backs facing her.

Patrick turned around, and as soon as he made eye contact with Sara he froze. It was comical really.

"Pat what's wron-" the woman who was presumed to be Carly, turned around and froze. Shock flooded both of their system as they came face to face with the woman who was on the big screen and their TV screens

Sara was used to this reaction, however coming from someone she was trying to impress was a bit nerve wracking " she smiled awkwardly and waved. "Hi I'm Sara." She addressed Justin's brother first. "You must be Patrick." She held out her hand for him to shake. "It's really nice to meet you." Carly snapped out her daze first and grabbed her hand. "Oh wow! It's nice to meet you! Wow, um Patrick told me Justin was seeing someone but… wow." Sara had to laugh. "I'm so sorry, we are just a little star struck right now. Aren't we?" She hit Pat in the ribs with her elbow and he suddenly remembered where he was. "Oh yeah where are my manners? I'm so sorry! Hi I'm Pat." He shook her hand. He looked at Justin. "How the hell did you land her?"

"Patrick!" Holly slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry Sara, I wish Mitch was here, he is the less obnoxious one out of these two." Justin feigned hurt. "Hey now don't lump me in with Patrick"

Carly rolled her eyes. "You are both idiots. Even Mitch has his moments. You can ask Isobel." They were interrupted when Mark came in the back door. "Oh you guys arrived. Hello Sara. I'd hug you but I got to shower first." She smiled. "That's okay, good to see you again Mr. Herbert " "It's Mark remember" He winked. Patrick interrupted.

"Wow so this is why you guys didn't say anything. Well welcome. Sorry I acted a little off putting, it's not everyday my brother brings home a movie Star, or a girl for that matter." Sara laughed, and her fears sorta melted away. So far The rest of the Herbert family was cool, and if Mitch was like this, then that would be a breeze.

"Holly, do you need help with anything?" Sara set the container of cookies down (which almost were crushed by the massive dog) rounding the corner she could see Holly was sautéing vegetables. "No thank you Sweetie. Everything is almost done." As on cue the oven beeped. She put on the oven mitts and opened the oven to reveal a small turkey. Justin saw it as well. "Gosh mom, I didn't realize it was thanksgiving." He joked

She put the turkey on the counter. "Oh stop it, it's rare to have you home so I thought it would make it special." Patrick smiled. "See? And Mitch isn't here. Obviously we are the favorite sons."

"I never said that." Mark came downstairs, hair wet from the shower. "Looks good babe," He kissed Holly, and Sara smiled. They reminded her of her parents and how they interacted. She noticed Justin looking at her and they met eyes and smiled.

Holly finished up the sides and announced to everyone that they can fill their plates. Mark carved the turkey while everyone helped themselves. They took their seats and began eating. Sara had to say, the food was delicious and she complimented Holly on it. Conversation was flowing and she loved it. It felt like family. It felt like home.

"I'm sorry I have to ask. How on earth did you two meet?" Carly looked between her and Justin. "He is the most shy guy I've ever met. When I came over for the first time. He was just in his room, barely said hi. I thought he hated me."

"I was preparing for the rose bowl! I was really focused. Justin defended himself. "Anyways. We met at Joe Grant's wedding in July."

"Didn't know you had the game or the confidence to approach her." Patrick smiled.

Justin closed his eyes. He knew what was going to come next. Sara chimed in with a smirk. " I was the one who made the move. I approached him, gave him my number, called him, and set up the date."

Patrick busted out laughing. "I should have known! I knew he didn't have the balls." He slapped his older brother on the back. "I can already tell she's too good for you "

Mark chimed in. "Hey! Don't scare her off I like her" Sara felt warm at that comment. When she first met Mark he was nice, but he wasn't open like Holly, and being emotional with anxiety it worried her. She was still incredibly nervous and as much as tried not to show it Justin picked up on it. She was twisting the ring on her middle finger and under the table he noticed her leg Bouncing. At one point he put his hand on her knees to steady her. She looked over and he met her with a reassuring smile.

Meanwhile The Herbert family (including Carly) were noticing these things. Justin was attentive to Sara, asking if she needed anything or making sure to include her in the conversation. The glances he stole were filled with adoration and…. Love. Patrick and Holly met eyes many times and they spoke a thousand words without saying anything. Mark was taking it all in, smiling to himself.

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

"I love your family." Sara couldn't stop grinning as she got into bed. Justin looked up from his book. Setting it down, he kissed her on the cheek. "I'm glad. They love you too, you know."

She looked over. "You really think so?" He knew she was looking for that reassurance. He smiled. "I wouldn't lie about something like that." And he wouldn't. "My mom likes that you call me out on my shit."

After dinner, they got on the topic of board games in which it led them to a loud boisterous game of Jenga, and then Sorry! (In which Sara finally beat him to Patrick's happiness." They didn't leave his parents house til about midnight. Patrick was leaving Friday for his game at California. However Justin and Patrick were going to the Oregon practice facilities early before everyone else to get some throws in. Holly and Sara echoed the same concerns. They didn't want Justin getting hurt while attempting the throws not being under supervision of the Chargers. "Are you sure you want to throw tomorrow?"

He laid down and faced her. "I'll be fine, you really think I didn't clear it with the medical team before we left?" His tone had 'duh' written all over and Sara felt dumb "Well when you say it like that I feel stupid." He kissed her cheek. "Don't feel that way. Now let's get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow. She raised her eyebrow in questioning. "Make sure you get your golf stuff ready while I'm gone. I got the course where I held my event closed down for me, you and my dad." He saw the apprehension on her face. "Don't worry you will be fine."

She was a little bit worried. Golf was still athletic and she wasn't the best person to explore athletics. Maybe that's why she insulted him and put golf down a little bit. However it was important to him and she wanted to show him that she would at least try.

Justin turned off the light and cuddled next to her. With a sigh she settled against him and closed her eyes.

A.N. Welcome to the adventures in Oregon!

#justin herbert #sara and justin canon #alexa writes collide #nfl #nfl imagine

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aesopsbaby · 1 year

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yes!! YESS!!!!! can you do umm meztli x trickster (sweet carnage) please?? qwq I.. I just love them so much qwq hmm pretty sure I don't have to give some info about them and umm let's see...

a scenario of both of them getting caught by the police and have to stay in the same cell for a while and they have your typical dynamic argument. For a while they just sorta say "they're so stupid for putting us in the same cell" "how long should we give them before we bust out?" you know? like oil and vinegar they would make a pretty good team but they don't mix! but still a pinch of romance >:3

sorry if it's a bit complicated!! feel free to change some things or if you have a better suggestion!! ^^,,

also I'm sorry for being such a big fan of them, I just really love the trope "enemies to lovers" qwq,, <,3 <,3

Note: I love this prompt sm! I hope I did this justice :,]]

Characters involved: Trickster (@boiling-potato oc), Meztli (My oc)

Event type: Imagine/drabble

"For fucks sake!" A voice yelled, a deafening boom followed soon after. Meztli groaned, letting his fist relax and his arm to fall limp to his side having knocked it so violently against the metal wall.

His eyes instantly drifted to the guards standing around outside, beyond the bars that are currently holding him hostage. Clenching his teeth, Meztli cursed under his breath at the lack of reaction he received from them.

A sigh reached his ears, causing him to glance back, "You're real annoying, ya know that?"

Meztli clicked his tongue, turning his body around to face none other than, "Yeah? Is this annoying to you then, Trickster?" The corner of his lips twitched upwards as he continue to knock against the walls annoyingly, causing vibrations to echo and bounce off the walls.

Eyeing the green haired figure who merely grunted, shaking her head and messaging her temple in irritation just managed to rile Meztli up even more.

Sensing that she got used to it after awhile made Meztli's smile fade into a sneer, once again disappointed at the lack of attention on him. He moved towards her, taking a seat beside her and leaning his weight on his two hands behind his back.

Silence washed over the two, this was uncommon. Very..odd, and extremely out of character for the both of them, especially when they're together. However, the guards could care less, as long as they weren't making any more noise, it's fine by them.

"How stupid can they possibly be." Trickster muttered, a slight snicker escaping her lips as she glared daggers at the guards. Meztli could only keep up his smirk as he let his tense body finally relax. How stupid. Little did the guards know, this duo had been communicating in morse code, with their hands behind their back, tapping away on the metal bench and feeling the light vibrations.

Meztli murmured, "I can't believe they'd actually put us in the same cell..!" He paused for a moment before letting evident anger show on his facial features,he seethe through his teeth, "What the fuck...are they seriously looking down on us?? They think we're that pathetic?"

Trickster revealed her hands, stretching them infront of her and then above her head. A warm up.

The police were smart, having the opportunity to catch them.

But, they're definitely not smarter than compared to, when Trickster and Meztli are working together.

"How long should we let them believe they actually got the upper hand?" Trickster finally spoke without a hush in her voice. A smile pulling on her lips as she turned to face Meztli, who was already looking at her with an all-knowing smirk.

#MootsTalks #ForMoots #Aesopsbaby drabbles event #event #MootsOCs #Trickster #AesopeOCs #Meztli #Sweet Carnage #FFO

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kryptoniteheadcanons · 1 year

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Thoughts on Black Christmas (2019)

Uhh....brief mentions of sexual assault. Spoilers I guess ...it’s Black Christmas 2019 I don’t think anyone cares.

- I don’t know if I'm going to make a separate post comparing the three of the movies, I might end up saying everything I need to say in this review.

- Once again, stop making remakes and sequels that have nothing to do with the original.

- That snow angle shot was actually pretty cool, I like it.

- This movie being set at christmas is just as arbitrary as the first one.

- Yeah, that diva cup thing was pretty awkward. Why did there have to be complete silence while she was putting it in? You couldn’t have used that time for dialogue?

- Oh hi Cary Elwes ….didn’t expect to see you here.

- God I fucking hate it when professors call on you even though you didn’t raise your hand.

- Also they make Cary’s character so fucking creepy that the first time I saw this I he assaulted Riley.

- “He totally went off on me because I asked why there were no women, or people of color, or queer people on the syllabus.” Yeah that is weird, most classics lists i’ve seen for colleges, even in 2019, at least have like Frankenstein or a book by one of the Bronte sisters. You have to be trying to not have a woman on the list. (Also: I don’t think they ever mentioned any of their majors? I feel like that would have been a good thing for character building, at least for Riley)

- Yes, Riley does need to take back her agency and learn how to live her life again, but I don’t think getting up on stage to sing and dance about what is probably one of the most traumatic experiences her life, in front of the person who assualted her, is really the healthiest or safest way to do that.

- Also, am I the only one that thinks Kris petitioning to get the bust removed from the main hall and that actually happening sounds weird? Maybe it’s just because I went to community college so I don’t know how larger, more established colleges work but that sounds like she was probably petitioning to get the name of the school changed and they just did the bust thing as a ‘compromise’.

- What did they steal for Kris for the pledges to know that she had to be killed too?

- Nate, dude, I know you have a migraine or whatever but just leave the room or something.

- I feel like a lot of real world discussions about feminism and equal rights end up like the one that happened in the kitchen so I think maybe this needs to be said: We do need men in the world, however what we don’t need is bigots and abusers. Misogyny negatively effects all of us, you can talk about the issues men face without having to put down women.

- I find it really odd that this movie claims to be a more ‘feminist’ version of Black Christmas (I have no idea if the director or writer intended that, maybe it was just a studio or marketing team thing) but they cut out the women’s reproductive rights subplot? How do you even do that?

- I kind of wish this movie was a full on psychological thriller of Riley having to actually process her trauma instead of being a qausi-slasher movie.

- Referencing the point above, I feel like the ending is in this weird limbo where it’s not weird enough to clearly be an allegory but it’s also not normal enough to be like, believable.

- Was Riley’s smile fading at the end because one (or some of them) got out alive or because she realizes that she just destroyed half of the evidence that proves she and Kris didn’t kill all those people?

- Do I think this movie is misandrist propaganda? No. Do I think this movie is great and everyone should see it? also No. I think its a movie that tried to do something good but fumbled and wound up in a no woman’s land of cringe dialogue and ham fisted morals.

- also in case anyone was wondering, my favourite character was Jessie, she reminds me of one of my cousins.

#Thoughts On #thoughts on horror #Black Christmas #Black Christmas 2019 #Feminism I Guess

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victorluvsalice · 8 months

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-->However, by the time Victor got his Snapbucha and put it into the drinks fridge, everyone was pretty worn out and the hour was getting late. So I sent everyone back home to start recuperating. Victor headed inside and grabbed some choripán for dinner; Smiler started fixing busted wind turbines --

And I suddenly remembered, "Oh yeah, Alice has some books in her inventory she needs to publish! Let's get those out into the world!" So she dropped her latest two novels, "The Corruption of Wonderland" and "Vorpal Rhymes," into the mailbox. Hopefully the Sim community at large likes them!

-->With her books on the way to the publisher, a hungry Alice decided it was time to "find" some meat and transformed into her beast form for a hunt -- followed by Kelly, who desired a night on the town. XD Victor, having finished his dinner, headed to the greenhouse to tend his bees and grab some honey, and hit a plant with some Floralorial to spare himself having to weed it. XD He then headed off to bed while Smiler finished up their turbine repairs and raided the resultant junk piles for parts --

-->And then, I spotted some catchable fireflies near the side of the house! :D I've been waiting for these to spawn for AGES! I promptly had Smiler grab them, which put three of the little glowy buggers in their inventory. Nice -- finally, Smiler can start making Sadness Alleviation Lotions to add to their stores of herbalism potions in the store! Always good to have more product. :) With that sorted, Smiler proceeded to the robot workbench to make chatterbots, because need more product THERE too. Alice returned from her hunt and went to hang out with them for a while as she ate her steak...

-->But uh-oh, what's this on the front porch? Seems a visiting old lady (who I suspected of being a sneaky vampire) was being menaced by a particularly angry specter! Fortunately, Alice had a nice painting in her inventory that she could present to the angry blob. . .and even more fortunately, said angry blob liked it, departing from the premises and paying Alice back in another forbidden candy jar! I know you don't usually like sweets, Alice, but I think you'd better accept these ones. XD

-->With that, all that remained was for Alice to head upstairs, lick herself clean, change back to herself, and head to bed to join Victor while Smiler continued making bots and mechanisms (watched over by Shadow)...but the amazing bed meant that the pair were soon up again. Spotting that the phonograph in the living room was broken, I had Victor repair it (the traditional way -- I clicked on the option by accident, but then was like, "Well, he DOES like Handiness") while Alice emptied out the storage in the litter boxes, then both of them joined Smiler in the crafting barn -- Victor to experiment with potion brewing, Alice to use the bulk processor at home to make some sugar for future canning purposes. Keeping busy, as they always do!

And with that, this episode comes to an end! Next time -- it's the day before Harvestfest, and Victor has a magical trip to make...

