#i have to be there so early too which is honestly torture after a week of getting to sleep late

[gretavanlace]

Sugar II (part 7)

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, angst, cheating, choking (barely, and only if you squint) fingering, etc

Hello lovelies! I hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday season and a very merry Christmas (if you celebrate). So sorry for the wait, but I trust you’ll understand…things get so crazy this time of year! Please excuse any mistakes you find, I did some under the weather editing. Xoxo love you all ❤️

True to his word, he was knocking at your metaphorical door the second their brief intermission allowed, and now you find yourself trudging along beside him through a nearly deserted parking lot outside the town cinema that is conveniently attached to the mall.

The mall sees little action these days as it is - throw in the fact that it’s early afternoon smack dab in the middle of the week and you’ve got yourself a recipe for isolation.

Which was exactly the plan all along. It’s a small town, and questions are the last thing you need.

When he’d pulled up in his rental, some luxury sedan with sleek black paint and deeply tinted windows, you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you. How out of place he looked…he would’ve seemed more at home on a tricycle.

Now, after a hug that felt too intimate in the unforgiving glare of the sun, he holds the door open for you, ushering you inside, ever the gentleman, when his phone begins to hum in his pocket.

“Here,” a credit card, black and heavier than standard plastic, slips into your palm as he nods towards the popcorn and candy, “Go wear it out.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Kiszka?” You tease, leaning in conspiratorially, “Am I your dirty little secret?”

With a roll of his eyes, he shuts you down. “Dirty? Yes. Secret? Not so much.”

He tilts his phone to display Josh’s name trilling across the screen. “You’re welcome to say hello, if you’d like. But I honestly detest the thought of sharing you right now. Sounds torturous.”

Your eyes travel over him like he’s a fucking meal. Linen pants cuffed lazily at the ankles to display scuffed and worn boots. Light blue button up, barely buttoned and hardly hiding the softness of his stomach, which you long to gnash your teeth into. Coins and medallions clink about against his chest, locks curling like ribbons along the shoulders of his midnight onyx blazer…no, on this you two can agree, you’d rather not share him either.

“Don’t let him talk so long that I have to miss you.” You smile with a wink that sizzles the blood in his veins as he watches you make your way over to the concession stand.

In keeping with yet another promise, he stands beside you before the popcorn has even been buttered, ready to follow you into whichever darkened room you’ll be inhabiting together for the next couple of hours.

When you fold into your seats, you find yourselves utterly alone.

A half an hour in, and you’re deeply regretting your choice. Something more PG would have been a lifesaver. You should have opted for something animated, for christ’s sake.

Watching them twist through the sheets, his hands dipped into her waist as she rocks above him in the gorgeous, cinematic lighting would normally have no more than a minute effect on you…especially given how little you’ve paid attention to the actual plot.

But he’s so near. You can feel the warmth of his body heat. You can smell that woodsy hint that lilts through his aura, paired with the ghostly remnants of a cigarette he’d swear he never smoked. If you leaned in just a fraction of an inch, your lips could play against the corner of his jaw. And again, you’re alone, so alone, in the cool darkness of this deserted theater.

Watching them this way with him so close has your heart banging about in the cage of your chest like a bird, stunned and frightened. Intense. Inescapable.

It’s the middle of the afternoon. The sun is beating down upon smoldering asphalt just outside these walls, bathing this town, in which you’ve built a life, in blinding light. Outside, it’s just another Wednesday…but here, with him next to you, quiet and concentrating on the two strangers making love on screen, you could be a thousand miles away. An alternate reality where in which only you walk the earth - Jake’s hand in yours as he strolls along beside you.

“Care to share what you’re thinking so hard about?” His question hushes out, though there is no one else around to hear it, but his eyes remain fixed ahead.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” You bristle gently…he knows you far too well for it to ever feel fair.

“I am.” His head tilts towards yours, but still he watches on. “Would you like it if I shared, instead?”

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s rude to talk at the movies?” You tease, simply to avoid whatever you know to be coming, “You really are spending too much time with Josh.”

