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#hug your kids or they turn into politicians
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Alex Cabot x Reader Headcanons
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from my own wishful thinking & context clues & absolutely nothing else
Smart as fuck.
Loves brunch. Orders an omelet and a mimosa every time.
Grew up crazy rich. Trust fund baby.
New England law royalty.
Her favorite flowers are mums.
Would roundhouse kick anyone else who tried to hug her, but is super snuggly with you.
Eerily good at reading people.
Legendary speeches and closing arguments.
Would make an excellent politician, but doesn't like the ethically slimy things required.
Sees the good in you when you don't.
Stays up so late on weekends, then sleeps til noon. Even though you have told her time and time again that this is bad sleep hygiene.
Hot when she wears glasses and she knows it.
Chooses your outfits when you go on vacations because she wants the Instagram pics to be perfect.
Leaves you little love letters on sticky notes when she has to leave before you wake up.
Loves to Netflix and chill all weekend. With a big emphasis on the chill. 😉
Very hard to intimidate.
Not great about saving money, but she doesn't really have to be.
Spends an ungodly amount of money on omakase.
Doesn't let many people get close to her, but is very close to those she lets in.
Makes sure you're included in conversations because you can be a little on the shy side.
Ridiculously long nighttime skin care routine.
Has watched every single comedy special on Netflix.
Nearly unstoppable when she turns on the charm.
Makes you get to the airport 2.5 hours early, despite the fact that you both have TSA PreCheck.
A slut for cacio e pepe.
Will choose a hotel based on nothing but how the pictures there would look.
Her suitcase is always too heavy, and she always asks to put stuff in yours.
Has a parfait for lunch every day.
Cafe con leche supremacy stan.
Silk sheets only.
Sweeps you away on far-flung vacations as often as she can.
A gin-and-tonic is her Bad Day at Work drink.
Got in trouble all the time as a kid for playing with her mom's makeup.
Would 100% use her family's private jet if you hadn't convinced her it was socially and environmentally unethical. She hated that you were right.
Mulled wine on Christmas Eve. Always.
Will melt if you give her jewelry. Doesn't even care that she could buy herself better pieces.
Lets you get quirky and colorful with holiday decorations inside, but outside it's classic white lights and wreaths and candles only.
Would never ever admit it but gets pissed when you don't interact with her Instagram posts.
Favorite candy is Skittles, but she feels this undermines her badass bitch persona at work, so she'll only eat them at home.
Secretly likes to wind down with a joint on Friday nights after work.
Reminds you to wear SPF moisturizer. Every. Single. Day.
Holds your hand firmly in crowds so you don't get separated.
Takes so long in the shower in the morning that sometimes you have to get in, wash, and get out all while she's still showering.
Gets a facial and a massage every week like the bougie bitch she is.
Gives absolutely no fucks.
You do not want to be on the receiving end of an Alex glare.
The ultimate hype man. Believes in you so much that you actually believe in yourself.
Never not running late because it takes her so long to get ready. But somehow always gets there on time?
Compliments you incessantly. Like to the point that it flustered you at first.
Has to drink herbal tea instead of coffee after lunch or she'll be up all night.
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My Flame Hero
Chapter 1
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Pairing: Enji Todoroki x Reader
Genre: Enji Todoroki X Reader, ⚠️smut⚠️, fluff, angst, age difference, divorced Endeavor, ⚠️anime spoilers⚠️
Words: 3k
Summary: Your relationship with your boss, the flame hero, started on a wild night in the hot springs. Time continues passing and you two seem closer than ever.
A/N: Hello again! As you know, I love this idea of how Enji Todoroki's life has changed after all his character development. This time, I was thinking about how society and his kids would react when knowing he's starting a new relationship. Once again, I must thank @merrymonkey for creating the art. ❤️
🔥Clic here to read the first part of the story🔥
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Chapter 1
Sitting next to All Might, Endeavor crossed his giant arms and frowned at the screen in front of him. It was playing scenes of both his and the blonde's most epic battles. Everyone in the audience praised and people from the media kept taking pictures.
"Come on, Todoroki, change that face!" said All Might laughing and hugging him.
“Get off! I hate this, it makes me feel old. Why the hell did they have to do a whole anniversary celebration?"
"Stop whining! When you accepted the position, this was included. Hey, look! A picture of the day you opened your agency. And there I am!"
Enji frowned even more when he saw himself young, with much more energy and without that scar on his face that he hated so much. Now that he was getting closer to his 50s, he looked so different. He was about to go down that spiral of thoughts concerning his age when he felt how an elbow hit him in the ribs. Turning around, he discovered that it was his youngest son.
“Dad, try to smile. You look more terrifying than usual."
Forced to soften his expression, Enji kept looking at the tribute they had made for him and All Might. It was supposed to be something small, his agency had only received an invitation for the inauguration of a new school dedicated to the two legendary heroes. He tried not to attend and for his son to go in his place, but your insistence and Shoto's forced him to show up.
Upon arrival, Enji cursed when he noticed some politicians and reporters there. He was already close to dealing with all of them during the Hero Billboard Chart JP of that year, but now, he would have to do it before. He missed when he didn't have to worry about those events and it was All Might who had to give the speeches.
"I shouldn't be here looking at pictures of me, I should be working." He commented to his son in a low voice.
“Relax, you left your trusted heroes in charge of the agency for today. Midoriya and Bakugo are there too, nothing will happen if you're away for a while."
“Last time I wasn't in the office, you and your friends destroyed two buildings for not being careful, Shoto. I ended up paying for those damn reconstructions out of my own pocket.”
"It wasn't my fault, Bakugo got out of hand because of Midoriya's comment and then we couldn't calm him down." Shoto clarified, very embarrassed by that accident. "Besides, that won't happen today, you left your girlfriend in charge of those two, right?"
Endeavor sighed remembering how permissive you were with those boys, and if it was Hawks, the matter was worse. However, the number 1 hero couldn't continue the conversation, since at that moment they had shown the photograph of the day he fought against the Nomu. It was epic and memorable, there was no one who did not know that photograph. Yet, that day the hero could not do more than look at his face covered in blood from the tremendous wound he had received. Stealthily, he brought his hand to his face and as soon as he felt that area where his skin felt different, he immediately removed his hand.
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Back at the agency, Enji and Shoto entered together and as usual, wherever they passed, people greeted them by bowing their heads showing respect. Apparently, it was a normal day, many of the heroes were in the office that day and not on patrol. Among them, Shoto noticed his friends, who were miraculously talking like civilized people while having some tea.
While Bakugo and Deku greeted your boyfriend, you and Hawks were also getting closer.
“Congratulations, big boss! Looking good, huh, old man?”
Hawks touched a nerve in his head calling him that, causing Endeavor to glare at him and Midoriya to swallow hard at the same time that Bakugo laughed, nothing made him more amused than seeing the flame hero upset.
"Don't tell me you were watching the broadcast, you must have been working," Enji scolded.
“The guys took care of everything quickly and we had the rest of the afternoon free.” You clarified with a discreet smile, although Shoto and Hawks knew about you, the others had no idea.
That easily you managed to lower the bad mood of the hero, who nodded silently.
"Okay, since we're finishing early today, how about we all go for a beer?" Hawks proposed.
“And since it's early we can go to karaoke! What do you say, Kacchan, do you want to go?" Deku asked so excited that his eyes were shining, of course, he only made Bakugo look at him with contempt and growl. “Todoroki, do you want to come with us? Let's call the others, I'm sure they'll want to go!”
"Wait a moment! What do you mean to go for a beer?" Endeavor asked, getting upset again. “Hawks, what the hell's on your mind? They are children!"
“They aren't children, they're already adults. In just a couple of months, these guys will graduate from the U.A. In fact, why don't you join us, Endeavor? If there's anyone here who can teach them to drink, it's you."
You couldn't help but laugh at Hawks' inappropriate comment. On numerous occasions the three of you had gone drinking, Best Jeanist had also accompanied you, as well as Mirko, who drank more than all the pro heroes put together. Nevertheless, Endeavor had never gone out with the young boys to drink.
"Nobody has to teach me how to drink, nobody has to teach me anything!" Bakugo exclaimed.
"Come on, Endeavor, you don't have anything to do either, we already checked your schedule." Hawks insisted.
"What's happening Dad? Do you have so little resistance to alcohol that you prefer not to go?”
“Careful, Shoto! You shouldn't even be drinking if you're preparing to be…”
“Here we go again…” You whispered in Hawks's ear and even yawned, you already knew Enji was coming up with a speech for his son. A speech that only Deku listened carefully.
Enji spoke until you discreetly placed your hand on his shoulder. Anyone would think that you did it to get closer to the boys, but your boyfriend knew that you did it so that he would leave Shoto alone.
“What do they say if you call your friends and we meet at the entrance?” You asked winking at the three boys, whose cheeks turned red, for none of them could deny that you were gorgeous.
Everyone at the agency said it, Enji Todoroki's right hand was spectacular, and just as you had caught the attention of your boss with your personality and with your sexy costume, you had also done it with practically all the men who worked there. However, seeing the idiotic smile of the four of them, Endeavor raised his flames higher and brought them back to the ground.
“If you're done, get out of here. And you, Miss Plans," he said directing his turquoise eyes at you. “May I have a word with you in my office?”
Following your boss, you disappeared with him while Hawks was in charge of taking the boys out, he was sure that Endeavor wouldn't let you leave just like that, Shoto himself knew it.
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Once in the privacy of Enji's office, as soon as he closed the door, you walked over to his desk and sat there, laughing at the frown of your man.
"Why are you so grumpy today?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He responded by opening a couple of buttons on his shirt to make himself more comfortable.
"Honey" you called crossing your legs, and when he looked up and fixed his gaze on you, he finally flashed his first honest smile of the day, a little lustful, but honest. "You really don't want to go?"
The handsome hero had cornered you by bringing both hands to his desk, barely encircling your hip, and not letting you move. Then, fixing you with that look that had made countless villains tremble, he shook his head.
"Why would I want to go drinking with some kids if I can do it with you?"
Biting your lips, you began to feel Enji's hands opening your legs a little more and his lips getting closer and closer to your neck until, without warning, he bit you and then began to lick and suck, first slowly, but then with more intensity. You wanted to keep talking to him, but it was practically impossible when he was distracting you like that, and when you could perceive his manly scent so close, you had always loved how he smelled, it was one of the first things that made you lose your head for him.
The burning heat that emanated from your boyfriend every time you were together abruptly subsided, just as his kissing stopped. It was enough for you to hear how his breathing changed to know that he had gotten upset, but you didn't understand what had made him so angry until they knocked on the door a second time.
"WHAT?!" The redhead roared with a tone of voice that made the entire office rumble.
"Enji!" Very embarrassed for not knowing who was outside, you patted him on the chest before getting off the desk and adjusting your clothes a bit. "Stop responding like that."
"The door is locked, that means I don't want anyone to come in!" He also fixed his clothes and walked to the chair, he had to sit down or his erection would give away what you were about to do.
"Hey, boss, it's me!"
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” Endeavor cursed, slamming his fist into the desk.
Aware that Enji couldn't open, you did it yourself. Hawks entered the office with his eyes closed, which caused you to laugh but the flame hero wanted to burn him right there.
"What do you want? Shouldn't you be on your way to who knows where?"
“The guys are asking about your girlfriend. How do you want me to explain to them that she's not there because you're fucking her brain out?" The next thing Hawks felt didn't even come from Enji, but from you when you hit him hard on the head, causing the redhead to grin from ear to ear.
"Why didn't you just say we had a meeting?"
“Midoriya has the innocence of a baby, but your son and Bakugo don't. They were with us all day, they know there was nothing to talk about.”
"Hawks is right." You said with a sigh, after all, you had waited all day to be alone with Enji. "I'll go with them for a while and see you at home later."
"What?!" With Endeavor's exasperated question came a shout from Hawks covering his eyes again and yelling at the two of them to make him see such things. "You’re not leaving! You're with me!"
"I won't be long, I promise you." You said completely ignoring all the drama that Hawks was making for having to witness his boss's huge boner.
Finally, you managed to convince Enji that it would be best not to arouse suspicion, and although you knew that he had been furious, resentful, and wallowing in jealousy, you went out with them.
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Late at night, Enji was in your new apartment. Although you told him that it was not necessary, there was no way he would change his mind, he wanted to buy a place for you two. As expected, the hero spared no expense, as he wanted a place that was comfortable and private enough that no one would disturb you. Thus, while he waited for you to arrive, he read the reports of the last jobs he had done. He had a hard time focusing, at first, he thought he was tired and that's why he couldn't read well. He even cursed the one who had written those reports in such small letter size. In fact, he was doing just that when you greeted him from the door of his office.
"Are you fighting alone, handsome?" You asked hiding a mocking smile; however, your face changed when you noticed how your boyfriend was dressed. It drove you crazy to see him in those traditional and comfortable clothes he used at home.
“Tomorrow that secretary will listen to me. I already told her to stop printing like this! You can't read anything.” Exasperated, he handed you the papers.
"I think the problem's not your secretary, it's that you need glasses, dear."
“I don't need glasses! My eyesight has always been the best of all!”
"Enji, if you keep freaking out and throwing flames around you, one day you won't be able to see properly."
"I can see well! I don't need glasses." The flame hero looked at you seriously and crossed his arms. “Did you see the hour, kid? It was supposed to be fast. I dined alone.” You didn't even try to hide your smile, no one would believe you if you said how spoiled Enji Todoroki was and how much he hated being away from you.
Fortunately, it wasn't hard for you to apologize, because as soon as you proposed to take a bath together, you won him back.
One of your favorite parts of the new apartment was the outdoor jacuzzi. Being in such a remote area, you could enjoy the tranquility of the night and take a bath while you admired the city lights.
Sitting on Enji's lap, you massaged his wide and sturdy shoulders. You could tell he was tense, which wasn't easy to identify considering every muscle in his body was rock solid; however, his body language told you that something was up with him.
"You didn't like the tribute they gave you, right?" Your question caused Enji to open his eyes again, he had been enjoying your hands, but the memory of the afternoon clouded his gaze. "I know you don't like those kinds of activities, but I didn't expect this to bother you so much."
“It wasn't the activity. I just felt like it had been a long time since I started on this. I've worked so hard, kid, I don't realize how quickly the years have gone by.
"Nostalgic, huh?"
With his typical smile that made every part of your body vibrate, Enji nodded.
“I think I'm spending too much time with Toshinori. Anyway… now that I remember, Hawks interrupted us earlier.”
And just like that, your boyfriend was back, that scorching look giving him away that he had thought about you all day and that now having you close, he didn't care about anything other than causing you pleasure.
"Kid..." he called, attacking your neck again but this time he didn't show the slightest delicacy, he bit you so hard that you couldn't silence a moan. “What did I tell you about your smiles? You keep showing them to everyone like it's nothing, like they're not mine."
It was inevitable for Endeavor to heat the atmosphere when he got aroused, you'd already gotten used to ending up drenched in sweat every time you made love to your boyfriend. So once the water got hotter, you knew he was ready to make you scream.
Sex with Enji was still as hot and passionate as the first time in the hot springs, just as aggressive. It seemed that you were his prey and that he was ready to jump on you at any moment. The flames that emanated from his body and his penetrating gaze warned you to be prepared, but above all, the enormous erection that you found in your boyfriend every day did so. There were nights when you didn't sleep at all because Endeavor simply couldn't stop fucking, you and everything seemed to indicate that that would be one, because although you didn't know, he wanted to show you and himself that the others were wrong, he hadn't aged yet.
Unlike all those nights in which you allowed him to tempt you until you begged him to enter your body, this time you could only dig your nails into his manly back. Enji waited for absolutely nothing to penetrate you; after all, he knew that once by his side, you were always ready to receive him.
The redhead moaned in pleasure feeling how tight you were. Sometimes he was so cruel that to provoke you, he would just put in the tip of his cock and not move for a few seconds. He tempted you by letting you feel his body throbbing inside you, he made you want to lose control of his hips, but he didn't, he just looked at you with an evil smile.
“I hate you so much…”
Your comment made him laugh exactly the same way he did when he cornered a villain. Of course, hearing his laughter at that moment could only turn you on more, but when you tried to move, he didn't let you, he held your legs very tightly, a little more and his hands would be marked on your thighs by days. However, you were just as stubborn as he was, and you kept trying to move. That little fight to see which one had more power made the moment even more erotic. Endeavor was dying to fuck, but he was so proud and he liked to dominate you so much that he would put you in your place first.
"Who do you think you're dealing with, kid?" He asked you, frowning and sounding somewhat offended, even annoyed.
"Let go of me" You commanded, but instead, you only managed to get him to hold you tighter and to show you that he was doing what he wanted. Endeavor moved a little, just a little, but it was enough for you to bite your lips so as not to scream at how good it felt.
Delighted that you were the one he shared his nights with, Endeavor looked at you with a mixture of charm and anger. You continued refusing to obey him and, as cunning as ever, you activated your quirk, one that put him at a disadvantage. As long as you were in physical contact with your opponent, you could mind control him to do whatever you wanted. Just as you could increase the capacity of any quirk with a single command, you could disarm him.