#sims 4 #the lazy save #victor van dort #alice liddell #smiler always #yeah I almost forgot to publish those novels!#gotta make sure Alice keeps making the moolah from her books #and I found Kelly 'following' Alice out on the hunt to be very cute indeed :)#they're going hunting together!#and yes finally fireflies #they need so many things for their damn potions that they don't have #and fireflies were one of them #so cross THAT off the list for a change yay #and I don't know where that old lady or that red specter came from #but I'm kind of amused by the idea that the lady was a vampire getting ready to creep on Victor #only to discover the house is very very haunted #and also contains a werewolf XD #welp not gonna hit THIS place again for a midnight snack! XD #queued

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dprpnshmntlf · 6 months

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With these absurd rent prices these days, it’s understandable why I would move in with other people to split rent and expenses. What most people don’t understand however, is why I stay in a house where I am subject to discipline from all 6 (4 girls, 2 guys) of my roommates.

It was never formally established. There was no mutual agreement among roommates for punishments. It just happened one day. The rule of the house was, if you make a mess, clean it up. Well, I had been getting lazy and started procrastinating, putting off cleaning my messes for a day or two. After several confrontations and promises to do better, one of the girls, Samantha, finally just snapped.

There was an audible gasp from the room, as Sam grabbed me and pinned me down over her knee. She caught me off guard and before I could react, she already began beating my ass. Even with everyone watching, I shamefully did not even make it one minute before I started kicking and howling, but she didn’t let up for a second. After several minutes, she finally stood me up and told me that I will behave from now on. I just sniffled and nodded.

I think we all pretended that was just a weird one time thing, but we all knew something had changed. Next week, Beverly got busted for eating Penelope’s prepped work lunch. They argued about it for a few minutes, until Beverly decided that Penny was being petty and needed to shut up. Rather than continue the pointless argument, Bev just grabbed a wooden spoon, forced the smaller Penny up onto the table on her back with her legs up, and let her have it. Within minutes, Penny was bawling and apologizing for her behavior. After that, Penny agreed to prepare an extra lunch for Bev every day.

Then the next day, Todd and Benny were watching the game on the communal TV, when Penny told them that she wanted to catch up on her new favorite reality TV show. They were only given one warning and one chance to give up the remote or face the consequences. I guess the guys thought it was a good idea to call her bluff, but they quickly learned that, despite her size, she could be very intimidating. Enough to get them both bent over the couch with their pants down while getting their butts whacked with the remote. Any hope of preserving some kind of upper hand from watching Penny cry during her spanking, dissolved as she took out her frustrations on their bottoms, making them cry faster and even harder than she did.

After that, a hierarchy formed. At the top is Sam. Even though she is not as imposing as Bev or Mallory, nor as intimidating as Penny, she has a confidence that no one can challenge. She is in charge. No doubt. She spanks all and nobody gives it back. Whatever she says is law.

Next is Bev and Mallory. They spank each other on occasion and they spank everyone else frequently. They spank hard and ruthlessly. Only Sam keeps them in line.

Next is Penny. She is right in the middle. She is not allowed to spank any of the girls (she tried before, but it always resulted in her being the one getting spanked, even when the other girl was objectively the guilty party). But she is in charge of us boys and we are not able to spank her back. She kind of adopted the role of house mom. She checks to make sure we do our chores, she cooks dinner, she makes sure we maintain proper hygiene, picks out our clothes for the day, checks our undies for skidmarks, and makes sure we play nice amongst ourselves. Should we fail on any of these fronts, we get a taste of her belt. She also took over getting me ready for bed.

Todd and Benny don’t spank any of the girls, nor do they spank each other, but they do enjoy having their way with me. After Mallory pulled down my pants to administer a late night attitude adjustment, everyone discovered my secret: that I’m a bedwetter who wears diapers at night. That firmly established me at the bottom of the pecking order. I am not allowed to spank anyone else and everyone else can spank me. I sometimes get multiple spankings in the same day. Todd and Benny like to spank me just for being a baby. They take turns holding me down and spanking my butt, but to be honest it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as when the girls take charge.

That being said, in order to keep us guys from getting any bold ideas, we are constantly reminded of our place by the lacy panties the girls keep us in. The girls picked them out for us. Sometimes, if Penny decides my behavior is especially childish as of late, she will change me out of my wet bedtime diaper and into a new diaper for the whole day to remind me of how childish I am. That being said, if I’m not diapered, I’m in panties and the other two are always in panties.

It’s not uncommon to see all 3 of the boys with our pants down, tight thong wedgies up our butts, and our bottoms getting spanked bent over the couch. Or to hear Sam going to each of the other girls’ rooms to deliver individual spankings. And once per month, Sam lines up all 6 of us, pants down, grabbing our ankles, to each receive several rounds of the paddle.

My roommates are not shy about how they treat me. If I misbehave, even if I have friends over, I get scolded like a child and spanked. Bare bottom/panties (or diaper) exposed for all to see. Penny will come find me around 7 to say, in front of my friends, “Come on, Tater Tot! It’s diaper time! Once we get you changed, you can go right back to playing, okay?”

When they see how I live, my friends often ask why I stay. There’s a few reasons. For one, sharing the financial burdens makes it a lot easier to save money. I really cannot afford to move out. Secondly, I am starting to appreciate the added discipline. I am noticing improvements in my daily life. Additionally, to be embarrassingly honest, I used to wet my bed a lot. I’d get lazy and “forget” to wear a diaper. But ever since Penny took over, not only do I get to stop worrying about if I remember or not, but I have someone that actually changes me into my diaper for the night. I just get to lie back and let her take care of me. It’s kind of relaxing and actually makes my life a surprising amount easier. And finally, despite all the spankings and discipline that goes on, these people are actually my friends. It’s not all punishments. We have game nights and watch movies together. We go out to eat and go to the beach. We’re a fun group of normal adults who all happen to wear panties and most happen to get spankings. And one of us needs diapers, which the rest are totally cool with, despite the occasional light teasing. I am actually very grateful for my situation.

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consoledacup · 9 months

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It's evident to me that Spencer and Olivia love each other very much and are meant to be together. However, I've noticed that Olivia tends to be overly forgiving of Spencer and tends to shift blame onto others rather than him. Particularly in season 5, it seemed like her entire identity revolved around getting back with Spencer. During Jordan's grieving episode, she seemed more focused on Spencer and blaming Coop and Jordan for giving up on him without fully considering Jordan's grief. She also accused Alicia of abandoning Spencer without knowing the details. However, did not have the same energy towards Spencer when in reality, he was the one who initiated the breakup and pursued and dated Alicia even after Liv told him that she wanted to get back together. While their airport moment was touching, there's room for improved communication and effort from Spencer. Hopefully, in season 6, we'll see a more balanced dynamic between Olivia's romantic relationship with Spencer, her personal life and her relationships with friends and family. What are your thoughts on this?

Yeah, I agree with most of this. It sucked to see her time with Jordan always focus on Spencer in those grief episodes. Jordan was there for her in a significant way, and maybe it happened off screen, but we didn't get the same energy from her. And nothing made me angrier than seeing her berate Jordan and Coop in 515 for "giving up" on Spencer. That's... not what happened? And that's not even what they were insinuating.

I don't think Olivia's entire identity was wrapped up with Spencer in s5 because we got a lot of scenes of her pursuing her career which led to many great moments with her and her dad. She exposed a really dark thing happening with the football team, and that should be celebrated.

I'm really glad she was super compassionate and understood Spencer's grief even when he didn't. I do wish they didn't have her carry all of that while she was in the midst of her own loss. And to Spencer's credit, that's the last thing he wanted from any of the Bakers. The show had the Bakers worried about Spencer and checking on him and showing empathy, but that's not what he wanted. He did not want to put that on any of them.

And according to Olivia's POV, she had no idea that Spencer's connection with Alicia was so flimsy. She figured Spencer really cared about her because he didn't do anything after her confession in 510. So her love for him overshadowed her need to be happy with him. She thought Alicia was someone who was a rock for Spencer, despite her fear that that idea might actually be true.

Spencer ended things with her because he knew how much power she had over his heart. He couldn't handle the pain of her leaving him, so he left first. Well, guess what? He got pummeled anyway. I'm hoping that after more sessions with Dr. Spears, he begins to really trust in her and in them.

Absolutely there's room for improved communication. I want to see what Olivia comes back with from her time in London. I want to see a real partnership between the two of them with those lines of communication busted open. I want to see that gorgeous dynamic from the earlier seasons where they kept nothing from each other and were super honest. And while I'd love to see more interaction with Olivia and other characters, I really just want to see her happy and pursuing all aspects of her life to the fullest.

#spelivia #olivia baker #spencer james #all american #jordan baker

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inktonki · 2 years

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Sphero edu app

Sphero edu app drivers#

Sphero edu app code#

Sphero edu app series#

More Than An App, It’s A Learning Community It also means that while it’s great for younger kids or those new to code, the more advanced options will appeal to those wanting to build their skills. The lessons build on each other, which makes the whole process very approachable and fun. In the first hour, she had her SPRK+ (AKA Sparky) changing colors, twirling in circles and even dodging obstacles in its path.

Sphero edu app series#

Using the app (which I downloaded on my phone), my daughter familiarized herself with what the SPRK+ could do by walking through a series of introductory lessons.

Sphero edu app drivers#

The Sphero Edu app puts kids in the drivers seat giving them three different ways to program the robot drawing, drag and drop building blocks and actual java script text programming. So kids are able to immediately connect how everything they are learning applies to their actual lives. It’s fun and engaging, because it creates a dynamic environment that incorporates robotics and technology in activities that blend coding with real world concepts and subject areas. This isn’t just another techno gadget, but an actual educational program that is changing the way kids of all ages learn. That is where the Sphero Edu program came in. We found some coding apps and a few other tools, but they were fairly simple and she got bored quickly. What she really needed was something that could grow with her and provide more challenges along the way.

Sphero edu app code#

Unfortunately, beyond the hour of code program, her school offered very little that would allow her to explore her new interest in a deeper way. I really wanted to be able to channel her enthusiasm in a positive direction for her. I could tell she felt empowered and smart. When my daughter took part in the hour of code at school, she came home and was so excited to tell me all about it. This is exactly what happened to my daughter and it’s how we discovered the Sphero Edu app community and our little SPRK+ robot. Or they offer introductory classes or workshops, but once a child’s interest has been sparked, there is no where for them to go with it. Part of the problem is that many schools haven’t caught up with the times and aren’t teaching it. But for some reason, we’re still having a hard time getting young people to really take an interest in this area beyond the basics. The computer science field is exploding and the opportunities for our kids will be so exciting. However, we many not realize how essential computer related skills are going to be for our children. What is even more amazing is the way it opens up whole new world of learning for our children.īut it goes beyond just learning. Technology is the future for our kids.Īs parents, We hear all about STEAM education and coding. STEAM Education – The Key To Our Kids Futures She was truly busting with pride at what she had been able to do and, even better she couldn’t wait to learn more. I was stunned by how quickly she had figured out to use our new SPRK+ Robot from Sphero Edu. A programming command, one she had written and executed herself in a matter of minutes. My daughter giggles and smiles at me with a look of triumph on her face.Ī moment later, back comes the whizzing ball and it stops right in front of her as if on command. “Mom, come quick you need to see what I just did!”Īs I walk into the next room, a small spinning orb about the size of a baseball with lights goes whizzing past me. Here’s a revolutionary educational tool to help them build important skills while having fun! Inside:STEAM education is essential for our children’s future success.

#Sphero edu app

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

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Inspiration (Nathan Young x Reader)

A/N: I’ve been thinking more about my headcanon that Nathan has some sort of secret artistic talent. And then I had a flash of inspiration. Word Count: 1902 Content Warnings: drinking/alcohol, criminal activity, mention of animal abuse Cross-posted to AO3: here

“Hey,” Nathan said, waving his hand in front of your face, making you jump. “Earth to Y/N!”

“Sorry, what?” you said, slightly embarrassed that you had been zoning out.

“Am I borin’ ye?” he asked, pretending to pout.

“No of course not,” you were quick to assure him, before pausing a moment. “Well…”

He gasped.

“No! You’re not boring me. It’s just…we are just sitting around drinking stolen, bad, vodka,” you took a swig of the bottle in question and grimaced at its rubbing alcohol aftertaste.

“We could do somethin’ else,” he said, smirking and waggling his eyebrows before plucking the vodka out of your hands and chugging some.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, leaning over to punch him lightly in the shoulder.

“I was thinking more like...how do you feel about petty crime and vandalism?”

He gave you a curious look. “I’d say I’m a fan.”

“Good,” you said, taking out your phone to send a quick text to your friend to see if they could drop you some supplies. “Because I noticed a lovely barren expanse of walls on my walk over here that are just begging to be graffitied.”

“I’ve never done it,” he said with a shrug, “but I’m game.”

“Well,” you said, digging through the shopping bag you had found in the open boot of an abandoned car, right where you were expecting it, “El really came through with the supplies and the world is our canvas.”

You threw your hands in a broad gesture, before planting your fist on your hip. “And by that, I mean these two walls are our canvas.”

Nathan laughed, shaking his head wryly at you. “Lovely. So, what d’ we do?”

“Oh.” Your face fell slightly. You didn’t really know how to explain it to him. You had been painting street art for so long that it just came naturally to you. “Um...I guess you just, pick a can of paint and go for it. Paint whatever you’re feeling or thinking about. Or just your initials or something in a cool way. Whatever you want.”

“Hmm. Maybe I should watch ya for a bit, get some inspiration,” he drawled, giving you a cocky half-smile.

“I...uh...sure, if you want.” You shifted awkwardly, trying to ignore his gaze that felt like it was burning into the back of your neck as you riffled through the options to find the color you wanted. Stepping back, you looked critically at the wall, calculating it’s dimensions and what to start with. Satisfied that you had everything mapped out in your head, you set to work on the outline.

Nathan watched you work, your whole body moving fluidly in a way that sent his thoughts racing (not there was much you could do that didn’t), your brow knitted in fierce concentration. Once you had a vague outline of whatever you were designing, which he couldn’t even begin to guess, you shifted your focus to each individual section and detail. Occasionally, you would take a step back to see how the whole thing was coming together, tilting your head one way or the other, tongue poking out between your teeth slightly. He had never seen you so free and relaxed.

Suddenly, inspiration struck him and he practically dove into the shopping bag, rooting about for what he’d need. Taking a couple of the cans, he ducked around the corner to get started, a strange creative fire lighting in him.

“Finally come up with something?” you called softly, teasing.

“Yeah, yeah I did,” he said, almost absently. “But it’s a surprise, so no peekin’.”

“Ooh, mysterious.”

“Ye gotta promise ye won’t look til I say, Y/N,” he insisted.

“Alright,” you frowned, surprised he was getting so tetchy. “Cross my heart, I won’t peek. I’m pretty busy over here anyway.”

