#and now the book for my mother is FUCKED UP because it got thrown around inside the box

[morhath]

bookshop dot org girl I love you but you have GOT to stop sending me damaged books

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- Been Lied To

This was a request. Hope you enjoy!

Not many people knew about Tommy Shelby’s first love Greta. Before the war, he believed she was the one, the one he would marry. Tommy promised to come home to her, and she promised she would be there waiting for him when his train gets in. However that promise was broken when Tommy returned home and he’s love wasn’t there to great him. His aunt Polly later told him that she had been ill for some time and Greta’s sister had been looking after her, but she eventually passed away. Little did any of them know the truth.

A 14 year old YN paces the length of her bedroom having thrown a book she shouldn’t of had on to her bed. The book was a diary, here mums diary, the woman she believed to be her aunt was actually her mother and she had been lied to her whole life!

Hearing the door downstairs open then close, YN sees red. Why did she have to be lied to? Why couldn’t she have been told the truth? Running downstairs she sees her ‘mum’

“Hi love I got some of those biscuits you like”

“Thanks mum, or should I say Auntie Kitty”

“YN love, what are you talking about?”

“I’m taking about your diary”

“What? Where did you find that?” mum shouts with wide eyes

“That doesn’t matter!” I yell back “you lied to me my whole life? Why?”

“YN…” mum sighs “I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to have a child, then when your auntie Greta passed away after having you I thought….”

“You could have just told me. I would have still loved you like you were my mum. Who’s my dad?”

“That I will never tell you. You don’t want to get mixed up with them. Promise me you won’t go looking for him”

“How can I if you won’t tell me who he is!” YN shouts as she storms off upstairs slamming her bedroom door. Looking back at the diary she picks it up again and takes another look at the diary. Rereading YN notices some initials

15th February 1918

Dear Diary,

I’m afraid TS may find out the truth, but I can’t let him. He will ruin the girl with the Peaky Blinders. He questioned me today, said she looked like him and his family. Of course I told he he was stupid and that she is my daughter not his!

TS? Who was TS? He was a Peaky Blinder…. Then it hit YN. TS must stand for Tommy Shelby. Tommy Shelby is her father? Well there’s only one way to find out. Knowing that he was getting married to the old barmaid Grace, YN quickly leaves her room taking the diary with her. She runs downstairs and to the coat rack

“Where are you going?” Kitty asks

“Out!” YN shouts before slamming the bedroom door. Hoping she can get to the church before the wedding starts, YN runs as fast as she can until she seeing a group of men stood outside smoking

“YN?” Turning around she sees Finn Shelby, the youngest brother who she’s knows from school, well when he decided to attend “what are you doing here?”

“Erm” now she’s here she feels nervous, yes she’s angry at her mum, well auntie, but now she’s worried because she’s turned up on her possible dads wedding day. What if he wants nothing to do with her?

“Finn come on Toms waiting” Arthur says stomping out his cigarette

“I’ll be a minute” Finn shouts back “YN what’s wrong?”

“I don’t even know why I though coming here was going to be a good idea” YN says before biting her lip

“Finn!”

“I’m coming! YN what’s going on?”

“I think Tommy is my dad. Look” YN hands the diary over to Finn who takes a look at the diary entry that YN just read. Gingerly Finn reads the diary, his eyes widen at the end

“Shit. Ok you gotta speak to Tommy”

“But…”

“For fuck sake Finn what the fuck are you doing?” John now asks walking over to us

“This is YN, Tommys long lost daughter”

“What?” Finn then hands the diary to John to read

“Holy shit. Greta was your mum not kitty?” John says shocked “I know Tommy had his suspicions, but fuck why would she keep this from him? He had a right to know”

“Right are you guys coming or what because Tommy is getting impatient” Polly walks over with Ada

“Poll we think YN is Tommys daughter” the diary is then passed over to their aunt

“Today of all days, why?” Polly mutters “ok we will deal with this later, but right now we have a wedding. YN head home then….”

“I can’t, or more like I don’t want to. Mum, auntie kitty, fuck I don’t know what to call her now, knows I found the diary. She’s mad and won’t talk to me about this. She’ll just pretend that that diary doesn’t exist”

“Ok ok. Stand at the back of the church, don’t make a fuss. After the wedding we’ll head to Arrow House. We can talk then”

“Ok” YN gives in knowing this probably her best option.

Later on after the wedding Polly takes Yn to Tommys house. They all head into Tommys office, the whole family including Grace

“What are we in here for Poll” tommy sighs lighting up a cigarette

“Kitty lied. Greta was pregnant while you were away at war. YN is Gretas daughter, your daughter Thomas” Polly says throwing the diary onto the table. Tommy runs his hands over his face sitting down

“How do you know she is definitely his?” Grace asks

“Before I went to war Greta said she thought she was pregnant. When I came home Kitty said Greta wasn’t pregnant, but got sick and died”

“Come to think of it after you went away Greta disappeared. Said she was ill, I tried going over to check on her but Kitty wouldn’t let me in” Ada says

“Then all of a sudden Kitty has a daughter” Arthur says

“Did any of you notice a bump?”

“No, but pregnant or not she would have tried to hide it” Polly reply’s to John

“But she was still called names when she first came out with YN”

“So YN really is your daughter?” Grace asks looking at her husband

“I guess so” Tommy looks up at his family “everyone out, except YN. I think we need to talk”

That evening, YN and Tommy talk. Tommy tells YN about he mother, about what she was like and how he loved her. YN has to go home, but over the weeks and months, YN soon finds herself living with Tommy and Grace and their son. At first Grace is weary, but soon warms up the the young girl. For a while YN wanted nothing to do with Kitty, but after speaking to Polly and finding out that Kitty only wanted a child of her own and loved YN with all her heart, YN decided to make an effort with her aunt. But for YN her whole life changed that night all because she found a diary while looking for Irish Whiskey.

[greenlikethesea]

deeply curious about King Eddie??? if this is eddie as a drag king, i will launch myself out of a rocket at the hare moon loool

omg no that's not what it's about but wouldn't that be an amazing idea, sparkly???

king eddie is this idea that @sparklyslug and i came up with to explore a world in which tropes were reversed. eddie is actually the popular jock who's dating the head cheerleader, chrissy cunningham -- but here's the trick: they're both gay and bearding for each other until they get to college. meanwhile, steve never really got popular on account of his mother divorcing his father and moving them to a much smaller house next door to the hendersons. steve's an a/v nerd who never dated nancy and discovered he was bisexual because he sent away for star trek zines and they had some, uh, enlightening material in them. steve and eddie meet at skull rock one day and a friendship -- and maybe a romance? -- develop.

here's a little snippet for you, Chrissy trying to thwart Steve's affections for Eddie:

“Do you like Eddie?” Chrissy asks. It’s an ambiguous enough question, designed to intrigue. She knows how to play this game.

Steve nods. “Yeah, he’s really cool. Uh, we’re into a lot of the same books and movies. I couldn’t believe it when he threw out that Star Trek reference –”

“Not that kind of like,” Chrissy says. Play coy, Christine. You’re good at this. You didn’t get your social standing by being so goddamn obvious like Harrington over here. “Of course you like him as a friend. I mean, like a crush.”

“No,” Steve says, too quickly, too definitely. Gotcha. 

Chrissy knows that Steve used to have a crush on her. Not in the way that every guy at Hawkins High has wanted a piece of her, no. In that puppy dog way, that innocent, sweet manner of liking someone that only happens when you’re still a virgin. She was “dating” Eddie by the time he came into her periphery, taking photos for the school newspaper with Jonathan Byers at every game. That was safe. She could coolly reject him then, because duh, she had a boyfriend, and she wouldn’t be seen with the head of the A/V club. Social suicide. But this is…different. She and Eddie have their Chicago trips, their flings, but Eddie’s never liked anyone long enough to jeopardize their relationship. And Steve never liked Chrissy as much as he definitely likes Eddie.

They’re so close, both going to the same college. She’s so close to leaving this town behind and being who she really wants to be. And she can’t let Steve ruin that for her, someone who probably hasn’t even had his first kiss. 

Fuck. This sucks. But it has to be done.   

“I won’t tell anyone if you do,” Chrissy says, widening her eyes, batting her eyelashes a little. “I promise. 

Steve looks away, then looks back at her, lips pursed in uncertainty. “Promise?”

Chrissy knows her smile looks serene, has spent hours perfecting it in bathroom mirrors. “You can trust me.”

--

and here's a little snippet that my dear sparkly wrote, because I love it so much:

“Can’t deduce for my own species my ass, Henderson,” Steve crows (quietly, since the hawk could be around anywhere). 

“Oh yeah?” A voice sounds from above him, and Steve whirls around, startled. “And what deductions are those, Holmes?”

For a second, Steve is pretty sure he’s flat-out seeing things. He’s a science guy, is all about facts and proofs, has found them engaging and soothing from the second he accidentally found his way into Mr. Clarks A/V Club the first day of sixth grade. But he’s automatically reaching for the fantastical right now, because what else could explain this figure, stretched out regal and comfortable on the top of Skull Rock like he’s lounging on a thrown, the setting sun throwing golden light through his dark curls and the depths of his famous brown eyes, draped in gold from his perfect skin to his letterman’s jacket? 

What else could explain Eddie Munson, King of Hawkins High, regarding Steve with open curiosity and humor? Right now, when Steve is fairly sure he hadn’t caught Eddie’s notice more than five times in the entire time they’ve been classmates?

“Holmes, or–” Eddie cocks his head to the side, hair sending off more golden sparks. “Harrington. Right?”

So much for not being noticed by the guy. Steve, to his horror, feels himself blush. 

[possessedramblings]

No upside down au but things aren't magically okay

TW! Parental abuse, neglect & abandonment, Racism (Billy Hargrove is a piece of shit) Alcoholism, bullying and sexual harassment

Things aren't just happy and great because the Upside Down doesn't exist, and I want to write about it, so this is my take and my AU.

Will, Jonathan and Joyce are still in poverty, on the brink of nothingness, and it doesn't help that Lonnie is a piece of shit, who still has occasional custody of the boys. Every other weekend, Joyce is alone in her little house, while the boys are with their father, because the three of them are too afraid to speak up.

Mike and Nancy don't get along, plain and simple. It's not because they're siblings and because "siblings fight" but because they're in a broken home. Karen is out some nights seeing her "lover" and Ted is just the worst. He yells at the kids, shames Nancy, belittles her to the point that she leaves Mike alone. He hates her because she can leave, which is why he begs for a bike, or to spend the night somewhere, anywhere but home.

Dustin is the kid of a single mother, who is overbearing on him. She's an anxious woman who fears Dustin's gonna get hurt. He gets bullied at school, and not just insulting words. He gets shoved, his d&d dice, books, hats, and other things get stolen, and sometimes he comes home with bruises from the older kids.

Lucas has it fine at home, but once he leaves it's no longer anything happy. He's afraid to spend time with his friends because of Billy and all of the other assholes. He constantly gets harassed because of his skin, the way he talks, the way he looks, and it gets even worse when he starts talking to Max. His parents worry that one day, he won't come home.

Max couldn't hate life more. She's always angry, and it's all her moms fault. Her mom decided that Neil Hargrove was a good man, but it led to a life of absolute fucking pain. Billy was angry with her, for what - she didn't know. Neil was a drunk, he'd drink and drink for hours, using bottles as weapons against everyone else in the house. She saw the same hatred in Mike Wheeler, which caused her to lash out at him, but she knew it wasn't his fault, it was their parents.

Jane's mom couldn't properly care for her, something about a neurological disease that would get worse as the years passed. So she was given up to a foster home. Poor Jane was young, ad could hardly speak, let alone know her own name, so the man, Brenner, didn't care to know names. Jane, now Eleven, didn't know how she got there, or why, but she grew up believing her mother hated her, until she ran away after the oldest kid there snapped.