"You're not gonna make it." He warned you when he heard your voice in his mind.
However, Endeavor had chosen you as his sidekick with good reason, and even someone like him with the strong willpower he had, fell when he faced you. Your order was not for him to release you, but to move his hips. If Enji wanted to break free of your spell, he had to let go of your legs, and get away from you, and it was something you knew he wouldn't do for the world. Furious, but even more excited than before seeing how strong you were, he kissed you passionately. Without knowing if he did it to distract you or not, you just received him with the same ardor.
The kiss ended, but you didn't deactivate your quirk, if Endeavor didn't let you use your legs, you could still use other parts of your body. That was how you managed to break his will. Enji growled from the fury he felt seeing that he was not capable of ignoring your orders, and you chuckled feeling how he kept fighting. The more he fought, the more passionately you now devoured his neck. Normally you marked it where the costume hid, but that night you didn't care, Enji had played too much with you. The hero realized what you were doing, where you were leaving obvious marks, but far from being annoyed, he got even more aroused thinking about how cheeky, stubborn, and possessive you could be.
Thus, after a while Enji's huge hands left your legs, but only for one of them to hold you by your hair, he could feel your neck with his fingers.
“You have no idea what you got yourself into.” He said holding you tight.
“Why don't you teach me, number one? What's wrong, a few orders were enough to break you down?"
The heat that came out of Enji's body upon hearing that would have driven anyone else away, but you were used to it, you could take it now. Your boyfriend had been upset, you knew he couldn't stand being provoked, he was too proud to ignore something like that. You had gotten yourself into trouble, but one you could never regret.
Endeavor didn't stop all night, he didn't care that you trembled from so much pleasure, or that you asked him for some time, he kept fucking you until your voice didn't come out. That night you didn't see the slightest trace of tenderness in his movements. Countless times you thought that your body would give no more, but Enji knew your limits and calculated to just reach them but not pass them, not because he had compassion, but because he was not going to let you save yourself so easily.
After having been in the jacuzzi for a long time, he took you to bed. You bit the pillows, you soaked the sheets and Enji didn't stop, he kept going in and out of your body as if it was the first time he was tasting you. Endeavor was the only one capable of reaching parts of your body that only he knew about, points that caused you so much pleasure that he even managed to bring you to tears.
He had you on your back holding on to your hips for so long that now it wasn't just your legs, your hips would also have his huge hands marked for who knows how long. You felt how the sweat that fell from his chest drenched your back, and it seemed so provocative to you that you had orgasms just for feeling that, for hearing his growls in your ears, and for feeling his burning breath on the back of your neck.
And not to mention your poor knees, because Enji indulged himself in that position, in which he only let you use the muscles of your legs because he held you behind the wrists. The hero was willing to remove any trace of sanity or purity that remained in you. That was how Enji came over and over again that night. He did it whenever he wanted, on your face, on your breasts, on your mouth, on your back, legs, inside you, You couldn't be more full of him, literally.
You don't remember when you fell asleep, exhausted from so much physical activity. The next morning when you opened your eyes, you wanted to die right there, everything hurt, you could swear that even your hair hurt. There was no way you were working that day, luckily it was Saturday.
Enji didn't wake up early either, that day the handsome hero slept by your side until almost noon, something that rarely happened; however, his body also needed rest, never like yours, of course. The night had been so wild that as soon as you opened your eyes, you saw how hurt his back and shoulders were. You tried to get up, but you couldn't and your moaning automatically woke up your boyfriend.
"Hi, kid." He greeted with a hoarse voice, but with a sweet smile, while, stretching out his arm, he brought you closer to his huge body.
"I can't move" you muttered.
"Perfect, that's what I wanted to hear."
"You, idiot" You responded trying to push him, but you couldn't even move an arm. Laughing heartily, Endeavor took your hand and kissed it before placing it on top of his pecs. "I'm serious. I think you broke me.”
"I can fix you back, baby, that's not a problem." Before you could answer anything, the redhead kissed your forehead and then stared at your face. “How can you be this stunning?”
"Oh please! I'm a mess.”
"You're MY mess, my beautiful and sweet mess."
You smiled back, barely able to caress his cheek. A short time later, he got up, and if you had been able, you would have stopped him, but you couldn't, everything hurt.
"I'll be right back, I'll go get something to eat."
"Enji" you called as he was almost out the door and as soon as he turned around, you spoke again. "I love you."
From where you were you could see how the hero's cheeks blushed a little.
"I love you too, kid." He said before disappearing with a smile.
After a while, you had breakfast in the comfort of your bed next to Enji. Despite what anyone would think, your boyfriend knew how to cook and when he had time, he would prepare delicious meals for you. The truth was that the number 1 hero treated you like a queen, he pampered you a lot, more than you could believe yourself. He always made sure you had your favorite foods at home; in fact, he had started doing the groceries himself, something that still surprised you, but later you discovered that it was because he wanted to make sure that you had everything you liked so that you felt comfortable and began to see that apartment as your home. Enji had tried hard to make it that way, he even hired a decorator and as a surprise to you, he wanted the apartment to have your essence. Curiously, you didn't have such different likes. Maybe Endeavor was a bit more traditional, but he liked the touch you gave not only to the apartment but to his life as well.
Enji also wanted you to have your clothes there, and even though you told him it wasn't necessary, he kept bringing you different designer pieces very often. You loved everything, but you had to confess that you loved even more his clothes. You kept wearing his t-shirts when we allowed you, for most of the time you were naked on the bed.
While you ate, Enji smirked. Every so often he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, he loved seeing you wearing his clothes, and that morning was no exception. However, even with his huge t-shirt, he could see all the marks he had left on you from the night before. That was how he carefully caressed the part of your thigh where the mark of his hand had been printed.
"I think I went too far, love, sorry."
"Why? You know I love it when you do it." You responded by winking at him.
Having regained a bit of energy after eating something, you reached over to kiss his cheek, but when you did, your eye was caught by a silver hair among the ones that covered his beard. You also noticed that there were also a few among his red hair.
"What's wrong, what do I have?" Enji asked when he noticed that you were staring at him. You delicately took one of those hairs, it had just fallen off and you were able to show it to him. However, what you considered to be incredibly attractive, Enji did not.
"Shit," he hissed.
You spent so much time making love to Endeavor that you knew his body perfectly well, so you were surprised not to notice that even on his chest there were a few silver hairs. Or surely you had noticed it but you hadn't thought too much about it, you already liked your boyfriend too much, you found everything about him attractive. The mood swing lasted all day, Enji was serious and grumpy, but at least that didn't stop the hero from coddling you for leaving you so exhausted.
🔥To be continued...🔥
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dailydragon08 · 1 year
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Random cute Luke x Reader headcanons that live in my head rent-free pt 4 (dancing edition)
- I know I just posted pt 3, but the last bullet put me in my dancing with Luke feels, so here’s another one lol.
- He’s not the best dancer, but he tries for you. He doesn’t actually know any moves, but loves just making it up as he goes and having fun with you (if you teach him some moves though, he turns into mr smooth/graceful on the dance floor and even Leia is impressed).
- Whenever he had nightmares or couldn’t sleep as a kid, Beru would have little dance parties in the kitchen with him at 3am. Sometimes he still goes into the kitchen after a nightmare or during a bout of insomnia cuz he finds it comforting.
- You found him in the kitchen once and, even though you had no idea about his and Beru’s dance parties, you grabbed his hands to comfort him. When some music from another room/part of the base floated through the door, you started swinging your entwined hands back and forth while smiling shyly up at him. He got all teary eyed and pulled you close as he began to slowly dance with you.
- Sometimes he’ll do this with his padawans too after starting his Jedi academy. If you two have kids, he’ll do it with them too, no matter how little they are. Even if they’re just an infant who can’t even sit up by themselves yet, he’ll just cradle them in his arms and gently sway back and forth.
- If you’re a good dancer, he definitely makes Leia give him some lessons to try and impress you.
- The first time you two attend a fancy party (there were a lot of those post-ROTJ when the new republic was slowly forming and mr blew-up-the-death-star and killed-the-emperor was expected to attend), he of course takes you as his plus one, whether you’re together or not. He’s so shy and sweet when he asks if you’ll go with him and even more so later when he asks you to dance, how could you say no?
- He’ll gladly find a little private spot outside for just the two of you if you don’t wanna dance in front of everyone. But if you don’t mind an audience, he’s ecstatic to show you off, especially if you’re all dressed up. He’s not possessive by any means, but is very proud to have you by his side and is definitely the “yeah, you might think I’m cool, but have you met my partner?” type.
- If you’re dancing with someone else, he’ll just watch you like 😍. He’s not the jealous type and completely understands why other people would wanna dance with you. But also he just can’t help himself and when the other person is ready to sit down, he’ll step in and grab your waist before you have a chance to move.
- Bonus if he’s watching: someone standing next to him comments on how pretty/handsome/good looking you are, and he just responds with “they really are, aren’t they?” with the softest look on his face.
- He only dances with people he’s close with/feels comfortable with. You and Leia are really the only ones he’ll do it with, since he views it as something very intimate. If he’s in a situation where refusing would offend someone, he’ll dance with them but you notice he’s much more stiff and formal than he is with you and the dance ends much sooner. If he can tell some seedy politician is drooling over him and he CAN refuse without causing a ruckus, he will and then will turn and ask you instead.
- Loves touching your forehead to his while you dance. Sometimes sneaks a lil kiss in.
- Melts if there’s no music, so you start humming or singing instead. He loves the sound of your voice and could listen to it all day. Sometimes he’ll start humming with you, but he’s tone deaf af (inherited from anakin) and sometimes is so off-key, you both start laughing.
- Loves when you nuzzle into him while dancing and will do it back to you while pulling you tight against his chest.
- Just laughs when you step on his toes.
- When you’re done dancing, he’ll pull you into a tight hug, murmur a soft “thank you, sweetheart/starflower/[insert whatever term of endearment you want],” and leave a little kiss on your temple.
- If marriage/a wedding is your thing, he’s so excited to do the first dance with you and tries to hide his little sniffle and watery eyes. Once everyone leaves at the end of the night, he’ll pull you to the middle of the dance floor to have another one.
- Will literally do this with you till the day you die, even when he’s old and gray and his joints don’t sway as well as they used to.
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ladydisastah · 2 years
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Silent Library
This is a very suggestive chapter.
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You were a librarian in this miserable fucked up school. Don't get it wrong, you loved your job but not the circumstances. Your library was barely visited if it was some books  were torn or your ass got smacked.(You're a sexy librarian). Then there was this boy, his name was Daesok. He was very nice. Somehow he started getting bullied and most of the time came to the library to seek refuge. You regularly had meaningful conversations with him behind your counter. When people knew about that. Most of the bullied came to seek refuge in the shelves of your library. They felt safe, where no upperclassmen came to bother them. After some time you felt like it was your duty to protect them. One day while rearranging the bookshelves you heard some sniffling behind you. You turned around and saw Daesok was crying. It wasn't unusual to see him like this but it was different. He suddenly hugged you while sobbing which startled you at first, you then hugged him was, He nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck (Nothing's happening). Some days later you learnt the news of his death.
It was devastating, you took a day off to cool down and get your thoughts together. You deeply cherished this kid. When you came back your bosses (the principal & vice principal) asked you to keep your lips shut or you'll loose your job. You really thought about saying everything you knew but... If you lost your job, who will take care of the kids of the library. It took every will you had to keep your mouth shut. You were still sad about the kid's death but you have to move on. (You don't want the Babadook to come and visit).
*SMACK*
Your ass got slapped again by some upperclassman. You recognized him as being the son of a politician. You glared at him while one of his friends unwillingly gave him money. You kept pushing the cart of the brand new books you had to order since some students kept stealing and spoiling them.
You then heard some very loud noises, curiosity got the best of you and you went to investigate. There was this man, he was dressed entirely in black and was beating the shit out of a 1st year bully. You wanted to interfere, but... It was so satisfying that you just kept observing. You smiled at his comeuppance and then came the coup de grâce. Where the bully got slapped on the ass so hard, that he was twitching and his mouth was surely foaming. When his assailant stop hitting him, you got a closer look at him. He was handsome, extremely handsome.
He introduced himself as Hwajin Na. And he worked at the ministry of education. After he had a talk with the principal and vice-principal, he came to visit your library. You were calmly reading "Pride and prejudice" with your reading chain glasses. He was just in front of you with his hands in his pockets. You didn't bother to look up as you were too caught up in the passage and just said.
-How may I help you?
-So you're the librarian huh?
You recognized his voice (because you didn't know it was him earlier) and was startled you jumped in your chair and quickly put your book away and got up to look at him.
-Woah, calm down.
Normally you would've dismissed any teacher's presence but like, damn, this is a hot body right there.
After that you two started flirting non-stop and honestly didn't care about the students seeing it. Between the flirting there was some deep conversations and shared interests.
One day, you grew an imaginary pair of balls and went to Hwajin (who was currently on a smoke break), you tried to be as seductive as possible by leaning on a wall while lifting your leg  showing your bare skin.
-Mr Na. I was wondering how to discipline students, maybe you could show me how in that "special counseling" room of yours.
He widened his eyes before smirking and leading you there. He took out his cigarette butt. He closed and locked the door behind him.
2 hours later
You got out of the room. You closed the door behind you and starting to head back at your sanctuary (library). You were in a very... Messy state. Your hair was messy as hell, your lipstick smeared, you had mascara tears, your lips were swollen. You were wobbling back there while buttoning up your top.
When you first back to your favorite and precious seat, you checked your phone and saw the man who gave you the best dicking of your life sent you a message.
-Want me to drive you home?
-You cheeky, cocky, woo woo ass motherfucker.
-Come on, I was just being a gentleman. From what I saw you can't really walk.
-Yes I can't, but I'm a grown ass woman and I'll get home on my own.
He didn't respond for a while until you heard some students chat and apparently, Hwajin lied to you and his special guidance room wasn't soundproof so a lot of students and teachers heard you getting busy. You quickly recomposed yourself trying to look less messy and hoping that the students wouldn't pick up on that you were the girl that good some good dick.
Surprisingly most people thought it was a female student and didn't suspect your swollen lips at all.
-Hwajin Na, you asshole, I thought the room was soundproof, you told me it was soundproof.
-I really wanted to hear your moans. It sounds really nice.
-I hate you.
-I love you too.
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This is shit and I know it. Sorry.
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flowercrowngods · 1 year
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15 questions
tagged by @munsonboy (and also someone else but my notes are a mess i'm sorry ily) 🤍
are you named after anyone? no, but my brother chose my real name when he'd just turned 4 and i was about to be born. that's as good as being named after anyone.
2. when is the last time you cried? lmao crying as we speak but before that it was on 1st december
3. do you have kids? ew no. i'll teach 'em but i don't need them around me constantly, relying on me
4. do you use sarcasm? frequently and fluently
5. what is the first thing you notice about people? when we hug for greeting, their smell. other than that, probably their face in general
6. what is your eye color? mostly green, but there's also brown and grey in there
7. scary movies or happy endings? happy endings
8. any special talents? sometimes i make words do the thing (and often that's more luck than talent) but nothing beyond that, no
9. where were you born? europe
10. what are your hobbies? writing, dissociating, running away from people, chronic pain :)
11. do you have any pets? no, but i want cats when i have enough time and money to properly take care of them and make a good home
12. what sports do you play/have you played? used to play badminton in school, now it's volleyball and regular working out at the gym
13. how tall are you? fuck'all'' (171cm)
14. favorite subject in school? english, german, philosophy. i'm that kinda dude (also history in 12th grade but only bc i kept flaming politicians and the idiocy of men in power, and my teacher was all for that)
15. dream job? dream what now?? jk, i'd love to work in the medical field, but i like my sanity where it is (spoilers: it's barely there anyway). also having a little bookshop with a cafe in it? i dont even need to own it, just work there. or maybe the person who gives kids tours around the observatories, making them all excited about stars and planets :)
tagging (dear god hasn't everyone done this at this point?) @afewproblems @violetsteve @toboldlynerd @marshmellowpaint @unclewaynemunson @hotluncheddie sorry if y'all have done this already 🤍 (also whoever wants to do this, feel free to share your answers with the class!)
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anxiousfrenchie · 10 months
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The value of intimacy
I love having flatmates because it creates a relationship completely out of the ordinary and that compares to no other.  
It teaches you the value of intimacy.  
There is nothing sexual between us, nothing romantic, nothing even remotely ambiguous. We’ve never kissed, they’ve never seen me naked, we don’t share a bed. Some of them, I’ve never even hugged. And yet, they’ve seen me in a light that most of my close friends haven’t.  
They have no idea what I looked like when I was a kid but they know my favourite TV shows and the way I sing to the opening themes. They don’t remember the name of my school but they know the songs I listen to when I cook and my favourite brand of chocolate. They’ve never touched my bare skin but they know that I like to take my showers scalding hot and we sometimes eat with the same fork out of the same plate.  