About an hour later, you put the final touch on your piece, your artist’s mark at the bottom so that anyone who knew anything would know who painted it. Stepping back, you smiled, wiping the slight sheen of sweat from your brow, formed by your exertion despite the cool night.

“You almost done, Nathan?” you called, surprised that he had been practically silent since he started working.

“Oh, yeah,” he called back distractedly. “Nearly. But I’ll come over there.”

“Sure,” you answered, puzzled by his odd behavior.

While you waited, you started gathering up the spray paints, putting any cans that still had paint in them back in the bag and tossing the empties in a nearby bin.

“Wow,” you heard Nathan say, making you jump as he appeared behind your back.

He was looking up at your art piece in awe. You had painted one of your signature designs: a laughing skull with flowers spilling from its open mouth. This time, the flowers were marigolds and foxgloves, and you had added a twist in the form of literal emerald eyes. You were quite proud of it, and Nathan seemed impressed.

“You like it?” you asked sheepishly, the heat of a blush creeping across your face.

“I love it,” he exclaimed, pulling out his phone to snap a grainy picture of it. “Make a cool shirt or somethin’. Or a pirate tattoo. Very punk.”

You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. “It’s been an...evolving design since I was like 14. Leave me alone.”

“I’m not messin with ya, Y/N. I really like it.”

“Well, thank you.” You smiled and he grinned back, and for a moment you were lost in that. And then you remembered his very secret work.

“So Hotshot, do I get to see yours now?” you asked.

He jumped, startled and then shrugged, mumbling. “‘F you want ta.”

“Of course I do,” you said, taking a step toward the corner.

“No wait! If it’s a surprise, I should cover your eyes and lead you to it.”

Knowing him, you were suspicious that he had some prank or ulterior motive in mind, but you nodded your ascent. He moved up behind you, pressing his chest against your back and curling his long fingers over your eyes.

“Can ya see anything?” he asked.

“Nope. Totally blind.”

Slowly he walked you across the gravel ground. Once you stopped, he started shifting you around by little steps in one direction or another, as if trying to get you into exactly the right spot.

“Alright,” he said, a nervous tick to his voice. “Ta-dah!”

He dramatically uncovered your eyes to show what he'd been working on.

“Oh,” you breathed, stunned.

Staring back at you from the wall were a pair of eyes caught in mid-wink. Your eyes. Captured in exquisite detail, right down to the scar in your brow, earned as a child trying to stop a group of older boys from dropping a paper sack full of kittens into the drainage ditch during a downpour.

“Nathan.” You felt your heart swell at the level of dedication, the obvious emotion he’d put into this, and tried to keep your voice from breaking.

He scuffed the toe of his dirty sneakers in the gravel, looking down and away sheepishly.

“I know. It ain't very good and it's jus' yer eyes instead o’ yer whole face but I thought this way you wouldn't get busted. And ye said t' paint what I was thinkin of…”

You turned to face him, reluctantly pulling your eyes away from the work of art before you. Tucking a hand gently under his chin, you drew his gaze back to you.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, making sure he could see the sincerity in your expression.

He blushed, barely noticeable under the dim lights. “Ya think?”

You nodded, snaking your arm around his neck and stepping closer. His hand dropped to your waist as if on instinct.

“And very sweet. Some might say romantic even.”

“Hey, don’t go spreading those lies! I have a reputation to maintain ya know,” he joked, obviously trying to hide his discomfort at your praise.

“Nah, I like keeping that secret all to myself better anyway,” you teased, smirking before stretching up on your toes to press a teasing kiss to his lips.

He groaned, pulling you closer and kissing you back, tongue trailing over your lip almost immediately. You parted to let him explore your mouth, toying with an errant curl at the nape of his neck. Slowly he guided you backward, only to suddenly jerk you to the side, accidentally biting your lip in the process.

“Ow,” you whined, pulling back and bringing a finger to your lip to see if you were bleeding. “What was that?”

“Didn’t want to mess up the art,” he explained. “Or my jacket.”

“What do you mean?” you frowned.

He looked at you incredulously. You glanced down, realizing that in your haste to get ready, you had indeed pulled on his signature plaid-lined black garment.

“Oh,” you said softly before turning your face back up toward his with a smirk and a shrug to rival his most unapologetic expressions. “Oops.”

“Ye’re lucky ye’re so damn cute, or I might be mad at ya,” he teased.

“I’m sure I can think of some way to make it up to you,” you hummed, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned at you, and you stretched up to kiss him again, but just as your lips met, a strong, chill wind cut whistling through, causing you both to shiver.

“Maybe we should take this back to my place?” he asked, breath ghosting across your face.

“I like the sound of that,” you smiled back.

Quickly, slid the bag of remaining paint cans under the nearby dumpster for your friend to pick up later. All traces of your presence in the area (except of course the now much more beautiful wall) removed, you turned back to Nathan, ready to head out. He draped an arm around your shoulders and you happily leaned in to the gesture, tucking yourself against his side. As you walked back toward the community center, your head resting on his shoulder, you thought of something.

“Nathan,” you asked, slightly hesitant, fearful that he might put up walls against you again. “I thought you said you’d never done this before?”

“I haven’t,” he answered casually.

“Then how were you so good at it? The level of detail and real, genuine artistry…”

He shrugged, taking his arm from around you to fumble in his pockets for a cigarette and a lighter, the latter of which he couldn’t seem to find. You reached into the pocket of your jeans, holding out yours and letting him light the end of the cig with it. The distraction passed, you looked back at him as he looked pointedly away and took a long drag.

“I dunno. I mean it’s not that different from doodlin’ on paper with a pen or whatever, right?” he said finally with another shrug.

“That was more than ‘doodling’, Nathan,” you said, plucking the cigarette from his lips and placing it between your own.

He pouted at you as you took a drag and offered it back. His lips brushed against your fingers as he took it back, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Guess I’m just a man of mystery,” he said vaguely, draping his arm back around your shoulder.

“I guess so,” you murmured, not voicing how much you look forward to finding them all out.

#I think street art is really cool and I envy the artists' talent #so I made the reader one #because I can live vicariously #it is not however what she was busted for that got her put on community service #also let's assume that this is far enough from the center that they won't be assigned to clean it up in the morning #Nathan Young x Reader #Misfits fic

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deceitfuldevil · 3 years

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Snap Out of It!

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: You grew up with the Maximoff twins, even agreed to be experimented on at HYDRA with them. You and Pietro were clearly falling for each other the older you got, but HYDRA sent you away and told the Maximoff’s you were dead. So what happens when you show up at the Avengers compound with no memory of your past?

Warnings: a little bit of angst I think?? Mentions of bombs, HYDRA experiments, some fluff and kissing ;)

Word Count: 3.69K

You were born during the start of a terrible war in your home country, and about two months later your parents introduced you to a new set of twins who lived just a few doors down from you. Of course you don’t actually remember meeting them, but your earliest memories were all filled with the Maximoff twins. You practically grew up right alongside them, you three did everything together. Birthdays, playdates, dinner when your parents weren’t home, all of it. It was also nice to grow up alongside others who were your age, especially when your country was at such a low place; it was a good distraction.

You were 10 years old when your apartment complex was bombed, your father had just walked in the door coming home from work. He and your mom fell into the hole in the floor immediately, that was the last time you ever saw them. You sat curled up in a ball in the far left corner of what used to be your kitchen. Frozen with fear and trauma for two days, until you were rescued. You were brought down to a large police van, the doors were opened for you and you saw two other children huddled together under a blanket, both of them immediately turned to see you and screamed with joy. It was your best friends, the Maximoffs. You ran into the van and hugged them immediately, all of you breaking down into tears. You sat in the back of the van together and chatted about the bombing. The main question on your mind was “are there any survivors?” but as it turned out, not only were you and the Maximoff twins the only children that survived. You three ended up being the three lone survivors of the entire apartment complex. Newspapers printed out articles on “the miracle trio” for weeks to come.

From that day on you three jumped from homeless shelter to homeless shelter, never once being allowed to stay in once place for too long. You even agreed to volunteer for HYDRA’s experiments with Wanda and Pietro when you were all 17. You tried to stay in communication with your friends but HYDRA made that near impossible with their constant experiments and isolations. The time you did get to spend with the Maximoffs was cherished, especially your time with Pietro. You two were definitely drawn to each other as you grew into your mid teens, but you never truly allowed anything serious to happen in fear of how Wanda might react.

About a year into your experiments at HYDRA, you gained healing like abilities along with some telepathy as well. After learning and controlling these powers you were excited for when you got to see Wanda and Pietro next to see what powers they had gained. But you never got the chance. HYDRA saw more use in you than petty armed fights, and shipped you off to god knows where and gave you the improved and experimental “super-soldier” serum. HYDRA informed Wanda and Pietro that the experiments became too much for you, that you were weak and had passed on. Pietro cried for days on end, and Wanda could hear him every night from her neighboring cell. Thinking you were dead killed his spirit, his soul. He never even got to tell you how he really felt. That you were so much more than just a fling to him. Meanwhile you trained for months on end and every week and were forced to have shock therapy to erase your past memories. HYDRA was making you into nothing more than a weapon, a shell of a person. After a few successful missions, that's all you were good for. So if you weren’t out on business, you were put under cryo-sleep. This went on for years.

It wasn't until 3 weeks after the battle of Sokovia when Sam had been questioning Wanda and Pietro about their time with HYDRA, he was able to locate another one of their secret human experiment facilities. Steve was hoping they’d make a break in that missing persons case of his but to no avail. However, they did find one abandoned soldier in cryo-freeze. You.

Now, of course it took months of isolation and small bits of normal human activity and interaction to erase what HYDRA had brainwashed you into. After about 4 1/2 months Tony decided it was time to move you into the new compound, but kept you restricted to your room. Others were allowed to visit you if they’d like, it was encouraged really. Get you the human interaction you needed.

Three days and no visits later, which you didn’t mind. It was nice being isolated somewhere with TV service.

Clint walked over to the kitchen island where Wanda and Pietro were having a conversation over a snack.

“Either of you meet the newest recruit yet? I hear she’s still in isolation.”

“There’s a... new recruit?” Pietro said, his accent thick as he spoke with a questioning tone.

“Yeah, Y/N something. Found her in cryo-freeze at that HYDRA base we raided a few months ago.”

Wanda froze, immediately looking to her brother who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Pietro... it can’t be her. You remember how she died in trials” Wanda tried to reason with her still love stricken brother after all these years.

“That’s what they told us, what if they lied? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She just shook her head “it’s impossible, do you even think she’d still remember you?” Wanda inquired.

“There’s only one way to find out!” Pietro said, speeding off leaving a trail of blue streaks behind him.

He busted through the lab doors and stood about 5 feet from Tony, breathless. “What’s her name? Her full name.”

“Okay speedy, next time knock, yeah? And half of our team here is “her’s” so I haven’t the slightest clue who you’re talking about.” Tony spoke calmly, but frustrated that Pietro bursted in out of nowhere.

“The new recruit, Y/N.”

Tony looked over to the quick man and quirked a brow at him

“Well you’ve already got half her name down. She’s Y/N L/N, an ex HYDRA super soldier. You should go visit her actually, she just moved into the compound a few days ago. No ones even visited her y—“

“Where is she staying? what room is she in?” He asked, cutting Tony off.

“Floor 2, room 315... you know it’s impolite to cut off your—“ but before Tony could finish, Pietro had sped off again.

You sat into your room watching an old sitcom from the 2000s you felt drawn to. But before you could invest yourself any further there was a knock at your door. Something you weren’t used to. You hesitantly spoke, “come in” you said sitting up in your bed, fixing your hair a little in the process.

A silver haired man slowly walked in, he had broad shoulders and a toned body. He was attractive, no doubt. But he almost looked familiar to you. Why?

“Hello dragâ” he spoke with a Eastern Europe accent, but one not one you could exactly pinpoint. But you recognized the foreign word he spoke

“Hello... domnule. How do you know Russian... and why have you come to visit?” You questioned, swinging your legs over the side of your bed. The man at your door, he looked sad now. His face fell, but you didn’t understand why.

“You don’t remember me?” He walked closer to you, as you stood up from your bed.

“Well I don’t remember much after HYDRA brainwashed the hell out of me” you said with a slight chuckle, but he still looked disappointed.

“But maybe if you tell me your name and why I should remember you” you said with a smirk, stepping closer to the handsome man that stood in front of you.

“Can I show you instead?” He said, stepping so close that now your chests were touching. You enjoyed the human interaction but with your past training, this still left you on edge.

“Show me?” You questioned, but he took this rather as the go-ahead and snaked a hand around your waist and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You wanted to melt into his touch but it was all too soon, and you didn’t even know his name. You pulled away abruptly and slapped him. Backing away as you sat back down on your bed and stared at your hands.

“Please leave.” You said just as quietly as you said when you allowed him to come in. When you looked up, the mysterious man was gone; your door left a crack open.

No one visited you for five more days after that. It was early into the evening and you sat alone in your room reading a book. There was a knock at your door but you didn’t answer it. The last time you agreed to let someone in they violated your boundaries. But regardless your door was still opened, but a new person you had yet to meet walked through.

She stood a bit taller than you and had long red hair, a kind smile and warm eyes.

“I hope I am not intruding.” She said, with the same accent as the man who invaded on your days before. Which again, put you on edge.

“Who are you?” You said, keeping your eyes on your book— desperately avoiding eye contact.

“Wanda Maximoff, but you can just call me Wanda.” She said sweetly

“Oh how sweet of you” you said dryly, still bitter over your last encounter with someone in the avengers compound.

“All you remember is pain” she said in an as-a-matter-of-fact kind of way. “But that’s not all you know, you just need to remember.” You now dared to look up at her. She was still at the door, keeping her distance from you.

“And how am I supposed to remember what you think I know?” You asked, and she took a step closer to your bed.

“I don’t think, I see. I can see inside your head, they did unspeakable things to you. Made you carry out violent missions that still haunt your dreams. You’ve forgotten what you know, your life before them...” Wanda paused, your eyes welled up gently with tears but you refused to let them fall. But she noticed.

“I think I can help you, if you’d let me” she took another step towards you, waiting for your reaction. But you stayed silent, fighting with yourself internally.

“We used to be friends, you know. You, my brother and I. He came to visit you a few days ago, and he knows what he did was wrong. He just missed you terribly. We have similar pasts. I want to help you, but if you don’t want my help. That is okay too. Regardless of what you choose, I still want to be your friend.”

You took a deep breath and stood up out of your bed. “How will you do it?” You asked, wanting nothing more than to feel normal again.

“A little bit of my magic, a little bit of love, and a lot of stories.” She smiled sweetly, taking your hand in hers. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You nodded quickly as Wanda left your room. You sat back down on your bed and racked your head wondering what you were about to learn about yourself. Wanda came back in with a fairly large box labeled “amintiri” which you knew meant “memories” in Romanian.

“Is everyone here Russian like me?” You questioned, giving Wanda a laugh “no, just my brother and I. Coincidentally, the only two who have visited you since you moved here.” You frowned slightly at her comment

“Why has no one else come to visit me?”