Steve never knew what his parents were like. They were always away. They'd bring back snow globes from every state airport in the country, but that's all he knew about them. He started to act out so he could possibly get their attention. He stopped once he finally saw something he hadn't noticed before. Jonathan wasn't flinching when he hit. He was just as bad as any old abuser. He tried to turn himself around, he really did. He had to change, especially after seeing Dustin, Lucas and Mike being thrown around by Billy.

Robin knew she never had it easy. She grew up in the trailer parks after her mom and dad lost their jobs ad had to find somewhere else. Her parents jumped between jobs for a long time, and once Robin was old enough, they gave her an old hand me down bike and set her on her way. She knew life was even harder after she discovered her undeniable crush on Tammy Thompson. She would be a town pariah if anyone found out.

Nancy on the other hand, was a town pariah. Her home was the least of her problems. She was humiliated by a man, by several men. Steve Harrington and Tommy Hagan calling her a slut, her own father accusing her of being a whore, and her employers objectifying her at every chance they could get. Nancy felt just like an object for the pleasure of men, so she started learning to defend herself, wanting to be her own woman, but too afraid to deep down.

Jonathan always pushed back how he felt for his mom and brother. Joyce was a struggling woman, and Will was so young, he didn't want his brother to feel like the world was so cold and dark, so he took more hits for the both of them. He took hits from Steve and Tommy, he wanted to keep everyone else safe so he took hits.

Things aren't happy in Hawkins, but we can certainly pretend.

[dragonswithjetpacks]

I am reading ACORAT. And I need to vent. I am 50% through the book. Here's my take.

I really enjoyed the beginning of the book. It was decently written. Main character was lacking in places, seemed definitely typical and predictable but I expected that in a top selling fantasy romance novel. I loved the sass and the stubbornness, but that faded.

So I get further in. And there are these plot hooks thrown at you left and right, but no real actual plot. I get that it is from the main character's prospective so she's left in the dark, but there's so many hooks.

The repetitiveness got to me as well. The author likes to mention the same thing over and over. And not in like a creative writing kind of way. But in a way that looks like she forgot she mentioned it literally two pages ago.

Then the MC gets whiny. And the stubbornness just feels like her being naive at this point. And there were even times where I said "Are you dumb?" outloud to myself.

From the point where she gets to the manor to the point I am now, the whole book just felt like filler. The pining and the angst weren't really there. It just skips lazily over days and all the sudden her mind shifts from thinking the guys an ass hole to wanting to dress up for him? It felt like lazy writing. The chapters range from being super short to decent length. But the skipping in the middle of the chapter is too much sometimes.

Substance isn't there. It feels like the world is empty. Even during the festival, she doesn't. Describe. The festival. Not in a descriptive setting kind of way. The book is very much focused on the main character and every thought she has is revolved around a.) escaping b.) how she feels about the fae and c.) the fucking back muscles of this dude.

I swear to god I went from hearing about this promise she made to her mother to the back muscles. It just switched from one to the other in like one chapter. I mean. The switch was so fast.

That being said, so far I would die for Lucien. It's not a terrible book, but the main character is driving me insane. I mean her name is Feyre (Fay-ruh) in a kand of fae. I mean... I MEAN. When you think you're getting this strong female character you're actually being show she's frail and weak physically, but likes to talk back and everyone is just okay with it. And it's a fun quirk.

Again. I'm gonna read the series. I don't hate her. I don't hate the main love interest. But it's definitely the side characters and the little plot that exists for me.

I've been told it gets better.

Also, I definitely feel like the author watched Beauty in the Beast as a young angsty girl and decided she was super into it.

That's it. That's my take.

I ain't even tagging ACORAT because I don't want to get eaten alive.

[cinamun]

Hey Cina, I know the RRR/BBC is rn conversing about Rah/Dira and generational trauma, but can I go Blackwards for a moment to a few of the minor characters. Regarding Hope's pretty but troubled MIL, Miss Mercy, just wanted to ask if we have seen the last of Sean and if we will ever get a backstory glimpse into how that night went, if either got caught up in emotions (they both seem emotionally labile, though I still think if you went that direction it would make for an interesting dynamic due to who Sean is... in more than one person's life.) Plus we've assumed her last time in the problematic penthouse was with you know who. But maybe it wasn't... Also, Amaya's family? Who are they? Will there be a glimpse of them? Has Indya & Darren or DJ for that matter met her family? Hopefully they aren't toxic. Her features and skintone give off a vibe like her parents are from the Caribbean. And now Black to the Future questions: I was also was going to ask if Rah is redeemable, because there tends to be a throw away society mentality towards black men that have "issues" in RL & in books/entertainment so I was hoping he was/is redeemable, but I think I am getting a hint that there may be a move on from Rah and possibly ol' boy Ryke since Dira is young and may not have the same mindset as Hope regarding dating. To conclude, just two observations: How do I know since 2015(?) or was it 2017 that Indie has grown up and embraced her grown-woman-with-children crown? She came to her eldest daughter's house in Jerilee swag: house slippers. :D And not cute bougie ones at that! Plus of course how she is handling Hope's new mom freak outs and Dira and DJ's underdeveloped brain decisions.

2nd Observation: I laugh every time you slip in the official RRR/BBC logo of Raven's knowing look every now and then. :D :D :D

OOOOH Friend!! That's a lot! But you already know how we do so....

As for any potential MerSean shenanigans, I gotta hit you with the stay tuned. There are SEVERAL members of this here Badass Book Club™ who are shipping them HARD. Because why not? They look damn good together

Sean must have good dick if he pulled Indya for as long as he did and that is important given that good dick is a weak spot for Miss Mercy....

..... but I digress.

Now on to Amaya Griffin. If and only If she and DJ last will we get a glimpse into her home life. But you're on to something with those island roots.

Amaya's mother is Sulanese.

As for your questions, LET'S GO!!

A) was going to ask if Rah is redeemable, because there tends to be a throw away society mentality towards black men that have "issues" in RL

You are absolutely right, and this was a key issue earlier in the story with Darren. You had to be there friend! TABLES WERE THROWN!! HANDS WERE CAUGHT!! It was THE WILD WEST in the BBC™ where on one side, we hated Darren and wanted his ass thrown out for how he treated our girl. There were those who even thought Indya DESERVED it because she was often quite fucking bogus! I had a reckoning with my DAMN self about Darren and decided to write his growth journey which I am STILL writing. In other words, once we decide to throw someone away, we just do it. I wanted to challenge that for many reasons, one of them being the one you stated.

You can imagine, then, that while Rah did something entirely fucked up, I am willing to at least understand (and maybe others are too), that there are factors in his life that may be caused these unfortunate series of events. Imagine having a mom who is never there for you and everyone in your school has seen her sex tape. Not saying these are excuses, just saying....

Anyway, we gotta stay tuned to see if Rahul is a character who even sticks around. Indira is about to have a birthday and she could choose to cut off boffum. We shall see.

B) How do I know since 2015(?) or was it 2017 that Indie has grown up and embraced her grown-woman-with-children crown?

Maybe i'm reading this wrong, and if I am, please clarify in another ask but.... how can you NOT know? She's in house slippers (I thought they were cute) because she was there to clean in a full lace front and cute little joggers (Mercy was too except for the lace front). There will always be bougie Indya which is why you will refer to her as Queen Muva around Dem Babies™ lmfao

I think Indya has absolutely embraced her grown woman and I thought it was glaringly obvious.

Especially here:

And of course here:

[desidesidesi]

The first liveblogging of the excitement of The Box TM was getting out of control so I'm making a new post and sharing a new story.

So! My mother and her friends live in a poor backwater of Mississippi. Like we visited during Thanksgiving and the "City Square" which is the heart of the city was either cute, kitschy gift stores or buildings that are literal husks with caved in rooves. So they are permanently B O R E D and have picked up the art......... Of Dumpster Diving in the extremely rich college town north of them (not naming it cuz I don't wanna dox my mom or ruin their weird side hussle. @banahbanah you know where I'm talking about)

Apparently they heard tale that all the rich college kids and stores just throw out perfectly good furniture, clothing, anything under the sun at the end of the semester. Sure enough she's told me about a giant 65in TV that was "broken" (a 50$ repair got it working again) basically a new wardrobe, perfectly good food (Star Bucks throws away so much shit), Coach Bags, and knick-knacks galore!

This is all relevant because half of the stuff in The Box are goodies from one of her outings!

First pic!

In this picture (Professor Juniper for Scale) we have a Bento Box, a Tea Cup (which she worried would break but thankfully did not), and two different gift sets of tea (both thrown out well before their expi date) all gotten from the HomeGoods Dumpster in said rich college town.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Desi. Isn't this a little privileged and problematic that a bunch of Southern White Women can go around dumpster diving and basically not get in trouble with the police? And I say... Like, duh? But they kinda do a Robin Hood approach to their little operation and share with everyone in their friend group anything and everything they find! They're basically using their privilege to stick it to corporate America and even MORE privileged white people!

Also in this pictures are crystals from an old chandelier in my childhood room. Mom was replacing it and asked if I wanted it? I'm renting, I don't have any place to put it lol so I just said "Can I have the crystals to make Sun Catchers with?" She didn't quite get it, but she sent them anyway so yay!

And of course, my delicious Milex (powdered milk for those that don't know what the hell I'm talking about) 💖💖💖 I know I'm a weirdo for basically using it as a cereal additive by making things extra milk, but I fucking love it and it tastes of childhood. 💖 We have to get friends to "import" it from Honduras cuz the company that makes it doesn't sell online anywhere??? It's fucking wild how hard it is to find this stuff!!! Gotta ration better this time. I literally used the last bag she got me in a few weeks 😅

Also? Cute cows on the packaging!

And finally! The Purse-My-Aunt-Saw-And-Thought-I-Would-Appreciate-It-Best!

Look at this thing! It was "Made in Nepal" with "environmentally friendly products" and is bigger than my damn torso??? I can fit my full-sized sketch book in this dang thing lol! It's very... Hippy dippy lol. I definitely see why she got it for me 🤣 Will have to wear it around Colorado and see if I get any Crunchy Moms lusting after it.

BUT YES. I did an unboxing on Facebook Messenger with my mom and dad and it was silly fun. Hope this random hobby my mom has taken up nets me more random bullshit lol.

[buttsoclock]

Everyone is so mad at Neil Gaiman for the end of Good Omens season 2 (which I think is silly), but I have a much more personal issue to take up with him.

It started with Coraline, and that was bad enough (and by bad I mean specifically for my unique individual psychology--on the whole it's a wonderful story). See, I have two phobias: Spiders and needles. I also just have a thing about eyes.

So a story where this Other Mother wants to sew buttons into the eyes of the main character and then eventually turns into this spidery creature? Really kind of felt like Mr. Gaiman woke up one day and went, "There's one specific bitch out there who will be very upset by this specific combination of factors and I'm here to fuck her shit up."

(Did I still both read the book and watch the whole movie, with a blanket to hide behind even though I was probably 21 at the time? Of course I did, I make wonderful life choices, shhh.)

So yeah, a part of me already felt like Neil Gaiman was out to get me personally after that.

But it got so much worse. And to explain how, I need to explain why I'm arachnophobic. When I was 3, I had this dream that I was...somewhere, I don't remember where, and saw a spider. So I stepped on it and squished it.

Then I saw a couple more spiders, so I stepped on them and squished them.

Then I saw a bunch more. I wanted to get away from them, but there were a ton of them in every direction now. I turned toward the door to get the hell out of there, but saw that spiders were pouring in through the gap under the door.

I looked around then and noticed them coming from EVERYWHERE now--from cracks in the walls, between floorboards, etc. Pretty soon the spiders covered every surface--the floor, ceiling, and walls were visibly rippling from the movement of so many spiders.