A thought seems to suddenly occur to him, flickering a nearly visible lightbulb above his head. “Do you ever miss the way it used to be? With Josh? Before I came along and fucked everything up?”

His hand, which has been linked loosely with yours since the lights went down, offers a tiny squeeze. A reassurance that whatever the truth is, it will be alright to say it.

“Never.” And that really is the honesty of it all. “I miss the way things were when it was the three of us sometimes…but I think that’s really only because I miss you. I miss him too. But so differently. And I miss Sam and Danny. I miss…” you fall silent, searching for words that won’t come, and finally settle upon, “everything.”

“You don’t have to.” He is still refusing to look at you, though your eyes are heating his cheek with the intensity of your gaze in the dark. “You don’t have to miss anything, anymore. You can come home, baby. You should come home. I want you to come home. I need you to—” his throat catches, and you watch his lips fold in against the vulnerability.

“I am home.” You argue, wishing you could take it back the second you’ve whispered it into existence.

“Why?” Finally, finally, he turns to catch your eye. “Because of him? I’m so sick of hearing about him it isn’t even funny. And not just because I’m jealous - which I most certainly fucking am - but because it’s such bullshit.”

Trying your hardest, you muster a bit of astonished annoyance, though you feel none of it “My life is bullshit?”

His response is matter of fact as he turns his attention back to the couple still feigning ecstasy before you “Yes, it is.”

“That’s real nice, Jake.” Now your irritation feels a bit more concrete. How dare he so nonchalantly sit here in the dark and try to poke holes in what you’ve cultivated in his absence? “What isn’t bullshit, then? Our pretend life that you choose to live inside? Or the one from years ago that you can’t let go of?”

Another squeeze of your hand comes tender and comforting, “I’ll let that slide because I know you don’t mean to be hurtful…and because I know you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” you pull away and begin to miss his touch instantly. “I just…I have a fucking life, Jacob. And you seem hell bent on ruining it.”

“Okay,” he nods, turning in to nudge your nose with his own. “Take me home then, Sugar. Parade me through your life. Introduce me to Mr. Wonderful. Show me where you sleep. Where you watch TV with him at night. Where you take your baths, floating in the bubbles until you’re pruny and half-drunk on wine. Show me your backyard. Show me the walls he fucks you up against while you don’t think of me. Show me where you hide away from him at night to whisper sweet things to me…and not so sweet things. Let me meet your cat.”

His mouth is so close to yours you can faintly taste his minty toothpaste, “I don’t have a cat.”

“Alright,” he grins, sly as a snake, cheeks sweeping against yours as they perk with his smile, warm and soft “then just take me home and show me your pussy.”

It’s crass and ridiculous, and you know he’s said it simply to make you laugh…it works.

~

“So this is it, huh?” He leans forward, peering at your house through the windshield as you coast into the driveway. “No porch. No garden. But I’m going to wager there’s a welcome mat.”

His eyes cut over to you, a wickedly adorable gleam dancing about in them, “There is, isn’t there? How fucking quaint.”

How does he remember that you hate welcome mats? That you find them to be untruthful somehow, because certainly not everyone is welcome…some who find themselves at your doorstep should just go away. And how has he guessed that you do, in fact, have one? That he brought one home not long after you moved in and you hadn’t had the heart to tell him to throw it out?

Once more, you’re reminded of Jake’s uncanny ability to peer inside your head, but you refuse to stoke the fires of his ego. “You promised to behave, Jacob.”

He pops his door open and climbs out with a lazy stretch, “Oh, c’mon pretty girl, don’t tell me you believed that.”

Hand slipping from the steering wheel, you steel yourself with a steadying breath. This was a bad idea. A horrible choice. A disaster gearing up to wreak havoc…but here you are, leading the way with Jake strolling along behind you, taking in the suburban elements of your neighborhood with his hands buried casually in his pockets.

He always looks as though he has nowhere to be and all day to get there. It’s calming. Soothing. Like the invisible hand of a beloved caretaker reminding you that there is time enough to breathe. No reason to rush, it says…that gentle air about him. I don’t mind waiting. Take your time.