Wanda sighed “no one else knows you like my brother and I do. All they know is what you have done in your past, and that scares them.” She took the lid off the box she brought in and picked up a stack of photos that were tied together with a rubber band.

“But lucky for you, Pietro and I know more.” She said with a smile

“Pietro?” You said, quirking your head to the side a bit.

“He is my twin brother, the one who visited you last week. You two have... a history of sorts together. But we’ll get into that later.”

So with that, for some reason, you felt that everything was going to be okay.

And okay it was. Wanda showed you hundreds of pictures everyday and told the story behind every picture she pulled. Although you didn’t remember any of the memories she retold, it was still nice to hear what your life was like before HYDRA.

A week and a half later, she used her powers on you. At the time you remembered nothing, but later that night when she was showing you more pictures you pulled one picture out of the box. It was three little kids, all surrounding a brown chest that seemed to be filled with various sitcoms on VHS tape.

“This was on your 9th birthday, your father had bought a chest full of old American sitcoms. Not only did you love comedy but our family saw it as a great way to practice your English. Your favorite was The Dick Van Dyke Show.” You immediately recalled with great memory as you picked up the picture. Wanda jumped with joy and hugged you.

“You remembered!!” You nodded happily and hugged her back. “I remembered...” you said back quietly, almost in shock of yourself.

From then on memories came back to you not only easier but also a lot quicker. Soon enough, you remembered everything HYDRA had tried to erase out of your head. Even your feelings for Pietro. But you kept those memories to yourself, afraid that he would hate you after your first encounter with him when you came to the compound.

The last step Wanda had for you in what she called “Becoming You Again Project” was to have dinner with the rest of the compound, and finally be properly introduced to them.

So a dinner you all had. It was casual, but still felt formal as everyone greeted you so politely. Of course Wanda kept them all updated on your status. Even though they hadn’t met you yet, with her seal of approval they all trusted you now.

The last person to greet you was a face you could never forget now. Pietro Maximoff.

“Y/n... I know you’ve met a thousand times before, but I’d like you to meet my brother, Pietro.” Wanda said, elbowing her brother to stop staring at you and shake your hand. You felt weak at the knees under his gaze, was this how he’s always made you feel?

Pietro bowed down before you like you were some kind of princess and kissed your hand sweetly.

“Hello again, dragoste mia“ you felt hot under his touch and knew you were turning a beet red. You nodded quickly and smiled at him. He looked up and winked at you, walking to his seat. Which almost dreadfully, was directly across from yours.

After that you all sat down for dinner, Pepper had made a nice pasta dish for everyone. You ate quietly as everyone went around and told you stories of all kinds. Of past missions together, of personal life stories, and so much more. Truly it was a very enjoyable time. You loved getting to know everyone more than the files you were left in your room to “get to know the avenger” as Tony called it.

The night was almost perfect, if you hadn’t felt the gaze of a very familiar Sokovian man on you all night. He never even spoke, not that he had many stories to tell that you weren’t there for. The more stories that were told, the more you tuned them out and fell victim to his gaze.

But when the room fell quiet and you realized everyone's eyes were on you, you snapped out of whatever trance Pietro held you captive in and laughed nervously.

“I’m sorry, what did I miss? My mind was... somewhere else.” A few others laughed awkwardly, it was no doubt that everyone else noticed the constant looks you and Pietro were sharing. Tony stood up abruptly taking it upon himself to avoid the awkward silence.

“It was nothing important, Y/n. Anyways I believe this dinner was long overdue and very welcomed. We will be seeing you at training tomorrow?” Tony asked, starting to clear up his place.

“She can start on Monday, Tony. Let the kid have the weekend before she officially becomes an avenger, yeah?” Steve said, also standing up. Tony looked back at you and said “Captain's orders kid, see you Monday.” He said walking off, plate in hand. The others followed suit as you said your thank you’s for the warm welcome and goodnights to everyone.

Even if you didn’t make the dinner, you insisted on cleaning up. It was a nice way for you to feel helpful and to debrief after the dinner. Wanda left you alone and you cleaned the dishes happily while F.R.I.D.A.Y played some tunes for you.

“Mind if I lend you a hand, printsessa?” You heard a thick accent call out. You turned around to see none other than Pietro standing at the kitchen island with a smirk on his face.

“You’re not afraid of me?” You asked in a playful tone, although you weren’t entirely joking.

“Hardly, you could choke the life out of me and I’d say thank you.” He said, cheekiness radiating in his voice. You only laughed at his comment shaking your head.

“But just so you know, I used to do the choking in this relationship.” He said, daring to step closer to you. Your legs felt like jelly but you challenged him.

“Oh did you now? It’s a shame I don’t remember that.” You said teasingly

“But you remember other things? You remember me? Us? What we were?” His tone remained challenging, but his words were serious. You flirty front dropped at this, a small fear that he didn’t feel the same now coming back to eat you alive. You didn’t answer, rather turning back around to finish off the last of the dishes.

“You do remember me, and the times we shared together... no?” He said, carefully coming beside you.

“How could I forget? Of all the memories I was able to recall, those were the best” you said half-heartedly... not meaning to sound so bitter.

“But surely you’ve moved on...” you said quietly, staring at the dish you scrubbed aggressively in your hand.

“Oh dragâ mea” he said, taking a risk and placing one of his hands at the side of your face, gently forcing you to look at him.

“I never believed them when they told us you had failed your trials and passed on. I knew you were stronger than that, and the memories of what we had, kept me strong enough to escape from those bastards. I always had hope that you were still out there.”

You smiled brightly and tears brimmed your eyes, only this time you weren’t afraid to let them fall.

“I never stopped loving you, Y/n. Even when I thought you were dead.” And there went your tears, falling down your face as you turned to fully face Pietro as you wrapped your soapy hands around his neck.

“I love you too Pietro, the memories I have with you are the best ones I’ve remembered since I came back.”

He laughed lightly and brought his forehead to yours “so glad to hear you finally snapped out it, my love.”

“How could I have been so blind? I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you when you first visited me.” You admitted shyly

“It’s okay, I waited so patiently for years. A few more weeks wasn’t going to kill me” you laughed as your noses touched. His breath was fanning over your face and you didn’t dare break your eyes away from his.

“If you can promise not to slap me... we could always try that kiss again?” He said slyly, but you only sighed happily.

“I promise.” And that was all he needed. Pietro closed the small space between the two of you and pressed his soft lips to yours. The moment was nothing but pure bliss as you inhaled his sweet scent.

You pulled away somewhat reluctantly and smiled up at the man in front of you.

“Does that mean we’re together again?” He asked kindly

“Oh yeah, and good luck getting rid of me this time speedy.” You joked, tangling your fingers in the ends of his hair at the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, dragosté” he said, leaning down and bringing you in for a much more passionate kiss.

—

A/N

Ahhh hi everyone!! I truly haven't gotten this many imagines out in years and it feels so good. I turned on “The Greatest Showman” and five minutes later was struck with inspiration and somehow came up with this, which is actually kind of based off the song “Snap Out of It” by the Arctic Monkeys. I’ve been so obsessed with Pietro Maximoff/Arron Taylor Johnson lately, honestly it's ridiculous. Anyways I really hope you all enjoyed this imagine and remember, feedback is always welcomed and requests are encouraged!

Much Love,

—Skyler

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fanmoose12 · 3 years

Text

catch me if you can

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Erwin Smith, Kenny Ackerman

Genres: Mystery / Romance

Summary: The Ackerman duo. Just the mention of this name filled Hange with so many feelings. Mostly, when she reread the files of their cases over and over, until her eyes watered, she felt pricking annoyance. Sometimes, when she stared at the dead bodies of those scarce unfortunates who stumbled upon their crimes, she was filled with hatred and a pushing need for revenge. Hange couldn’t deny, however, there were times when she marveled at the impudence of their crimes. And, when she was investigating the Ackerman’s cases and saw just how meticulously planned they all were, she couldn’t help but feel something close to fascination.No one knew who they were. No one had seen their faces, no one knew their true names. Almost everyone knew of their crimes.Hange was determined to unravel every last one of their secrets. She will put an end to their crimes and then she will get the elusive Ackermans behind bars.

Chapter 6/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The sirens were still screeching, the bright lights of police cars still moving from one neighborhood to the other and Levi’s heart still drumming in his chest when Kenny had grabbed him, pushing him into the dark, empty alleyway.

“What the fuck was that?” he hissed, as he pressed Levi against the rough surface of a brick wall. Even with his mask still on, Kenny’s rage was perfectly visible, his eyes a burning fire.

If he wasn’t so out of it, if he could have shaken off the image of Hange, covered in blood, if he could have heard something rather than her pained scream, the hatred that was radiating from Kenny would have probably scared him.

But now it had a diametrically opposite effect.

“I should be the one asking you that,” Levi roughly threw Kenny’s hands off him. He was shaking, the adrenaline, frustration and fear he had experienced just half an hour ago making an utter mess out of him. He wanted, needed to get it all out of his system. And Kenny’s outrage could be the perfect remedy. “What the fuck were you thinking when you had pointed that gun? Did you want to kill a cop? Do you know what they would have done to us if you got one of their own?”

Kenny’s demeanor changed in a flash – his shoulders relaxed, his breathing slowed down. Patting Levi’s shoulder, he took a step back. With a low hum, Kenny threw away his mask, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

Lightening one up, he looked at Levi, revealing to him a narrow, foxy smirk. "You're so calm, Levi, so rational. Always know better than your uncle. But when I had that pointed that gun," he pressed a point finger to Levi's forehead, his palm imitating the pistol. "Were you just as rational? Because I swear – your eyes showed the exact opposite."

Levi held Kenny’s gaze steadily, refusing to be intimidated. "I was trying to get our asses out of here."

"Could have fooled me," Kenny chuckled, taking a drag of his cigarette and then blowing the smoke right in Levi's face. "I thought you were distracted by the pretty face of that cop," he looked Levi up and down, his smirk growing wider. His eyes filling with something darker.

"Need I to remind you," Levi waved his hand, getting rid of the smoke. "That we're in this mess only because you were distracted by a pretty face. Or you think that cops busting us was a coincidence?"

"No," Kenny lifted his head, releasing another ring of smoke into the air. The momentary silence was interrupted by return of the sirens. The police was getting closer. And that meant they had to run faster. "Traute will get what she deserves, don't you worry. And I hope, Levi," Kenny put his cigarette out, pressing it against the wall. He gave Levi a heavy, loaded look. "That you won't give me a reason to do the same to you."

***

Levi was a bad person. He held no other illusions regarding that matter.

Thief and liar, he wasn't blind or naive enough to pretend he was anything more.

If he was a good person, he'd surrender to police, confess his and Kenny's crimes and serve his time in prison.

If he was a mediocre person, he'd get on a first plane to somewhere far away and never show his face in this city again.

If he, at least, wasn't a complete piece of shit, he'd leave Hange alone and stop lying to her.

Alas..

Lying to her became surprisingly easy. And a sort of necessity too.

This is the last time, he told himself. The last time. I just need to make sure that Hange is alright.

Alas… Lying to himself was becoming surprisingly easy too.

***

Contacting Hange was even less difficult than he had expected to.

Her face was all over the news, the brave detective injured during a mission – there was no shortage of praise to her dedication and courage.

Something warmed in his chest at hearing these praises.

The feeling was almost enough to make him panic. It was one thing when his heart sped up in Hange’s presence. But now he was proud of her achievements as well? A sure sign that he was getting in too deep.

A sure sign that he had to leave.

The last time, he repeated, as he sent a text to Hange.

saw your sad face on tv. are you alright?

Turned out, it was everything he had to do to receive a photo of Hange, grinning at him from a hospital bed, along with an invitation to visit her.

Levi didn’t allow doubts to take hold of him. Before a logical part of him raised its voice and started screaming at him, he grabbed his jacket and left the house. Thankfully, Kenny was out, probably looking for ways to get his revenge.

Levi didn’t care enough to ask him where he was going. After their last fight, they didn’t talk at all. And Levi was more than okay with it. The lesser they interacted, the lesser chances were of them getting into another fight and possibly reaping each other’s heads off.

If Kenny was busy with getting even with Traute, Levi could take a moment to say a proper goodbye to Hange.

Then, he’d leave the city. For good this time.

***

The hospital – when Levi had entered it – was bustling with police officers.

At first, he almost bolted back home. There were too many of them, and the surge of panic he felt was almost too much.

What if Hange knew the truth about him? Her plan with Traute had failed, but what if she had tried to lure him out here? What if she set another – unescapable – trap for him?

But the police officers didn’t look intimidating. Almost all of them seemed tense – exhausted and worried. But no one had spared him another glance.

And when he told that he was Levi and he came to see Hange, some of them actually smiled.

The blonde woman, the one Levi vaguely remembered seeing in the precinct before, even squeezed his shoulder, as he passed her by. She thanked him for being there for Hange and told him he was a real sweetheart.

Levi didn’t think it was possible to feel embarrassed, ashamed and guilty at the same time.

These feeling grew as he met the tall sniffing giant from before. Was his name Mike? Levi was pretty sure it was. At least, he definitely remembered Hange mentioning some Mike. Most probably it was the exact Mike that was standing before him now. He beamed as he saw Levi approach, beckoning him to come closer.

“Man, it’s so good to have you here,” he said, and the sincerity in his tone almost made Levi wince. He was such an asshole… “Hange had been crawling up the walls ever since she was brought here,” the man appeared to be tired, visibly drained, but beneath the face of exhaustion, it was easy to see the genuine concern. Seemed, like Hange was extremely well-loved amongst her colleagues. “Our sweet Han is terrifying in her anger, but maybe…” he tilted his head, scanning Levi from head to toe. “Maybe, you’ll cheer her up.”

“That’s…” Levi cleared his throat, struggling not to fidget under Mike’s hopeful gaze. God, perhaps it’d be better if they just caught him there. It certainly wouldn’t make him feel so awful about himself. “That’s what I’m here for. Can I come in?”

“Sure!” Mike gave him thumbs-up, smiling in relief. “Hange is just behind that door. I’m not sure if she’s alone, I left her side to get some coffee, but…”

Levi was already on a move, already opening the door to Hange’s ward, and, naturally, he ignored the end of that sentence.

Big mistake on his part.

Because Hange, who was half-sitting on the white hospital bed with a bandage on her right shoulder… Hange certainly wasn’t alone. There was a man beside her, and when he shifted in his seat to glance at Levi, Levi recognized him immediately.

Admittedly, he had never met him in person, all communication was performed by Kenny, but that cropped brown hair, those vibrant blue eyes and stupid, ugly moustache… it was very hard to mistake Rod Reiss for anyone else.

Levi froze, heart in his throat. What was Reiss doing here? Did he know who Levi was? Did he recognize him? The slight uplift of his mouth said that he did.