And then they started to crawl up my legs and all over my body. I could feel them on my skin and in my clothes. They crawled over my eyes until I couldn't see. When I started to scream, they crawled in my mouth and down my throat. I remember waking up feeling like I was choking on something.

Let me reiterate, I was three years old when I had that dream. It's one of the first three memories I have of my life (it goes, the death of my dad's mom, getting my first dog, and that).

And then I continued to have that dream on a recurring basis, anywhere from once every couple months to sometimes as much as three times a night, for the next TWENTY-FIVE YEARS.

The waking up part was almost worse. Even once I was awake--really awake, enough to fully realize I wasn't dreaming anymore--I always imagined I could still feel something moving in the back of my throat and felt I would choke on it.

I can't tell you how much those dreams messed with me.

The dreams finally stopped in my late 20s. For a long time it made me anxious that they had stopped--like I was due for them to start up again any time now and maybe they'd be worse because of their absence. But I reached my 30s having not had that dream in two or three years.

Then in 2020 I picked up Anansi Boys for the first time, and imagine my fucking delight (and by delight I mean absolute horror) when I read a scene in which the main character's dream ends like this:

I started having that dream in probably 1993. Anansi Boys was published in 2005. I didn't read it for the first time until 2020, after being free of those dreams for at least three whole years, for the first time since I was barely old enough to form memories. I can't tell you what a trip it was to see that in a book by my favorite author.

It didn't go into a ton of detail about the dream or what the character felt. It didn't have to. As soon as I read it I felt that familiar feeling I used to have when I woke up from those dreams--like I was choking on something small with too many legs.

Let me tell you, I have slammed many a book down onto the table or bed, yelled, cursed, cried at them, but never have I actually thrown a book--except for this one. That felt personal.

So I would just like to thank @neil-gaiman for somehow, despite not knowing I exist, creating stories specifically designed to torment me individually. Super cool.

(I still finished the book. I still enjoyed the book. And in a weird way I loved the book that much more for it. I'm gonna be mad about it forever though.)

[himbos-hotline]

"Waiting outside in the car after dropping the other off to ensure they at least get inside their homes safely before driving away. "

for Cole and Jay!

I love the way he looks at me

Word count: 3785 words Ship: Jay Orton/Adam Cole [baybay], Refrences to the Polycule, Implied loosely Kenny Omega/Hangman Adam Page [but yknow its there, theyre boyfriends.] Matt Jackson & Nick Jackson, Matt Jackson & Matt Jackson & Jay Jackson AU: Highschool!AU Characters: Jay, Adam Cole, "Hangman" Adam Page, Kenny Omega, Mother Cole, Matt and Nick Jackson Triggers: I don't think there is any triggers? Authors note: High school Jay and Cole my beloved. Jay is angry and needs a nap because how dare Cole be so fucking adorable and how DARE his brothers make friends with him!

READ ON AO3

Jay scowls at her brother over her science textbook. She hears Cole laugh and she presses her lips together in a small frown. It's not that she doesn’t like Adam Cole, she thinks he's fine as a person; with blue eyes rimmed with gold and the constant smell of cinnamon that follows him around. It’s just he's so obnoxious. He tries too hard in French class to make friends, sitting at the table in the corner. He puts his hand up faster than them, answers questions louder than them. He even got the locker next to Kenny, Jay practically had first dibs on it! 

“Your face is gonna stay that way if the wind changes.” Nick’s voice splits through her looping thoughts. He jolts, nearly smacking him with the textbook. “Sorry kid.” he rests a calming hand on their shoulder, looking over towards the half-open kitchen door, “don’t you normally study in there?” 

“Can’t.” Jay says simply, leaning up against the back of the couch. “Matt has his new best friend over.” They wave a dismissive hand over at the door, rolling his eyes when she hears Cole laugh again. “Some stupid mathletics thing.” 

“Heh nerds.” Nick sinks beside her, tapping his shoulder. Jay leans against his big brother's side, giving him a small smile when he wraps them in a side hug, warm and protective in the way that only the slightly older brother can. “He’ll go home soon enough, before mama comes home.” 

Jay gives a half shrug, turning his attention back to the science textbook open in front of him. The words merge together and in the end, she gives up. Slamming the book closed and resting her head against her brother's shoulder again. “I have a French test tomorrow. I'm gonna go study.” 

“Good, you should.” Cole is smiling down at them, his backpack thrown lazily over his shoulder. He chuckles, leaning against the top of the couch when Jay rolls her eyes.

“Shut up Cole, we get the same marks every exam.” Jay retorts, glancing up at him as she gathers her school supplies. “I’m going to my room.”

Matt and Nick look at each other as if sharing an inside joke. Using his elbow, Jay jabs Nick in his side, rolling their wrist to prompt him to speak. Nick smiles sweetly and presses his lips stubbornly together. Matt does the same, holding both his hands up in surrender. Frustration paints itself in the corner of Jay’s eyes as he squirms his way past, trying not to breathe as he shoves past Cole. There's the soft smell of cinnamon that stabs at Jay’s nostrils and it feels like she's choking, she takes a deep breath as she takes the stairs two at a time. The door to their bedroom opens and slams closed.

Nick and him share a room and have for as long as Jay can remember. But now as she sits with her back towards the door, Jay wishes that Nick had his own room. He presses his face against his knees and sighs, gripping at the fabric of her backpack. She doesn’t mind Adam Cole as a person but there's a fluttering feeling of anger that bites at the sides of their stomach whenever he’s around. He makes her feel nauseous and like the inside of her lungs is covered with honey and every breath has to fight to come out whenever he’s around them. Jay grips his hands into fists, watching how his knuckles turn white even when painted in the sunset that creeps up the carpeted floor. 

Jay watches as it paints their shared room with reds and yellows and oranges. It feels like she's just walked into a paint canvas and despite the chill in the fall air there's a warmth that floats through the window and thaws the anxious chill in her chest. They let the back of his head rest against the painted hardwood and their eyes slip closed. 

There's the distant sound of the front door opening, the far away voices of his brothers talking about Nick’s band class and Matt’s bulk of computer science homework. The sound of footsteps and then the impatient knocking of her big brother. “Jay mama says it’s time for dinner.” 

Jay blinks heavily, rolling their head to the side. The bright colors of the sunset had been replaced by the white light of the full moon. He doesn't remember falling asleep but he knows it's something she won’t do again. Pain runs its way up the back of zeir legs when he stands and unlocks the bedroom door. Matt’s standing almost sheepishly when she steps outside and rubs the pain out of her neck. “Sorry…” 

“It's okay.” He places a comforting hand on her back, pulling him quickly into his side. “What's your problem with Cole? Are you still upset that he took the locker next to Kenny?” 

Yes. Jay thinks instantly, letting the word bubble up her throat and onto his tongue before pressing it against the roof of his mouth. It fizzles away and still held by her brother Jay just shrugs. “No, I just don't like the guy.” 

“Okay, okay.” Matt doesn’t say anything until they are sitting in the canteen the next day.  

Jay rubs his hands against the front of his jeans before picking up a clementine from the small pile in the middle of the group. Rain drums against the canteen windows, heavy and rhythmic. Children walk past the small group of friends who sit in a circle on the floor, sharing fruit and snacks. Kenny has his head on Adam’s lap, doodling in the back of his math book. He’s smiling in a way that makes Jay’s stomach feel warm and he’s careful to lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Gross.” Nick grumbles playfully, covering his mouth as he chews on apple slices, there's peanut butter on the corner of his mouth. Adam reaches out, stroking his thumb across 

his friends lips until it disappears and he licks the peanut butter off his thumb. “Thanks.” Nick replies simply, shrugging when Matt tilts his head confused. 

Jay looks between her brothers, wishing that she was also clued in to whatever connection Matt and Nick had. She’s lived with them her entire life, yet as they talk with their eyes Jay is just as confused as the rest of their little friend group. He gives up with his venture at trying to understand them, turning back to the clementine in his hands. He digs their nail into the flesh and exposes the soft orange flesh under. The smell tickles their nose; bittersweet and tingling as she breathes. 

They pick at the pith, letting it drop onto a crumpled napkin before he splits the fresh fruit in half, tapping Adam on the back of the palm. He makes a small sound, looking up from his book before holding his hand out. Jay places segments into his hand and smiles when his lips brush against the hinge of zeir jaw. “Thank you darlin’” He hums, pressing another kiss to the shell of her ear. It makes Jay giggle

“Can I join?” Cole’s voice is unnaturally shy, his hands tucked into the front of his hoodie. Rain pins his hair to his forehead, framing his eyes in a way that makes the sticky feeling in Jay’s lungs return. The fruit suddenly tastes sour in her mouth and it takes everything in him to swallow the bile-like taste. Trying their best to keep his face neutral, Jay nods, ignoring the look his friends give each other. 

Cole’s smile is little and awkward, almost as if he was surprised by the reply. He squirms between Matt and Nick, picking awkwardly at one of the pins on his backpack, Jay scoots closer to Adam, letting Kenny drape his legs over their legs when zey get close enough. “I was thinking..Why don’t you come round today?” 

Jay nearly chokes on their own spit, he drops his clementine on the floor in surprise. “Excuse me?” 

“For the French project?” Cole raises an awkward eyebrow, reaching down to scoop the dirt-covered fruit from the floor and wrapping it in a napkin before dropping it into the nearby trash can. He stretches and Jay pretends not to watch the way his hair, despite twisted into wet rat tails, brushes against the curve of his jaw in a way that makes Jay want to tuck the damp strands behind his ear. 

She shakes her head, grips at the loose fabric of Adam’s jeans in nervousness and after a few seconds finds her words. “sure…I’ll have to ask my mom-” 

“Mama said it was fine.” Her brothers reply instantly, not looking up from their phones. Kenny rolls his head to look up at Jay and flashes them a smile that's nothing short of comforting. She glances down at him and nods. Jay releases their grip on Adam’s leg, running an apologetic thumb across the curve of his hip before placing both hands in their lap. 

“What's your last class?” Cole asks, brushing wet hair off his face, he pulls it into a ponytail and the exposed nape of his neck makes Jay feel like she's drowning. He forgets everything that isn’t Cole kneeling in front of her, her stomach knots and-

“Math.” Adam finally answers for her, smiling when Jay nods silently, rubbing at the apple of their cheeks.Theres a blush creeping up the back of her neck and it makes Adam chuckle breathily. 

“Yeah…room 219” Jay finally stumbles over his words, side-eyeing her brothers when they chuckle, the sound barely hidden by the flurry of backpacks being zipped up and the sound of other high school children returning from the outside; stained with rain. Cole smiles, teeth white and perfect and Jay returns the smile, swallowing the nerves. 

“I’ll uh pick you up after class.” Cole says, like it's an order and Jay is quick to nod, the bell to signal the end of lunch breaking off any reply they had. The small group untangles themselves from one another, parting ways at the stairs. Adam wraps a secure arm around Jay as they squirm through busy corridors, nearly falling through the door to their math class. 

The two of them sit at the back, holding hands under the desk. Adam works quietly, mumbling replies to the teacher's questions under his breath, never loud enough for Mr.Gunn to hear but always loud enough that Jay manages to scribble them down before the teacher reaches his desk. 

Jay wishes that they remembered anything he learned in math class that day. He wishes that he focused on calculus instead of the way that Cole’s hair curled as it dried, how his eyes looked lined with gold and the way his lips, perfect and pink, looked so full that Jay could potentially lose himself in the cave that was Cole’s mouth. 

Something unlocks deep inside his chest, something that feels like nicotine flooding through his veins. His entire body feels open, exposed and he places his head on his desk, smacking it so hard against the table that Adam looks up from packing his back, green eyes startled. 