As you fit your key into the deadbolt, he resumes his antics, “When will Mr. Wonderful return from sea? Is there a widow’s walk where we might watch for him together on this dreadful day of pining?”

Voice warbling and pitched low, he reaches up and tugs a lock of your hair, goading you like a drunken, English pirate.

“Shut up, Oliver, or I’ll go inside and lock the door behind me.” The hinges squeak open…no turning back now.

“No, you won’t.” He scoffs, laughing lightly at his own nonsense. “Seriously, do I get to size up the competition today?”

You welcome him in, slightly dizzy at the sight of him sauntering inside…you’ve imagined him here so many times. Longed for his penchant for filling up space, fat and full, with his greater than life presence.

He makes you feel small in the most wonderful way; you are bird cupped safe and sound in his palms as he holds you close to his chest, protecting you from the world.

And maybe you should tell him these things…the way he makes you feel. His eyes would turn soft, he might touch your face with his tender fingertips and sigh your name into the room like a wisp of a breeze.

But a glance at the mantel, and the framed picture perched there, sends a tiny rush of guilt surging through your veins and you shake the moment off and instead opt for a stern…

“No, you won’t be sizing anything up today, Jake,” you move about the room to keep his eyes on you rather than in the direction of the mantel. “I’m not sadistic enough to subject him to your gleeful nastiness.”

He laughs like he’s never loved anything more, tipping his head back to expose his gorgeous throat…you yearn to bite it. “Gleeful nastiness? Sugar, you wound me.”

Rather than stride across the room to sink your teeth into him, you cross your arms, disgruntled and annoyed. “You’d have way too much fun being an asshole, and he’d be far too nice to put you in your place.”

That darkens his eyes, and you almost regret it. Almost. “Put me in my place? Are you choosing sides, sweetheart? Because it sounds an awful lot like you are.”

“Maybe I am.”

He’s moving toward you now, and you should back away, you know you should. Instead, your feet shuffle forward.

“Pretend your heart lies with him all you want,” he sweeps his lips over the apple of your cheek, “but I know better, and so do you.”

“Kiss me.” You bite your lip against the plea a second too late.

Those warm eyes of his, like coffee stirred with a splash of cream, flick down at your mouth and back to meet your gaze, and then his answer comes simply and with finality, “No.”

“No?” You’re incredulous, and admittedly stung by his rejection.

“No.” He reiterates, stepping away from you as your hands drop uselessly from his shoulders to your sides. “Take me on the tour, pretty girl. Show me this wonderful life of yours. I simply cannot wait.”

~

The “tour” he was so eager for is winding down as you steer him down the hall hurriedly, hoping he’ll ignore the door that is cracked and streaming light into the hallway.

Of course, he doesn’t. “What’s the rush, baby?” He smiles, feigning confusion, “What prize hides behind this one? Is this your bedroom?”

Suddenly, there is no space left between your bodies, and his is radiating a possessive heat as he backs you up into the room, guiding you along with a sure and steady arm wrapped around your waist.

“Is this where Mr. Wonderful fucks my girl?”

“Jake,” you’re protesting, but your fingers have curled into his shirt, thumb toying with one of the buttons that has likely never known what it’s like to be fastened. “Stop talking about it.”

He tilts his head in mock confusion, “Why? You like sex, I like sex, let’s talk about it, yeah? Oh, this is it right here, isn’t it? Look at this great big beautiful bed. Did you make it yourself this morning? Are the sheets clean?”

His mouth is at your throat now, licking and sucking between his terrible taunting questions. “If I laid you down right now, would I smell you on them? Would I smell him?”

“Jake, shut up,” you snap, but you’re pulling his lips in closer, hands fisting loosely in his hair.

You expect him to toss you down on the bed. To crawl on top of you. To grab you. To fuck you. To own you on the bed in some misguided show of territorial dominance.

And you expect to let him.

You expect to fight to be on top so that his hair will rest upon your pillow…so tonight you might drift away into a peaceful slumber gifted by the scent of him blurring your senses.