But, thankfully… Reiss said nothing about it.

Instead, he turned back to Hange, a small smile on his thin lips and his hand pointing at Levi. “Is that your young man, detective Zoe? Didn’t know you were spoken for.”

“I’m not—” Hange flashed, shaking her head rapidly. Despite the tense moment, Levi stole a second to admire Hange’s embarrassed expression. She looked utterly ridiculous, and that served her right, a payback for all the times she was the one to embarrass him. “I’m not spoken for, mister Reiss. Yet, at least.”

Yet, at least.

These words sent a pang straight to Levi’s heart. If only… if only he wasn’t himself, and Hange wasn’t Hange, if only they met at the different time, in different place.

If only. A cruel, painful truth.

“Well, either way, it’s good to know that you have someone who cares about you,” Reiss reached out, squeezing Hange’s healthy shoulder. “Even heroes need that.”

“I’m not a hero.” Hange mumbled, utterly bashful. Levi rather liked that side of hers, he decided he wanted to see more of it. So…

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he grumbled, revealing in a vicious glare Hange sent him. It suited to her red cheeks perfectly. “Your heroic deed is all over the news. Certainly, the news wouldn’t lie?”

Hange’s face screamed ‘stop embarrassing me, you asshole’, but in the presence of Reiss, the only thing she could do was smile and grip the edge of a bed with her healthy hand a little too tightly. Perhaps, Reiss was the only obstacle between him and Hange’s proverbial fury. Still, Levi preferred the old bastard would just fuck off already. And— that he wouldn’t tell Kenny where he had met his nephew.

“It’s time for me to leave,” Reiss stood up, as though he heard Levi’s thoughts. “But hopefully we’ll meet again, detective.”

“Thank you for your visit and your help, sir. I’m sure that once we combine our forces, we’ll catch those Ackermans in no time.”

Levi had caught himself, before his jaw had met the floor. What were they talking about? Catching… Ackermans? Was it another one of Reiss’ schemes? Was it a careful move to boost his reputation? A way to protect him and Kenny? Or… was he covering up his traces? If so, how far was he ready to go to do it? He couldn’t betray Kenny, could he?

“It was nice meeting you,” Levi was so lost in his head, he missed the moment when Reiss approached him. Now he stood right before him, his hand outstretched towards him. Reiss was slightly shorter than Levi, which – in that moment – offered little comfort. ��Mister?”

“Levi,” he schooled his expression into something polite and, more importantly, neutral.

“Levi,” Reiss hummed, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “The name seems familiar. But…” he curled his lips in a smile for no more than a second. It was enough to induce a shiver from Levi. “That’s probably just a coincidence. Have a good night, Levi, and take care of our hero, please.”

“Will do, sir,” Levi promised, squeezing the offered hand just a little too tightly.

He watched Reiss walk to the door, then turn the doorknob, push the door open and then – finally - closed. Only when his short, round stature disappeared, did Levi allow himself to breathe out in relief. He moved a hand through his hair, shaking off the last bits of nervousness. With his heart beating that much slower, he turned back to Hange.

“Is that your new friend?” he asked as he plopped down on a chair Reiss had just vacated.

“Friend?” Hange scoffed. “A rich snob who thinks that money solves any problem.”

“Isn’t he right, though?”

“We’ll see about that, I guess,” Hange lifted her shoulders in attempt to shrug, her face contorting in pain as soon as she moved her injured extremity. Levi swallowed, as he watched her rub the wound gently.

“Does it—” his voice betrayed him, breaking right at the beginning. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Does it hurt?”

“Like bitch,” Hange confessed with a bitter smile. “They give me painkillers, and they help, but… I guess I’ll be away from active duty for a while.”

What happened was the next expected question, a friend ought to ask about that, right? However… Levi wasn’t too keen to hear the answer.

“Your friends are worried about you,” he said instead. He was worried about Hange too, but did he even have the right to be? Even if partially, but he was the reason she had been shot. And he was the reason she was now moping in a hospital.

“Sometimes, they worry too much,” Hange complained. “They don’t even let me work. Mike took my laptop away, and Erwin returned my notebook back to the precinct. I’m dying of boredom here, Levi!” she whined, accompanying that pathetic sound by a petulant kick.

“I’m sure they have your best interests at heart,” he reasoned, doing his best not to laugh. It was his fault Hange was like that, but even so, he couldn’t deny that she looked almost unbelievably ridiculous. And cute, really, really cute.

And… that was another sign that he needed to get out of this city as soon as possible.

“Rest may be good for my body, but it’s bad for my brain.”

Hange fell silent after that. With the thumb of her healthy hand raised to her lips, she stared into nothing. Levi could practically hear the sound of gears turning in her head.

He didn’t like where this was going.

“I know I’m asking a lot…” Hange mumbled, suspiciously avoiding his eyes. “And I’ll understand if you decide to refuse…”

Levi tsked and rolled his eyes. All these dramatics… “Just say what you want from me.”

“Like I said it’s a bit too much,” she began slowly, still unsure. Levi kicked the leg of the hospital bed to speed up the process. It seemed to have a rather positive effect. “But since you’ve already been there and I have the key, could you…”

“Steal your damned notebook for you?”

Hange’s face lightened up as she nodded, and, met with that delighted expression, Levi could only sigh. He already hated himself for it, but… he was a reason Hange was here in the first place, right? He might as well do something to make up for it.

Besides… he really liked that happy smile.

“I’m not asking you to steal!” Hange ardently assured. “You’re not a thief, after all,” she laughed at her own joke, while Levi tried very hard not to cringe. “I’m asking you to deliver my notebook from my office.”

Levi didn’t answer right away, and Hange, probably sensing his doubt, continued, “The precinct is almost empty, since it’s Saturday, and everyone is either here or at home. And even if you do run into someone, just tell them you’re running an errand for me.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he said, shaking his head. He had already decided he was going to help Hange out, but there was nothing wrong with playing a little too hard to get.

“It’ll be easy, I swear! And if you bring me the notebook…”

Hange winked, her smile enigmatic. Levi couldn’t deny, that smile had him intrigued. “If I bring the notebook?”

“I’ll think of a way to thank you for that! Perhaps, when we go on that date you promised me…”

The date on a skating rink, Levi almost forgot about it. But as Hange reminded him, the feeling of regret returned. He wanted to go there with Hange, wanted to hold her hand as they glide through the rink, wanted to see her spin around effortlessly, wanted her to teach him how to do the same, as pathetic as it sounded, even the idea of falling down and freezing his ass didn’t disgust him, if Hange were there with him, laughing her heart out, he probably would forget about the pain and cold. If Hange were with him, perhaps, he’d be able to forget about many things.

And that’s why he had to leave.

“Alright, I’ll bring your stupid notebook,” he conceded, getting to his feet just a little too quickly. Hange’s warm gaze was too hypnotizing. It was dangerous, it was doing something to him, and that something was making it very hard for him to leave her side. “I’ll be right back, just…”

“Stay here?” Hange snickered. “I can’t exactly run away right now, Levi.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, and then, because he was going to enter the police precinct on his volition, because he was doing this for Hange’s sake, because he was the most despicable human being in the world, he reached out and pressed her head to his chest. Hange could probably hear how loud and quick his heart was beating, Hange’s heart – if he deciphered the beeping of medical equipment correctly – was beating almost just as fast. “See you, Hange.”

The softness of her hair was surprising, the warmth of her body was so pleasant, the desire to kiss the crown of her head was almost irresistible, but…

Apparently, he wasn’t a complete asshole.

The hug lasted for no more than a second, but for Levi it seemed like hours had passed. And still, it wasn’t nearly enough.

That step back felt like the hardest thing Levi had ever done. As soon as Hange’s warmth had disappeared, he started to miss it.

“I’ll be waiting,” Hange promised with a smile so gentle, it was…

No. He had already done enough, far more than he should have.

If he did something more, if he kissed her, would he really be able to leave? Levi didn’t want to know the answer to that question. He wasn’t sure he’d like it.

He forced himself to walk away, his stride much swifter than usual. He hoped that breathing would be come to him much easier, when the distance between him and Hange grows bigger.

But apparently… he wasn’t lucky enough.

***

Getting inside the precinct was laughably easy.

The security guy at the entrance had attempted to stop him, but let him pass as soon as Levi mentioned that he was running an errand for detective Hange Zoe.

Either Hange’s name held a pretty significant value around here, or, more probably, the police was full of incompetent, lazy pigs.

Honestly, a middle schooler could infiltrate this place.

Not that Levi looked like a middle schooler. His face was much more mature. If he scowled hard enough. He hoped so, at least.

Just as Hange had predicted, the precinct was mostly empty. He passed a few closed doors that had a narrow ray of light coming underneath, but as he repeated the path Mike had showed him before, Levi didn’t meet a single soul.

The long hallways were scarcely illuminated, and some lightbulbs were flicking in and out, creating an almost eerie atmosphere. The tension in his shoulders grew bigger as he moved further and further... right inside the lion’s den.

Kenny would have called him a fool. Kenny would have called him shit-for-brains, a fucking idiot, a stupid fucker. Kenny, if he had known where Levi went, would have hit him until all his idiocy disappeared.

Although… the idiocy was too deep inside him now, Levi wasn’t sure that even Kenny was up to task of getting rid of it.

Perhaps, if he’d leave… Perhaps, perhaps. He’d had to leave the city first.

He had to leave the city, Levi decided and as he got inside the elevator that would take him to Hange’s office, he took out his phone and booked the closest flight available.

Singapore, awesome. He always wanted to visit.

The floor, where Hange’s office was located, was just as lifeless. All cubicles stood vacant and the rest of the offices were empty too. Perhaps, most of the officers were back at the hospital, watching over Hange. It was a good thing that she had someone to care about her. Hange deserved that, maybe, even needed that. Especially after dealing with asshole like him.

Just before entering the door, Levi paused with his hand on a doorknob. That tense feeling, that premonition returned and intensified. His stomach was in knots, making him almost nauseous.

It was ridiculous, stupid, the whole precinct was empty, he had seen so himself, but… the alarms in his mind were ringing, begging him to reconsider and go back before it was too late. Before it was too late for… what?

Levi couldn’t answer that question, meaning his sudden panic was stupid, and he himself was stupid for being a scaredy cat. It was so unlike him, and it was foolish, the last couple of days were probably just getting to him, making him more paranoid than usual.

Stop acting like an idiot, he chided himself, swallowing all of his worry down. He exhaled, relaxing the tense muscles of his back. With another mental kick, he pressed on a doorknob and opened the door, doing so unnecessarily slowly.

Just as he knew it would be, the office stood empty.

Levi didn’t waste another moment by being a damn idiot, and walked inside, heading to the desk Hange was occupying back when he had visited her that one time. The mess of paperwork, pens, paper cups and empty boxes from takeout food that had accumulated on the desk was a proof enough that this work space had really belonged to Hange.

Now, if only there was just a little more light… Levi located the desk lamp fairly quickly, but where was a switch to that fucking thing? He moved his hand up and down, his fingers searching and searching…

The light turned on before he found the switch.

It wasn’t the desk lamp though, it was a luster right above his head.

Levi jerked, whirling around, to the door behind him.

As it turned out, he wasn’t completely alone in the office. Hange’s boss, Captain Erwin Smith was still at work, despite the late hour.

“Levi,” he started to approach him, slowly at first. But the office was rather small, and, despite a step that Levi had taken back, despite his thigh pressing into the edge of the desk, the distance between them was shortening at a speed he wasn’t completely comfortable with. “I was waiting for you.”

He was? Why? Did Hange tell him something? Did she warn her boss about his visit? Why would she, if Erwin was the one who had taken her notebook in the first place? Something wasn’t adding up, and Erwin’s guarded face, damn that stoic man, wasn’t helping him solve that riddle.

“Sit down,” Erwin walked just a little too close to Levi, and then turned, taking a seat at Hange’s desk. Awkwardly, with his legs refusing to cooperate properly, Levi sat down at the opposite side. “Do you want some coffee? Or tea? Hange mentioned you like it a lot.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

What was he going? What was Erwin doing here, why was he looking at him like that – like Levi was a test subject and Erwin was watching his every move behind the lens of a microscope. The comparison almost made him squirm.

“I’m glad you showed up,” Erwin had his hands folded under his chin, his eyes never leaving Levi’s face. His gaze seemed just as neutral as his expression, perhaps, even a little friendly, but the premonition had returned, so much stronger than before.

“I’m here because Hange asked me to,” he said, wondering why his voice sounded so quiet, almost shaky. Levi straightened in his seat, meeting Erwin’s gaze squarely. He wouldn’t let this man intimidate him. Unless, of course, Erwin gives him a reason to be intimidated. “She wanted—”

“Her notebook, yes,” Erwin nodded. “I guessed already. And I’m sure you’ve jumped at the opportunity to get inside her office. Isn’t that right, Levi? Or,” he paused, but Levi knew what he was going to say, knew what Erwin knew, could see it in his eyes that now had betrayed his true feelings and looked more like two icy shards. These eyes, they pinned Levi down, he helplessly stared into them, seeing nothing but hatred and disgust. “Or, perhaps, you’d prefer if I called you Mister Ackerman instead?”

Levi knew what was coming, and, still, his stomach fell. Millions of question swirled around in his head, and that was the only thing that kept him from bolting out of his seat.

How did Erwin find out? When did he find out? And most importantly, did he tell Hange? Or… was the she the one who discovered the truth?

All these questions had Levi on edge, but Erwin… Erwin didn’t seem too keen to answer any of them.

“Did you know there are only four men named Levi in this city?” Levi didn’t know if the answer was expected of him, but Erwin didn’t seem too interested in what he had to say, because after a brief pause, he continued, “One of them is a teenager boy, he’s an athlete, who is raised by a single mother. Another one is a middle-aged, bald man with three kids and a wife, the other is an eighty-year old man, who lives alone on the edge of the city. The last one,” Erwin’s eyes flashed, and Levi swallowed. Just like before, he knew damn well what was coming. “Doesn’t really count, I guess. He had died some twenty years ago, along with his mother. Do you, by any chance, know the name of his mother?”

There was a lump in his throat, one that appeared each time his mother was mentioned, one that made it hard to breathe and pressed on his chest, heavy enough to hurt. But Erwin looked at him expectantly, like his question was a test. A test of what, Levi wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to show his weakness, not in front of this particular man.

“Kuchel,” he said, his voice as steady as it could be, considering he was shaking from inside. “Her name was Kuchel Ackerman.”

Erwin nodded, his features sharpening even further, turning into a stone mask. “I refused to believe it at first, when I first looked you up after meeting you right in that office. It appeared to be a horrible coincidence, a weird conjunction. You seemed genuinely interested in Hange, not in her work, and I was ready to give you the benefit of the doubt, waiting for a sign that would support or destroy my finding. But last night was enough of a proof.”

Was it? How so? Did Levi make a mistake? If so, then were? And how did Erwin see it?