We will probably stop talking when I move out, in a few months or a few years. And yet, they’ve seen me laugh and they’ve seen me cry, they know my secrets and some of my fears. They’ve witnessed me yelling at the TV when I disagreed with some politician and they’ve celebrated with me the good grades and the internships. They’ve asked how I was when I looked tired and they’ve bought me homemade pasta because they saw it on the market and knew I liked it.  
We don’t share much and, in a while, we won’t share anything at all. But for a time, a month, a year, we shared a flat.  
There is a certain recognition between people who lived together in that way. Because one day, we won’t know anything about each other’s lives. But we will always have the safety and the cosiness of that home we shared. And if later in life, we come across each other in a packed street… If we bump into each other and they’re with their spouse and I’m with my kids… And if we say a few words and then drift apart again because that’s how life is… There will always be these memories. Maybe my children will ask who they are and I’d say “We were flatmates. They used to put way too much salt in their food and they always whistled while they cooked, wearing their favourite slippers”. And maybe, they will turn around to look at me and say “She looks all serious now, but she used to stroke a big pink unicorn plushie when she watched the TV in her pyjama, and she always spent way too much time in the shower”.  
These are the people who are there to see you when no one is supposed to watch. And you could choose to hide away in your room and never get comfortable around them. But you don’t. You let your walls down and you let them see you at your most cosy self. And together, somehow, you create a home, however passing it might be.
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renatedagmarmilada · 1 year
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IMPORTANT THINGS?
That G.I. three or four years after the war who brought a huge basket to our Children’s Home white bread buns for Christmas for all us kids with T.B. and refugee weaknesses in the Black Forest.
Ukrainian new dad’s community’s kindness Mrs Bondarenko’s soft bossom of welcome as she hugged me closely and shared their bed and all on arrival at their London cellar home.
The farmer’s children when we were eight near Elsham Refugee Camp where we lived whose dad and workers not only let that ‘jerry’ play but urged me to take a turn at driving the tractor at the harvest.
My painting, the only one on the wall, at age nine taken from a reading from the teacher we all had to paint ‘The Pied Piper of Hamelyn’ in our classroom speaking little, teased a lot, the only foreigner.
The aged lady spinster teachers of our town, puzzle still who invited me to their homes so often over the years to drink tea and play their pianos, asked nothing about us when all about us scorned us as foreign refugees so poor.
Lesly the Grammar School boy who ditched me, when we were both seventeen because I wasn’t game with; I only wanted to know if you foreigners are like the chinese, the other way on, anyway.
Feeding the chickens, fetching our food after school at our allotment daily in Sunny Scunny dreaming and talking all the way with my new mum of the grasses, land and warm winds of Australia.
After a half a century marriage disappeared down the drain meeting Afghani Mohammad who made me eat and live, not just work finding some men talk, feel and discuss their lives with women even though he left, never forgotten.
Dancing nightly under the stars after teaching at Ocean University under dreamy skies, the sea dark and luminous the breeze warm and gentle, the people so friendly China, Qingdao in Shandong, chosen carefully..
now memories are becoming reflections no longer painful or beautiful!
STAR TREKking EXCUSES BY PHILLIPA ONE OF THE MOST BRUTAL OF RESEARCH WORKERS
Dedicated to my dear friend Irene of Forest Gate… who was ALSO a victim of Human Research the Lunatic Fringe of Medicine St Barths London. This lady had all the generosity of the TRUE Cockney,
You will have heard and read all these words as all my work has been used for songs, for others books, for advertisements, for Council posters even.. Whilst they continue the lie that I gave them permission.. ROMAN ROAD SYNAGOGUE…LEEDS China 14.1.03.  â€œwe used all your whole year’s religious paintings from Synagogue (oh yes, the Ministry has already rung up, we will publish your work without a glance) You painted on returning each Friday night Regardless of the death messages flashed on your screen By the malicious Sarah of St Barths on Friday evenings Shown to the Rabbi Rothchild as your religious course work, A nice man A clever man A fair man A man with passion for advertisements. (we watched him too.
Slowly he turned round and said,”My love..”) As I sat watching at Synagogue they poked malicious fun at Lionel Blue And tried to cause conflict between myself and other participants Alan tuning at the moment Alan is a none believing Jew Who would have been the voice of the Jewish Art Lecturer Alan from Sheffield A really nice man though he eats bacon None religious who married a goyim on purpose And warned me And I didn’t listen To whom my heart still goes out I am afraid we just don’t have the viciousness in us as do Jews His daughter has that terrible jewish disease of the back.. I only found out much later the men to watch amongst Jews are the doctors This was very difficult for me as our order of priority is God Doctor (everyone is frightened of death what ever they might say) Teacher The People Politicians Soldiers You will all remember that the old Feudal order in Germany put the Soldier lower than the beggar They put over the love lives of everyone on microsound etc constantly..as well as constant defilement and sexual abuse.   (as I type, we put onto the machine every slight we could think of. I know I heard it It said you had sexual relationship s with all your sons.. That’s Anna) I sit quietly and listen. AFTER THE RAPE THE LOOTING…China 8.2.03..tv over We have got ten of her verse.  I chose them yesterday.  I don’t know if they are the best.. THE HUNS AND CZECHS WILL ALL BE ASKED TO ROB YOUR WORK FOR USING YOUR FAMILY FOR BRTUAL TARGET PRACTICE… “Thank you for the advert..” “I told you your work was magic, so I’ll use it.”
This was over a Chinese patriotic film, but I don’t know who this THIEF was, as China just incorporates every word since Ic ame here from the file ST Barths gave them. It could be Russia as “Boris” is torturing presently, though it is not like the Russians to have to steal verse. As they raped me (tune men) to get the count up to ten, which is about that of the department woman boss, Ann, they use ten as the figure… I have not been able to publish yet, because the Department hit me so hard, at times I could barely stumble. (Kaspar W.  Give us all you’ve got to throw at the little helpless family…I quote)
As they said at St Bonadventure Boys College, Plaistow, where I worked for a while, “it is always we Catholics who get this..” My husband was taken by the rogue department fifteen years ago.because Miller (rogue department head excecutioner)wanted freedom and transferred his jewish morality to our catholic one..(“the bomb has gone off on the other side of the Humber”  what did Miller mean?) Which are not the same at all… As they believe in changing for newer models coming from sandy hot climes And we do not…
WE EVEN LIED TO SUSSMAN She was given our report of our lies and our sins and they were told “direct it” (during my studies at Leipzig University) The Germans are easy, just mention jews or Briton….and they shut up…and do as they are told..
I can guarantee they watched the Sheffield Magistrate whom they used to lie to and even the Lord Provost of Scotland, also used to lie to. DID ANNIE ALSO RELATE WITH THE MAGISTRATE AND PROVOST?
I saw the Magistrate with the mole on the nose and a wool coat my grandfather would have approved of, once and I doubt she had any success there Sir, were you at the orthodox Synagogue where I visited and which I sketched several times.. That dog, Doctor…was asked by the Rabbi to care for me there… Well, I wouldn’t be a Jew after that night, The Nazis couldn’t pore more scorn onto the group
“POOR JEREMY” that is who is in the Lab at the moment It was a perfect opportunity to try it illegal, brutal, banned, crime filth and any sadism on this helpless tiny family we had destroyed earlier for years. We tried to absolve those Lab members.. “THEY ARE ONLY DIRT”… Whilst at Leipzig University they cut of every third button of my clothes, because they had tuned three men in my life over the years… Then they cut off every black button as my friend was from Guinea Bessau. The Prime Minister of Guinea Bessau had studied at Leipzig University and had married a Leipzig Girl.  They had six children, their daughter was studying as a Vet when I was at the Uni also, and most of their people came to Leipzig to study.  When Brussels /London asked the Deutsche Bank to give my student grant money away to a young Polish girl,(they stole my grant each year, including straight forward robbery from the Post Office, bank book disappears, next one is a thousand or two down, (Prove it) so I have NOTHING to thank Britain for) I was walking the streets looking for potatoes etc, The Communists planted many fruit trees so I fought with the little boys for the best plums but germans are very tidy and very little litters the floors, so my Guinean friend fed me and they invited me to their New Year Party, just as the Muslims cheered me up on Christmas Eve. It is with sadness I have to repeat my mother’s words, not one german even offered me a cup of tea, though I am an elderly woman alone…and what is more upsetting, in my own father’s city, recorded there by the Romans in 400 a.d. All sorts of people, usually Muslims, have been much kinder.  All the coloured contingent supported me, and a East Prussian girl, who was everyone’s helper, and the lost lands of the East germans. It is the truth.  We still seem to have a different morality to life, my own mother found this in ’46 too. Germans have many good and loyal friends I have found, but they themselves are at times very foolish.  And loose them one by one, friends who respected them, then they think they can pay them for friendship, but a paid friend is never loyal as one from respect.. They are their own worst enemies YES ROME WAS IN IT TOO.  They read the departments filth and saw Lindsey’s films because we poured filth over every Mass. They withdrew shortly afterwards”..7.2.03.. The Pope comes from where I do, he too recognized it for what it was immediately, all our peoples do…only the Germans as always, stupid under their burden of guilt see nothing. But their guilt on which everyone plays now..especially as most of these things come from jewish sources…
Whilst at the Leo Beck, my friend and I visited more brethren of that faith at Southampton with very nervous Jewish friend Ruth from Manchester and is there any wonder she was nervous, her ex husband, a nice Jewish doctor, a lovely man his patients said, used to lock her into their car all night however cold the weather, because he didn’t want to hear her talking!. What we girls have to go through… she still had not got her nerve back, though she did manage to drive a car. To encourage her, I used to ring her every Saturday, well she did talk a lot, but you don’t lock a woman into your car all night every night for that. On his wages, couldn’t he have got himself a room elsewhere? IT was Friday night or was it Saturday One gets the Moslems and them confused Except the Muslims are hospitable, that’s how you can tell And the jews greedy Such a nice Jewish gentleman Tall, skinny and a bit zany Cooking I discovered is not a jewish woman’s skill and this was my first lesson on my religious course. Do you know anyone else who can murder a truly expensive salmon steak and even kill the humble potatoe..? I can see why they employed only German servant girls before the war, well for two reasons actually..   They didn’t want their Ost Juden for servants, who were supposed to be dirty, even though two million were living in Germany illegally, many hidden on their way to America, as the Palestine Relief Organisation (jewish this time) could not cope, along side the eight million westernized ones, always the magic figure for when race riots begin from the indigenous, besides the ones the Kaiser had brought to help him  to fight the first world war and had given instructions that they better stay till things got better as their lives were in danger if they went back to the Wolinien …besides the gypsies who crowded the streets begging from the post war Germans already ground down, hence the British fear of what might erupt…When the Tsar tried to modernize these Orthodox in Poland  and fined any but old age pensioners if they went about in traditional locks etc, he was every beast under the sun… Actually, I prefer the Orthodox.  I can understand what they are at. Was it not a converted Jew who took away the citizenship the year after it was granted to Germany’s jews by the German Government.   Was it not the orthodox who warned long ago that jews should behave more decently in a land they intended to remain strangers in and where such liberal views were not liked, but it was the same in England even the Pope warned of European family values being eroded by these the toys of Courts and Kings in the ninth century.. Jewish women all want to be writers and painters instead of housewife and good cooks.. And don’t do what we do, bring up our children first then start work.. Aren’t So they copy all and sundry.and use those sharp tongues they all seem to possess constantly in defence. They should have come to us in Bratislava after they left their Russian Pogrom for a while, as their cooking is worse even than Russian cooking if that is possible, and the Russians just never had anything to cook with, but then I don’t suppose these traders and adventurers who couldn’t hack it in the desert with the Arabs and ran away to Europe cooked much there either..hard bullet peas and tasteless mash.   In Austria we make our mash taste like …like butter and cream!… We would have taught them to cook properly Austro-Hungarian fashion before they came here. Some of them are learning from the West now though I heard one guilt ridden German cook on radio declare.German cooking owed all to Jewish cooking. At first I rolled about laughing then I decided I should feel sorry yet again, at such misplaced guilt, they make themselves a laughing stock with…   So germans eat goats eye balls now do they? Maybe it was a joke.  Fish and Chips will be jewish, wait for it, it will have come from the Red Sea to England…and Russia wait for your part of the jewish reclamation, Please God, I want to be alive to see that… .  We all know this.. Glue paste mashed potatoes Green small round bullets With not a taste to taste Blessings… yes, in the form of haranguement none stop for this poor tall lanky husband even as he stood at the sink washing up the Second World War has not created anything like it.. I sat mouth dropped open aghast at such a Friday meal Had such a thing occurred in our households The housewife would have flown out of the window Much like Chagals angels Which he copied from the Ukrainian paintings and stories.. However many guests were present Ans such a nice man he was too Much like the cloth seller on Scunthorpe Market Who came over from Leeds
Not the guy my daughter worked for Permed haired Kinky Micky at the corner you understand Who sent our Rachel for his pork each Saturday evening Wrapped up carefully by the butcher in newspapers And paraded our Rachel of the gowing black hair to all friends A nice jewish name is Rachel and forgot to tell them the Mary.. Whose granny brought pork and gerkin sandwiches each Saturday For her favourite granddaughter to the stall Huns have an awful sense of humour…Sorry I am far more delicate Another Hun trait Another who traded his first as he got older They get religious as their bodies begin to look downwards into the earth Just like the catholics.. None jewess, for a dyed blonde young jewish harridan With a mouth which one can only call awesome.. (Our Shaun didn’t work for Jews, but sold Christian shoes in his youth at several markets)
The Provost Microsound last night “I did not” My dear, you should give it a whirl, Try a virile Celt for a change from your limpid Angles Civil Servants Group It might be what you have been searching for all your life… And you might finally stop relating with all the Government (just a question…was Charles at all interested when you put him on your machine? As you did your own young staff to procure for the boss?)
THANK McNULTY…6.2.03. the Southern Irish are idiots. We have the history of these three people.  We want to develop. Block any entry into Ireland.  Father Southern Irish. We released an IRA ACTIVIST for this. No place at Trinity College M/s thank God you are better…(I see they still lie everywhere) .We thought she had a little one at home. (liars) (It was the only escape route for the third son, a violinist, crippled by Tamsin Human Research and tortured as even I have never seen). Then The Southern Irish are utter idiots.  They believe any crap we tell them, anything.
When I was in Dublin, I knew someone had me in their sights, but London always has, so that meant nothing. It means nothing here in China – the last place on earth or so I had thought… ..so what it could mean there…
I doubt these men were told of the horrific torture these sadists inflicted in my little home and during lessons several times a day… Infact as far as I know, they think we are all mentally handicapped My Civil Engineer eldest son, living in San Fransisco, with his nine or ten G.C.E’s even though he spent half the year in New Zealand is supposed to be severely mentally handicapped on this file. BLIGHTY,  BRUSSELS AND BRITON – THE THREE WICKED WITCHES His Majesty Charles advice..”ignore them.” That’s ok for him to say, he doesn’t have to work for a living and he gets lots of support. I am told it was the young women, the Irmas as I call them,  who did that though they indicated it was the Muslim men… 6.2.03”My heart is a subject to itself…damn I used that.” microsound “tell her everything has been used many times over.  I intended it that way.” You sue them”
The Irmas are carefully selected Mental Nurses who are known for sadism (not my words) And Germans ………….the two bosses of the rogue dept. put themselves on having sex together… As I type, for the umpteenth time..”you have to start again, how many more times..” A young man and others including “doctor Meyer” of St Barths’ niece, jewish no doubt, made her name at Etam and others who made their name and fortune out of  your religious drawings
So Alyson of Planet is STILL robbing my work, she still hasn’t learnt ot draw. 5.2.03…today dinner at Murano’s at the Crown Plaza Qingdau with the Expats..10 am. Yesterday it was snowing I lean out the window of my flat here in China to hang out the washing, Which is covered in hair M/s sorry it continues… I have very fine hair, much of it gone now… Voice from street says..”thank you for showing your hintern” They evidently had two films made as sex continuations which are shown To their fools..to make them experts…?? (he poor handicapped they work with) Something I wake up to each and every day Evidently they had put cameras into my house and watched my husband and I.. Then a mild “tenser” something else they use continuously. M/s don’t bother all my work is registered, copied or not. All those who help us will be helped by Ann..” And so it goes all day, for twenty years, every where I go everything I do now they begin the breast nodule raising pain again…
her expressions again.  I made two hundred from your work.  I have a living to make (by robbing?)   ETAMS.. “I made hundreds out of your work, I am a working artist now, I just alter other peoples pictures a little, the department taught me.” …”if Stan of the department could rob your work for his niece to sell to Laura’s, I can do the same.” I don’t think we fed and clothed the British with our best wares, under the noses of the Nazis, waiting to be shot each day thoug I am sure my tortured for twenty years by Human Research,  soft hearted brave mother would have done…..So, more Jewish thanks for their lives. Your work will be returned later altered.” My daughter  (no father) paid for me to go on a one week’s course at the Manor Judaic School North London for my birthday, out of her grant when she was a student of philosophy and theology at Heathrop Jesuits University, knowing I was interested in Religion and also hoped to speak to Doctor Eugene Heimler, a Hungarian Jew. .  The whole week St Barths terrorized me to such an extent, I begged my daughter to come over to the Manor, which she did, including the Hungarian on the team of Rabbis..they then proceeded to use tensing torture.