Instead, you find yourself pressed up against the wall, “I won’t have you in that fucking bed, even though I could, if I felt so inclined. I can tell you want it.” He sizes you up while grinding his cock into you with a delicious rhythm that’s got your breath panting out in tiny puffs already. “You do, don’t you, baby? You want me to fuck you in that bed. You want me all over the sheets he sleeps in.”

You’re ashamed, so fucking ashamed…but it’s true.

He’ll go, and you’ll miss him so terribly, and in some sick and horrifically twisted way you want him to spill on to the sheets, to leave his fingerprints on every surface. To lick across the bathroom mirror. To use your hairbrush so that there might be a strand or two of his silken waves left behind. You want him to drink from the milk carton and lounge about on the furniture. To lose the remote between the couch cushions. To tilt all the pictures uneven with his careless touch. You want him everywhere…to leave behind tiny remnants of himself once he’s gone, little pieces to ease your aching heart.

“Tell me, sugar.” He fucks himself against you with quick rolls of his hips until you’re praying his name. “Tell me the truth, baby. Tell me where you want me to give you my cock. I’m so hard for you, sweetheart.”

“In our bed,” it’s a rush of desperation as you clutch at him, dragging him closer to you…but it still isn’t enough, you wish you could crawl inside him. “Fuck me in our bed. Make me cum in our bad. Make me say your name in our bed. Please, jakey, please,”

Ignoring your disgraceful display, he continues to rock into you, gasping into the crook of your neck while his breathless moans tickle their way into your ear, “Does he make you cum in that bed? Does he take care of your pretty cunt the way I do? Does he make you shake and beg for terrible things? Hmm? Are you a good girl for him in that bed? Look at it.”

You shake your head back and forth against the wall, thrusting wildly to meet him. He’s right, he’s so fucking hard.

His palm wraps around your throat, squeezing at the sides, directing your line of sight. “I said fucking look at it. I want your eyes on that bed when I make you cum. I’m gonna make it mine without laying a goddamn finger on it. My bed, and my girl with her pretty wet pussy that belongs to me.”

“Inside,” it’s a rasping, shaking plea, and it should embarrass you and cast your eyes downward in shame…but it doesn’t. You’ve always wanted him this badly, and he knows it as inherently as he remembers the walls of his childhood home. “I need you inside, need your cock.”

“That’s it, fuck doll…” there is a filthy smirk evident in his tone, though his face is once again buried against your neck, “Beg for my cock. Tell me how badly you need it. Ask real sweet, sugar…be my very good girl.”

Your bodies writhe together feverishly until you feel like you might catch fire and burn away into ashes that will singe against his tongue like scorching want “Please, Jakey…please. I think about you all the time. I can’t clear my head, it’s always so full of you. Fuck me, fuck me, please please please…”

A painfully ragged groan rumbles out of him as his mouth, eager and starved, sucks against your throat, “Not gonna fuck you here. Not in this room where you let him touch you, not in this house where you let him love you.”

“Outside,” your teeth clench around the word until your jaw is screaming as loudly as the ache between your legs. “Take me out back, fuck me there…”

At last, his face, so beautifully flushed and dew-kissed, emerges from the crook of your neck, “You want me to take you outside and slide you onto my cock all wet and pretty? Want to let your neighbors hear what a whore you are for me? Let them hear how wet I make your gorgeous cunt? Hmm? Let them hear you whine my fucking name?”

“I don’t care what they hear…” you’re nearly mewling with need, clawing at his shoulders, clutching at his shirt, nearing your end, but so desperate to run from it because you want so much more. You don’t want this to be over without him slipped inside you, hard and hot.

“Look at me.” The insistence in his tone leaves no room for argument and your eyes flutter open to lock in on his.

A breathy, “You’re so beautiful,” trips off your tongue - a reflex that couldn’t be helped if you tried. He’s an evil, diabolical doctor banging a tiny hammer just below your knee cap.