“What's wrong?” He asks, almost by instinct, placing a hand between his friend's shoulder blades, rubbing gently when they make a small pained sound. 

“I think I like Cole.” Jay replies, gripping the corners of his desk. 

“Oh.” Adam replies, kneeling down beside her desk. The classroom is half empty and Mr. Gunn barely looks up when Adam presses a kiss to the side of Jay’s face to make zem look at him. 

“Yeah.” Jay whispers, the word coming out more like a whine as he tilts his head to blink at Adam. “dya think I could sneak out of the class before he sees?” 

Adam glances up at the door and shakes his head. “Nah. I’ll let you two go.” Jay scrambles for Adam’s hand as he leaves, resting his forehead against their desk again when he disappears, letting Cole squirm past. 

Jay watches his converses creep into their eyeline and slowly zey raise their head, mis-matched eyes meeting his blue ones. Something warm pools in her chest and Jay is unable to stop a smile creeping across her face. He wants to protest, to scowl at the worried look in his eyes, to say that she doesn't feel well and call her mother to pick her up, pretending to be sick so they don’t come into school tomorrow..or the next day. Jay could fake his death and beg his parents to move zem to another high school. 

One that isn't populated with Adam Cole. 

“Hi.” She says, like they’re friends. Maybe they are and Jay just didn't notice. 

Cole grins, bright and happy. “My mom’s waiting outside.” 

Jay nods again, letting him help gather his math textbooks. He closes their notebook and tucks it securely into their backpack. “You have nice handwriting.” 

“Thanks..” 

The conversation lulls as they walk through the mostly empty corridors, stopping at Cole’s locker so he can throw his sports kit in. Jay glances as Kennys locker, traces the stickers that decorate the garish red with his eyes. “They’re cool stickers.”

“Yeah.” Jay feels almost guilty for not having more to say. But the honey is hardening in his lungs making it hard to talk. Cole nods kindly, he looks like he's going to say something but he stops when Jay looks at him. 

“Why is your mom picking you up?” Jay asks, hoping that her tone doesn’t sound rude. Cole chuckles, sticking his hands into his hoodie pockets. 

“She had to pick my little brother up from daycare and was in the area.” He explains, tilting his head when Jay makes a small sound of interest. “What?” He asks, jogging ahead slightly to open the door to the parking lot. Jay smiles, bowing his head in thanks as they walk into the parking lot.  Maybe it's reflex, maybe it's because Cole has a little brother but he takes Jay by the hand as they walk. 

His hands are warm despite the chilly fall weather and Jay feels her stomach tangle. Their hand feels heavy and stone-like in his and Jay has to fight against the feeling, bending his knuckles until he’s holding his hand back. As soon as her fingertips brush against the curve of his knuckles, every muscle comes undone. Jay releases a heavy breath, squeaking when Cole pulls her towards the car, not letting go of their hand until they’re standing beside the car. 

He opens the car door for her, grinning when Jay’s multi-colored eyes flick from the open door to his soft face. Surprise melts into an emotion they’ve never shown around him before. Butterflies feel like they are swarming around his stomach, fluttering up his throat when Jay gets in and once sure his fingers are away, closes the car door. 

“Did you two have a good day at school?” His mother asks when Cole sinks into the passenger side of the car. He nods, looking at Jay through the rearview mirror. Jay nods back. “Good. So French huh?” 

“Yes Ma’am.” Jay replies, resting his hands in his lap.  His parents raised him to be polite. So they raise their chin and push their shoulders back until he’s sitting straight in the back seat of his brother's best friend's car. His mother chuckles and Jay tilts her head in confusion. 

“Oh don’t worry about all of that sweetheart.” She doesn’t take her eyes off the road when she speaks to Jay and a part of zem is glad, he can rest against the warm leather. “Adam, I want your door open if you’re going to study in your room. I know what boys your age get up too.” 

“Mom!” Cole squeaks, an embarrassed blush exploding across his face. “Please, you’re embarrassing me.” His mother laughs and Jay feels themselves smile, giggling when Cole pulls his hoodie up to cover his face. He stays that way until they pull into the garage. 

“Now you two go, or you can both put away groceries.” 

Jay and Cole nod simultaneously, chuckling at the sudden shared movement. Cole reaches into the backseats, slinging Jay’s backpack across his other shoulder. Without another word or a backward glance. Cole walks off into the house, leaving Jay trailing along, trying to undo the laces of his boots as zey go. 

 Cole has his own room. The walls are painted a soft pinkish color and there's a small collection of pictures above his bed. Jay stares at them awkwardly while Cole is downstairs, she can hear him talking to another man. There’s a small boy who captures Jay’s attention. He’s staring at her from a picture on Cole’s desk. He has short brown curls and chubby cheeks. His front tooth is missing and Jay leans closer, smiling at the kid's bright blue eyes. “Heh, cute.” She says out loud without thinking. 

“Thanks.” Cole stands in his doorway, holding two glasses of soda. “I was like six in that picture? I think.” He says, nodding to the picture that Jay is holding, she doesn't remember picking it up but she puts it down quick enough. “The man is my grandpa.” 

“Cool.”  He has to do something with his hands, they are heavy and hanging uselessly by his sides. “so…French project?” 

Cole nods, putting the glasses down on the desk. He smiles and Jay smiles back. It's nightfall by the time they finish. Jay has pen marks on his hands and Cole’s mouth is stained in the corner with blank ink, he’s chewing on a straw, reading through the notes the two of them took. 

“You have uh-” Jay rubs at their face with his thumb, swallowing when Cole glances up at her. “Come here.” They don’t mean for it to sound like an order but something swirls in the corner of Cole’s eyes. 

Something that makes Jay want to tangle a hand into his hair and pull it softly, to listen to the sounds he makes. Her mouth feels dry when he crawls closer to her, hands in his lap and head tilted somewhat to the side. “What?” He whispers and Jay feels light headed. 

“You have pen on your mouth…” Jay whispers, letting his legs spread so his thighs brush against his hips. It makes him smile, barely able to repress a shiver at the feeling of Jay’s jeans rubbing against his sweatpants. Jay leans closer, letting a hand rest cautiously against the curve of his face. 

There’s a silent question and Cole nods curtly, barely dipping his chin to his chest before Jay rubs at the corner of his mouth, fingers spreading out against the hinge of his jaw. Cole’s eyes look like they're glossing over as his lips part slightly. 

Black pen ink smudges its way onto Jay’s thumb, staining their pale skin like the way spilled tar stains the ocean. His lips are soft against the calloused skin of his thumb, he smells of cinnamon and his fingers are working their way up Jay’s wrist. His hand is holding theirs. His lips are on hers. 

Jay feels breathless as his eyes flutter closed. Cole’s tongue licks slightly at Jay’s bottom lip, toying with zier lip ring. They want to open their mouths, let him tangle their limbs together. He wants to feel his hands tangling their way through her clothes, fiddling with the flies of his jeans. 

“Adam! Your friend has to go home now!” His mother calls upstairs and it startles Cole’s lips off his. Jay blinks, quiet and startled. “Adam, don't make me come up there!”

“Coming mom!” Adam calls, finally finding his voice as he shifts away to stand. “Sorry.” He whispers, holding his hand nervously out to Jay, who's still sitting surprised on his bedroom floor, face red and lips softly kiss-swollen. 

Jay’s brain whirls into working again, He takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth before taking Cole’s hand. “Don’t be..you’re a really good kisser.”  

The reply makes Cole laugh and Jay joins in, lacing their fingers between his. “We should go downstairs..my moms gonna worry if I'm not back by eight.” Cole checks the clock on the wall and it makes sense why his mother is yelling for them. 

“Okay. I'll come with my mom to drop you home.” 

Jay smiles “Okay.” Cole doesn’t let go of their joined hands until Jay has to tie his shoelaces, in the back of the car.  The two of them sit side by side in the car ride home, looking out the window as Cole’s thumb strokes lines down Jay’s little finger. “It’s the second house on the left..” Jay says when his mother turns into their road. 

“I uh, had a great time tonight.” Jay says when his mother pulls up outside his house. Cole smiles, giving his hand another squeeze. He’s slow to release zeir hand as Jay gets out of the car. Cole closes the door and rolls down the window, resting his chin against the open window. 

“We should do it again sometime. Maybe next time we have another French project?” He tilts his head slightly, tongue darting out to blush against his bottom lip. Jay nods, knowing that he doesn’t mean about powerpoints and posters. 

“I’d like that.” Jay presses his hand quickly to the side of Cole’s face, knocking their foreheads together. There’s the sound of the front door unlocking behind Jay and with a reluctant smile, she pulls away and starts walking up the path, occasionally looking back. 

Cole still has his head out the window like a puppy wanting to feel the wind of its face. Some small makes its way into Jay’s heart as she climbs the porch steps. Matt stands on the doorstep, tapping his fingers impatiently on the door. 

“Did you have a nice time with your new friend?” He asks when Jay is close enough to poke in the side. He raises an eyebrow, watching as Cole pulls himself back into the car and rolls up the window. 

Jay glances over his shoulder, drops his backpack at his big brother's feet and waves. Cole and his mother wave back, only starting to pull away when Jay is across the threshold of the front door. 

Watching through the living room curtains, Jay waves until the car disappears around the corner and into the night. “I did, yes.” She replies simply, squeaking before skipping past Matt and going to his room.

“Well, is there anything to tell us?!” Matt yells upstairs.

“Nope!” 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

TAGGING:

@smallestsnarkestgirl @skyqueen3 @josiewrites @itsnoosetome @jacedoe

@golden-disaster @sincyrlee @glitchaxolol @daddywrasslin @bikenny

@katries @thegizardofmars @motorcitygem @miru-has-thoughts @powderflower

@miserablecreachur @afterdarkprincess @mobiblackout @pinksuperkliq @harvey-dent

@thekadster

[trash-monkey]

Calf's snout, graveyard dust and a bone of an Ibis; a tale of a much different Draco Malfoy

I hum to myself as I stroll down and squeeze by people while seeing what the different stalls are selling in the thrift market today, until a peculiar and strange stall catches my attention as I never seen it here before. A woman in her earlier 30s which she surprisingly still have her young looks with the large hair style from the 90s sitting on a stoll chewing some gum as she reads her magazine while her stall is covered in books, crystals, and dreamcatchers. I stroll up to it and gazed around the book section of the stall which the woman just glanced at me as I do so, I hummed when finding a dark green leather book with Draco Malfoy's name on it in bold golden letters.

"How much?" I asked the woman when seeing the book doesn't have a price on it after skimming through the pages.

"5.50" She spoke around her gum as she takes a sip at her water with a straw which I contemplate on getting the book because of the price but I never seen a book like this so I decided to look it up on my phone, only to get nothing and not even a bad photo of the book on Google.

"Ok, I'll take it." I give her a soft smile as I hand her the money after my phone is back in my pocket and I head to my car before I blow all my money on something else, a minute later I'm heading down the highway on the way home as I have placed the book in the passenger seat before driving off and unknown to me the book fall open. Unlike before the pages are blank and golden words begin to write out themselves on the paper right as a semi truck swerves from the left lane, I immediately hit the brakes as the truck breaks through the concrete barrier into my lane but it's too late and my world goes black.

The first thing I noticed as my conscious fades in is that I'm smelling smoke and that I'm on something hard so I can guess I'm laying on the ground after the crash, must have been thrown through the windshield. Second is that all my muscles in my body is on fire which is expected as I have just been in a crash and third is when I opened my eyes I'm nowhere i should be or who I should be.