“Take and use……THE DAYS OF COPYRIGHT ARE OVER”  SAYS BOSS OF St Barths January 2003
GERMANY. AUSTRIA AND POLAND ROBBING FOR ST BARTHS 15.01.03. For torturing you and destroying your freedom and liberty, we are working over all your material, University German degrees from Leipzig University and German Literature M.A.London University, Creative work of our lives as refugees in Germany and my Family and all other work.. Poland will do likewise. WE HAD TO DO IT THE BRITISH MASTERS WERE JEWS THIS TIME… If they fail in their country they come to St Barths to become automatically qualified as long as they are prepared to work the sadistic programme.
“INKY”..SHEFFIELD LIBRARIES “let’s Inky now” St Barths gave all poetry from the computer and sponsored a young cheat, male punk to use as his own. “we used two sources to pour in your stuff for us.” Debby from the department also uses it, slightly changed. JILLY AND MILKING 17.01.03. “Another wave of milking her life and work.  Department of St Barths.  I have to, to cover Jilly and all the other famous writers who have already published the work I gave them from the computer.” I have actually read some of it. We have taken another notebook from the house. I will make such a business out of your work whilst you are away…. That was Anne she was giving them out for her own popularity.” (Someone else to sue when you come back.) All your expressions are being used again, another wave…of jews to destroy you for the care you gave them.
Junior reporter on the Daily Mirror, P. who was given a column for using my work for the department, is now printing a book of all my work, diaries, University, writers Groups etc. though she has been told I am coming back to sue…
We have now begun a bogus “progress report” on you for our idiot students to use when you sue. . PLEASE DON’T I KEEP SAYING He was an Ethiopian Royal Used by the rogue department With a distinctly jewish brogue Or so he said I’d cobbed him out The Palace promised no more rape And am just down to earth.
He’d lived in my home for six months The British Government gave him an Oxford M.A. free In refugee studies would you please From Harold Road African Refugee Centre where our Council Gave him a job for pay and I worked for free Till my  real African BLACK Taxi Cab boss where I worked twelve hour nights for one fifty And studied at Uni all day advised me you leave you don’t do anything in this world for free
I had to pay heavily for my M.A I’d been a refugee once He’d run after He’d stolen the refugee money sent to help them over there Thousands sent by Germans and had the gall to tell me He’d even lied on their tv
When I called him a rat He explained as though I was daft They’re not people like you and me And I need it more than them - But I was a refugee for years and years and years…?
One day I was washing in my kitchen As the old twin tub belched its mess accompanied by radio music a brown stranger walked in on me He’d lent his bed to a friend Without even telling me with no rent
He talked and talked and I couldn’t make out why Then grabbed hold of me he was easily twice my size Pushed me against the fire place to pull up my navy cord skirt And you all know I wear long .and that is immodest
I just had to pull it down again After having straightened myself to full five foot height He grabbed me and kissed me tightly full on the lips Now young man I sharply declared kindly rape me in the comfort of my bed.if this is what you must
He left after seeing it was useless And I found out they’d give him a flat soon after that In an African complex he phoned me Weren’t they too black I wanted to ask But giggled to myself as he found himself not quite as dark He said…and now lives in sunnier climes.
“When P.Charles came into the Lab we put the pain gauge right up How many “high class’ cheats robbed her work?  About a dozen.” There were nine Jewesses in the scam We were given cheques to cash from your account as you well know. All mail to America and India is destroyed incase someone there finds out. The German blocked entry to Trinity College Dublin..12.01.03 The Serbs were allowed to torture for the capture of their leader.M/s it is the technology involved. The Germans have been the most vicious, so useful for the jews, just like before Hitler. WROCLAW Poland to torture now…Another paragraph taken and another stencil of drawings. Poland because best friends were always Polish.  It ads piquant British malevalence to torture. Hair loss with roots continuing…. 3.2.03m/s2 a.m. “Christian Barnard. Sorry the experiment didn’t work.(what experiment?????) It appeared on every hospital screen”  (what appeared on every hospital????)
BARBARA CARTLAND AND THE FAMOUS WRITERS HAVE ALREADY BEEN Anna (boss of St Barths) can we use that again . Of course , they are not humans they are just a product….…today’s whip ITCH torture amongst many others at the present  (China is turning more ghastly than anything before) M/s wash it, it says here you had nits when you were a child refugee on transports.” We took all Doctor Allardyces different reports of neighbour Joan Harrison and others and put them o\all onto the file as hers. A letter suddenly appeared in the envelope which had not been noticed before…Golly, it is just like Soviet Russia. “they are teaching them a lesson for saving Jews, Czechs and East Slave workers during the war”  window..they use window voices and wall voices for twenty years now. favourite in London at Plashet Road was Esther Rantzen through the wall, as I had admired her previously and used to defend her foibles against all criticisms. Mark. I don’t think it was worth murdering the Princess just to save a corrupt department a few civil servants and all this theft and torture. Industry is just peeping.(but what at , truth or the jews doctored, secret porn film) We put your work over Selfridges and all the other major stores for them to use at will from St Barths. CARETAKERS Each East German State got a caretaker State in the West They’ve given the Saxon rank Red Socialists since time immemorial To the rank Bavarian Nationalists since time immemorial Is someone up there playing about?
The HAIR LOSS TORTURE on computer is continuing, Each beast of the department has to try it out.  I anyway had very fine European hair previously.  Usual male punishment. But we are only just beginning to hear of the sadistic and horrific things these beasts do to the truly handicapped people in their “care”
THANKS
It’s the end Soon all be over Soon be liberated Or so we thought Thanks
They murdered so many Some saved us Thanks
They packed us in cattle trucks Others died like flies We lived Thanks
From hell to hell Yet still we reached some heavens Another orphanage nestled in forests Thanks
From there to old Blighty To the beautiful Lincolnshire Wolds To that camp on the escarpment To John and Mary the farmer’s kids Befriended me Thanks
In the steelworks town where I grew up Right beneath the smoking salt and pepper pots We worked and learnt of new ways Of those we had so admired Thanks
As blonde Pamela asks at school Why are all foreigners so ugly And the girls from the valleys became pals Thanks
Shy and unsure Teenage years working for Editor Plowright He financed me to carry on painting Thanks
The kids were beautiful Though one died early I loved every minute of them Thanks
Though divorced by himself The shamrock lads and lasses with the Legion Laughed and sang with us as their own Thanks
And though God still throws a spanner in my works constantly Called the British malevalence and jewish corruption I am still here With the gifts he’s given me Belief and aptitude Talent and faith Thanks……..
HAIR LOSS  CLUMPS CONTINUES I promised Ann I would find a new crime. Felix of Berlin who also stole the diaries along with Klaus. The rogue department answers..we’ll arrest it in time . If the trottln can cope with it so can she..  9.01.03. My muslim friends have already advised me on that time…. instead of wearing my scarf of ‘womanly decency’, as quoted in the Quoran about my neck always (Pakistan Punjab University the students assured me, you should keep covered up to the neck, just as my nuns had told me,   I WILL WEAR A BLACK SCARF ABOUT MY HEAD WITH PRIDE.   MY GRANDFATHER WHO HAD HELPED JEWS AND EVERYONE UNDER THE NOSES OF THE NAZIS ALSO HAD A SHAVED HEAD… AND I THINK HE WAS THE MOST WONDERFUL HUMAN EVER, THOUGH HE HAD ALL THE HUMAN FAULTS… He shaved his head at twenty seven because his black head of hair had gone white Even though he drank, as IT IS NORMAL for all Huns to drink drink the good grapes Even though he later had a mistress and a couple of children, but still paid and cared for his children and family as all rich Catholics did, because their wives could carry no more babies after ten children and the Church gave them no answers except a Crucifix above the bed. I always leave their destruction and never replace their thefts to as to remind me what this England really is I learnt this from the Jews, They recite their woes daily to remind them of each hatred And I realized how effective much of jewry is in an evil world What the nuns teach us is a heaven on earth, not reality Because we are a forgiving people and prefer to put our nightmares into songs, poems and pictures than spite Unlike our British hosts….
Japan is coming into the Lab to torture yet, God knows what you have done to deserve such harsh treatment.”
And can you believe Sax actually took work too!!! I’d seen him at the Leo Beck even…he’s in the Prayer Book my daughter bought for me..
THE TRIANON and SHANDONG PROVINCE It is appropriate I came to China At this time of terror for our family If only because once upon a time The same Trianon who gave away our country gave away Shandong Province too As a present to the Japanese And then destroyed Japan
The Chinese people From poor to rich Rose as one body And protested
Their province was restored to China These are a people silent and polite With much to teach those who have lost all But sadly they have betrayed me to Blighty
The English are too devious in their decisions to deliver The Americans inflict too heavy casualties and destruction Having been hyped by the wind of their media to destroy UNKNOWING and isolated in the palaces of their riches
And the French have ever been in competition Since Bonaparte’s Folly Such is the wise TRIANON… Which gave Shandong Province to Japan….
And destroyed Eastern Europe……. And all of us. At University I studied Americanistic…yes, from a Jewish professor, a wonderful person, ofcourse originally an American jew, obviously well mixed with our peoples. They then get Jews in the country to advise them on Eastern matters, which is a total mistake as most of them also have their backgrounds. However I have time and again tried to get to know ordinary people in the States and am frustrated by their utter lack of knowledge of anything outside of their own country and their total mind-domination by their media.  Having been used to the Propaganda of Hitler and Stalin, Media is to us only another form of the same Propaganda.. That to us is a fault of the Nazi german, who was then hoodwinked and lied to by everyone in the East, like my mother, (even at Lidice where she lied to the German General Staff,) whom they employed and lost all because of their pride and utter stupidity and the respect of their own people, who like my father, just deserted his unit  and strolled about in his Uniform waiting for the end of the war. EPIPHANY 2003 Here fled to China, Betrayed by China who are taking part in the ‘trials’ for the promise Of help to get rid of the Triad (by the West..that must be a joke), every single Human Researcher Has to take clumps of hair from my ;head, that includes the whole of German Human Research.  Asked why he started it, as each crime has to be ‘practiced’ by every other Student, the Berliner said, “because I hate them.” “So why do you work with them?” “It is a job.” Hi is a young man with a thick head of her, who had one of my notebooks robbed from my home. The original order from America was fifty percent of all they have. I am not an inmate, I am a working Lecturer Today in the bathroom as another huge clump came away, they loosen the hair follicles per computer.. m/s I want you to cut your hair.” I am called your mentor…(well, that is a new name for criminal and sadist)  fifty percent of hair gone just in a few months in China… For twenty three years I had to dye my hair blonde, perm it, cut it, at the orders of my ex husband Here in China, Indian Research students are playing with the local population. I guessed when I heard, “I don’t mind, I don’t like the Chinese anyway.” Britain’s usual trick. HRT tablets (amongst other items)stolen from my room.  The Indian does not like women having doctor’s medical help. No one will make me cut it, dye it, perm it now, not even if I only have one strand left. Here in China..9.0.03. Your sixty plus marks were eighty Plus and the eighties were ninety marks.  I know, they regularly show me my real marks on the tv… Was that all the way through University, yes…and I can tell you now, they used genuinie working Professors and two german women to mark me down carefully, who now get gifts of good jobs and presents, just the same as under Hitler and Stalin, exactly the same ..…and at Nurse Training ninety plus.
9.1.03 “the camera was at a bad angle” there was no camera ever, only a made up simulated film doctored by Sidney at the BBC another one of those we saved, to try to destroy my reputation as they destroyed us And the microsound continues daily, the usual voice through the wall,(we all use that one) and the voices outside my window in English  and ofcourse when I go shopping.  I don’t need a walkman…
NEVER TOO OLD TO LEARN No one comes to China for the money, we come to see and hear and to quench our curiosity.  At first it appeared I was too busy to see or hear anything, but slowly my friendly, eager young students are becoming my ears…though I have to admit, the older generations are a bit impossible to digest. Yesterday I was on my favourite soap box with some of my Haier students, the farmer; yes, industry is a wonderful thing for our wants which are so many, but we mustn’t forget the essentials, our needs and that forgotten friend the farmer.  I then asked my students each to tell an animal story.   A very much favourite of mine, a slender, gently spoken young man, told this tale… A man was out walking. One day when he saw a snake asleep.  He put it into his pocket.  When it woke up it bit him and he died. The moral of the story, don’t show kindness to your enemy. (Deng)   We like moral stories! At first I began to protest, that we Christians must show kindness to all of mankind, but halfway through my speech I stopped as the truth of this sentence dawned on me.  The problems which could have been avoided if people could differentiate friend and enemy, even or rather especially in my family, where helping too much has created our worst problems as such, so though I was the teacher, I just had to agree with this favourite student of mine…. Sometimes it is not always the nice sounding morals which are the best to follow, sound common-sense is much better….. even Chinese sound common-sense…
ALSO DEDICATED TO her husband Bill, who taught me so many facts of the history of London’s yesteryear To all the wonderful people at St Emms, Forest Gate…… Regardless of the horrific debasement over Communion, Kit of Human Research (New York) thought was a joke. .COME TO ENGLAND AND BE EXPERIMENTED ON
‘’what, they give them illnesses and then leave them?’’ it’s to see how they cope after the activated cancers and the rest then they block any help they might raise………..’’ see how they cope with illness
And particularly dedicated to my dad, Semen Romanovich Telewny Also a victim of Human Research Experimentation.
DEGRADED FOR CHINESE YAN
She wrote, herself she degraded The day after she felt depressed into a stupor she had drunken with absolutely no discipline
How many years ago was it now When the agony finally became too much to bear After a life time of pain, should she be told About the glue hiding behind the knowing mask
Then I too depressed and degraded seeking security stupid drunk as a means of escape to find love too many men like so many others had before me As a means of comfort if only for one night
Body muscle and every bone tearing as crucified Then rattling all night on valium and drugs And those who know nothing of struggling Can never imagine such pain in humanity
They never see the sunlight become diagonal lines They can never count the tears in every passing eye Grasping at a whole world becoming an unreal stage Excesses down the paths of forgetfulness with no return…
And those who don’t know call it degradation.. Weren’t there when the favourite son begged “Don’t break down again mum,” no more needles and pins skinny as a stick, there’s no one else here who pays…
AND I In Tony Banks’ rather rosy lot Had thought the communists at last had taught that women were people too…
We used her stories for country and home, we just change the names. We have been doing this for nineteen years since they have been on screen Someone asked Do they write about how you saved Jews as well, I wouldn’t put it past those lice.
Every member of St Barth’s Department of Human Research has been given some of your work to use in magazines such as Lace and other openings. That’s why we sent it to every programme right across tv from Meldrew to Maureen Lipman (did we save your cousin too in Bratislava)
after showing them Lindsey the erotic movie star on her second film, and a bit of doctored genitalia from the department of St Barths doctored by Sidney at the BBC, (did we save your cousin too in Bratislava?)
LEHAR
My mother sang and danced to Lehar I play the Tsarevitch London St Barths Told the Austrian Human Research mob And their German counterparts of horror Who are still choking on their guilt As they continue Auschwitz tortures They are Nazis And sing Nazi songs! Because we sang Lehar.
Now Elliot Gould Also their slave Civil Servants afeared of their pensions Accept their lies for films And we are to be portrayed not saving them Not fighting for the rights of Slav slave workers To keep them alive Not lying to German Generals at Lidice But in black Nazi uniforms Singing the Horst Wesel Because we sang Lehar
THE POST AGAIN One for the record book Qingdau, China.  Post Office by the Catholic Church Three pamphlets of poetry for a Priest friend in Pakistan Post cost..seven English pounds BY LAND POST NOT AIRMAIL. Twenty Christmas postcards confiscated No post at all allowed to America or India.
GIVEN TO A PALESTINIAN We say we want you to start again Actually we said Wish you would die Uterin torture begins and continues
We have given your poems This time to a Palestinian To give you extra pain
I just wanted lots of variations of your work To brand you as a copier To cover the copy I have here at St Barths
She’s beginning to talk You thought we couldn’t be so vicious Only open dictators did such things
We are We don’t care You have to be wiped out For our intervention into your lives
The Tory comments It is always painful when governments Step on helpless lives.