A slow, languid blink is the only indication he gives that he’s even heard you. “You know my face, sugar?”

It’s the most absurd question that has ever been asked of you. Of course you know his face. Sometimes, it seems like you know nothing but his face.

Those sleepy eyes, that seem to see more than anyone has ever seen, down the deep and winding halls within you. His plush lips, full and pink, cruelly perfect, with a Cupid’s bow to rival the angel’s even if you stacked them all together. Rounded tip of his nose, different now, but still constantly luring your kiss. His jaw, so strong at times, so soft at others, but always begging for your tongue to trail along its path…his brow, his eyelashes, the way locks of hair display it all like a gilded edged frame adorning a wall in some ancient, European museum.

Yes, you know his face. You will always know his face. He is true north on your compass. He is the only direction in which your heart will ever willingly travel.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak even as your hips rock against him.

“Good girl,” he presses the softest kiss to your mouth, “I want your eyes on that bed when you cum, but I want my face in your heart, and my name on your pretty pink tongue. We’re gonna fucking erase him, aren’t we?”

Suddenly, you wonder who he means? Does he mean this new rival, who really isn’t his rival at all? Or does he mean Josh, even after all this time? Does he even know which? Do you?

“No, baby…” your voice is but a whimper, and it tugs a growl out of his lungs that makes you weaker still, “I don’t want to cum like this. I need you inside of me. Make me feel good, Jakey…make me whole.”

“Not here,” he shakes his head sternly and you shrink away from his scolding, head resting against the cool wall. “Never here. Not in this house. I hate this fucking house. I want to burn it down and salt the goddamn earth.”

“Give me more,” your fingers are tearing and pulling at him frantically. You need so much from him always, you need his everything.

“I’ll give you more,” his voice sounds feral, grinding and growling like sandpaper…like he is lost and stumbling along far away from himself, as he jerks you away from the wall and slams you up onto your vanity.

Tiny bottles and tubes tumble and spill to the floor, but rather than care, you reach back and blindly sweep the rest away to make room for whatever is about to happen.

“I’ll give you fucking more,” he bites into your throat as though he wants to swallow you down and carry you around inside him. “I’ll give you fucking anything if you’ll just let me. Let me, sugar…fuck, please baby.”

“Just…” you can’t finish your thought…can’t find your mental footing while vibrating with such desperation, so you don’t even try. Instead, you begin fumbling with his belt, but he shoves your hands away.

“I told you,” he grabs hold of your face, a firm yet shaking hand tight around your chin, “Not here. Stop.”

On your fingers march, fighting with leather and metal until his voice, soft and mournful now, guides you out of the haze, “Not here, sugar. Not here.”

Everything slows in a blink, as if fate has adjusted the playback speed, and you find yourself watching with bated, yet quieting breaths as he pops the button on your jeans and lowers the zipper, eyes on your face all the while.

He slips his fingers in slowly, carefully…you are precious and deserving of his care, and he wants you to have it.

“Lean back,” he soothes, the heel of his palm grinding softly against your clit, “Let me take care of my girl.”

You’re prepared to whine and barter, but he shakes his head the moment your lips part.

“Shh, settle down, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” free hand now petting at your face, he offers you the gentlest smile. “You’re so wet, sugar. So warm.”

“Jake,” you’re rocking up to meet him now, slipping into the breathtaking haze of bliss he saves just for you.

“What, pretty girl?” God, the way he’s speaking to you…each word dripping with adoration and awe. Drenched in lust. Positively soaked in love. “Does it feel good?”

“So good,” your eyes are drifting closed now as you wade deeper into the tepid pool of your Jakey. You want to stay forever, to sink into his swirling blue waters until you’re forced to suck him into your lungs and drown.

“Eyes open.” The demand is soft and delicate, like lace drawn across your flushed skin.

You recall his earlier instruction and cast your heated stare at the bed you share with a man you could never exist for the way you live and breathe for Jake, but he shakes his head, “I was wrong…I don’t want that. Look at me, sugar. Right here, look at me.”