"The fuck" I winced at the massive headache I have as I picked myself off the ground only to see the bodies of the Narcissa and Lucius laying prone beside me, dispite the killer headache I slowly reach out to touch Narcissa only to get distracted by my hand or what should be my hands but instead I see a slim and very pale one. Immediately my hands are in my hair feeling the silkiness and almost should length hair instead of the usual thick curliness, it's also pale blond. I take deep breath trying to stop myself from hyperventilating as I reach out for Narcissa shoulder again to shake it but not getting a response although allowing me to realize this actually happening, with wide eyes I gazed around at the destroyed Hogwarts that sits in rubble.

'Something must have happened, something different to throw the timeline off as Draco was supposed to leave with his mother and father after Tom had hugged him but instead they're dead next to me on the ground and I'm Draco.'

"I'm...Draco" It takes a few seconds for it to really sink in on what situation I'm in and in these few seconds I'm in shock.

"fuck this shit, I'm out." I immediately climbed onto my legs completely ignoring that Draco's body which is now mine is screaming at me not to do so but I still got onto my legs dispite that as I don't want to deal with the fucked up world that is Harry Potter no matter how amazing magic is, so I booked it instead.

'Draco must have been under the Crucio curse until he passed out'

I thought as I ran although it's more likely limping down the almost completely broken bridge that leads into the square lot before the Hogwarts front doors which I'm now fully panicking and making the magic inside this body go haywire because of it, I apparitioned into a unknown alley with a crack but I don't realize that I have as I continued on running not taking in my surroundings during my blinding panic.

SSCCRREEEEHH

Unknown to me I had ran out into a muggle traffic and only realized that I have when hearing the screeching of a car trying to stop but once again I'm too late to react, my world gose black with blazing pain.

BEEP...BEEP...BEEP

I groaned and hissed when I go to open my eyes only to be blinded by the sheer brightness of the light as the constant beep has finally awaken me up although it took a few moments to realize and proceed where I am which I immediately sit up in the hospital bed, the room is like any ordinary hospital room.

"Shit" I fall back onto the hospital bed while cursing under my breath with a small hyperventilating-cry when seeing the pale slim arm of Draco Malfoy instead of my actual arm as I was hoping beyond hope that I was just having a lucid dream during a coma but I sadly wasn't, a nurse suddenly comes in.

'Dose nurses have a sixth sense for when you're awake?'

"Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling?" She asked as she stroll over checking everything.

"Fine but confused, how long I was out?"

"Two weeks, you remember what happened?" She smiles at me softly which I made a quick decision that I'll pretend to have amnesia not only because it might be expected after what I even through but would also explain to anyone from the Wizarding World if I happen to meet them in the future why I'm acting very differently then the usual Draco Malfoy, better safe then sorry.

"Uhm....no, what happened?" I give her a frown after I pretended to be thinking and shake my no.

"Ok, I'll be right back with the doctor." She said before quickly leaving allow me time to myself to think before the doctor comes in, I sit up and tried to scoot myself back on the bed only to realize my legs aren't moving like I thought I was.

"Hello, I'm Dr.Woods and Sandy here tells me you don't remember what happened." A tall doctor with graying hair comes in with the nurse from before.

"T-that's right, please tell me what happened? I ...I think I can't move my legs." I'm on the verge of hyperventilating again which isn't a act because my legs ain't moving is actually scaring me so the red headed nurse hands me a cup of water, not only because I'm thirsty but also help me ground myself.

"Which I will but can you tell me your name first?" Dr.Woods sighs as he pulls a pen from his pocket and begin writing on his clipboard.

"Uhm....uhm.... it's.....it's....D...D something." I frown deeper as I 'deflate' and stare at my lap while taking sip from the cup.

"Sandy, get me a list of name starting with D." Sandy gives a nod to Dr.Woods before leaving the room.

"Now, tell me if you can feel this?" He pulls up the sheet over my feet before raking a wooden stick he takes from the medical tool tray up and down my feet but sadly nothing, tears swell up in my eyes at the signs of being parallelized.

"Hey, it's ok while you were in the coma we did some tests which we found out that with patience, practice, and some support you may be able to walk in the future." He covers my feet again at my tears and trys to ease me as finding out you're paralyzed the waist down isn't easy, the nurse comes in.

"Here's the list of names, I want you to look through them carefully and see which one you think is your name." Dr.Woods hands me the clipboard from the nurse before leaving me alone to have some time to get myself back together, I shakily look down on the name as I gasp for air through my sobbing.

_______________________________________________

[percontaion-points]

Jocelyn's Choice Prologue & chapter 1

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series! 

Prologue

I’d thrown up twice since starting the test, but I was getting used to that. I had been throwing up for over two weeks now. 

At first, I thought it was just the stress I felt over him leaving.

Girl, literally no boy is worth that much stress. 

Two pink lines . . . no shock there. I even knew exactly when it happened. The day of the week, and where we were. But, how did I let this happen? I knew the answer to that too.

Prologue summary: It’s a short little blurb, the almost face-palm worthy glimpse into the future. Of stuff we already know because the book cover and blurb on the back give it away. An unnamed character (who is obviously the titular Jocelyn, but this is never actually said), takes a pregnancy test. She isn’t surprised that it’s positive, yet here we are. 

Chapter 1

We lived about an hour from Denver, Colorado, in a small town, in a little two-bedroom house I shared with my father, Max, the town’s Police Chief. I often referred to him as Max behind his back, a habit I picked up as a child. He worked long hours, hung out with his friends, and liked to watch an unhealthy amount of sports.

It’s not even fucking pretending like this isn’t Twilight fanfic. 

I opened the fridge and smiled, shaking my head at Sarah’s thoughtfulness. My own father probably had no idea I drank iced tea. It wasn’t Max's fault; he just wasn’t very observant when it came to me. My mother had walked out when I was two, and Max hadn’t been prepared to raise me alone.

“It isn’t my dad’s fault he doesn’t know anything about me!” 

100% falsehoods and lies. The man is a single parent; he should fucking know everything about his daughter. 

There is no excuse for this. This isn’t cute and adorable and “men being men”. This is vile and straight up neglect at this point. 

Evan and I were lab partners for the year. At first, I was scared to death to open my mouth, but once I got to know him, I realized he wasn’t just the typical, good-looking rich kid I’d always perceived him to be. He was smart, funny, caring, and a really good friend. After a few days, we hit it off, and I was glad to have him in my life. 

[...]

He extended his hand, which I awkwardly shook. It was soft and warm, and I had an incredible urge to touch more of him. "Nice to meet you, Jocelyn Andrews. I’m Alex Jordan, but you already knew that." 

I nodded. I was too mesmerized to do anything else. I didn’t know what had come over me. I had never reacted this way to any guy, but then again, not many guys had paid much attention to me. 

“Not many guys paid attention to me”? Bitch, Evan is literally right there!

"Not long enough to ask Jocelyn out." Alex smiled at me. 

Is he kidding? He wants to ask me out? 

"She won’t go out with you," Evan answered for me.

 "Why not?" Alex asked.

 "You’re too old for her," he said.

 "I’m twenty-three." Alex finished the apple. 

That's only five years, I thought. 

Look. My husband and I have a six year age gap. 

But do you want to know the difference between this relationship and my own? I MET MY HUSBAND WHEN I WAS 27. 

SHE’S 18, AND STILL IN HIGH SCHOOL. HE’S GOT A FUCKING BACHELOR’S DEGREE. DO YOU SEE THE PROBLEM THAT I’M HAVING HERE?!

"Adorable." Evan rolled his eyes. I was picking up a strange vibe from him, like he didn’t want me to accept Alex’s invitation.

TEAM EVAN. 

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, TEAM ANYBODY WHO ISN’T A PREDATORY COLLEGE GRADUATE HITTING ON HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS. 

"It was nice meeting you, Jocelyn Andrews," he said, as he disappeared from sight.

Chapter 1 summary: We’re introduced to the story by an awful lot of showing instead of telling. For around two pages. Jocelyn is partnered up with a boy named Evan Jordan in her senior science class, and then becomes friends with his entire family. Said entire fucking family and all of their close friends are also immediately flung at us. However, as I mentioned, this is straight up told to us right out of the gate without anything interesting about it… Nor connection to fucking anybody. Say what you will about the endless parade of characters in Icebreaker… At least Icebreaker eased us into all of those characters in like 5 chapters. Not two pages. 

Anyway, Evan has an older brother who has already graduated from college, but is looking to get into medicine. He comes home one summer to do some sort of online program his dad arranged. He meets Jocelyn while she’s over doing a project with Evan, and is quick to ask her out. Evan seems edgy over the entire thing, which I would take as the first goddamned red flag of this relationship. But, Jocelyn is basically the “unkissed virgin” trope, and welcomes all and any attention… no matter how predatory it may be. 

[buttonupzebraa]

TW: Child abuse, broken furniture, bl00d, flashbacks

I don't think people understand how much work it takes to not be like your abusive parents.

To grow up and get help and learn that, "Suzie, it isn't normal for people to yell and break furniture and expect you to clean it up when they are angry." To understand that your 'everyday life' was actually a nonstop horror show followed by brief moments of sunlight and peace only when you, the abused, are most docile. And to feel like the moment the other shoe drops it is because something you did.

I've been in therapy over a decade, and I'm proud to say this is the healthiest I've ever been and the people around me are proud and recognize it. But I'm also learning each day that A LOT of things I internalized aren't normal.

The hardest part for me is when something happens and my response, which I genuinely thought was okay, is an orange flag.

Long story short yesterday morning, in the course of the 15 minutes after waking up, my neighbor from hell was at it again. To the point where I'm on the other side of my apartment trying to take a shit and all I hear is my dog barking at the noise, THE LOUD ASS NOISE, and other neighbors banging on the wall for that neighbor to shut up.

That neighbor didn't care, they even got louder. We had this problem since June. Usually I lift my tiny vintage night table that keeps my books and water, off the ground and bang the bottom on the floor so that they stop (shitty neighbors live right under me).

Yesterday, I was so angry at this happening still, after 5 months of communication and doing everything possible to have the issue resolved. I lifted that tiny night table, and in moments it became a pile of broken wood and shattered porcelain.

I LOVED that table. It was the first thing I bought for myself when we got this apartment. Now, it was shattered because of the sheer force of me banging it on the floor to shut the neighbors up. I haven't broken a piece of furniture since I was 13 and my mother kidnapped me. I broke a glass panel on the coffee table trying to reach the phone to call for help. My mother disconnected all the phone lines so the last phone working was between me, her, and the coffee table. I remember my small hand dripping with blood and picking out the glass shards while my mom took a scissor and cut the phone line. And then left me there with a dead phone in my hand while she went into her room. And you know what my first thought seeing the broken table was? "Well, I'm not like my parent because I broke my own property and not someone else's and I'm cleaning it up."

My wife witnessed this whole thing, and made me talk to her as I cleaned up the mess I made. I felt so much shame and embarrassment that seeing broken porcelain and splintered wood on the floor, my response was, "This was every fucking week for me as a kid. My step brother and I cleaning up broken glass from shit being thrown at us all the time during arguments we had nothing to do with. And this was just what happened on good days before I was even 10."

I told my wife that I never want people to go through an inkling of what I experienced. And that seeing her look at me with such concern, at something I thought was normal because it was my accidental mess and I'm cleaning it up, really put into perspective that shit that was normalized is not okay.

I shouldn't be living in a environment that I have to bang my furniture on the ground to live in somewhat peace. I have coping skills for big feelings, and 99% of the time use them, I should be in an environment where I have access to those. I recognize breaking the table was an accident, but I should also be aware that's it's an orange flag to think that it's not a big deal because I broke my own things. I'm not abusive but I shouldn't be destroying my own shit. That's a form of self harm.

Yesterday was a breaking point and we've wholeheartedly decided to move. But it also was a scary realization at the ongoing conscious decisions I make to not perpetuate those cycles of abuse, and how what I thought was 'normal' was not normal. I take full accountability that I fucked up, but also that I shouldn't be in a position that banging furniture to shut the neighbors up is 'normal'. Nothing is normal about this.