9.01.03…”I sold your work to Etam”.over young girl passing me.. PRINCE CHARLES When Prince charles came into the Lab. We put the pain level up high. I lied that I had treated ;you before
WHAT’S IN A NAME
Often they called me Rita And Renny, Renies and Rina, even Trina And some gave up And just called me Dachshund or remember Jerry pot (my legs are longer than that, though short)
and others 58 varieties and Heinz Beanz and some Granada mainly because they can’t work out Central European History Which is quite simple To us And it works like this Loyalty to our friends For ever My teachers thought Magic ‘e’ Produces ‘ate Changing naming noun To Re – n-ate
And all the while you see It wasn’t even my proper naming noun
My mother had conjured up the only neutral When all called theirs Boris, Ivan and Sofia Over my dead body she swore Somewhere from Denemark or Schweden She thought Using the only neutral name she knew And then she asked the lady doctor And honoured me with her handle too Who had delivered me And the Russian Army policelady Who sat all night on the floor screaming Howling cross legged as her Valentin was born Because they don’t use beds How ever much they are coaxed Not like us who in our socialised order Lie tidily on our tidy beds
Then the nuns at some orphanage in the Bavarian heaven Decided on ‘newly life’ in Christ was a good name For one recently baptized to a sprititual heaven For some little scrap from who knows where Which is nowhere We Huns tend to be small To turn me into a good Christian But on my school report They still wrote Too lively, from Poszon Little Hun from Ungarn Who will not die From the old Royal Hungary Of which their pride knows no end With that sin of pride Which strikes down the Hun constantly And blows as the warm summer winds Through every blanketed confessional In the cherry clad paradise of temperament
And now they still try to change my name After years of losing the re- As the better half changed it again But that didn’t matter either When it was heard My name was really mum Which means a pair of hands translated
And the blonde Polish lady at Synagogue from Breslau Sniffed suspiciously snapped That’s a german name Though I winced I don’t know for whom, her or me I’m always wincing for jews Why is that?
I refuse to explain Take me as I am Or not at all (see, Hun pride again, that sin) and didn’t tell her of my grandfather who’d clothed and fed them to the last till he himself and we all lost everything and as the others asked sourly what do you want of us and Walter Rothschild didn’t ask I couldn’t tell her Just to meet them again Here in this strange land
We are too proud to beg Though we would die for our friends And the jewish impotent doctor Courted my name So couldn’t have learnt his latin at school Or ever been to Mass And then enjoyed his visit to Berlin And liked the Germans there After all
I won’t have it I’ve had enough of being twisted Here and there and everywhere By politics and wars By stupidity and english speakers (the Asians all say my name perfectly) I’ll just stay what it says On the one paper I claim The children’s refugee pass So learn to say that… Or don’t call me anything at all Thank you very much….
Now China pressuring can you believe it? We have been given your poetry And told to put it into the system We ghost every word you say in class and out
12.01.03 Mrs Miller, ginger jewish wife of pipe smoking head excecutioner of St Barths Asks for more stories to send to magazines as her own jewish stories None left answers Anny Civil Servants moll, but just keep on rehashing Renate’s stories in different ways as jewish stories. We want to go to America after what we have seen done to Renate says ginger jewess Mrs Miller. The computer is full of my hair.   What did we save your people from Mrs Miller? Do you know the Muslim saying Eat with a jew he is Halal But sleep with a jew and he will stab you in the back And let him into your house and he will destroy it. ……daily I reflect how absolutely true this saying is, as we have learnt to our bitter cost.
Hungary giving hell at Church.  It is amusing, when we read what Nazis are supposed to have done in Churches and Synagogues, to find what these evil animals bring into God’s house, year after year after year.
TALIBAN
Order of Tory at Westminster Or was it right wing Tony Watch the roots level catholics We don’t want sympathy for the muslims Ever present
Was that last lot taliban There’s a secret trial going on across the world Push the situation as far as you can US Military High Command And the chaos theory by bad science Ever present
The Queen has hidden her jewels At Westminster, is that a joke? And royals hide horrific secrets
And we are all committed criminally insane Secretly to be kept low The whole family for three generations
Till all are dead in this chaotic deed No post, no life, not even an exhibition of paintings allowed In India because all was taken here She might get their sympathy
Our Fletcher has not gone down with Cancer As we had hoped Strong sods these Huns was heard to be repeated
Poor princes given fogs and depression To release the Prince from all his promises And given urges to be rid of her
Children played with by the students Horrific acts committed by the department Helpless stateless old heroes
And there was I The whipping boy for the Prince Who was in such a state By the State and the U.S. States Used as retards Just as Hitler had done Just sensatize them It’s worked overhere
Humour in situ And keeping your cool…. This is the latest way The American way.. Death on computer Life destruction on line Senseless destruction of those who can Given to those who can’t Adding as the final lie She’ll start again Take all you can You help us All students now accessory to crime
The Queen of England is out of it now That is all, no help there They who took profits from Argentinian As the British fought and died there The Vatican long ago Quickly realized They’ll wreck the Vatican yet But we have no choice But world torture
“we put every shame on her possible.”  9.01.03 (the study of my genitalia which is not mine, as I am badly torn by strange young men without my permission and the jews’ sex lives as mine)
MY LIFE IN JIHAD HEADQUARTERS I always concentrate on our similarities Because I could never understand why they battered me as a kid when new over there in my C of E school in Sunny Scunny forming a ring around me at the gate. I have fair hair and light brown eyes Never complain, fuss or criticize And more often than not do the class drawings And sing in the choir too My mothers the nuns would not Have liked that
So I say to them all, the same As I say to my adopted family Lovely sister and brother Nasreen, Barkat and the girls, my lively, lovely nieces… Look. We all pray to one God on similar Prayer beads and keep a day Holy for worship Because we are not just a pair of spectacles But use our eyes and ears, though I Am a little deaf, refugee childhood illnesses MY deceased brother Barkat taught me to say As he was d;ying from the activated cancer By St Barths criminals, it will be only this once, anything we don’t know which nationality this crime nose, eyes and ears, after that, as he pointed to the light bulb, he got the point. It is as easy as that our similarities are so many…in Jihad too!
“WHAT A LOVELY STORY’they said but didn’t ask whose story it really was. Thief
THE CRUSADES HALTED MOMENTARILY
In the year ninety eight On St Valentine’s Day We read in the East End Rain In our Catholic rag Outside our St Anthony’s The Crusades are to be no more To be halted Halting momentarily
The Crusades are no more At long last Peace and alliance with our Muslim brothers Hurrah it’s official sisters Hatred halted momentarily
The Cardinal has spoken That’s ours not theirs The Cardinal Francis Arinze From one of those pontificating groups The Pontificial Council actually Excuse my humour please Though our hosts don’t care for it, or us
That means our John Paul’s their boss You know, that there Pole Who rockets here and there And goes where he shouldn’t go Cuba even Dare you go to Cuba With the Yanks watching? But God’s watching over him I know this and so do they
Keep going our John Paul And with all that inter-religious dialogue And better still With your telescope Keep building that stairway to God What a brave old Pope With the imagination of Galileo What a rock Peter the Rock imitated
The Cardinal’s sad that we quarreled On instances And so are we The Cardinal’s a minimalist Let’s have an alliance of peace Romans and Muslims As we all search for God’s light In this dusty world of broken promises
We all fast We all give alms We all celebrate God According to our own hemisphere Isn’t it time We were all brothers and sisters That we all walk under one banner Peoples of God
Growing solidarity The end of the Crusades Hating halted momentarily….. `` Have no fear The Lord is here Whatever Governments might do
Even African nations And all nations in pain Erupt with the rain gods Whilst our over civilized Asians Listen Smile And think as they may
At Mass Halting hatred, momentarily I took the paper to my sister Nasreen……. As the Pakistani Boss Quipped ‘’ah, you torture your patients here, do you? Muslims don’t……….. Hating halted  momentarily!’’
As the Parliament orders Westminster Censor pulpit tongues We don’t need the full truth We don’t need sympathy for Muslims From ground level Catholics Hating….. momentarily 28.3.98
M/S Gwendoline the Welsh thief comes. They gave the Princess shock and depression And the Prince got sexual highs on the computer.
SCARY AND WE WERE VERY WARY
Miss Stringer was thin and tart I don’t know if tarty at parties She stayed a spinster of births And devoted her life to stopping any more babies
She had a theory that babies should drink cold milk Straight from the fridge Dare we ask is the milk in my breast As cold as that in the fridge And babies to remain unwashed Because nature deemed it so Till we and they were hustled away To the old fashioned, local Maty Home Where the undevoted nurses Who work for wages and wear nice, bright uniforms Tenderly bathe the bloodied, stained, filthy little scraps In sudsy, soapy, soaking warm water Powdered and dusted them Till the blood crusts became pink and cuddly anew
Miss Stringer would have disapproved And disapproved bitterly] Mankinds ruination All this warmth and gentleness it would seem For those who devote their life to birth To stop the birth of babies
Now as I lay here waiting to deliver my fourth Within five years or so altogether To hospital I must go yet again (I did try to get out of it) this one decided to pressure to be born early at seven months or so and I was already all of a quarter of a century or so
Miss Stringer decided to inspect And all we offending mums to be Decided to hide Coverlets up to our noses We quaked on the mattresses Me more than most Knowing what she’d say Catholic guilt pointing straight at me Those sinful words In this sinful world This most sinful act Another child But face her I must
At my bed end she stood Much as Bessy’s gun At Bessy’s breast In the old Inn yard And her team marched As King George’s men Across the Ward
What is this she cried At me this time What do you here AGAIN How many more do you expect To produce Mother
Dumbstruck with terror Sliding further down the bed And thought what should have been said The more the merrier And anyway the Queen you know And if the Queen can So can I
But Miss Stringer was an awesome creature A fighter of mums And of all this human race producing
Thank goodness she wasn’t there When the next year we produced The younger brother At that nice Maty Home There down the road.
“We are now higher than she (me) is”
SHAME 31.8.02 Hungary is sending two more Human Research to the evil, licentious Lab of St Barths to ‘’study’ And then to torture us in turn. Then they said Hungary might as well send seven more After what we did at your visit to your country We are in it up to our necks now We even got Interpol into it Our lies had to stick. 9.01.03. Hun types “I saw her naked”…really, how?
CHRISTMAS 2002- FLEEING TO CHINA
The destruction programme has been continued by the Chinese Though I teach their Post grads at University \ And Managers in their Businesses AS ALL OTHER COUNTRIES THEY AE PAID THEIR EIGHT MILLION, For which they have to ghost me constantly…
Torture continuing as I teach. Not as bad as it was in the West But they do too Hundreds of their pupils By Chinese Human Research of Beijing With the fifteen other nations As the Gulf apologises knowing full well the truth We will only copy the filth written by the jews Of their lives put into your name Which the students are given as a study of the normal white woman They are told I have a rare disease To cover their murder and horror inflicted on my family for two decades (I have, artistic talent and more) Along with bogus voices and films And all my work to use as their own. Ah, how the jews pay their debts to those who save them.
And the leader was invited to visit America China has fallen at last
Their Human Research in Beijing continues the filth of St Barths And I think believe it But Chinese general knowledge is of a very low standard Or maybe for money they don’t want to believe It is the opportunity of a lifetime they say, to be paid to torture the helpless It is new here, though banned in America in the seventies We watch porn by the English erotic dancer on her second film Heads supplanted, easily done and filth doctored by Sidney at the BBC Whose cousins the victims had probably given life during the war
A Chinese girl has robbed your work and will print it Two Chinese songwriters have been given copywrite of your life’s work To use as their own to cover the St Barths for their lies
Chinese design will be given copywrite your work To cover the illegal use of it from the secret St Barths computer By our Staff and friends 9.01.03…”a Chinese artist will come to copy your work now.” Old patients work they say, being tortured constantly still at this very moment even as I teach after nineteen years..
The Serb Human Research used a pupil Xu Peng, distant cousin of the Emperor Xu for which they had to give up their leader and gave the West permission to bomb a column of Kosovan refugees something they call an accident in the making Xu Peng hides in women’s skirts and sits only with women He will be visited at intervals by Human Research They watch all their ‘presents’ sex lives and all things will fall into his lap. They give gifts to the undeserving as they take all life and happiness from their victims To cover their own crimes just as Hitler did, there is no difference. It is the modern plague…
And China has fallen at last
ERIC ASK AMERICA TO TALK
Mr Morley sat outside mum’s Council flat Hand in his head, having read my pleas to him Much as I had done whilst at the UEL As the ‘boys’ of New York’s Human Research played
Tony Blaire didn’t even answer my letter And me a party member to boot State intervention even against the most helpless Is a costly affaire and cruel So you made us pay the price for your crimes
Two Stateless old refugees of unbelievable bravery Scared to death with nowhere left to go A ma alone with her kids, the family Ripped apart by a Government without care
I did hear the great Statesmen Taking sentences from the department computer Taken from years of University work Statesmen silencing those with the least power We’ve heard these sort of Statesmen before
At sixty she will begin again, yet again, yet again Now the work physically robbed from their home And don’t forget the notes and the grandchildren’s presents Appears in the country’s newspapers
The Mirror thief confides, the Mirror chief saw Lindsey’s film the Indians they use don’t and I wouldn’t want the world to know I robbed As the squeeze continues on physicalities and accounts Now we understand democracy and freedom properly
Well, Mr Eric Morley All I can tell you is this Next October when you don your red poppy For the October Revolution or the dead not just the red Laugh like the devil because I certainly shall…. 9.01.03 “you need the highest amount of compensation ever paid out in Britain.” “we have got another Morgan..”  Dud policeman.
HOW MUCH DID BRITON PAY?
How much Wonder we Not just I Did Briton pay the Spanish
What Wonder we Not just I Did Strassburg promise the Spanish
The Spanish sons of good families Pedro came and Rafael came And all the others Came to our humble abode Some even came year after year All here to learn English And how much did Briton pay the Spanish
The Spanish sons and daughters of good families Learnt of wisdom from my tongue Some even year after year Students studying at Sheffield’s Colleges How much did Briton pay the Spanish
As St Barth’s bogus research doctors watched As they slept as they wept Pedro with me as he tried to help As tears mourned my better half who had left And we learnt of the rivalry That exists twixt Barcelona and Madrid
They ate with us Watched T.V.  with us Lived with us And learnt with us As Human Research watched them How much did Briton pay the Spanish
And New York’s department watched them too Watched by the students there And all the other places watched them here How much was Spain paid to shut them up? As Meyer carried on his torture at life drawing at Psalter Lane How much did Briton pay the Spanish
Then came the school from the Ruhr Who were also watched as we taught Along with our Turkish surrogate son Twenty years old who was our first lesson of Islam Gentle and kind the department concocted unbelievable dirt Because of the present bought at Eid? And his friend the General’s son And all the Arab friends who came to our lounge To lounge Is that why they punish me now?
And also our Yemeni surrogate son Religious to the hilt gave many a debate For whom they procured a german girl And watched them at their swoon So like his mum would had to vacum his room   Though it had no spot of dirt Not allowed in our home Not even for the men of St Barths
And the boy so proud of his ancestors Who were of the original tribe of Where was it, the Canaries or some island off Spain And all our other many sons Who brought such happiness to those years…. And even our suspicious French girl from Pau Who had never before lived in a household filled with boys and boys toys
I’d had enough of sound wave voices Of death threats flashed across the screen Of comments from the T.V.  when leaving the shower Of the Spaniards being used for play Illegal aerials in the roof It was time to wind up the show And then I discovered The Spaniards were watching too…?..
Once upon a time People felt national loyalty And loyalty to young people And help to lone women with their children Not these evil men No not they Who could laugh This family which we use as toys to destroy …. And then, too late, I read the Koran And listened to other Christians To the ones who had reared me on Show the other cheek And love all regardless
But How much did Briton pay the Spanish To keep them silent… How much were the Spanish paid To shut them up…… And Muslims never dare complain And nor do we. And now they use us as Lab animals To throw sadistic ideas around on
And to play with torture… As the ward mumbled And freedom grumbled Democracy tumbled Briton must have paid them…
THE QUEEN APOLOGISES AFTER GIVING THE ROYAL PARDON FOR ALL CRIMES COMMITTED…… A student says “The Queen must be a dirty bitch To watch such things as Lindsey being made to play a part on purpose.”
Los Palmas have been told to use your Syria poem
15.15.02..THE ROYAL PATRONAGE IS NO MORE -—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—--
EAST HAM COMP.
As a teacher I did nearly train But it was really all in vain
The head was political Or had aspirations that way The school was a model So all was stifled as a problem The system had rule A reputation to block the bully in the school
the government was watching on its latest net high power screen and practicing some speeches but it’s best not said talking
as a native speaker of the Germanic tongue I listened to ‘Sprechblasse’’ From Science’s Nase.
Spent my time marking books Alone upstairs as others taught roots Till the rebel in me let lose rebelled And my old song I sang with gusto
We don’t need no education We don’t need no mind control
The other would-be teachers all shushed and pushed The inspectors would shoo and shun But having seen and heard I cared no more about their word
And by Easter had had enough Nerves getting rough and ragged on-edge And the stomach even worse Was Oppenheimer Or Heimler open? Already present Which ever Crescent I didn’t want to be Present resenting Ever again And went to Russia And was nursed well again
Though kids I still love to teach and it’s a sinch Government intervention And system preventions Are not up my street..
And lies like the Brits put out With a straight face Take some believing Even after Hitler and Stalin.