How could you ever want to look at anything else? Your gaze locks with his, and in reward, he curls his searching fingers and drags a high pitched moan off the tip of your tongue.

“Good girl, baby…” he nods, dropping his forehead to meet yours “So pretty. Silky little pussy wrapped up snug and tight around me like she never wants me to leave.”

“Don’t,” you’re writhing and grabbing at him now, crawling closer and closer to the edge, “Don’t leave me, Jake.”

His hand trails down from your face to cover your heart, “Is that coming from here, too?”

Watching him like this, your chest feels like it could easily cave in…like it could crumple in on itself - a balled up scrap of cheap aluminum foil crushed inside a fist. He is a sonnet come to life. A haunting song, living and breathing, watching you like you are love incarnate.

Of course it’s coming from your heart. It’s coming from your soul…or perhaps from the soul the two of you sometimes seem to share.

“I don’t know why I keep fighting this,” strangely, tears are burning in your eyes as the white hot band of pleasure stretches tighter still in your belly, “You’re all I want. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted,”

Satisfied, the air sighs out of his lungs as his fingers crook just perfectly and unravel you with a jolt. It is such a lazy, undulating ribbon of pleasure, unwinding through your veins like slow heat as you gasp and hush his name.

“Just like that, baby,” he coaxes, sounding far away. “Nice and slow…just like that. Shh, I’m right here. I’ve got you, sugar, I’ve got you.”

Your eyes never stray from his, even when the intensity you find in them threatens to crack your chest wide open, and when you finally come down, that’s how you both stay for so long you can almost believe the rest of the world has fallen away.

When his fingers twitch and you shiver with overstimulation, it breaks the spell and he pulls back… reluctantly sliding slowly from the cashmere grip of your cunt, only to suck those two fingers into his mouth with a muted groan of content.

“Pack a bag, sugar…” his hands cup your cheeks, fingers slick against your face as his nose tips up to meet yours, “Or don’t. We’ll go shopping and I’ll buy you anything and everything you’ve ever needed. Whatever you want, pretty girl…it’s yours.”

“I—“ you can’t seem to think straight.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he’s teasing now, with a barely there smirk taunting his lips, “Let me steal you away and take you home where you belong. I’ll write pretty songs for you, and make love to you every morning until the sun is so envious of us it resents having to rise. Let me build you a house. Let me till a garden for my girl.”

At last, you find your voice, “I have to do this the right way, Jake. His heart deserves care. I don’t want to hurt him any more than I have to. I’m the bad guy, here.”

“No,” that soft, hidden away smile of his clutches at your heart. “I think I’m the bad guy here. I just can’t find a shit to give.”

~

You’ve righted your disheveled selves and are now attempting to right all the other wrongs, with you stretched out on the rug watching as Jake picks up the tiny bottles and jars that litter the floor, asking after each one…

“Highlighter? What the hell does this do? Are you a book report?” And “How many lip glosses do you even need, sugar? You only have two lips.”

…before carefully placing said product back on the vanity - when, way ahead of schedule, the garage door rumbles to life.

Your heart lurches painfully in your chest, but on his end, Jake’s eyes light up with menacing delight, “Well, what do you know, babe? It seems our dear captain has returned.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @thelvnternskeeper @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

[scribbledghost]

Hello there!! I just wanted to gush about the NSFW Fem!Simon alphabet, because it was so awesome!! I'm infatuated with the whole piece, but if I had to pick my favorite letters they were probably A (for Aftercare), F (for favorite position), and Z (for snoozing afterwards.) I really find it interesting how, despite the topic being steamy, there's still some areas to dive more into fem!Simon's character (like, i.e., her becoming less sexually active after her experience in Mexico.) I find it super cool how you're able to give us a peek into her character from a more unique perspective, in this case with fem!Simon's dynamic with sex.