I feel a lot of shame now that I'm finally opening up about what my mother actually did to me and what it was like being abducted by a parent. But also actually talking about it, recognizing the magnitude of just how bad things were (literally wasn't allowed to close doors in the house and got the snot beat out of me if I did), is important for healing.

I feel really vulnerable for sharing that I broke a fucking table because it makes me feel like my abuser because I broke something. But I think the difference is that I actually feel shame, remorse, and understanding of what I did was wrong. And my mother chalked up all her behavior to "my house, my rules, if you don't like it you can move out".

I'm still unpacking a lot of horrors, I'm still growing and healing, but I'm never going to give up on being better than my abusive fucking parents.

[noteguk]

bad behavior | jjk | m

This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone. 

— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while. 

— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day 

— words; 8.2k

— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple 

It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from. 

In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea. 

You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids. 

So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings. 

The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons. 

You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon. 

It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place. 

One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body. 

“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”

You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.” 

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes. 

Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect. 

Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot. 

But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really. 

“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?” 

Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.” 

You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled. 

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.” 

His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.” 

“And what is?” You asked. 

“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.” 

You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.” 

Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.” 

You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container. 

Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”

“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.” 

Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.” 

You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.” 

“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”

You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?” 

Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”

You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”

“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.” 

He frowned. “Is that your answer?” 

You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”

“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?” 

“Because I like giving back to the community.” 

Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.” 

“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.” 

He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?” 

You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”

He smiled. “Not the point.” 

Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”

“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.” 

“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”

“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?” 

“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.” 

“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?” 

“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.” 

“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.” 

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment. 

Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily. 

In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”

Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious. 

“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“ 

“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.” 

“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.” 

You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully. 

“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.” 

“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive. 

“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?” 

“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.” 

He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave? 

No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all. 

Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.” 

You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?” 

Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin. 

“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”

Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.” 

Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”

“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.” 

This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.” 

“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?” 

You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly. 

Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”

“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.” 

When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?” 

“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?” 

“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.” 

“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”

“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.” 

“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.” 

Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”

“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.” 

You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”

And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like. 

His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh. 

Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening. 

“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”

But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—” 

“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?” 

You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable. 

“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.” 

Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.” 

He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded. 

Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought. 

“Turn around for me,” he asked. 

You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.

The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.” 

Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”

“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked. 

You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat. 

“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?” 

“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.” 

“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”

He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.” 

You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.” 

But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”

“Y-Yeah.”  

Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.” 

After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”

“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.” 

There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation. 

“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface. 

Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.” 

Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”

You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”

“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.” 

“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.” 

You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank. 

So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed. 

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?” 

“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.” 

“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.” 

Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you. 

“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state.  “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.” 

You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his. 

Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that. 

He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?” 

“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways. 

“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.” 

Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him. 

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.” 

The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...” 

“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?” 

“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.” 

And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.” 

You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.” 

He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.” 

“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.” 

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”

Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm. 

At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.” 

“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat. 

Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home. 

You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…” 

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.” 

You frowned. “Why?”

“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?” 

“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?” 

Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.” 

~ 

The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises. 

Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum. 

You, of course, promptly accepted it. 

“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”

“How much?” You asked. 

“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.” 

“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place. 

“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”

You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”  

“And, by the way?” 

“Yeah?”

“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”

“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time. 

~ 

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

TAGLIST: 

@taehyungieskith​ @fan-ati--c​ @btstrasht​ @crazy4myself​ @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky

[captnjacksparrow]

I found it funny nowadays how we're not allowed to dislike certain female characters because that makes us "misogynist". Umm no??? I don't dislike a certain female character because she's a girl. I dislike her because she's an asshole (and so is a majority of her fanbase).

There is this Wonderful Quora writer named Kelsey L Hayes (Kelsey).

She mostly writes about ASOIAF novels AKA Game of Thrones TV series (GoT). You could say, she is my writing idol. Also you could see how my write ups and thought process almost mirrors the following pic (from one of her recent answers).

She says... “If your mother says she loves you, Check it out”. I don’t take things at face value....

I say... “If Sasuke says ‘I’ll Kill you’ to Naruto, Check it out”. I don’t take things at value value....

She says “I considered other people’s perspectives than Dany’s. Obviously, she thinks she’s punishing the right people and making the world a better place, but not everyone around her would agree, and their perspectives are just as valuable and important to consider as hers, even if they aren’t major characters “.

I say... “I considered other people’s perspectives than Uchihas. Obviously, they think that they are punishing the right people and making the world a better place, but not everyone around them would agree, and their perspectives are just as valuable and important to consider as them, even if they aren’t major characters”.

And Kelsey is a journalist and hence her write-ups are thoroughly professional and yet enjoyable with full of facts. Not only did I learnt the way of writing and analyzing scenes from her, but also I learnt how to pick up media subtleties, hints, foreshadowing, how to grasp all-over meta themes and such.

When the entire fandom was mesmerized and drenched in the Kool Aid made by Dany (a popular character from GOT), Kelsey was one of the very few and foremost person in the fandom to propose a Theory of "Dany is gonna be a Dictator who is gonna burn millions of people".... That too many many years before (2013)... Before the show was about to be completed in 2019.

Back then every Dany stans called her "A Bitch", "A Misogynist", "Pro-Slavery Hoe" and some more abuses thrown at her way... Most of these accusations are from Women... Because Dany stans are fucking unhinged and rabid assholes. I must say Sakura stans are miles better, tbh.

But Kelsey without putting those harsh words in her mind, she kept on writing more and more by pointing out her theories using the Book Quotes in a clear, Objective and no-nonsense way.

As time passes by, her theory started to make sense day by day and other people also started to find Dany as this spooky character. ((Count me along them))

And guess what.... Kelsey was abso-fucking-lutely right. Dany indeed ended up committing a genocide without an inch of regret. Mind you, Dany was a celebrated character with millions of stans. But ended up becoming the main villain of the series. Twitter, Reddit got a big meltdown after the reveal... Whereas, we, Quorans were eating the popcorn and watching the shitshow with a proud smirk..

See??? The same bad writing & feminism bullshit Dany stans pulled out from their asses back in 2019... They even started to call the Author as a misogynist because, "The Author made their UwUwU Saviour into a villain"...

Now tell me, Who is a misogynist, in this case??? Kelsey who refused to drink Dany Kool Aid or those women who bullied Kelsey for writing the truth???

I'll tell you... Most of these so-called women don't even really care or empathize with other women... They are just unhinged mobs who wouldn't hesitate to put down another woman for their own benefit... But when things goes wrong, then they cleverly hide under the Gender Blanket and play victims... Such a Low Life Filthy Cowards.

So, being called as a Misogynist for hating a female character is not new to me... Been there done before... I feel really proud to be labelled as a Misogynist, if that female character is an absolute asshole. 

[alrightberries]

Hi! So like what if Levi & F!Reader are like cuddling, and Levi over slept (maybe misses a meetings?) and Eren and his squad have to go find him and they see Reader and Levi all cuddly and stuffs. AND THEN Levi become super pissed bc they went into his quarters without permission and blah blah blah (you can decide the rest lolll) basically crack, fluff and humor lol. Please& thank uuu

the short end of the stick

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 3.3k

❈ summary: In which the 104th cadets were not prepared to find out that the terrifying and ever-intimidating Captain Levi... is a little spoon.

❈ trigger warnings: implied sex. brief mentions of blood and death. profanity

a/n: i made the reader gender neutral, hope y’all don’t mind. i had too much fun writing this and got kinda carried away. this is my first request ever and i’m glad that i finished it. enjoy!

Eren was shaking.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and his knuckles turned white from how hard he was clenching his fists, nails piercing his skin so harshly he swore it would draw blood. His heart angrily pumped inside his chest, every beat so strong he nearly anticipated for it to jump out of his ribcage at any given moment.

Fear.

He felt fear.

He puts a name to the feeling and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Ears ringing, lungs breathing rapidly as he tries to steady his fear-induced heart. He was hyperventilating. His eyebrows crease from his anxiousness and he feels his knees weaken, daring to give out beneath him. Was he actually shaking right now? He couldn’t even tell.

Vulnerable.

He felt vulnerable.

Eren had seen many horrors throughout his short lifetime. He saw the colossal titan rear its ugly head over Wall Maria as its foot smashed into the wall’s gates, debris flying throughout the district as a boulder crushed his home with his mother still inside. He saw his mother get snapped in half and eaten by a titan right before his very eyes at a tender age as he sat by and could do nothing but watch.

He was orphaned. Forced to grow up too soon, too fast just so he could say he survived. His entire district was left homeless, forced to become refugees as titans rampaged throughout the outer walls, forced plow the fields to combat the famine and hunger, forced to have 250,000 people go on what was essentually a suicide mission to appease the growing population.

He trained in the military. He trained for three gruesome years and had his physical and mental psyche crushed into dust beneath the boots of the commanding officer, only to be thrown into a battle—completely unprepared— with the titans once more before he could even graduate.

He saw his friends, his family, his brothers and sisters in arms get eaten. Killed. Murdered. Swatted away like flies by the very beasts he swore he’d kill.

And yet, nothing could prepare him for this.

Nothing could prepare him for the blood-pumping, adrenaline-induced terror at the mere thought of having to carry out his mission.

Nothing could prepare him for having to wake up Captain Levi from his nap.

Jean groaned. “Dammit, just fucking do it already.”

Eren is snapped out of his reverie, suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone. His fellow soldiers stood behind him.

“Well if you’re so brave then why don’t you do it, horse-face?” He grits back, turning around and clenching his fists at his side.

He glimpses around the hallway and his eyes loom over his teammates’ amused faces, each painted with a shit-eating grin. Everyone was relieved that they weren’t the ones tagged with waking up the Captain from his nap.

Rumor around the base is, the last person from his original squadron (may they rest in peace) who had to wake up Captain Levi almost had his ear sliced off. Levi wasn’t even carrying any gear or anywhere near a knife.

One look at Mikasa told Eren that even she was glad she didn’t get picked for this task, and he shudders at the thought of being the poor bastard who had to lose his ear just so the Captain wouldn’t be late for his meeting. He quite liked having both of his ears attached to his head, thank you very much.

“It’s your task.”

“Yeah but why is it my task?!”

“Because you drew the short end of the stick, genius.” Jean replies easily.

Oh. Right.

“There has to be something we can do! Another plan. One that doesn’t involve waking up Captain Levi.” His eyes are pleading as he looks at his fellow soldiers, yet none of them seem willing to switch places with him.

Dammit. They were really going to make him work for it.

All his dignity is thrown out the window as Eren quickly gets on his knees and starts begging his friends, the shit-eating grins on their faces turning into wicked smiles as they watch him beg for mercy.

“Mikasa? What about you? Are you seriously going to let them send me to my death?” He asks, but Mikasa simply turns her head the other way as she speaks.

“He won’t kill you. Just sever your ear.”

Eren’s eye twitches.

She looks at him once more. “I’ll pick up your ear and ask the medical unit to sew it back on you. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

As proof, she holds up a glass jar and some tweezers. She had gloves on her hands.

God, he was going to kill his teammates.

Jean, apparently fed up with Eren’s incessant whining, marches towards him and grabs him by the collar, forcing him to stand up.

“Yeager, you trained in the military for three years. You’re a goddam titan shifter. You got kidnapped and held hostage. Three times. Waking up a growth-stunted man won’t be the last of you.”

Jean’s words are reassuring but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. No, his eyes are still amused. Very amused.

Scratch that, he wasn’t going to kill all his comrades. Just Jean. Jean and his extremely punchable horse-face.

Before he could even reply, Eren is shoved inside the Captain’s office with a quick “Off you go!” and the door is quickly shut behind him.

Fear.

This was truly fear.