16.01.03. “continue the hair loss to its ultimate.”  (it is) Jeanette who was in the Lab. has returned to America.  Even we do not do horrors as you British do. She constantly urged, come to America, Britain is much worse. The other American girl did not pass. The Lab asks why, we pass anyone who comes who is prepared to commit crimes on order and on patients and the helpless “ U.S.A. You keep your Indians and Asians, (and Chinese now) we’ll stick to ours.”
JEWISH MEMOIRS ADAPTED TO SUIT
Mrs Miller ginger jewess Head executioner’s wife of St Barths One of the staff Of the flopping extended girth Has found an outlet For my work which she uses As her adapted jewish memoirs From the department illegal computer Every jew is suspect now
Mrs Miller ginger jewess I add the ginger for a reason Do you tell you outlet Of the fear as each day broke Of that brave family back in Bratislava old Where the Slavs live And call them all ginger jews They didn’t know if that would be the day The last day before they were shot Every jew was suspect then
Mrs Miller ginger jewess That’s no way to pay them back….. Our memories as your memoirs you are so readable That’s odd That’s exactly what they said to me And more jewesses use my life story
As you put us on the rack…… To save your bogus quacks Jews still suspect now
Some of the jews in Germany, and the Russian Germans must have felt this sense of amazement as I do and had written nightly in my private diary in bed, which the Department of Human Research St Barths, with its illegal aerial and computer techniques put onto their screen and is now ‘’sharing’’ to all and sundry to avoid being sued and to destroy all individuality, sadly worked out by a New York Jew…. and I can’t help wondering was it part of his family for whom our family faced being shot or concentration camp daily?
16.01.03.m/s “she’s a Catholic. Another Church is in it now. We sensitized the Priest of Qingdau, he has to be moved. Ann (dept. boss) has gone off her trolley It happens in our field. ” WE ARE NO MORE
On the web I read a verse On Palestine’s page And found that nothing changes
He talked of now I tell of then Of Eastern European pain But the story sounds the same
The Palestinian told in verse Of how they hoped for return Of roses and blooms And homes and roots And our rhyme was much the same
It began in my grandfather’s time Josef by name just as the holy family, and was called the Trianon Whose father had just died Over the new border just erected Drawn in by the West By the Balaton dressed Where the cherry blossoms rest In the land of heat haze and burning passion
Grandfather asked the new authorities To cross this border new a need is now A border never there before and please will you bow To his father’s graveside to lament and keen With his eighteen siblings dear unseen
And his ancient mother to kiss on the brow
The new masters now harsh and cruel Of our lands ancient and patient of old Power was given to them they found And lands not thei
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rengerain · 3 years
Text
Oops!
Background check needed before certification can go through…
Guess what I forgot to do during winter break?
Yup.
So my K-6 general education certification is pending until the background check I had done last week is cleared.
This, sadly, has cost me a couple of job opportunities…
But hey, as long as parents continue to act worse than their children in my state, I should be in a position in no time!  Seriously.  ‘I can’t stand to see my kid in my mask’ is just code for ‘I’m tired of hearing my kid whine about masks and I don’t want to wear one myself so here I am protesting my family’s right to get terminally ill.
The fact that America ever made it to become a first-world country much less a world power is still a mystery to me…
I love my country but I hate the spineless, cowardly, selfish, greedy people who run it.
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Prompt Esther having a school event. Lenny’s out of town. Joel doesn’t show but Lenny magically appears
1973
"Dad's not gonna show is he?" Esther asks. She's not sad, exactly. It's not unlike her father to skip out on her things like this in favor of something else.
Her mother bites her lip. She'd flown in from filming on the Carol Burnett show just for Esther's orchestra recital. She's first chair violin, and has a prominent solo in the piece the they're playing tonight, and Mama would not miss this for the world.
Dad is...well, he's dad. He has Xiulan, who's twelve now, at home, and the Button Club, and Mei's medical career and he's just...
Not terribly interested in his fifteen-year-old daughter.
And Lenny has been in DC for the last few weeks, though Esther's not quite sure why. Something about filming interviews with politicians about the US's involvement in Vietnam, now that troops have been shipped back home.
Her mother smiles at her gently, looks her over, turns her in a circle, and gives her a kiss on the cheek as a stamp of approval.
"You're gonna be great. Eat 'em up, pretty girl."
Esther can't help smiling and follows her fellow musicians to line up to get on stage.
*****
"Scuse me. Sorry. Comin' through."
Midge frowns at the familiar voice coming down the aisle and her eyes widen as Lenny drops into the empty seat next to her.
"What I miss?" he asks.
She gives a quiet laugh. "Lenny, what are you doing here?"
He shrugs. "It was either hop a train back here for this or another terrible dinner with a bunch of dry, cut-throat politicians."
"Esther is gonna hit the roof," Midge whispers. "She was really crushed Joel didn't make it."
"Someone should remind him he has two daughters," Lenny grumbles.
"Ssshh," Midge chides as the kids on stage start playing.
****
Esther steps into the little school lobby with her packed up violin and looks around for her mother. She'd knocked the solo out of the park, and was feeling quite proud. She couldn't wait to see her Mama.
"There she is!"
Esther lights up at the sound of Lenny's voice and when she turns around, both he and her mother are walking toward her.
"My little superstar," Mama beams, hugging her tightly.
"Nice stuff, kiddo," Lenny says, and Esther dives in for a hug when her mother pulls away. "Oof! Whoa, I guess you missed me."
Esther just smiles up at him. "You really think it was good?"
"Do I think it was good, it was great!" he tells her, squeezing her shoulders. "So great, I think we've all earned some milkshakes."
"He's just hungry," Mama teases. "He got on a train up here instead of eating dinner."
"Guilty as charged," Lenny admits, before nudging Esther. "Get your stuff, let's go."
She smiles and dashes off for her coat.
"You made that little girl's night tonight," she hears her mother say behind her.
"Definitely a better use of my time than arguing with Republicans and getting nowhere," Lenny tells her. "God, I really am hungry."
Mama laughs and Esther smiles.
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aynanasstuff · 2 years
Text
Memory II// Sam Wilson x Desi!Reader Headcanons
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Summary: things you remember about your lover (your pov)
part 1 (sam's pov) masterlist
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You remember his smiles. You know that his happiest smile is the one without teeth, that his excited one is all white with the cute gap. That he doesn't quite smile but smirks when he's sad and wants to reassure you. He smiles and raises an eye brow when he's proud of the ones he loves.
You remember his shoulders. You know that wrapping your arms around them will inevitably lead to a dance and that they're the perfect leverage for when you kiss his forehead on your tippy toes. You know that when you wind a single arm around his shoulders from behind he'll hold your arm and bring it down for a kiss. You know that he loves giving the kids piggy back rides and that he loves when you massage the soreness away from where his shield straps rest for hours at a time.
You remember the things you do that turn him on. It's when you wear his clothes and he doesn't care how you look in them, whether they hug your tummy or fall off your shoulders. He loves when you rap along to dirty lyrics like it's a nursery rhyme. He loves when you ask him to button or tie your blouse or pin up the pallu to your shoulder. He loves the way you look when you've just woken up.
You remember his eyes. That they widen the same when he's excited and when he sees you all dressed up (they may be connected). You remember how they narrow when he's angry, but especially when he's disappointed in the world he's committed to protect. You know that they shut tight but they still let his tears fall. You remember how devilish they look when he feasting on you, when he's thrusting up into you. You remember how soft they get when he sees you with the kids.
You remember his cooking. You know that when you've fought with each other, he'll be the one cooking for the both of you. That he'll pour his whole apology into it because even though your favorite dish doesn't take too long or too much effort to make, it makes you really happy. You know that he'll add extra milk to your chai because that's how your grandma used to make it. You know he learns how to cook recipes from your family so you can have a piece of home with you no matter where you are.
You know his nods. He'll nod quickly once from across the room if a bootlicking politician tries to get him to endorse them, an sos of sorts. He'll nod twice, slowly, with a impressed gaze when he sees you in his favorite dress. A curt nod to tell you he needs space, if you ask him if he's okay. A side to side no before he breaks down and buries himself in you, curving and moulding till he's a part of you and the universe doesn't exist anymore.
You know him. You remember all he's loved and lost. He's the best parts of you and you, of him. That's enough to have achieved in a lifetime, you think.
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A/n: Part 2 from your pov, I hope you liked it! Please reblog, comment and like-keeps me going. Love y'all!
Tags: @lil-stark @janetsnakehole02 @blueberrynonnie @nelleana @sunflirt @chrisfucksblog @fluffyprettykitty @fluffycutecevans @fantqsha @commonintrest @turbolisedcomet @withyoutilltheendoftheline <33
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spookiekewchie · 3 years
Text
caffeine kisses ☕️
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Characters: Sam Wilson x woc!reader
Summary: The one where you meet Captain America in a coffee shop
Word Count: 1k+
Warnings: it’s fluff, language, me finding a way to work in Sam being called Daddy (but it’s cute though and not in a kinky way), talk of the reader being pregnant
A/N: So this is my submission for  @syntheticavenger​​‘s How it Started/How it’s Going Challenge. I love the prompt I got, and I hope you enjoy it. 
DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.
☕️ ☕️
Sam Wilson // paying it forward with a coffee
☕️How it started…
“Shit—sorry, I think I left my wallet at home.” The man muttered at the counter, sighing heavily as he pulled his phone out to seemingly text someone, and stepped out of line. You watched him go as you stepped up to the counter, he looked stressed. Like he’d had a long night, and was about to have an even longer day. It likely wasn’t your business but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something familiar about him. 
“Put his coffee on my card.” You said, catching his eye before he made it out the door. He looked as if he were about to protest, but you simply turned back to the young man behind the register and rattled off your order. 
“You didn’t have to do that.” The man said when you moved out of the line to wait for your name to be called. “Thank you.” He added, shoving his hands into his pockets as he regarded your features carefully. You simply nodded, eyes narrowed slightly when you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had seen him before. It wasn’t until he offered up a smile that it clicked in your mind and your eyes went a little wide. You’d seen him on your television just last week publicly shaming a group of politicians after the whole Flagsmashers fiasco. It was just your luck that you’d run into the new Captain America while you were dressed down in your workout clothes and he was apparently trying to be incognito. 
“Just pay it forward the next time you get coffee.” You shrugged it off, debating whether or not you should say something more. What could it hurt? You think before opening your mouth again to speak. “Besides, it’s not every day a girl gets to save Captain America.” You whispered just low enough for him to hear. He laughed loud enough to draw a few stares, sobering up just a little when he noticed the stares. “The baseball hat and sunglasses combo was a good try through.” 
He laughed again, quieter this time with a little chuckle that made his shoulders shake. “What gave me away?” He questioned, and suddenly you felt your face heating up at the thought of telling him how you’d recognized him. You heard your name being called as your drink and his were set on the counter. Taking a step towards it he followed, looking at you expectantly as he waited for your answer almost as if he were hoping you’d keep talking to him. 
“It was your smile. I recognized it.” You admitted, making it a point to focus your attention on the steaming cup of coffee in your hands. Not looking at him meant missing the soft smile that your answer had drawn onto his lips. 
“I’m glad you did.” 
☕️How it’s going…
The bed was empty when you woke up, something that made you pout until the smell of coffee wafted into the room. You sighed, sitting up in bed and looking to the window where a bright stream of sunlight was shining into the room. The ring on your finger glittered in it, and you felt what you hoped was an excited swoop in your belly at remembering the night before and how Sam had proposed in the middle of dinner with his family. 
You remembered Sarah hugging you so tight that you thought you might pop. You remembered Sam teasing Bucky about being next when he caught the super soldier staring longingly at Sarah while she gushed over the ring. Both of you shot Sam a look that clearly told him to mind his business, and let Sarah and Bucky take things at their own pace. Then there were the two boys who had already taken to calling you their Aunt months before the engagement. 
It had been Cass, the younger of the two, that had blurted out that he couldn’t wait to have a new cousin. 
You pressed a hand to your stomach at the memory, little did Cass know that you were already pregnant and had yet to tell Sam. You’d been nervous at first, despite knowing that you and he had already talked about what you’d like your shared future to be. But you hadn’t planned for it to happen so soon, but a few days of missed birth control pills had been all that it took for your plans to change drastically. 
You sighed at the thought, pushing yourself out of bed to brush your teeth and grab a quick shower. By the time you came back into your shared bedroom Sam was back, and from what you could tell he’d brought coffee with him. 
“What’s this?” You questioned with a fond smile, padding your way over to him and pressing a kiss to his lips. Carefully he pulled you into the bed beside him, that warm smile of his that you loved so much fixed firmly in place. 
“I figured I’d surprise you with your favorite drink.” He replied playfully, stealing another kiss from your lips as he pressed a cup of coffee into your hands before grabbing the other for himself. You took a sip, watching him with a dopey little smile on your lips as you made the decision to tell Sam the good news. Setting your cup of coffee on the nightstand before straddling the man’s lap. “What’s that look for?” He questioned, lifting his cup to his lips to take a long drink from it before he set it aside next to yours. Big warm hands settled against your ass, squeezing lightly as you just chuckled and let your own fall against Sam’s broad chest.  
You took a breath, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment as you tried to think of the best way to put it into words. “So you know how we talked about kids one day?” You began, and Sam nodded silently. “One day came a little faster than expected.” Again he said nothing, but you could see the cogs of his mind turning as you processed what you were trying to tell him. When it finally clicked the grin on his lips was instant as he surged forward to kiss you happily. You leaned into him, the taste of coffee still on his lips. 
“You serious?” He questioned, pulling back to look up at you in wonder.
You nodded, his happiness making any worry that you might have had evaporate in an instant. “You’re gonna be a daddy.” 
That only seemed to add to his joy, and before you knew it Sam had you pressed into the sheets of your shared bed as his kisses peppered your body. “How far along are you?” He questioned, lips brushing against your stomach. 
“Just a couple weeks.” You wiggled against the bed, a laugh bubbling out of you as his lips tickled against your skin. “Are you happy?” 
Sam sighed, the sound content and utterly pleased with both himself and you. 
“First you say yes to marrying me, now you tell me we’re having a kid? Darlin’ I’m so fucking happy.” 
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naranciasimp · 3 years
Note
If you start doing La Squadra, I'd love to request a platonic (with some flirty undertones tho) scenario of Melone and Reader on a mission together
Teamwork Makes The Dream Work
AN: I’m sorry if I got anything wrong when it came to Melone’s Stand. To be honest it kind of confuses me.
TW: mentions of drugs, alcohol, sex, smoking and pedophilia (none of the above are done by Melone or the Reader)
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“Melone, are you sure we should be doing this here?”
“I’m positive! This is the perfect place to find a mother! Just stay by me and you’ll be fine.” Melone had a cocky smirk on his face as he walked slightly in front of you, his computer tucked under his arm.
You sighed and opened the door. This had to be the worst bar you had ever seen. It wasn’t like the fancy places you and Prosciutto would go to, this place was notorious for drugs, alcohol, sex, and many other unmentionable things. Not many people knew about it due to it being located in a dirty alley way but there was still somehow a bunch of people partying.
Once you entered the place you were quickly overwhelmed by the loud music. Melone grabbed your hand and smiled. “Let’s go!” You weren’t surprised that Melone knew this creepy place like the back of his hand but rather worried for him.
He dragged you to the back of the bar and sat you at a small table. He took a seat next to you and opened up his computer. Melone began quickly typing and getting everything set up. “Y/N, remind me what this guy looks like again.”
You quickly grabbed the mission file out of your backpack. “He’s a corrupt politician and a pedophile. Here’s his picture.”
You handed the image over to Melone. He looked at it disgustingly and gave it back to you. “I hate scum bags like him.”
“I know, it’ll be fun to kill this one.” You put the mission report back in the bag and grabbed the targets DNA sample. Melone plugged it into his computer and turned to you. “So, who should be our mother?”
Your eyes served the place. You know from the countless times of helping Melone that the woman needs to be a mess, but not so much of a mess that she would make BabyFace uncontrollable. “What about that one? Pink dress with a cigarette?”
“Di molto! Good job Y/N. Now go steal her things and get her DNA.”
You groaned and summoned your Stand. It quickly stole her wallet and pulled a piece of lose hair out of her head. Your Stand put it all on the table then went away.
Melone thanked you and began his work. “Their Zodiac Signs are horrible together! Blood type is AB Positive while the mans is AB Negative…. She looks to be in good enough health. From the looks of it she smokes and is an alcoholic which is lovely!”
Once he combined the DNA he sat back in his chair and waited. This part took a bit of time. Melone leaned his head on your shoulder. “You never told me what your favorite position is in the Indian Karma Sutra,” he pouted.
“Melone how many times do I have to tell you I am not answering your weird questions!?”
“Y/N it’s important,” he whined. “How will you have babies without kissing in different sex positions?”
You shook your head. “No babies.”
He gasped and sat up. “What!? No babies? But I wanted at least 5 kids!”
“Who said I was having your babies Melone,” you playfully yelled at him.
He looked up at the ceiling and thought for a moment. He looked back at you with a cheeky smile. “Oops my bad, I think that was just a dream.”