And then, there was something I was curious about. If I can phrase my thought correctly, it's my curiosity on what fem!Simon might have in common with canon!Simon, as well as what differs between them. For example, while rereading the fem!Simon works, I was going through the one about her first kiss with reader (which I'll link here because it's super stinking cute and sweet: https://scribbledghost.tumblr.com/post/746033214969315328/omg-i-love-mas-muscled-and-im-literally-so-in)

There's a couple of lines there that would be really fitting with canon!Simon's devotion towards reader. Like, for example: "Hell, she’d walk outside, lie face-down in the water, and let you tread on her back all the way to the truck if you asked her to. But that’s a different matter." And, additionally: "For a moment, she contemplates telling you the truth - that she likes holding you, likes taking care of you, and likes showing off her strength (purely because she knows you like her showing off) - but she reconsiders."

But then, there's the blurb you did about fem!Simon being ecstatic about reader calling her wife. And, in the tags, you were talking about how canon!Simon would be allergic to marriage for a few years while fem!Simon is more eager. So, I'm just curious, how similar do you think fem!Simon is to canon!Simon? And what are some key differences between them?

(I also apologize for A) making this a mini-essay with the length and B) any mistakes... I'm sleep deprived and typing this at 5:00 in the morning so it's probably not my most coherent ask lol.)

okay, i am super sorry it's taken me so long to answer this! I've been super busy while on vacation this week, but I've finally got some downtime and I've been thinking about this ask since I got it. so here we go!

First, I'm so glad to hear you like the smut alphabet! It was super fun to write (and I promise I'm still working on that SFW version). I love digging into characters' personalities and stories, so those alphabet memes are perfect for that. For Fem!Simon's relationship with sex, I headcanon her as being incredibly closeted until maybe her early 20s due to her upbringing (her father was super abusive, and she's always been a tomboy even before coming to terms with being a butch lesbian, so there was plenty of homophobia coming from her dad too). From there, she had a few flings, but after she was tortured and assaulted in Mexico, she stopped all of that. I know sexual trauma can also manifest in hypersexuality, but I just don't see it happening that way for Simon. Instead I see her withdrawing from it completely for a while (until she meets you).

As for similarities and differences between Fem!Simon and Canon Simon, I'd honestly see them as mostly similar. For example, they're both incredibly loyal and devoted once you get past their emotional walls, like you mentioned with the quotes from the first kiss blurb for Fem!Simon. They've largely got the same backstory, with the only alterations being in how their sexualities shaped them differently. Her personality is largely the same as well - stern, blunt, and has no problem with being mean when the situation calls for it.

For differences, I think Fem!Simon is only slightly (and I mean VERY slightly) more open than canon Simon is. She's still incredibly stoic, cold, and closed-off if she doesn't know you well, but if she's romantically interested in you, she'll make her move a bit sooner than canon Simon would. She still takes time to feel you out, so to speak. She keeps an eye on you, takes mental notes of your mannerisms and how you handle certain situations to make sure you're compatible. She's analytical, just like canon Simon. But once she's sure, she's sure.

And as far as marriage goes, she's more open to it than canon Simon is purely because it was illegal for most of her life (same-sex marriage didn't become legalized in the UK until 2014). So even once she'd come to terms with her being a lesbian, there was a decent amount of time where she wouldn't have been allowed to marry anyway, so it was... idk, "safer for her to want it", I suppose. Now that it's legal, she's already moved past her mental blocks on the issue.

I think those are the more obvious differences between Fem!Simon and Canon!Simon? Largely, I think everything else is either mostly or completely the same between the two.

Again, thank you SO MUCH for this ask and for letting me dive more into Fem!Simon's personality!! I appreciate it a lot 💖💖💖

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - All the Penultimate DOOM

Jan 2023 Wk 4

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most. (Posted early this week cause I running a seminar all day tomorrow.) 

Ongoing Series - Thai

My School President (Fri YT) ep 8 of 12 - Gun is SO MUCH better at flirting than Tinn. Also Fourth is a killer little actor. GMMTV, man, how do they always find ‘em? The side couple is also getting to be good. Should this show be in the running for 10/10 status? Probably. But it’s never gonna get there because of all the singing. (I gotta stay true to my brand.) 