Captain Levi’s office is empty, Eren notices. It’s spotless as always and tall shelves line every wall, each filled to the brim with books and documents. A lone door sits at the far right wall.

The Captain’s bedroom.

Slowly, with bathed breaths, he forces his legs to walk closer to the door that held his fate. Briefly, Eren thinks about getting some protective ear covers (just in case) but he quickly shoves that idea aside when he realizes that Jean and Conny were likely blocking the door from the outside.

That, and he concludes that the Captain would just break another part of his body. Maybe his hands. He didn’t need ears for handling ODM gear but he did need his hands.

“Captain?” Eren’s voice is weak but clear as he knocks on the door. “Captain Levi, you’re late for your meeting.”

He holds his breath for a few seconds, and there’s no response. He tries once more.

“Captain,” he repeats, louder this time. “Captain, you really need to wake up. Commander Erwin says your attendance is required for the meeting to start.”

But there’s still no response.

His hands are shaky and he’s still extremely nervous, but he knew Captain Levi’s presence was urgent to the meeting. Classified, Commander Erwin had said when he asked what it was about. 

The third time Eren repeats his fruitless endeavors, he realizes that Captain Levi really wasn’t waking up any time soon.

He runs back to the door he came in from.

“Let me out!” He yells, hands throttling the doorknob as he tries to pull the door open but just as he suspected, Jean and Conny are sealing the exit and pulling at the doorknob as well.

“Let me out, dammit! Captain Levi won’t wake up, I don’t wanna die— just let me out!”

His feet are pressed up against the wall at this point and he manages to yank the door open by a few mere inches. A quick glimpse outside confirms his worse fears: all his friends are holding onto the doorknob as well, trying to keep the door closed. Even Mikasa.

He’d never felt so betrayed.

“You got this Eren!” His eyes drift to the back of the group where Sasha was smiling at him with a cheeky grin. “I’m sure the Captain won’t hurt you too badly when you wake him up.”

“No, fuck that! He’ll murder me and say it was because I went ape shit in titan form. He won’t even get arrested!”

It was when he made eye contact with Mikasa when he realized what true betrayal felt like.

“Good luck, Eren.” “No, don’t—!” Mikasa yanks the door close with one strong pull and he falls to the floor, on his ass.

The room is quite once more (save for the cheeky giggles on the other side of the door) and Eren brushes himself off as he stands up. He eyes the door to the Captain’s bedroom and he breathes in deeply when he comes to terms with what he has to do to wake the Captain from his deep slumber. He has to go inside.

He finds himself in front of the door once again, and this time his knocks are a little louder, a little more unsure, as he speaks. “Captain? I don’t think you’re waking up soon. I’m coming in.”

Slowly, he tells himself. Slowly.

Eren wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door to Captain Levi’s quarters. Maybe a torture chamber. Maybe swords and skeletons on the wall. Maybe a book on How To Murder With One Glare on a coffee table. He didn’t know.

But oddly, he thinks as he glances around, the Captain’s bedroom is... normal. The room’s dark, with its curtains drawn and the candles unlit. Tall shelves holding an impressive collection of books still line a portion of the walls. A bed is pressed up against the wall opposite the door, and there are two lumps underneath the blankets—

Wait.

Two lumps.

Two.

Captain Levi’s in bed with someone?

“Captain Levi,” Eren quietly calls out. He wonders who the hell managed to catch the Captain’s attention... or if someone even caught his attention at all. Captain Levi could just be hugging a pillow, he reasons. But Eren’s curiosity overtakes his fears and his legs start to walk closer towards the bed. “Captain?”

The blanket was pulled over the two sleeping lumps, and Eren gently tugs it down to reveal their faces.

No way.

No fucking way.

Briefly, Eren is speechless. His words get caught in his throat, hand frozen mid-air as he marvels at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier cuddled up within the arms of his lover. His normally stoic face is gone, replaced by relaxed eyes and a slightly ajar mouth, one cheek puffed up as it’s squished into his lover’s chest and his head is nuzzled into the crook of their neck. His arms disappear underneath the blankets, but judging by the fact that his lover’s arms were around him, Eren surmised that the Captain’s arms were most likely wrapped around his lover as well.

He looked innocent— cute, almost, and if Eren didn’t have to train under him everyday he might have actually believed that the Captain’s innocent sleeping face could be taken at face value.

Eren recognizes you, as well. He’s seen you around the base with your own squadron, an elite soldier with your own team of other elite soldiers. You’re known around the base as the squad leader who works their team to the ground, training your members so hard that they genuinely considered going to Captain Levi for comfort. But it wasn’t for naught, of course. Your squad’s survived longer than Captain Levi’s (again, may they rest in peace), barely making it out complete when the fiasco with the Female Titan occurred.

“Oi, Eren.” A voice behind him speaks, and Eren is briefly caught off guard as he turns around and makes eye contact with his comrades. Most likely, they got impatient with waiting for him and decided to see if he’d been murdered already.

Great, so now they decide they weren’t scared of going inside the Captain’s room.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean asks.

Eren is still speechless, opting to instead shakily point his finger towards the bed where Levi lay wrapped in your arms.

“H-he’s... he’s—“ “He’s what?”

He gulps and sighs deeply, speaking out so quietly his friends almost didn’t hear, speaking out in a mere shaky whisper as he utters his words.

“He’s a little spoon.”

Chaos is what Eren would use to describe what happened next. His comrades immediately jumped to stand next to him and take a look at the sight on bed, crowding around them as if they were a soap opera.

“Oh my god, he looks so...” Sasha starts in awe, hands on her cheeks and stars in her eyes but unsure how to finish her words.

Eren nods his head, understanding her speechlessness. “Innocent.”

Silently, his friends nod as well. But he couldn’t just stand here and gawk at Captain Levi’s sleeping form, he came here with a mission. “We need to wake him up. He’s already really late.” He says, more to himself than to his friends. He doesn’t wait for his comrades to exit the room as he gently places a hand on the Captain’s shoulders to shake him awake.

“Captain Levi—“

Eren learns his mistake too late as Levi’s eyes immediately snap open, hand clamping down on Eren’s and twisting it behind his back to disarm him.

“Eren!” Mikasa yells behind him, making a move to free him from Levi’s iron clad grip. From the corner of his eyes, Eren sees the person lying down next to Levi quickly sit up and throw something silver, flying past his comrades and towards Mikasa’s head, embedding itself deep within the wood next to her face.

Eren stares at his friends, all silent, frozen with fear, and rooted to their spots as their mouths hang open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Levi sneers, pushing down on Eren’s arm.

“C-captain, you’re late for the—“ “Holy shit, we’re late for the meeting.” You cut in, eyes wide in realization.

The Captain briefly glimpses at you and clicks his tongue as he releases Eren from his grip, the young soldier immediately slumping to the ground in relief. His arms and legs felt like jello and he could already feel himself melting into the wooden floor.

“Can someone explain to me why you brats thought it would be a good idea to enter my private quarters?” Levi glares. “Without my permission?”

Oh shit. They didn’t think this through.

A cold shiver runs down the soldier’s spines as they unanimously realize their mistake, something that Eren undoubtedly would’ve felt as well if he wasn’t too busy gawking at the realization that Captain Levi was shirtless (probably naked underneath the sheets), and you were shirtless as well (also probably naked underneath the sheets).

Levi catches Eren’s eyes staring at you, and he silently pulls the blanket over your chest and up to your collarbones without breaking his glare at the cadets.

Fuck. Eren thinks, eyes snapping to the ground as a blush creeps up his neck. Captain Levi’s definitely going to cut off both my ears now.

Conny, apparently already cracking under the pressure, flails his arms and yells as he tries to make a run for the door. Before anyone could even blink, another silver blur whizzes through the air, stabbing the wood directly in front of Conny as he freezes.

It was a knife. A fucking butter knife. Why the hell the Captain and his lover keep a butterknife next to them on the bed is something Eren doesn’t want to know.

“Since none of you lot have tongues,” Levi speaks. He’s not going to get an explanation soon. “We’ll discuss punishment later. For now,” He stands up, grabbing a still flustered Eren by the collar and dragging him towards the door, pushing out the rest of the team as well.

Eren doesn’t have time to be relieved about the fact that Captain Levi was not, for a fact, naked and was wearing black boxers. He was too busy getting pushed out the Captain’s bedroom and dragged through the office before finally getting thrown out into the hallway.

“For now, you leave me alone. I have a meeting to attend to.”

Levi slams the door shut at his awestruck soldiers, breathing in a frustrated sigh as he rests his hand on his forehead. He was getting a headache. He feels arms wrap around him from behind, hands resting on his chest. He sighs once more, this time in content, as he leans into your touch.

“Hey,” you kiss neck. “Thought you said you locked the door.”

“I did.” He turns around, still in your arms, and gently places his hands on your face as he kisses your nose. “Someone must’ve accidentally unlocked it when they were trying to grab onto something. Y’know, when they were getting fucked from behind.”

You chuckle. “Well, I’m sure that someone probably got sweet talked into getting fucked against the door.”

You break away from his arms after giving him a kiss, making your way back inside Levi’s bedroom, no doubt to get dressed for the meeting.

He stares at you as you walk, still naked and looking gorgeous. His face may be stoic but his heart was leaping, the gold ring on your left hand that matched his own glimmering in the light.

Your head peaks out from behind his bedroom door. “Round two before the meeting?” You ask cheekily.

Levi rolls his eyes as he makes his way to the bedroom as well, patting your bum as he passes by. “No. We’re already late.”

Eren clutches the pillow to his head, exhausted from the laps he’d done. He glances around the room, eyeing the tired faces of his comrades.

As punishment for invading your privacy, Captain Levi assigned them laps around the base until sundown plus two weeks of stable duty. As punishment for invading his privacy, Captain Levi deemed them unworthy of having their own private space and made the entire squadron bunk together in the small room beside his own. 

Well, the entire squadron except for the Captain himself, at least.

Eren was pretty sure the room they were made to sleep in indefinitely was supposed to be a supply closet of some kind, but it fitted enough bunk beds for the entire team and was deemed a worthy location to carry out the rest of their punishment.

“How long do we have to sleep here?” Sasha asked dreadfully, hands covering her ears in attempts to block out the noises coming from the other room. The sound of a squeaky mattress and a wooden bed slamming against the adjacent wall continued.

“Until we learn our lesson,” Jean quotes the Captain. He himself looked extremely tired but he wasn’t trying to cover his ears like the rest of them were, undoubtedly because he’d already given up on getting a good night’s rest if the bags underneath his eyes were anything to go by.

“I don’t even care how long we have to sleep here anymore.” Conny interjects tiredly. “I just want to know when they’ll ever stop.”

As if to prove his point, a moan is heard through the walls. The soldiers flinch, still not accustomed to the sound. Mikasa silently runs her hands through Eren’s hair to calm him down.

“They’ve been at it for hours,” Jean whispers in horror. “How much stamina do those two have?”

Armin sighs, the bags under his eyes feeling heavier by the second. “They’re elite soldiers who’ve trained for years. They have more stamina than all of us combined.”

The whole room heaves out a collective groan, finally accepting that they weren’t getting any sleep tonight. 

In the other room, Captain Levi bangs his fist against the shared wall. “Oi,” he calls out. “Shut up, you brats. We can hear you.”

Levi thrusts his hips, eyes glancing down at your pleasure-struck face as he grinds into you more. The action causes you to throw your head back and let out a desperate moan, finger nails scratch down his back. He grabs your hands to pin them to the sides of your head, leaning down to whisper “Not too harsh, darling. We don’t want you leaving marks now, do we?” He continues his pace, the bed’s wooden frame slamming against the wall as he once again speaks to his soldiers.