Right as you were about to knock some sense into him BabyFace grew legs and stood up on the table. Thankfully everyone was too drunk to notice it. Melone jumped out of his seat and began watching the process while typing some extra things into the computer. The baby part of it finally was “born” and it appeared on the mother’s head.
Melone picked up your backpack for you and grabbed his computer too. He quickly walked outside with both of them in his hands. “Come on Y/N! I want to nurture this beautiful child and use it to its fullest potential!”
Around this time he always began to sound way too much like a mad scientist but you ran after him nonetheless.
When you found him he was sitting down in the middle of another nearby alleyway and flipping through the pages of the book you had brought for him. You walked behind him to check on what BabyFace was saying.
“Mommy asked for more booze. What is booze?”
“Do not worry about that BabyFace, what is more important is what I’m about to teach you so listen closely.”
Melone quickly taught the Stand how to kill and who to kill. This part Melone had to do by himself because two mommies and one daddy or two daddies and one mommy would confuse the child.
You laid on the cold concrete and listened to Melone exclaim about how good of a BabyFace he had. “Y/N the mission is almost done! After this we need to report back to Risotto and let him know that we are safe. Would you like to go out somewhere once we finish?”
You smiled. “Totally! That would be really fun.”
He grinned at you and then went back to work. BabyFace was behaving very well but it still needed guidance. Fifteen minutes passed and then you heard the famous “Di molto” leave Melone’s mouth.
“You did it! Magnificent job BabyFace! Daddy is so proud of you!”
You stood up and gave him a high five. After celebrating your kill Melone picked up his laptop and put the book back in your backpack. While he did that you called Risotto and told him you were both safe. When you returned back to Melone he gave you a hug “Now, time to have some real fun my beloved Y/N!” He pulled a helmet on your head and hopped onto his motorcycle. You followed suit and you two drove off into the night.
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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years
Note
48 from touch prompt list and 75 from prompt list 5 🥺🥺🥺 im so proud of you love such an amazing achievement i love you
-efirstly i love you thank you so much 🥺 secondly the PERFECT two prompts together you have a galaxy brain and i can truly not thank you enough for this!!
Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: Some mentions of alcohol consumption & brief olden-time being married young talk.
Prompts: #48 - Dancing with each other & #75 Talking in an Elizabethan style to woo somebody
A/N: I listened to the ‘So Close’ song from the Enchanted soundtrack the entire time I was writing this so...put that on if you want!
A reminder I’m taking prompts for my 1k celebration until May 21st! :)
If Penelope Garcia loved two things in this world - Derek and science fiction aside - it was costumes and parties. So it made sense that for her birthday, she’d decreed she’d be throwing an Elizabethan-style ball. And that everybody had to dress up accordingly. Derek, always eager to put a smile on her face, had offered to throw it at one of his houses.
So it was there that you were headed, on this glorious Saturday night. In a not-so-glorious and infact, quite heavy, Elizabethan era gown. It was a good job you’d elected to take an Uber, because quite frankly the dress weighed a ton. It would have been impossible to drive in.
Good job they didn’t have cars back in the Elizabethan era.
Not that women would have been allowed to drive them anyway.
You’re only a little late when you arrive. Fashionably late, you’d go so far as to say.
“____!” Penelope greets with a squeal, rushing out to embrace you into a hug. You don’t even make it all the way through the door before she’s on you with a flurry.
If you thought your dress was a lot, you have to hand it to the birthday girl. She could never be upstaged. How her gown actually fit inside the house was a mystery, it was huge - puffy with a corset that cinched her in tightly at the waist. Her hair was coiffed into perfect curls. She looked stunning; like she’d stepped right out of a painting.
“You look amazing!” You tell her, squeezing her tightly.
“So do you! I’m so glad you took the theme seriously!”
“I take all themes seriously when it’s you threatening me about them.”
She laughs. “Well Derek did too. And Spencer, the others...” She frowns, “Well, I’d like to say they tried, but Rossi definitely didn’t. He did, however, pay for a gazebo and a live band so I’m willing to let it slide.”
You smile, allowing her to take you inside. She babbles some more on her way in about all the decorations, food, and how next time she’s going to make everybody send her pictures of their outfits beforehand.
She’s right about the gazebo though - it’s beautiful. It has elegant fairylights adorning it, illuminating the place in a candescent glow. The live band is an instrumental one - there’s even a fiddle.
Where the hell did Dave find a fiddle?
He’s rich.
That has to be the satisfactory answer for now. There are far more pressing matters at hand: like everybody’s costumes.
Horch is wearing some fancy suit, Emily has one that’s similar, Rossi clearly is just dressed in his normal attire. J.J appears to have picked one up from a fancy dress shop, but if anyone could make that look good, it’s her. Derek looks an absolute dream - clearly dressed by Penelope. It’s Spencer though, unsurprisingly, who has gone all out. He has a miniature version of one of those puffy collars on, his suit a gorgeous maroon colour. He even has white tights on, with the boots that matched. If there were prizes for best costume - which knowing Penelope, there might well be - she’d be up against some fierce competition.
“Spence!” You chime, opening your arms to greet him, “I love your costume!”
“I love yours too!” He beams, hugging you tightly, “The skirt of your dress is very fitting to the period.”
“Thank you!” You say, reluctantly letting go of him to greet everybody else in turn.
It’s hard to keep your eyes off him though, and everybody knows it. You and Spencer had been dancing around each other for months, the epitome of the will-they-won’t-they, and you can’t help but hope that tonight you might finally cross that threshold.
It’s Penelope’s birthday.
Who are you kidding? Penelope would be ecstatic to claim credit.
***
You’re giddy, not just with the glass of wine in your system. With happiness, the exuberant kind that comes from watching all your friends exist among one another. It doesn’t hurt that Spencer barely leaves your side the entire night. He’s a veritable treasure trove of Elizabethan era facts. You’ve learnt more than any history class could possibly teach you.
A slow song comes on, which is when you decide to seize your opportunity.
Now or never.
You bump your shoulder against his. When you have his attention, you nod towards the dance floor, “Come and dance with me.”
He furrows his brows, clearly weighing up his options in his head.
You affect an Elizabethan lilt, “Thou art going to leave me alone at the ball, fair Lord Reid?”
“I could hardly dream of it,” He says, imitating you, “Would thou care to dance with me?”
He offers out his hand. You take it, noting how he gets the barest blush on his cheeks.
“Thou had me practically petrified, I thought you may never ask,” You tease, accepting his hand, squeezing it once for reassurance.
He laughs, nose crinkling. He rests his hand on your hip hesitantly, only solidifying his grip when you rest yours on his bicep. His other comes to rest on the other side, just above where your dress puffs out. The song playing sounds vaguely familiar, although it’s harder to place with it being an instrumental version.
You lean into him, side-stepping in time with him. He’s not a dancer by nature, that much is clear, but he is surprisingly good at leading.
It’s easy to let him guide you around the dance floor. You stutter a bit, almost tripping. His grip on your hip tightens.
“Be careful fair maiden,” He reprimands teasingly, “Thou wouldn’t want to fall.”
“Thou wouldn’t want to be seen with a maiden who has made a royal fool of herself.”
He shakes his head, “I could hardly bare it.”
“I do not know how you can bare to be seen with me regardless. I’m practically a haggard spinster,” You say, with a dramatic sigh.
He twirls you around, voice slipping back into his normal tone, “Actually it was mainly women from wealthy families who would marry young, from age 12. With poorer or middle class families it was most common for women to be in their mid-twenties by the time they got married, the average age was about 24.”
“Still younger than me,” You retort, stepping in time with him. You’re pressed up against his chest now.
His breath fans over your cheek, from the way he’s bent, from the way you’re leaning in to him. His big hand spans over your back, holding you close to him as he steps to the right.
“Well,” He says, affecting the English accent, “Thou art a lady of the highest stature. A commoner could not possibly hope to marry one such as yourself.”
You giggle, “Oh fair Lord Reid. Whenst will I possibly find a husband?”
With surprising ease, he dips you, allowing you to fall gracefully into his arms. He’s study, supportive. Before you know it, you’re back on your feet.
“Thou might be looking in the wrong places.”
“Pray tell, wherest would one suggest a lady like me ought to look?”
“Perhaps closer to ones home,” He says, English accent - if you could call it that - slipping a little, favouring sincerity.
“How much closer?”
His hands return to your waist, and yours to his chest. There’s only an inch between your bodies. He looks down at you with sincerity brimming in his eyes, “Perhaps a little closer.”
Your hand trails up to his chin. It dips at the mere weight of your thumb resting on it, “Gallant Lord Reid, perhaps this close?”
“Perhaps,” He swallows, voice morphing into the accent again, as if he’s afraid to be vulnerable, “Thou art a maiden, thou art to be courted before marriage.”
“And where would one court a fair maiden like me?”
“Where would the fair maiden like to go?”
“Wherever, as long as you’re the one taking her.”
He swallows. His eyes scan your face, watching how you deliberately look to his plump lips. He hesitates for only a moment longer, before leaning in and planting the most delicate kiss upon them.
If it wasn’t for the elated drunken giggles of everyone else around you, you’d have been lost in the bubble of a moment forever. It’s okay though, because at your wedding, Penelope is sure to tell the tale of the Elizabethan ball where you - the fair maiden - finally got together with your perfect Lord. You have to admit, it’s a good one.
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emf005 · 3 years
Text
Disguised Part 1
Jack x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, blood, fights, angst
Hop you guys like! Sorry it took so long to get this out I have had one heck of a week.. lolol.. Please comment and let me know what you think!
Ten Years Earlier:
There were flames everywhere. As a seven year old you had no clue what was happening. It was hot, but it was winter. You couldn’t breathe. Your eyes burned and so did your lungs.
Your skin was alive with pain and stinging. You felt painfully numb. Was that even a feeling?
You coughed. And then coughed again, harder.
The room swam and you tripped over something, hitting the floor with full force. You stared at the door you had been searching for. There it was, finally. But out of reach. Why did it seem everything was always out of reach for you? Just too small to reach the top shelf, just too young to sit with the grown ups, just too female to do anything of importance…
Tears leaked from your eyes, and not just from physical pain.
The door opened and more smoke fled in. You heard footsteps running in and, with the last bit of energy you pushed yourself up. You saw the blurry edges of a familiar neighbor.
Charlie?
Then you passed out.
Xx
You woke up in a cot a few days later. Looking around the small room you realized that you were alone.
Where were you?
You heard voices and then footsteps. You shut your eyes tight again just as the door opened.
Someone sat down on your bed.
“I’s knows yous ain’t sleepin’.” Your eyes flew open and you looked up at Charles. A crutch leaned on the cot, but you didn’t pay mind. You jumped onto him, ignoring the pulling of your healing burns. You buried your head in his neck. He grabbed onto you and held you close, just as frightened as you, though he’d tell you he wasn’t. He was three years older than you and the brother you never had.
"What happened? Where am I? Where's mum and dad?" You asked. The questions pouring out of you. The last you saw them, they had been unconscious in the living room.
Instead of answering he just hugged you to his chest tighter…
Present day:
"Strike!" The Newsies, your unofficial brothers, screamed in response to Jack's very lengthy and moving monologue.
He leapt off the stage and started talking to Charles… Well, Crutchie now. He hadn't gone by that name since the fire happened and you two became newsies.
Nobody knew you were a girl and you preferred to keep it that way… although, A bit of extra attention from a certain Jack Kelly wouldn't be so bad. But beggars can't be choosers.
You watched as Katherin Plummer walked up to him and you felt your stomach drop. Rich, pretty, and successful. How could you beat that? Especially when he didn’t know you were a girl and he didn’t know your feelings.You sighed and walked to meet up with them, tasseling Race’s hair as you walked by him. He shoved you and you laughed.
“Hey!” You leaned on Crutchie’s shoulder as you joined the group. “Beautiful speech, Jacky-boy,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’s think you’s gotta future as a politician.”
“Oh hardy hardy har, Scabs.”
Scabs.
Your name.
It was pretty appropriate for a few reasons. When you and Crutchie first joined you had healing burn marks and cuts all over your body. All of them scabbing. You also always had some sort of cut on you. That you were picking at, hence all your scars. Being a newsie, especially one with a big secret, caused a lot of anxiety, you couldn’t help it.
You smirked at him and shook your head.
“So, wheres we go from here?”
“That's a question for Davey.”
“Well, where is-” before you could get your statement out, chaos broke out. You turned around to see the Delancies break into the theatre with cops on their heels. You swore, and Jack pulled Katherine to get her out of the way. She willingly applied.
Delicate little-
You didn’t get to finish your thought before you had started shoving the cops and Delancies, entering the brawl with full force.
You watched as all the boys started to get their asses kicked and then get out of the theatre. You and Jack somehow ended up side by side, fighting the delancies as the cops chased after the others. But then you saw him.
Snider the Spider stared Jack down, an evil grin on his face.
Not on your watch.
“Jack, get outta here!” You screamed. Jack looked at you.
“No!”
“Jack! Just do it!”
“But-”
“GO!” He was so startled that he dodged his last punch and ran up into the catwalk of Medda’s place. You fought off the Delancies and ran. Turning around only when you herald CRutchie scream for mercy.
You turn and see the delancies and Spider standing over him.
“Crutch!” You scream and run back over even faster than you had running away, barreling over sand bags and loose wires.
The Delancies and Snider watched you and left CRutchie alone coming after you instead. You watched as Crutchie crawled away.
Morris came at you with a swing. You easily dodged it and threw him into his brother who stumbled back into Snider. You laughed and turned, about to make your get away. Instead you ran straight into an officer who threw you back onto the floor. Morris and Oscar attacked, like hungry piranhas, though they at least were prettier and smelled better.
You felt pain erupt all over you until it was gone and you felt nothing, saw nothing, and for a few hours were nothing…
Xx
Jack stumbled back into the Manhattan Newsies’ terf. The boys were all hanging around, checking on each other after the brawl.
He couldn’t believe they got Crutchie.
“Damn Crip,” he mumbled, shaking his head, not knowing what to do next.
“Jack!” he looked up when Race called his name. He came running up to him. “Jack, where Scab?”
“Scab?” Jack’s eyes widened. No. They couldn’t have gotten you, too. You-you had run. He saw you.
He heard the familiar Thunk Thunk of a crutch. He looked up and saw Crutchie a bit battered, but alive and here.
“Crutchie!?” The crippled boy swallowed, tears in his eyes.
“They-they got ‘er, Jack.” he rasped out. “Jack-they they got ‘er.”
He collapsed, his crutch falling out from under him. Jack caught him and Race left, letting them talk alone.
“Who’s her, Crutchie? WHo’s got her? How did you escape?” Crutchie swallowed.
“Y/N, they got, Y/N.”
“Who has her,” Jack said, a bit confused not knowing Crutchie had himself a girl.
“Snider!” He exploded, hitting Jack’s chest. “They got ‘er, Jack! They got ‘er.” He sobbed, his voice breaking.
“Ok, ok. How did he get your girl, Crutchie. Just calm down and explain it.” Crutchie stared at him for a second not understanding why he was acting like he was until he realized he used your real name.
Crutchie settled himself and took a breath.
“Jack, Y/N is Scab.” Jack stared at his friend for a moment.
“What?’ Crutches sighed and lowered himself to the ground.
“I think you need to have a seat, Jack.
Xx
You had woken up in the refuge, staring at the ceiling, a thin stream of moonlight streamed through the small barred slit in the wall that was considered a “window”. You were almost as wanted as Jack was. Only the best accommodations for the Enemy number 2, right?
You sighed and shivered as the wind blew in and froze your toes, the scratchy, old, thin blanket doing nothing to protect you.
“Y/N!” You look up to see Crutchie at the slit in the wall. You eyes widen and you spring up, running to him.
“Crutch! What are you doin’ here. Are you dumb or something?”
“I needed to make sure you were ok, kid.” You sighed. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” you put your head on the bars. “How are the boys? Everyone makes it out alright?”
“Yeah, but I have someone who wants ta see ya.”
He stepped out of the way and revealed Jack. You stared at him and knew immediately that he knew. That Crutchie had told him. You had never wanted to kill the boy who was like your brother more in your life.
“Hey, Scab, how ya doin’?”
“You told him,” you glared at Crutchie and he looked away, not being able to meet your eyes. “The hell, Crutch!” You shouted as loud as you dared. Snider was listening… always was… and you didn’t want to get the boys caught.
“Scab-er-Y/N, are you ok?” Jack asked, concern filling his expression. You looked at him, grateful for the street lights that hid your face, yet illuminated his.
“I’m fine, Jack. Did anyone else get caught?”
They shook their heads and you sighed.
“Good.” You heard footsteps coming down the hall. You looked over your shoulder and swallowed. They heard you. They had to of.”You guys should get going.”
“But-”
“Do yous wanna get caught?” he swallowed and shook his head.
“We’ll get you outta here.”