“Last night Hange was shot,” yeah, Levi was there, and Erwin knew that. What importance did it have now? “But she isn’t dead, not like that politician from a week ago. Your partner in crime,” ah, so Kenny wasn’t yet discovered. Apparently, he wiped the traces of his existence much better than Levi did. “I guess he is the one who usually dirties his hands, and that means he was the one who killed that man. Hange was supposed to die that night too, right? And you were the one who prevented it."

Having said everything he needed, Erwin fell silent. For a long moment, there was no sound, except the tick of a clock, Erwin's calm breathing and Levi's much frantic one.

"So, is my assertion correct?"

Levi said nothing. What was there to say? Say yes and stroke Erwin's ego? Or deny it and look like a fool?

"I'll take your silence as a yes."

His cockiness was irritating, despite it being very much deserved. Still, to be caught by a guy he had seen only once... Levi knew there was a possibility that his involvement with Hange may end with him in prison. He just never imagined that her overprotective boss would be the one to blame for his fall.

"Did you already tell Hange?" he asked quietly, admitting his defeat.

His heart was aching, as he thought of what was awaiting for him next. Was Hange going to be the one to put handcuffs on him? What her reaction would be - would she be gleeful about her victory? Or would that joy be overridden by disgust she felt for him?

"I didn't tell her. She won't know the truth about you. Not from me, at least."

Levi widened his eyes, staring at the man in front of him with shock and incomprehension. Was he... telling the truth? But why?

"Hange would be dead, if it wasn't for you. That's why I'm inclined to give you another chance. Leave this city, Levi Ackerman, and don't come back. Stop toying with Hange's feelings and don’t you dare contact her ever again. She deserves someone much better than you."

Well, in that aspect, Levi agreed with Erwin completely.

"You may bring the notebook to her, but that's it. I'm letting you go not out of kindness, but out of gratitude. Don't make me regret it."

"I'm leaving the city tonight." He promised to Erwin, as he stood up, Hange's notebook secured in his right hand.

Not that Erwin needed to know about it, but he was going to leave anyway. Just in two hours, he'd be on his way to Singapore. If he hurried, he might get just enough time to say goodbye to Hange.

A proper goodbye. He ought to give her at least that much.

He left the office swiftly, before Erwin could change his mind. With his heart still racing after a tense encounter, he ran to the hospital.

***

When he arrived inside, the hospital was much less crowded than before. There was a fewer number of patients and visitors in the main hall, and those who still were present, were much quieter, subdued and exhausted. There were only a few doctors around, and their faces were pale, eyes blinking tiredly, shoulders slumped after a long shift. The only ones who still kept their energy were nurses, who ran from one side of a hospital to the other, calling out to doctors or carrying the needed medicine.

Still shaken after his encounter with Erwin, Levi used that semi-calm atmosphere to take a deep breath and put his thoughts into order. He had – for the lack of better word – an eventful day, and who knew what would happen tomorrow? Perhaps, it was the last moment of peace he would have in a while.

He was starting a new life, but the prospect wasn’t thrilling or exhilarating. The only feelings it provoked was dread. And a bone-deep exhaustion.

No rest for the wicked, or so Kenny liked to say. It was one of the few things he and Levi agreed upon.

The hospital hallways seemed deserted too, only doctors and nurses still roaming the place. The visiting hours were already over, but Hange’s status as a new city hero allowed Levi to convince them to overlook that small detail. He had to lie and say he was detective Zoe’s boyfriend, but well… Hange wouldn’t know about this. Even if she did, Levi was going to be on another side of the world in just a few hours.

However, he had to admit… saying this out loud felt good. Unreasonably so.

Hange’s boyfriend… it had a nice ring to it. Perhaps, in another life…

The ridiculousness of that thought was almost enough to make him chuckle. Clearly, it was the long couple of days getting the best of him. He needed to rest, get his head cleared up, leave this city once and for all.

The hallway that led to Hange’s ward was almost as deserted as the rest of the hospital. The number of police officers patrolling her had diminished significantly, only two of them still present.

Levi was not at all surprised to see that tall weirdo, Mike, slumped down in the uncomfortable hospital chair with his hands folded beneath his head. Clearly, he was one of Hange’s closest friends. Levi took a mental note of that, storing that information in that corner of his mind that was dedicated solely to Hange. That corner was growing bigger, and that was another reason why he had to leave, disappear from her life. Hopefully, then Hange would disappear from his life and his mind too.

Next to Mike sat a thin blonde woman, whose name stubbornly eluded Levi. Nana… something. It didn’t really matter. The woman was asleep, her face pressed into Mike’s big shoulder. The scene was adorable, Levi thought detachedly. These people weren’t his friends, they didn’t provoke an emotional response from him, however… Hange would probably like to hear about them snuggling together outside her ward. Maybe, that would make her smile. Levi liked her smile, along with her deep, strangely alluring voice and big, look-inside-them-for-too-long-and-you’ll-drown brown eyes, her smile took the most of that special mind corner of his.

The first thing he saw upon entering the ward was the sight of Hange’s peaceful, relaxed face. Be it the exhaustion from last few days, the pain from injury or a simple, soothing atmosphere of the hospital, but Hange was asleep, her mouth slightly open in an expression that could be described as ridiculous if it weren’t so endearing. Without the ever present glasses, she looked much younger than she actually was, fragile almost.

The second thing Levi was saw the dusty black coat and the stupid bowler hat. The start contrast between white ceilings, blue walls, Hange’s still pale body and that black form was striking enough to make Levi wonder if what he was seeing was actually true. It was easier to write it off as a visage, an image of his biggest nightmare that was conjured by an exhausted mind.

Kenny shouldn’t, couldn’t be here. But he was. Sitting dangerously close next to Hange, his lips spread into a wide, bloodthirsty smirk, he stared at her sleeping form like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Levi’s blood turned to ice, his insides twisting painfully. He still couldn’t quite believe it.

Kenny was here.

How did he find out about Hange? Why did he come? What did he want? What was he going to do?

There were so many questions, Levi wasn’t sure the answer to which one would be the scariest.

“You know there are over a million people in this city?” Kenny’s voice was quiet, no louder than a machine that counted Hange’s heartbeats. It wasn’t nearly loud enough to disturb her sleep. “And out of that million you had to choose a fucking cop. Is she that special?” Kenny looked him in the eyes, seeming genuinely curious in his answer. “Or are you just that dumb?”

“Both, probably,” Levi shrugged, marveling at how calm, almost bored his voice sounded. Inside, he was anything but.

Kenny hummed, nodded, expressing his agreement, and stood up, popping the collar of his coat. “Let’s not disturb your sleeping beauty then. Follow me, Levi.”

It wasn’t a suggestion or a request, it was an order, and a clear one at that. Levi gladly obeyed it, because the alternative – whatever it would be – was much, much worse.

Kenny led him out of the ward, they passed through Mike and his friend, who were still sleeping, walked through a long hallway, arrived at the stairwell and then went up to the roof.

Once they were there, underneath pale moonlight and surrounded by bright neon lights of a nearby night club, Kenny punched him.

Levi didn’t even stagger, more than expecting that. He didn’t punch back and didn’t defend himself, knowing that he more than deserved that.

Clearly not satisfied yet, Kenny punched him again, then again, until Levi did stagger and fell on his ass. A thin drip of blood dripped from his lip. Levi wiped it off with a sleeve, briefly wondering if the ache on his cheek would turn into a bruise or not.

Kenny stood above him, his face darker than Levi had ever remembered seeing, his fists trembling from either cold or rage.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Levi,” he spat out, kicking his leg. The kick was light, born more out of frustration than anything else. Levi barely felt it. “What the fuck were you thinking? What the fuck were you doing with that damn cop? Have you lost your mind? Have you forgotten who you are?”

Maybe, Kenny was right, maybe, he did forget about it. Or, maybe, he pretended to forget, letting his heart have what it so ardently desired. But today he was reminded of his place. Several times already.

And he was an idiot, Kenny wasn’t wrong about that too.

He was an idiot, who followed his heart, who chose the one person he absolutely couldn’t have. That choice, although it was only his to carry, wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Hange and it wasn’t fair to Kenny, to him especially so.

Levi knew about possible consequences, had expected them, but what about Kenny? Had Levi been caught, had Kenny been caught alongside him, his life would have been ruined too. And if Levi made that choice, consciously, Kenny – didn’t. He would never make a choice like that, one that would jeopardize Levi. Kenny was an asshole, a scoundrel, a thief and a liar, but if there was one thing he treasured, it was his family.

He treasured his sister, and after her death, he treasured her son, even if he never actually showed that.

And Levi had betrayed him.

All this time, he was worried, afraid that Hange would learn about his betrayal and grow to despise him, but he had never even thought that he was also lying to the only person in this world, who actually gave a damn about him, to the last part of his family.

Perhaps, Kenny should have punched him a couple of times more.

“You look like a kicked dog,” Kenny rolled his eyes in exasperation, grudgingly offering Levi to take his hand. “Get up, before you catch some shit from this fucking cold. Doubt they’ll let you stay with that officer sweetheart of yours if you start coughing your lungs out.”

“Fuck off,” Levi grunted, but accepted the offered hand and let Kenny hoist him up. “You were the one to punch me.”

“Was hoping I’d knock out that shit out of you,” Kenny briefly glanced at him before burying his head into the inside of his coat to look for the pack of cigarettes, no doubt. One day, the constant smoking would kill him. Then again – with their line of job – they could die at any moment, anyway. Criminals like them had to treasure every second, before they end up in a ditch or in prison. Wasn’t he doing the same, wasn’t he treasuring every second he had with Hange? Perhaps, he was. And now, it came to an end, disappointingly abrupt. “Did I, by the way? Manage to knock some sense into you?”

Levi thought about a notebook, hidden inside his pocket, close to his heart. He remembered how good it felt to hold Hange in his arms, remembered how light her laughter made him feel.

“I think you didn’t punch me hard enough.”

Kenny didn’t hit him again, didn’t even scold him. It seemed like he didn’t have energy for either. He just shook his head - slowly, wearily, and sighed – in disappointment, not surprise.

He walked to the edge of the roof and sat down, his long legs dangling in the air. Kenny seemed spent, defeated, Kenny looked tired and unexpectedly old, like the weight of his years had finally caught up to him. Levi didn’t quite know how to act around him in that state.

Tentatively, staggering slightly, he approached his uncle and joined him at the edge of the roof.

Kenny wordlessly offered him a cigarette, and Levi took it, thanking him with a subtle nod.

The silence fell over them as they both smoked, their eyes glued to the sky above. It was comfortable, this silence. Levi hated to break it, but there were things he needed to say.

“I’m leaving tonight.”

Kenny didn’t ask where, didn’t ask why, he didn’t seem to care at all. Unfortunately, Levi did care.

“Do you want to leave with me?”

Kenny put a cigarette to his lips, took a long, deep drag, released a fat ring of smoke, watched it disappear into the night. He met Levi’s eyes – for a single moment – and then returned to gazing up at the sky.

“Sorry, kid. Still have some stuff I need to finish.”

Levi didn’t ask Kenny to reconsider, didn’t ask what stuff he was talking about. If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was a fact that Kenny had a lot on his hands – Traute and her betrayal, Reiss and whatever he was planning to do. Levi had a lot on his hands too, and the only way to deal with all of it was to leave.

Kenny obviously had a different opinion. Nothing surprising, there were lots of things they had different opinions about.

“That cop of yours,” Kenny put his cigarette out, flicking the butt down below, and took a new one. He lightened it up, the lighter briefly illuminating his grim features. The shadows on his face were almost frightening. “Does she know who you are?”

“No,” the word came out a little bit harsher, gruffer than he intended. Levi wondered what the cause of it was – shame or regret. “But she’ll find out someday, I’m sure. She’s more than sharp enough.”

“You got lucky then, if she doesn’t know yet.”

Lucky? Perhaps he truly was. Was he lucky because he was leaving before Hange discovered the truth? Was he lucky because earlier that day she was still looking at him with stars in her eyes? Or, maybe, he was lucky because he wouldn’t get to see how those starts turn to disgust and hatred?

“Her boss knows, though. He searched my name after Hange introduced us. Did you know there are only four Levis in this city?”

“Your mother’s fault, not mine,” Kenny shrugged. “I wanted to name you Bob.”

Levi choked, shock and laughter constricting his throat. “Bob?” he hoarsely croaked.

“Bob Ackerman,” Kenny smirked, taking off his hat and putting it on Levi’s head. It fell down, obscuring half of his face. “It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“No.”

Kenny chortled, and Levi couldn’t keep a smile off his face. It seemed like things between them were returning to normal. Levi was relieved.

And at the same, he was sad. Most of the time Kenny got on his nerves, he constantly pushed all of his buttons, but Levi still loved him. In a strange, bizarre sense, he was the only Levi could look up to. And the only one he could trust.

Levi didn’t want to leave him behind, wanted to listen to his stupid jokes while rolling his eyes and calling him an asshole just for a little longer.

But his plane was taking off in an hour. And there was one thing Levi wanted to do, before he gets out of this city for good.

“Kenny, I—”

“I know,” he cut him off. Kenny looked him in the eyes, and if Levi didn’t know him better, he’d say that the smile on his face was sad. “Young love and all that, right? Go, Romeo. Make sure your Juliette doesn’t put handcuffs on you.”

Levi stood up, hovering over Kenny awkwardly. They never, ever hugged. But in this moment, it seemed appropriate. People did hug, when saying goodbye to your loved ones. It was a totally normal thing. Could he and Kenny be like normal people too?

Bracing himself, Levi turned to face his uncle. He only started raising his arms, when Kenny snorted.

“Don’t make this weird, Levi.”

Apparently, they couldn’t even pretend to be normal.

“And you can keep my hat.”

Levi scoffed. “Now you’re the one making this weird.”

“It’s my old age, I guess,” he said. “Now shoo, kid, you don’t have much time. And remember - whenever you go…” Kenny paused, winking conspicuously. “Stir up some trouble, alright?”

Despite himself, Levi chuckled. “Don’t go around being boring too, old man.”

“That you can be sure of,” Kenny tilted his head, at the last moment remembering that his loyal hat wasn’t with him anymore. “And if you go into hiding, make sure you don’t go too deep.”

“So you’ll be able to find and pester me?”

“You know me so well.”

Levi did. And he was going to miss his nuisance of an uncle. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “For everything, for—”

“Yeah, yeah, for raising you and teaching how to be so damn good at stealing stuff. I know you love me more than anything and you think I’m the coolest guy ever, Levi. Now stop being an embarrassment and leave me alone already.”

Hiding another smile, lest Kenny would think that his words were actually not so far from the truth and Levi did like him so much, Levi threw another glance at the night city, briefly squeezed Kenny’s shoulder and headed back inside.

The hat kept falling on his eyes, it was clearly a size or two too big, and Levi was sure he looked absolutely ridiculous, but… it brought along a sense of comfort.