“We have thin walls, y’know.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[cowboycakes]

Do You Get My Letters

✥ Pairing: Levi x fem!Reader, somewhat Reiner x fem!Reader

✥ Themes: Fluff, angst, sadness, big ass plot twist

✥ Warnings: Female bodied reader (she/her pronouns,) Pregnancy and birth (nothing gory.) Mentions of death, violence, and threats. Manipulation.

✥ Synopsis: You are carrying Reiner's baby when he betrays Paradis. Levi decides to step in.

✥ Word Count: 2.2k

(there is a part two up to this fic, but i've decided i'm going to rewrite the ending at some point.)

Anon's Request: Hi! I saw your requests are open so here I want to give my little scenario a try! 🕳🤸🏽‍♀️ I thought abt this last night, I’m currently rewatching AOT after 6 yrs and yet to finish season 4, so sorry if I’m wrong abt timelines/the plot? My request is the reader was with child with Reiner, but b4 reader told him, he betrayed and exposed his mission. Levi stepped in to help reader. And btw, I just finished watching ep 3 of season 4, so maybe Eren telling reiner abt his child and he regrets leaving the reader? And reiner jealous at the fact Levi is most likely considered his child’s father at that point. I can’t come up with an ending, so I’ll leave it up to you if you do take in my request. If this isn’t your type of writing I totally understand!

Note: This story is canon divergent. It is set in season 4, but in a universe where Reiner is not revealed as a traitor/the armored titan until a few months before season 4 takes place, as the reader was having relations with him until then and did not know his secret. I’m sorry if that change bothers you, I just wanted to write this as sort of its own story. This story contains season 4 spoilers! It also has nothing to do with the canon ending of AOT.

---

Dear Reiner,

I hope this letter somehow gets to you, I don’t quite know where to start.

In a perfect world, I would be so happy to tell you this. You’d be ecstatic too, I think. And before you try to second guess me: I’m sure by now, don’t worry.

I’m pregnant.

I guess we weren’t careful enough before you left. I feel like an idiot. And lost. But I’m not hopeless. I know myself, I can make it work somehow. With or without you.

I’m still in shock about you. How could someone so close hide so much? You’re a talented spy I suppose, a great asset to Marley. You made me trust you with my entire life. You made me love every false thing about you. And this is the rude awakening I get in return.

I’ll raise our child to value honesty and kindness, all in spite of you.

Sincerely,

Reader

---

The paper was damp with tears after you lifted your pen for a final time. You wished you could just keep the whole thing a secret: go make a quiet life for yourself somewhere else. It wouldn’t be right. Not after all of the dishonesty that man had spewed to you over the past few years. You had to tell him.

The door to the office room you’d settled in to write the letter creaks open. It’s Levi. He looks at your puffy eyes somberly, sympathetic. He was the first person you had told about the entire situation. Not because you were close, just because you needed help.

You fold your letter and stick it into a sturdy envelope. Levi takes it in his hand.

“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve a thing from you. Not a letter. Certainly not tears,” Levi says, using a clean handkerchief to wipe a stray drop from your cheek, “but I am proud of you.”

You take the handkerchief from him, feeling more tears stream down your face.

“Proud? I’m a fucking idiot,” you say through your sobs.

“Don’t even try to pull that self pity shit with me. Things happen sometimes. And you’re strong enough to commit to getting through it,” he responds.

You stand up, pushing your chair out. You look at him as you dry your face off again.

“I’m alone. How the hell am I supposed to do this shit alone?”

“You are not alone,” Levi replies. You’re shocked when he pulls you into a hug. “I’m going to help.”

You had never seen this side of him before. You look at him as you pull away slowly, tears still welled in your eyes.

“Are you sure? That's a big burden, Levi. None of this has to involve you.”

“Not the biggest burden I’ve ever taken on,” he shrugs. “There’s a lot of death around here, Y/N. Everyone is going to be happy about the little bit of life you’re giving us.”

You chuckle. He’s cynical, but he’s right.

He licks the envelope as he walks toward the door.

“Want me to run you a hot bath or something? Is that the type of shit pregnant people need?” he asks.

You laugh, a little harder than normal. It felt so relieving to laugh.

“Sure, Captain,” you respond softly.

---

Dear Reader,

I received your letter before the battle in Marley. I actually got to hand it to Reiner myself. He knows everything now. He broke down in front of me after reading it, going on about how much he regrets everything. How he wishes he could change things and be there for you. He begged me to kill him right there.

The world will eventually not have suffering like what you are going through now.

Eren Jaeger

---

Your jaw had dropped reading it. He begged me to kill him.

You hand the letter Levi had just delivered back to him. He reads it with a furrowed brow.

“Do you think…” you begin, your voice shaky, “do you think I could send another letter?”

Levi purses his lips, “Possibly. I can ask Jaeger. But right now, you need to bring your blood pressure back down.”

You were over seven months along now. You had found out about your pregnancy late, after being in denial for four whole months. Hange insisted on checking you out after you’d thrown up every morning for a week.

Levi had since gone on a parenting book reading spree; he made you read several of them too. He knew just about everything you needed to do to make a healthy baby: what to eat, what not to eat, how to exercise, when to go to the doctor, etc. It was really sweet how much he cared. You knew it gave him hope, something to fight for, something to come home to.

You were terrified when he left for Marley. You kissed him for the first time when he returned. Just about everyone you knew had to fight. You wished you could be out there fighting with them like you were supposed to. Maybe you could have made a difference.

Levi takes your hand, squeezing it to bring you out of your thoughts.

“What can I do?” he asks.

“Get me a glass of wine,” you grumble.

“Absolutely not.”

---

Dear Reiner,

Reader does not know I’m sending this. So keep it that way, or I’ll kill your sorry ass. Or maybe not, you’d probably enjoy that. In that case I’ll get creative.

How does it feel? Being a fucking deadbeat? Is it everything you’d thought it’d be and more? Fucking her and leaving her with nothing, like she belongs in a whorehouse. Reminds me of what happened to my mother. Pieces of shit like you came in and sent her to her death, leaving her kid behind to starve.

I wasn’t about to let her suffer like my mother did. But you were. I’m glad your choices haunt you, Reiner. You fucking deserve it.

I’ll be there for the both of them from now on, doing everything you were never capable of. She’s due any day now, I’m sure she’ll try to write to you.

Levi

---

You feel your first contraction while napping on the couch with Levi. You were settled in between his legs, your back leaning up against his chest. He had his hands on your stomach; he loved to feel the baby kick and tell them some of the happier stories in his memories.

The two of you had grown so close over the past few months. You slept together every night now. You didn’t want to leave each other’s sides if you didn’t have to. Levi would cuddle and massage you any time your pregnant body was ailing you.

You had fantasized with him about life after the war. He wanted to be a husband, a father, to live peacefully in the countryside. And he wanted more than anything for you to join him.

The first contraction wasn’t painful enough for you to make much more than a grunting noise, but Levi woke up the second he felt your stomach contort a bit. He was on very high alert these days.

“Holy… shit…is that what I think it is?” Levi whispers, “Don’t answer. I’m getting Hange.”

He crawls out from behind you and sprints out of the room.

The pain worsens and becomes much more frequent while he’s out looking for Hange. You stand up eventually after getting the urge to walk around - and your water breaks. You start panicking, unsure of how dilated you were and how much time you had left before pushing. You really wished you’d done more than just skimmed through those birthing books right about now.

Levi and Hange eventually come sprinting back into the room with a wheelchair and cold rags to find you whimpering in pain on the couch, trying your best to control your breathing.

You’re rushed down the halls to the Scout’s infirmary, where Levi had made sure the perfect room was set up for you - and it had been that way for two months.

The next hour goes by in a blur. Hange knew the biology of how to deliver the baby, and Levi knew how to coach you. He helped you hold your legs back when you pushed, and helped you count out your breathing. Hange attended to everything that might have made Levi faint, like checking your dilation and making sure the baby was coming out at the right angle. You got lucky having these two by your side.

Through all of your efforts, you finally hear a cry. You look up to see Levi holding your tiny new baby as Hange wiped them clean. He was smiling, way bigger than you’d ever seen him smile before, with tears in his eyes.

“Here,” he says softly, handing her to you.

You cradle her on your bare skin. “She’s so perfect, Levi! Look how sweet she is!” you coo.

“What are you going to call her?” he asks, stroking your hair as you gleam down at your baby.

“I was thinking,” you smile, “Kuchel.”

Levi lets out small gasp. Tears start streaming down his face, his efforts to stifle them failing.

“Really? I think that’s,” he wipes his eyes, “a wonderful name.”

—-

Dear Reiner,

She’s finally here! Oh my god, she’s precious. Levi and Hange helped to deliver her. Labor went smoothly. Levi started to cry when he saw her for the first time. She really is just that perfect. We are calling her Kuchel, after Levi’s mother. He cried when I told him that, too (don’t tell him I’m sharing those crying details.) I've decided to give her Levi’s last name as well.

Levi set up the perfect nursery for us.

If you really did feel guilty for leaving - don’t be. I’m happy.

She has your eyes.

Sincerely,

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

Kuchel said her first word today. Of course it wasn’t mama, she’s such a daddy’s girl. She started crawling awhile ago, we are now working on standing up on our own. She has all of this blonde curly hair, too. She’s growing up so fast.

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

Levi proposed a few days ago. It was so perfect. We found a nice house with room for a farm that will be perfect for a family.

I can only wonder how you’re doing, now that the war is over.

Are you even alive?

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

I’m expecting again. Levi is beyond excited. I am too, of course. Kuchel started school this year. She is such a smart kid.

I still wonder about you. After all these years.

Reader

—-

Message after message, word after word. No response. You had decided he must be dead. The devastation after the war would argue that he was.

That is, until you found yourself rummaging through one of Levi’s desk drawers, looking for baby Isabel’s lost pacifier.

You felt the bottom of the drawer shift. A false bottom?

You pry at it until it comes open.

Letters.

Dozens of opened letters. With Marleyan postage stamps.

You pull out the first bundle you see. They’re all from you. Unopened. Unsent. You set them aside, your jaw quivering.

You pull out the second bundle and gasp.

—-

Dear Reader,

Eren showed me your letter. I am terribly sorry. Let me fix this, somehow. You can come to live with me in Marley. I will take care of you. Please.

I’m not just a traitor, a liar, a farce. Everything between us was real. I can explain everything. Just trust me.

Love,

Reiner

—

Dear Reader,

Do you get my letters?

I’ve only heard rumors about our new baby girl. I wish I could see her. Just once. For a second. Do you have a camera? I know they’re hard to come by in Paradis. I can send one.

I’d do anything to change this. You know I would.

Love,

Reiner

—-

To Levi,

You son of a bitch. I know exactly what you’re doing. You think this is protecting her, but it’s not. Just let her talk to me. She would listen, she would understand. You said yourself that she writes. You manipulative, sick bastard. That is MY child. She will never be yours. No matter what you brainwash her to believe, your dirty Ackerman blood does not run through her veins. She deserves to know. You are the farce, Levi.

Reiner

—-

There were dozens more. All opened. All from Reiner.

You sink down to the floor, tears spilling from your eyes.

You are the farce, Levi.

But, why? He was just protecting you, right?

The office door opens. You jump, shoving the letters back into the drawer.

“Mommy, why are you crying?” Kuchel asks.

You take a deep breath, staring down at the letters, thinking about everything that could have been.

“Are you happy here, Kuchel?”

“Yes!” she chirps, “Every day!”

“Then it’s nothing, baby. Mommy just got hurt. She’s better now.”

Your daughter giggles and skips out of the room, leaving you to hide away the rest of the letters.

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I REALLY HOPE I understood your request, Anon! I actually had a lot of fun writing this. It isn't something I would normally think to write, but I'm so glad you shared this idea! Sorry for the sad ending, I love playing w people's emotions ;)

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