“No, Jacky-boy, I don’t think you will. Do the strike and do it good. Win.” He opened his mouth to object, but you looked at Crutchie. “Get ‘im and yourself outta here before yous get caught.” He looked down and tugged Jack’s sleeve, pulling him away from you. As they made their way down the fire escapes he caught a glimpse of you in the light and his eyes widened with horror as he took in your face. Bloodied, bruised, and puffy. They had got you good… and that was not going to fly...
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imagineyourworld · 3 years
Text
Misunderstanding
Echo x Genderneutral!Reader
Summary: After the war Echo runs into you and Rex, who he mistakes for your husband and the father of your children 
Warnings: Mention of death and war
Check out more of my work here
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The moment Echo saw you a thousand memories came rushing back: Your soft hands on his cheek. Your lips on his lips. Your lips on his skin. How your skin tasted under his lips. Your careless laughter as he carried you home after one too many drinks. That time you showed him how to brew the perfect cup of calming tea. The way you said his name and how your voice sounded when you told him you loved him. The happy smile when the two of you reunited after his supposed death. And the sad smile when you told him that you couldn’t go with him.  That had been almost three years ago now. At first both of you had made an effort to talk every day, then, as the war got busier, every other day until it was every week, once a month and then, a little more than two years ago, the two of you had said your last goodbyes.  But now here you were, looking not a day older, and even more beautiful, than the last time Echo had seen you.  He took a moment to just look at you. Your hair was a bit shorter, maybe a shade of two darker as well, and your style had changed. During your relationship he had mostly seen you in your scrubs at work or sweats at home, now you looked more comfortable in your clothes, more like yourself.  Too late, only after he had already called your name and you had turned around, did Echo notice that you were holding the hand of a little girl. Her curious eyes looked him up and down before turning to you. She said something Echo couldn’t hear, but he did see the smile that lit up your face as you walked closer, pulling the girl along with you.  “Echo, I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?”, you asked.  You still said his name the same way, your smile was the same and your eyes lit up like they always did when you looked at him, but all Echo could focus on was the little girl, who was staring at him. Was she yours? The daughter you had with someone else? Someone who had replaced Echo in your heart? He should have known this would happen, it had to eventually, but that didn’t help the pain, not when Echo himself had thought of you ever day for the past three years, when he never stopped loving you.  “I... I decided that it might be time for me to settle, and since most of my brothers have made their lives here on Coruscant I thought I would do the same.”  Echo didn’t add that there had also been the small hope that you might still be living on Coruscant.  “So you’re gonna stay here? That’s amazing, we’ll have to catch up some time soon”, you said, the smile on your face growing with every word. Echo just nodded. What else was he supposed to say? Luckily he didn’t have to say anything else, because the girl took the opportunity to insert herself into the conversation.  “Who are you?”, she asked, her expression both curious and vary.  You looked down at her with a stern expression but fondness in your eyes.  “Leia, you could’ve asked a bit more nicely. But this is Echo”, you told her. Your eyes went away from the girl to focus on Echo. “He’s... and old... friend.”  Yes, the words stung, but Echo understood that it was probably the best way to introduce your daughter to your ex boyfriend.  “And Echo, this is Leia, sh-”, you started, but were soon interrupted by a small voice calling out the girl’s name.  Another child, a boy, appeared, with a big smile on his face and a paper bag in his hand.  “Guess what I have!”, he said with a grin, holding the bag out for the girl to peek into.  Echo was now looking at the boy. He didn’t seem to be older or younger than the girl, so maybe he wasn’t another child of yours but Leia’s friend. Though they did look somewhat alike.  “Luke, you can’t run off like that”, a familiar voice called from behind Echo.  He refused to turn around, as long as he didn’t see who was coming up behind him, who clearly belonged to you and the children, a childish part of himself told him that it wouldn’t be true. But your words confirmed his fear.  “Rex, it’s fine”, you laughed. “Luke’s safe, he was only ahead of you by like a meter.”  Echo now looked at his brother. He looked a bit older than the last time he saw him, probably due to their rapid aging, but other than that he didn’t seem to have changed at all, still caring and commanding and loving. Echo closed his eyes for a moment, he couldn’t bear to look at you and Rex and your children, because from the way the four of you interacted he could tell that you belonged together.  Of course he had known that you would move on, though a small irrational part of him had hoped that you might wait for him to come back to you someday. But why did you have to move on with his brother? And not just any brother, one he had always been close to. And how could Rex do this, he knew more than anyone, other than Fives at least, how much Echo had always loved you.  Of course Echo knew that he should be happy for you, and part of him was, but seeing you and your family, seeing your happy smiles and the love in your eyes, just killed him.  “Echo, vod, it’s so good to see you. How have you been?”, Rex asked as he put a hand on Echo’s shoulder and squeezed affectionately.  Before Echo could answer you interrupted him with an apologetic smile. “Rex, we have to meet Padmé in 10 minutes, we better hurry. But Echo, how about you come by our apartment around 7 this evening and we’ll catch up?” 
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Echo had debated whether to actually go and see you, but in the end he decided that he might regret it more if he backed out. Plus Hunter had basically pushed him out the door and left him no other choice.  So here he was, in front of your apartment, which was only a couple of blocks away from the one you had lived in during the war.  His fist had barely touched the door when you already pulled it open and ushered Echo inside.  For a moment the two of you just stood in the hallway, looking at each other and not saying anything.  “Rex just went to buy a bottle of wine, he should be back shortly”, you said as you lead Echo further into the apartment.  He soon found himself in a larger room, which served as both living room and dining room, with the kitchen attached and only separated by a kitchen island. As he looked around he recognized most of the furniture from your old apartment, the one he had spent countless hours in, as well as photographs both old and new with many familiar faces in them. A couple were just you and Rex, but most of them had General Skywalker, Commander Tano, General Kenobi or Senator Amidala in them, along with many of his brothers. He also spotted his favourite picture, the one had had carried a copy of wherever he went, of him kissing your cheek while Fives enveloped the two of you in a hug. He was surprised to see it hanging in your living room. But what surprised him even more was how clean everything was. You had always been a tidy person, but he had suspected that children would still leave the place a bit messy. Speaking of...  “Are Luke and Leia going to join us?”, he asked.  A surprised look crossed your face before you shook your head.  “They’re with Padmé and Anakin.”  Echo nodded. Maybe it was for the best not to have the children around, the dinner would be awkward and they might only make it worse.  “How nice of the General and Senator Amidala to babysit.”  You stopped pouring water in your glass and looked at Echo in surprise.  “They’re not babysitting, the twins are their kids. Rex and I were the ones who were babysitting this morning.”  It was safe to say that Echo had not been expecting this revelation. He had been so sure that you and Rex were the parents. But his little moment of relief was cut short when he realized that this didn’t change anything. You and Rex were still a couple, you still lived together and had a life together, a life Echo had no place in.  “Are you planning on having kids then?” The question was out before Echo could stop himself. This was none of his business, it might even be better if he didn’t know. But he just had to know, having children was the one thing about your future the two of you had never talked about, had never dared to even think about in the middle of a war, but that hadn’t stopped Echo from hoping to one day raise a family with you, and he had to know if his brother was now living that unspoken dream.  “I’m not opposed to the idea, but who would I have a child with? I’m not really fond of the idea of doing this on my own”, you admitted with a nervous laugh.  Echo tore his eyes away from the plate he had been fixating on to look at you. Try as he might, he couldn’t read your expression.  “With Rex, of course. He’s your”, he started before stopping for a moment to scan your fingers for a ring, when he didn’t find one he continued. “Boyfriend. Rex is your boyfriend.”  Saying the words out loud hurt, more than Echo would ever want to admit, but it was your laughter that actually broke his hear, and your words that mended it again.  “Rex is not my boyfriend, he’s my friend. Probably my best friend and maybe more like a brother, but most certainly not my boyfriend.”  After everything he had been through there wasn’t much that could render Echo speechless, but this confession could. It took him a moment, and a thorough scan of your serious expression, for him to formulate his next sentence.  “But the two of you live together”, he finally said.  For a moment you didn’t say anything. Then you took his hand, your skin still as soft and warm as he remembered, and led him over to your couch. Softly you pulled on his arm to get him to sit next to you, closer than he would have sat while still thinking that you were in love with his brother, but not as close as he really wanted.  “Rex and I are friends, nothing more. We live together because no matter how much some politicians try, clones still have little rights and it was easier for him to move in with me than to get his own place. But Echo, I never, ever, though about Rex in any romantic way, nor he about me. I... There has only ever been one person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, one person I wanted to marry and have children with and grown old with, and that person is you. Echo, it’s always been you and it always will be. I loved you ever since you carried Fives into the medbay with his broken leg and I never stopped, not when I though you were dead, not when you went away with the Bad Batch. And seeing you again only showed me how much I missed you, how much I don’t want to let you go again. But of course I understand that you’ve probably moved on.”  There were a million things Echo might have said, but for now he decided to forgo any explanations. Instead he put one of his hands on your waist and the other behind your head. Slowly he leaned closer, giving you every chance to pull way, but instead you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his in a gentle kiss.  “I love you. Always have, always will”, he whispered against your lips before you reconnected in another kiss.  The two of you were so busy with kisses and declarations of love that you didn’t notice the door opening and closing and Rex telling you that he’d spend the night at Cody’s to give the two of you a bit of privacy.  But you didn’t notice and you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were together again, you still loved each other and the galaxy was at peace, giving you time to rebuild your relationship and relishing in your love. 
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This is short and unoriginal and corny, but after today’s episode I just had to write something about Echo and the idea of him misunderstanding your relationship with one of his brothers just popped into my head, and due to Echo’s obvious love for and trust in Rex in this episode it just had to be him 
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Note
Hello! I saw a post that said your prompts are open, but if they’re not yet, please don’t worry about this. Anyway, if you’re interested, please take this ‘Wen Ruohan appoints Lan Wangji his next heir with being 1) impressed by him, or 2) bested by him’ Lan Wangji is less than thrilled about this
Modern AU
“I hate this,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “This is so dumb.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy being kidnapped,” Jiang Cheng said, his arms crossed over his chest. He was scowling. He hadn’t stopped scowling. Nobody blamed him one bit. “It’s not like it’s something that gets advertised in travel brochures or anything.”
“Listen, if it was like in the movies, it’d be one thing,” Wei Wuxian argued back. Lan Wangji suspected he was just arguing in order to hear himself speak, but since Lan Wangji also enjoyed hearing him speak, he didn’t mind. “Getting snatched into a van! Taken to a mysterious secondary location via plane! Villain monologues! Handcuffs! Zipties! Ropes! Chains!”
Lan Wangji wondered if Wei Wuxian had a thing for bondage. He would be okay with that.
Very okay with that.
“Wei Wuxian…” Jiang Cheng started.
“But noooooo, we don’t get jungles or the ‘most dangerous game’ or sexy people in skimpy swimsuits –”
Lan Wangji had a bathing suit. It wasn’t that skimpy, though.
“- we just get kidnapped by a deranged politician who’s decided that the best way to figure out who deserves to be his heir is via a stupid reality show!”
“I think it’s based on the Apprentice,” Nie Huaisang said from where he was sitting. “Possibly the Bachelor? I actually don’t watch that much reality television.”
“You watch the Great British Bake Off like a fiend,” Jiang Cheng pointed out.
“First, Great British Bake Off doesn’t count. Second, if this was a bake-off, your sister would win, instead of not even being here. Is that what you want?”
Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian shuddered.
“So, we’re all in agreement that the goal is to lose, right?” Wei Wuxian said. “No one actually wants the job of being Wen Ruohan’s heir, right?”
Nods all around.
“Doesn’t he have kids already?” Jin Zixuan wondered.
“Wen Xu and Wen Chao,” Lan Wangji said shortly.
“…yeah, fair, I’d be looking elsewhere too. They’re pretty awful – dumb and dumber. But surely there’s someone else in the family…?”
“I think they’ve been disowned. Anyway, who would want power if it means putting up with Wen Ruohan?”
Nods all around a second time.
“How will this work?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Are there, like – contests?”
There were.
Stupid ones.
Lan Wangji did his utmost best to mess up the archery competition – archery? In this day and age? – but he wasn’t quite willing to turn around and wildly shoot backwards the way Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were doing, if only because the possibility of collateral damage made him shudder. He focused his arrows on a small corner just outside the target.
(Nie Huaisang’s arrows impressively did not reach the target even once. When asked how he had managed to pull that off despite being closely monitored to make sure he was actually trying, he proudly pointed to years of practice in fucking up his brother’s efforts at getting him to train.)
Lan Wangji was also incapable of getting a low score in the calligraphy competition, although Nie Huaisang shared in his misfortune there – being an artist did not necessarily translate to good penmanship, but in Nie Huaisang’s case it did – and naturally no one could quite compare to the atrocity that Wei Wuxian had created.
“It’s still recognizable as words, in my view,” Nie Huaisang declared after several minutes of close study. “So it should be fine to submit…you should really consider taking up abstract art, though. It’s quite nice, from that perspective.”
“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said. “I think. Or was that an insult?”
The mathematics segment was even more disastrous for Lan Wangji – his uncle had brought him up with a strict prohibition against lying, including on test answers – and then they’d brought out music…
They didn’t even give Lan Wangji a chance to sabotage his chance, opting to just play a Youtube clip of one of his public performances on the guqin.
He was very, very good at guqin.
At least they’d done the same for Wei Wuxian and his flute – he ended up getting ranked first in music, even above Lan Wangji – but that wasn’t going to be enough to overcome his middle-of-the-road performances in the other subject.
“I think you’re going to win,” Jiang Cheng told Lan Wangji. “I’m very sorry. Seriously, and without sarcasm: I’m very, very sorry.”
Lan Wangji said nothing, but apparently his face managed to convey his misery effectively enough because Wei Wuxian came over and gave him a hug.
Lan Wangji enjoyed the hug, at least.
“Don’t worry,” Nie Huaisang said. He was fanning himself again – where did he even get a fan? Lan Wangji thought all three of the ones he’d seen Nie Huaisang pull out of his pockets had been confiscated, and surely there was a limit to how many “back-ups” a person plausibly needed – and reclining under the shade, having been thoroughly knocked out of the running during the physical portion of the competition. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to be concerned: he was, as always, secure in his uselessness. “We’ve been here for quite a while, haven’t we? Our families will be along soon enough to pick us up, and then we can forget all this.”
“What if they can’t, though?” Jiang Cheng said, wringing his hands. “I mean, we all hate him, he’s awful, yes, but he still has influence and power, for some unknown reason –”
“I still can’t believe there are people who support him. Least of all nearly half the cultivation world!”
“Less than half. Remember, we just counted.” 
“Yes, yes, I know, but still. Regardless, don’t worry – it’ll be fine.”
“Surely if our families were going to do something, they’d be here already?” Jin Zixuan asked.
Jiang Cheng pointed at him. “See? Even the peacock is worried!”
“Also, what if Wen Ruohan wants to keep Lan Wangji as his heir even after we’re rescued?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know. He looked worried, which Lan Wangji appreciated. “Listen, my future boyfriend and I are not going to live somewhere named something as classless and pretentious as the, and I quote, ‘Nightless City’, okay? I refuse.”
…future boyfriend?
“The Nightless City is a perfectly decent name,” Nie Huaisang said. “For a Bond villain. Which I’m not convinced Wen Ruohan isn’t.”
Boyfriend? As in – romantic partner boyfriend?
“A Bond villain wouldn’t be this stupid,” Jiang Cheng argued.
Wei Ying’s future boyfriend?
“I dunno,” Wei Wuxian said. “There were some real stinkers, especially in the 70s…”
Did he mean Lan Wangji?
“Can we get back on subject?” Jin Zixuan wanted to know. “Lan Wangji is on the verge of being selected to be Wen Ruohan’s heir, and I’m not sure that process doesn’t involve brainwashing at some point.”
Wait, why was it future boyfriend? Couldn’t they be boyfriends now?
“I would fight them first,” Wei Wuxian declared. “All of them. Immediately!”
“Or we could escape. I know the guards took our cell phones, but I pickpocketed Wen Zhuliu’s and the GPS says we’re actually just at a warehouse outside the city.”
“We’d need a distraction, though…”
“How about we release the giant turtle?”
“Wait, that thing in the moat is a turtle? I thought it was a snake.”
“I don’t know why you expect me to know anything about amphibians.”
“It’s not – they’re not even remotely – a snake has no legs! What is wrong with you people?!”
“Unrelated, but has anyone noticed that none of the girls got brought in? Isn’t that sexist?”
“Like Wen Ruohan being sexist is a surprise –”
“I still think we need to do something before he tries to adopt Lan Wangji –”
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian, who blinked at him, and then beamed. “Or maybe make out in the corner while everyone’s arguing?”
That seemed like something they’d both enjoy.
It was, too, right up until someone did unleash the giant turtle, at which point it was mostly screaming and splashing and all of their families coming to their rescue at just the right time.
But Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were dating now, so overall, a good experience.
Well, mostly. Wen Ruohan sent him countless letters for the next two months asking him to consider coming back for an internship (to be paid in "experience" and "exposure", of course).
Lan Wangji burned them all.
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