When he came back to Hange, two police officers by her door were still sleeping. Levi passed them without a second glance.

Inside the ward, Hange continued to snore too. He had to hurry to the airport, his time was running out, yet Levi sparred a long moment to commit her face to his memory.

His eyes traced every feature – from the wide forehead and closed eyes with long dark eyelashes that fell elegantly on her cheeks, to the curve of her nose that had small dots of freckles and her rosy lips that were slightly curled upwards.

She was probably dreaming of something so pleasant. Levi wondered what that dream was about.

The only imperfection on her face, the one thing he resolutely didn’t like was a lock of hair that fell just over the tip of her nose.

With a feather light touch, Levi brushed the offending lock away, holding it between his fingers just a little too long.

You’re acting like a creep, he chided himself. Besides, he was going to be late to his flight.

With a heavy sigh and lots of effort, Levi took a step back. He put the notebook on the table next to her bed, briefly marveling at the amount of gifts that had already accumulated there.

Apparently, Hange was very well-loved.

Just at the edge of a small table, he saw a pen that was probably forgotten by the hospital stuff.

Overcome with a sudden impulse, Levi grabbed that pen and opened the notebook on the last page.

Since he couldn’t actually say goodbye, he should write a small note. Whether Hange would even see it or not, whether she would understand who he truly was or not… he wouldn’t be there to witness the result, right?

Right, he decided and started writing.

Too bad I couldn’t make it to that skating rink date. But we still had lots of fun, right? At least, I did.

Be good and kick all of their asses. I know you have it in you, four-eyes.

Whether his abrupt leave, the absence of any kind of conclusion was a good thing or bad, Levi couldn’t quite decide yet.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth, made him feel melancholic, lonelier than ever, but… maybe, it was for the best. Levi didn’t like goodbyes, avoided them at all costs. There was only one person he had ever said goodbye to, and his mother never returned.

He hadn’t said a proper goodbye to Hange, didn’t really say it to Kenny too, and perhaps… Perhaps.

As he left the ward, Levi didn’t look at Hange even once. He tried to pretend that he didn’t care, but the truth was he was afraid that so much as a glance would make it impossible for him to leave that what could have been behind.

He made sure to close the door quietly, but somehow the sound managed to wake up Mike.

He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes and blinking owlishly. “Levi?” he mumbled sleepily. “Are… you wearing a hat?”

Levi had forgotten about that thing entirely. But after Mike had mentioned it, he took it off, hiding it behind his back.

Once that embarrassment was dealt with, he cleared his throat. “Hange is sleeping. She’s fine, as far as I could tell.”

“You’re leaving already? Well, make sure to come back soon. Hange will be so happy to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Levi swallowed, the lump in his throat suddenly becoming too big. “I’d be happy to see her too.”

And at the same time he knew, it’d be best for both of them, if their paths never cross again.

“Tell Hange I said hi. And… that I’m going to miss her.”

Levi ignored Mike’s confused question, he ignored his insistent calls. He took one brisk step after another, resolute and determined.

He had done everything he wanted to. And now it was time to leave this city behind.

Once and for all.

#if i had to think of a summary for this chapter #it'd be something like: levi having conversations with other people while all he wants to do is talk to hange #levihan

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ola-elaina · 4 years

Text

TROUBLE

Summary: arvin and y/n getting in trouble

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Arvin Russell x fem!reader

Warning: violence and angst. fluff if you squint hard enough.

Panic rose in your chest as three familiar boys blocked your way. The alleyway was dangerous. A lot of unspoken shady things happen in this alley. Arvin has warned you multiple times never to take this shortcut. But it was the fastest way to get home.

You took this path without Arvin’s knowledge a couple times the past week. He’d be furious if he knew. However, after the fourth time you passed through, nothing happened so you felt a bit assured the fifth time.

Unfortunately, today you had to walk home an hour late than you usually do because the church needed some extra help.

You bowed your head, trying to pass the three boys huddled at one side of the alley. Taking your steps quietly as possible. Crossing your fingers in your chest, hoping they will let you walk by in peace.

“Who do we have here?”

Michael, the guy in the black jacket stepped in front of you making you halt in your tracks. You looked up, hugging your shoulder bag to your chest.

“Oh. If it isn’t Russell’s sweet Y/N. Why are you alone, huh?” He scoffed.

“Where’s Russell?” Mark, the jaded-looking guy interjected.

“I don’t know.” You shook your head, bowing it down. “I--I’m just passing through.”

“What if we don’t let you?”

“P—Please, I—I need to go home.” You pleaded, voice small.

“Awww, already? Why don’t you stay for a while?” The tallest guy remarked, obscenity in his tone.

Your grip on your bag tightens. Fear quickly crept up on your chest as you took a step back. Your knees felt like they were going to buckle with how shaky they were. You jumped on your feet, turning around when you felt your back collide with someone’s chest.

Arvin.

“Ah! Russell, here you are.”

Arvin grabbed your wrist, hiding you behind his back. “Leave her alone.” He growled.

“Easy there, tiger. We just wanted to have some fun.”

Arvin only scowled.

“So greedy, Russell. Didn’t your mother teach you how to share?”

You couldn’t see his face but his grip on your wrist was enough to tell the anger boiling inside him. He shook his head, pushing away the three boys in front of him while he clasped his hand with yours — pulling you with him.

“What so special about that girl, Arvin?”

You heard a scoff.

“She’s nothing but a pet, anyway.” Owen added followed by chuckles from his friends.

Taken aback by him suddenly turning and letting your hand go. You yelled out, “Arvin!” His fist hitting Owen’s face.

When Owen hit the ground, he spitted blood as he threw daggers at Arvin. Mark and Michael were quick to reciprocate the punch, throwing Arvin on the ground, holding both of his arms.

Once Owen got back to his feet, his fist landed with Arvin’s cheek. Followed by another on the other side. Then again. And again. And again. The two holding his arms laughed as Owen threw his punches.

You immediately dropped your bag, crying. “Stop!” You pull on Owen’s jacket as an attempt to stop him from beating up your friend. But he shoved you away with his arm causing you to drop on the pavement.

Scrambling back to your knees, you reached for your bag and threw it at the back of his head, making it snap back towards your direction.

Owen’s eyes widened with anger, he smirked.

“Get away from her!” Arvin screamed, using all his might to get out of Mark and Michael’s hold but they overpowered him.

Still seated on the pavement, you backed away until your back hit the wall. Owen, who was standing tall in front of you, knelt down. A mocking expression on his face before glancing back at Arvin.

“Who knew Y/N could be feisty, huh?” He placed his index finger on your chin, lifting it up aggressively. He eyed your figure up and down. “I’m curious what more this girl has to offer...” He trailed.

Without thinking about it, you kicked up your bent leg as hard as you could, hitting him in the groin. Both of his knees now on the ground as he groaned.

“Y/N, run!”

Your shaky figure tried to get back up as fast as you could but before you could take a step, Owen grabbed your waist — making you fall on his lap. You screamed, your shrill echoing in the alley. He faced you towards Arvin’s direction — his face fuming red, blood trickling down the side of his lips — as Owen grabbed your face hard in his hand.

“Let’s see what else your pet can do.” Michael chimed in. “What do you say Arvin?”

“Hmmm.” Owen hummed, guiding your face closer to his. Your lower lip wobbled with fear. He was gripping on you so hard, you knew your waist would bruise. Forcefully, he yanked your hair back giving him more access to your neck.

“You son of a bitch!” Arvin screamed as he kept on squirming for them to let him go.

You cried out loud, your chest heaving as you felt the intense panic creep in. Owen laughed, glancing at Arvin for a second then turned to you once more.

But before he could do anything, the sound of a car door closing resonated — catching all your attention.

It was Sheriff Bodecker.

“Hey!” He yelled.

Mark and Michael let go of Arvin the same time Owen pushed you down on the ground. They ran away even before Sheriff Bodecker could come close to where you were.

You quickly grabbed your things and crawled your way to Arvin, cupping his cheeks in your hand. His hands covering yours. “Arvin...” You whispered against his lips, wiping off the blood on his face.

“You kids should go home.” Bodecker stated. “Avoid the alley!”

Arvin nodded once, taking your bag from you and dragged you away from the Sheriff’s earshot.

Once you were far away enough, he pinned you against the wall. His left forearm, resting beside your head, just above it.

This time you got to take a good look at him. His expression was dark. Chest rising up and down fast as his glaring eyes darted at your face, not meeting your eyes.

He stayed silent as he screwed his eyes shut. You knew he was trying to calm himself down, regulating his breathing, clearing his head.

You reached for his right hand that was placed on his hip but you were surprised when he took his hand away and slammed it a few inches away from your face, making you flinch. Both of his hands now at the sides of your head.

“I told you to stay away from the alley, Y/N! How many times do I have to tell you?!” His voice boomed.

The frightened look on your face instantly made Arvin’s soften. He bowed his head for a second as he exhaled.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice now softer.

You bobbed your head.

He raised his head to meet your eyes but not before catching the dark hue forming on your shoulder. His gaze focused on your skin — his hand gently slid down the sleeve of your top revealing a fresh reddish-purple bruise.

He shook his head in disbelief. “Are you okay?” He repeated.

“Arvin, I said I’m fine. You don’t have to wo—“

“Your Papa did this to you?”

You nodded weakly, turning your eyes from him. “It was an accident—“ You quickly defended.

Last night, your father went home drunk and angry. You followed a few minutes after. Losing track of time after you and Arvin volunteered at the community center. All his anger poured out on you without having to know the reason.

He was always mad, always furious about something. Had thrown hurtful words every night then apologize in the morning. It was a cycle that unfortunately you were now used to.

After your parents separated and your mother left you with your Papa, his drinking has become even worse. A few days ago he lost his job and the frustration was really getting to him.

You tried so hard to understand. A few months after your mother left, he only poured it out on you verbally but sad to say it was not enough, recently he took a few hits.

That’s the reason you desperately wanted to go home as soon as you can. You have been avoiding Arvin all day because you didn’t want to bring it up. Your Papa always tells you to stop hanging around him but you couldn’t.

You did not want to.

“An accident?”

You nodded, afraid to say anything.

“That kept happening every night?”

“He was drunk. He did not mean it.”

“Even so! He has no right to hit you!”

Anger flashed in Arvin’s eyes once again. His jaw clenched as he stared at your face. He was staring so hard he could put a hole on your face. Despite your situation, you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Run away with me.”

“What?”

“Run away with me.”

You boldly raised a hand to his face, grazing your thumb lightly on his swollen lip. He sighed, quickly taking your hands in his and lunged towards you.

His lips colliding hard against yours, hands cupping your cheeks. His kisses were thirsty as if he was deprived of water for days. You could taste the mixture of mint and blood in your mouth. The fire in your cheeks intensified when you felt his tongue brush against your lower lip.

You couldn’t help but return the kiss.

When Arvin pulled away for some air, he huffed. “God, I’m so mad. I hate this fucking town.” Frustration laced in his voice. “ I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ask you that. And I shouldn’t have kissed yo—“

But before he could finish, you grabbed his collar — letting your lips mash once again. Your kisses were much delicate than his but the way your lips softly brushed against his over and over again did something to Arvin. He couldn’t help but press you against the brick wall. His hands carefully gripping on your waist as he felt his head spin. Like he is getting drunk from your kisses.

“Let’s get that fixed, huh?” You panted, referring to his busted lip. Both of your faces not even half an inch apart. Your eyelashes flutter against each other. “We’ll talk about your proposal later.”

masterlist

A/N: thanks for reading! i don’t even know where i was going with this but the idea has been on my mind all day. hope you enjoyed! <3

permanent taglist:

@dummiesshort / @ladykxxx08 / @perspectiveparker

#arvin russell #tom holland #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell fic #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell one shot #arvin russell x y/n #arvin russell x you #arvin russell angst #arvin russell smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you

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plunnies-n-shit · 3 years

Text

nothing new under the sun

Night Vale, New Mexico. Population of about six thousand according to the last census. When was the last census? Who knows, apparently the file was fairly corrupted, so they peg the population at about six thousand and call it a day. Driving in with the moving van, Night Vale looks to be something between American Gothic in the desert and every little town marked by rising fast-food chain signs that pops up around highway exits. Pretty, but. A little unnerving.

“...there is no word yet if this will affect voting at all on Election Day, so until further notice expect polling stations to be open. As always, voting is mandatory, and secret police officers will arrive to escort you when it is time for you to cast your ballot…”

And now, Desmond supposes, it’s home. He already talked with the homeowners’ association president while his stuff was unloaded, and by the time he got back all of his stuff was in the room it was marked for. They were careful, too. Desmond is kind of impressed, and kind of really wishes he’d been back in time to thank them for their effort. The radio stays on while Desmond starts to unpack, in accordance with the homeowners’ association’s rules.

“Just every other Saturday,” they said. “Just for the community updates.”

“... We welcome a new resident today. Now, Listeners, I don’t know about you, but one of the things about Night Vale that I take pride in is our sense of community. I expect our new resident to receive as warm a welcome as we can manage. And in celebration, Big Rico’s is doing a promotional buy one get one free on any slice of their house special. Remember: no one does a slice like Big Rico. No one…”

Well. At least the radio host has a wonderful voice. Melodic, almost. And definitely calming. It almost puts Desmond in a trance as he starts to go through the boxes in the kitchen, putting away food and making a list of what he will need to pick up from the store to start making this place livable. Shaun really picked out a nice place for him. A two-story townhouse, right off the square, otherwise small, but with a surprisingly expansive kitchen. All modern appliances, but dark wood flooring and wallpaper that makes Desmond think of grandmothers and apple pie. Not that he’s ever experienced those two things together himself, but…

The phantom of Ezio kneels down beside the window that faces the street, and Desmond can tell just from his expression that he’s kneeling down in front of Maria, trying to get her attention. Maybe to talk to her. Maybe to get her to eat something. Maybe to just make sure she’s still alive. Desmond averts his eyes and blinks away the burning threat of tears.

“... and now, dear Listeners, the weather…”

Yeah, no, kitchen is a bust with Ezio in there. Desmond wanders into the living room, picking around boxes to throw himself on the couch. He should set up the T.V. Or some of the shelves. Or maybe even go upstairs and set up the bed, so he’s not sleeping on a mattress on the floor. He should be doing anything, but.

Connor passes from one room to another, talking to someone, and when he turns around a corner and out of sight the distant ghost of his laughter echoes in Desmond’s ears. And in the window there’s Altaïr, head pillowed on his arms as he stares out into the street-- over Masyaf, in his eyes, Desmond supposes, recognizing the easy lines of that boneless slump. Or over Jerusalem, because the only two places Altaïr ever felt safe enough to relax like that were Masyaf castle and Malik’s bureau.

Ezio drops onto the couch, dragging a hand down his own face with a heavy, inaudible sigh. Some days Maria responds, but most days she doesn’t. But as much as it hurts, just seeing her alive is a balm on Ezio’s soul.

Desmond tips his head back and closes his eyes, and lets the gentle melody of today’s weather wash over him.

Happiness, and safety, however bittersweet. Desmond’s… never really had that before. He might have, for a short while in Monteriggioni, in the Sanctuary, but even that is poisoned by the weight of the world, and like Atlas he can’t quite bring himself to shrug it off, not quite yet.

But as fingerstyle guitar gives way to violin, Desmond thinks that, maybe, here, that weight is a little easier to bear.

#q's plunnies #Assassin's Creed #welcome to night vale #nothing new under the sun #desmond miles

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

Note

Fake dating AU for the idiot Heartrender Husbands! I beg of you!

As ever, I am preposterously easy to enable, and since they will eventually make an appearance in A Phantom in Enchanting Light, I decided to write their backstory for that verse. Also, “fake dating but it’s only fake because they’re both idiots” is an Aesthetic. I love them.

Moscow, 2010

The guy is most definitely late. Fedyor got here early – probably too early, since they’re supposed to meet at eleven and he arrived by quarter past ten – but it’s now 11:08 and still no sign of him. Fedyor has claimed a corner table in the coffee shop just off Red Square with its splendid old tsarist-era décor, surrounded by the murmur of conversation and clicking laptop keys as his fellow Muscovites get on with their daily lives. The rule is fifteen minutes, yes? If Ivan Sakharov doesn’t show up in another seven, Fedyor is free to bail. But it’s been so long, and Nadia, the mutual friend responsible for this set-up, has begged Fedyor to give him a chance. And since it is understandably difficult to date as a gay man in Russia, Fedyor’s patience must be tested longer than usual. He sips his flat white and glances at the door again. Still no Ivan.

Fedyor opens his phone and checks the photo that Nadia sent him, trying to decide if this man is attractive enough to compensate for his tardiness. It’s hard to tell. It is 11:14, and he is absolutely about to pack up and leave by no later than 11:25, when a tall, grim-faced man in a red windbreaker strides in. He stops short, glances around, spots Fedyor, and powers over with such single-minded determination that Fedyor fears he’s about to be arrested. “Hello,” he says curtly. “I am Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. I believe you are waiting for me?”

“Ah – ? I am Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, yes,” he manages, offering a hand, which Ivan crushes in a Terminator grip. “It’s – nice to meet you?”

Ivan snorts, pulls out the other chair, and drapes his jacket over it, then orders a small plain coffee (black like his soul, evidently). Then he returns, sits down, and claps his hands as if he is calling a misbehaving class to attention. “Where are you from?” he barks. “How long have you lived in Moscow?!”

Fedyor continues to gape. He’s genuinely not sure if this is Ivan attempting to get to know him on speed-run, or if he’s being interrogated by a FSB agent who can’t even act for two seconds like he’s not. It’s ominously possible. Dmitry Medvedev is the president and there are hopes that there might be a social liberalization, but the Orthodox patriarchs and the far right have been increasingly agitating against Russia’s embattled LGBTQ community, and things could just as easily get worse. Is this a setup or a setup? Nadia would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation, of course, but maybe she was likewise fooled. You’d think that if this was a sting, they could have found a guy who was actually capable of pretending to be on a date, but maybe that’s the point? What the hell is going on here?

Fedyor opens his mouth, then shuts it. As a matter of fact, he is originally from Nizhny Novgorod, but moved to Moscow for university and has lived here for seven years, but if Ivan is with the FSB, he probably already knows that. Is this a trick? Is Ivan trying to match him to some police intelligence file or see if he’s a liar? Fedyor is seriously about to get up and walk out (or maybe sprint out) when Ivan, perhaps realizing that he’s blowing this to a heretofore unprecedented degree, says, “Sorry. I am from Krasnoyarsk. I enjoy rugby.”

Of course he likes rugby if he’s from Krasnoyarsk. This is a disaster. “Uh, what side?”

“Krasny Yar,” says Ivan, in the tone of a man about to stand up and belt out the fight song. “I also enjoy football. Yenisey Krasnoyarsk. Though I have begun supporting Lokomotiv since I came to Moscow. That was five years ago.”

So, he’s definitely a hooligan. Fedyor does his best to keep smiling. In the flesh, Ivan is definitely not unattractive. His hair is crisp and brown, there are glints of hazel in his eyes, and he has that hard, chiseled handsomeness that Fedyor always ends up getting suckered into. Except for the fact that he is lively, extroverted, and outgoing, likes clubbing and mingling and making friends, and this man does not appear to have ever heard of a single one of those things. What was Nadia thinking? It’s not like her to whiff this badly. Or did she have to be so circumspect in asking Ivan if he would like to meet Fedyor that, even if he’s not an undercover cop, he is in fact clueless about the true nature of this social engagement? Thinks it’s guys being pals?

“Did you have somewhere you were coming from earlier?” Fedyor asks, after another excruciating silence. “Is that why you were – ?”

“My apologies. The bus was late. I am normally very punctual.” Ivan scowls ferociously, as if the bus ever dares to do such a thing again, he will personally murder it. “What hobbies do you enjoy, Fedyor Mikhailovich?”

“I think you can call me Fedyor, yes?” They are clearly nowhere near “Fedya” and “Vanya” just yet, but “Fedyor Mikhailovich” always makes Fedyor look around warily for his grumpiest professor at MSU. He tries to think of subtle conversational gambits to find out what Ivan knows, without being obvious. Oh God, he really should just cut his losses, but something – perhaps the pathetic conviction that even a terrible date is better than no date at all – keeps him in his seat. Presuming that he does get out of here alive, he will call up Nadia straightaway and ask her many, many questions, mostly consisting of Why??! “Well,” Fedyor says at last. “I like having fun?”

“I also enjoy fun,” Ivan says, stone-faced. “I am very funny.”

Russian humor is normally extremely deadpan, to the point that Fedyor does wonder if Ivan is in fact a diabolical troll genius, but somehow he doesn’t think so. The rest of the conversation proceeds in this fashion, but by the end of an hour, Fedyor still has no idea if he has just been on a date or a trip to the gulag. Ivan gets up, administers another bone-crushing handshake, thanks him for his time, and marches out. Fedyor can practically hear the Red Army Choir thundering some patriotic anthem in his wake.

When he gets home that afternoon, Fedyor is resolved to write off the whole thing, except it was weirdly kind of not as bad as he first thought, maybe, somehow. If nothing else, he’s fascinated by this, like watching a slow-motion train crash. He takes out his phone with the intention of calling Nadia, only to see a text message from an unfamiliar number. When he opens it, it reads, Hello. Your company was agreeable today. Thank you. Perhaps we could meet again next week. Please reply yes or no. The message uses the formal styles of address, and some of the spellings are slightly old-fashioned. He has also signed it – Иван Сахаров – in case there might be some confusion with another Ivan the Terrible at Dating of Fedyor’s recent acquaintance. It is a bit like getting a text from the undertaker.

Fedyor stares at it, insanely tempted to burst out laughing, and finally, just because now he’s too curious to refuse, texts back his gracious acceptance. Still chuckling, he makes dinner, and then, as his phone pings with Ivan’s response, wonders in horror what on earth he is getting himself into.

This is how things continue for the next six weeks. Ivan and Fedyor meet up for the second time, stroll sedately around one of Moscow’s many city parks together, then part ways, and this time it’s Fedyor’s turn to ask if he would like to do it again. He isn’t sure exactly why, except that Ivan is unexpectedly easy to spend time with, and he nods in stoic approval of whatever Fedyor says. Of course, they follow the usual rules of dating which are especially important in Russia: don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about religion, don’t talk about America, don’t talk about Ukraine, don’t talk about Chechnya. From what Fedyor can glean, Ivan’s views tend to the doctrinaire, but he is surprisingly undogmatic, and willing to at least act as if he has an open mind. If he was an FSB agent, it feels like he would have busted Fedyor by now, but maybe he is waiting for him to do something unmistakably gay. That’s not it. Right?

Nadia calls, wanting to know how it’s going, and Fedyor grills her for forty minutes over whether Ivan is a law enforcement plant, a lonely guy looking for a friend, the world’s most method practical joker, or just extremely stupid. Nadia insists that he is actually very nice once you get to know him (HA, thinks Fedyor) and has no particular affection for either the ruling classes or the oligarchs. He can certainly be an acquired taste, but he is not evil.

Forced to accept it, still chickening out of asking Ivan whether he knows they’re dating, wondering if they are dating, if Ivan knows that Fedyor knows they’re dating, if Fedyor only thinks he knows that they are dating while they are not actually dating, or if Ivan thinks he knows that they’re dating while they’re… whatever the fresh-fried fuck is truly happening here, Fedyor trudges off for what has become his almost-weekly rendezvous with Ivan the-Maybe-Not-Quite-So-Terrible. They manage to have a few conversations verging on meaningful, and Fedyor has found himself telling Ivan about his family and Nizhny Novgorod and other such things. Fedyor likes to talk and Ivan likes to listen, though he breaks in now and again with a bone-dry quip. He’s still never what you would call loquacious, or easily forthcoming, but Fedyor likes that. Ivan is tough, complex, enigmatic, guarded, occasionally willing to let down his walls but only if the other person is worth it, and Fedyor finds, to his surprise, that he wants to be worth it. If this is a long-con mind game, he almost doesn’t care. (Almost.)

The problem, however, is that they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a month and a half and they haven’t gotten any closer than walking through a park, outdoors, in full view of their fellow comrades. Even the first time Fedyor takes the plunge and invites Ivan to his apartment, they sit three feet apart on the couch, watching a badly-Russian-subtitled version of Die Hard and providing critical commentary. Fedyor’s English is a lot more fluent than Ivan’s, and his middle-class family, while not exactly wealthy, is definitely better off than Ivan’s hardscrabble clan of miners and loggers in Siberia. That upbringing certainly does explain, to some degree, why Ivan is the way he is, and Fedyor wonders anxiously if Ivan views him as an insufferably posh city boy. Ivan barely finished high school and went straight to working in a Krasnoyarsk aluminum factory. He definitely did not faff around Moscow State University and attend global development seminars in Paris.

Nonetheless, despite their obvious differences, they do get along, and Fedyor is unable to deny the fact that he would, if it’s all right with everyone, like it to be more than that. Of course, finding out if Ivan knows, etc. etc., has been the paramount challenge, and there is no way to find out other than to go for it. Fedyor is 75% sure that they’ve been going steady for two months, but if it’s actually the other 25%, this is going to get awkward in a hurry. Is this essentially a fake relationship, or is it only fake because they’re both idiots?

After having duly commended his soul to God, Fedyor invites Ivan over on Saturday night. He rents a tiny flat by himself since he’s been burned on rooming with strangers, but Ivan is used to it by now, and it doesn’t feel too small with the two of them. Fedyor strains his limited culinary skills to cook supper, probably making his babushka cluck her tongue and sigh in a judgmental fashion back in Nizhny Novgorod, and they sit down and eat in silence for five minutes. Then Fedyor says, “Vanya?”

The consistent use of the diminutive has started sometime in the last few weeks, neither of them remember quite when. Ivan doesn’t correct him. “Yes?”

Fedyor clears his throat. “Do you…” He winces. “Do you… like me?”

“Yes?” Ivan says again, looking confused. “I would not have spent so much time with you if I did not, don’t you think? We are friends.”

“Yes, I know that we’re friends, but…” Fedyor looks at the ceiling. It doesn’t help, so he looks back at Ivan. “Are we… special friends?”

Ivan continues to look blank. “Are we?”

Fedyor resists the urge to tug at his collar, thinking that it’s a damn good thing that he didn’t go with his other idea of just leaning across the table and passionately kissing him. With absolutely no change of tone or expression, Ivan says, “Please explain. Special friends how?”

“Friends who want to…” Fedyor takes a deep breath. “Be… more than friends?”

“How?” Ivan orders again, ruthlessly. “Be clear, Fedya.”

“Are we maybe… boyfriends?” Fedyor’s voice squeaks on the word. “As in… we have feelings for each other that aren’t just… friendly? Like… feelings which are… romantic?”

Ivan continues to stare at him like a statue for several more seconds, and Fedyor contemplates the feasibility of tunneling directly through the floor of his apartment and running all the way to Latvia. Then at last, Ivan throws his head back and – startling Fedyor deeply – breaks into real, genuine, belly laughter, the kind that he has never heard from Ivan before. “Oh my,” he chortles, slapping the table. “Your face. You were sweating bullets.”

“WAIT, WHAT!?!” Fedyor pushes his chair back and stands up with a clatter, incandescently outraged. “Are you – were you messing with me?!!”

“Maybe a little,” Ivan says, wiping his eyes. “You know, all this time, I have not been sure if you are shy or a terrible prude. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“God’s Mother in Heaven – ” Fedyor feels another prick of disloyalty to his babushka for swearing on the Bogomater, but some people deserve it. All inhibitions forgotten, he charges at Ivan like a runaway train, as Ivan springs out of his own chair in readiness, and starts pounding on his chest in transports of fury. “You are the worst! You are the worst person ever! For two months, what have we been doing?! I have been afraid this whole time that maybe you don’t know what’s really going on, and now – ?! You are the worst!”

Ivan catches Fedyor’s flailing arms, holds them away from him, and picks him up bodily, swinging him around and pushing him against the wall. “Maybe I am just a dumb country boy from Siberia,” he remarks, “but even I am not that stupid, Fedyor Mikhailovich.”

“I hate you,” Fedyor pants, their faces and their mouths an inch away from each other. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Mmm?” Ivan cocks an eyebrow. Then he plants both hands on either side of Fedyor’s head, leans in, and deeply, savagely captures Fedyor’s mouth with his own.

Every remaining vestige of barely rational thought in Fedyor’s head evaporates in screaming shock. He still wants to shove Ivan away, knee him in the balls, or break a chair over his head, but if he did that, he would have to stop kissing him, and he can’t do that either. He moans, Ivan’s tongue takes the opportunity to slip into his mouth, their hands clutch and claw and their legs melt out from under them, they turn away or break contact only to gulp a breath before diving back in again, and the next time Fedyor is aware of anything, they have collapsed on his kitchen floor in a wrung-out, entangled, gasping heap. Ivan says in his ear, “Do you still want me to leave, Fedya?”

“No,” Fedyor manages. “Because now, I am really going to make you suffer.”

Ivan’s smile is dark and full of promise. He pulls back, gets to his feet, and holds out a hand. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

(Ivan doesn’t leave Fedyor’s apartment that night. He doesn’t leave it the next night either. At the end of the week, Fedyor calls up Nadia and informs her that he hates her so much, and when they do next see each other, he’ll shake her by both shoulders and then thank her for introducing him to the no-good, truly awful, very bad love of his life.)

#ivan x fedyor #heartrender husbands #henchmen deserve happiness too okay #a phantom in enchanting light #mearcatsreturns #ask #fivan ff

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