Never Let Me Go (Tues YT) ep 7 of 12 - I can see why everybody giffed the wrestling on the bed scene. It was v cute and a great opener. I like that the backstory we got was a good explanation for Palm and his father’s extreme loyalty. Fastest proposal to wedding I’ve ever seen. Outside of Vegas, of course. NO SINGING. OK the “this is how couples kiss” kiss was really REALLY good.

Between Us (Sun iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - Doomy doom doom. Only not. It was more like doom lite. Except for those of use who hate singing. Then it was extra spicy doom torture. And unlike Pete, I do not like it. WATCH ALONG HERE.

609 Bedtime Story (Fri WeTV) ep 10 of 11 - Doomy doom doom, ALSO. GamesVee schilling for marriage equality. Has to happen every single show now? But at crying kiss? YES PLEASE. 6 month time gap. Honestly, WeTV didn’t serve me the first half of the ep this week, and I don’t really care. Apparently it was amnesia. Meanwhile, Mum stepped aside for emotionally immature obsessive sister. And now she’s marrying Dew. Bonkers. I hate this experience. 

Cutie Pie 2 You (special) ep 4fin - And a wedding, and everything sweetness and light, in Korea we are boys do not kiss like that, and the end. Honestly we didn’t really need this special, but I’m not upset about it. 7/10 RECOMMENDED BUT ONLY IF YOU’VE SEEN THE SERIES 

I Will Knock You (Fri Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - Doomy doom doom only pulp style. The parents, understandably, do not approve. Noey’s plans for the future are kind of cute. He’s such a baby. 

Hit Bite Love (Sat YouTube) ep 1 of 6 - Opens with a bj. That’s certainly novel. Honestly? This is giving me So Much in Love meets Club Friday vibes. Which is not a good thing. But starting with secret lovers (Ken & Shokun) breaking up is at least different. There is also a cute new kid in a friends-to-lovers geeky thing happening (King & Burger). Subs are TERRIBLE. But my Thai is good enough now for me not to mind as much as I once did. Do I like this show? Noo…oo? But I’m gonna keep watching it. I have a pretty high tolerance for Thai pulps. After all, I’m one of the few people on the planet who actually watched So Much in Love. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The New Employee (Korea Weds Viki) ep 6 of 8 - Criminal how utterly gay and cute they are. Matching pajamas indeed. ALSO honorifics discussion!!!! Yay! (There was seal clapping on this side of the screen.) “Do you want to see my cat?” is a great pick up line. It would totally work on me. To be fair, “do you want to see my dog” would also work. Always been an equal opportunity player.

HIStory 5: Love in the Future (Taiwan Weds Viki) ep 5 of 10 (or 9&10 of 20) Wynn in the icebox = such an old-school trope, it’s practically kidnapping for love. Pouty McHotterton remains regrettably evil and should have been fired. Vincent is too nice for his own boy’s good. Then... random confession time! I guess extreme cold makes people brave/drunk? But why didn’t he take him to the hospital to get treated for hypothermia? I’m so confused. Still these office boys are so cute and sincere and awkward. They’re killing me  The other two are basically a married odd couple. Rich boy just wants to be looked after and coddled and spoiled. Jonny is very daring but also acts unconsciously and on pure instinct. I kind of like their dynamic. It’s sort of teasing, and cool, and modern. 

Candy Color Paradox AKA Ameiro Paradox (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 6 of 8 - Kenta  domination continues. Of course my beloved charismatic boy ends up being complex but evil. Could I just get a wholesome age gap BL starring him now, please? I’m not picky. He’d be GREAT in Our Dining Table... just saying. Sorry, distracted. Back to the main couple... they’re pretty I suppose. I do like how huggy they are.  Also, multiple kisses. What is this world coming to? All very unusual in JBL.

Individual Circumstances (Korea Thurs Viki) ep 3-4 of 8 - The stalking continues, and it’s boring. Korea doesn’t have any excuse to be boring, they don’t have enough time to spend on it in a BL. Stalker gets sick. Shocker. It’s a BL + rain. Still I’m very grateful that they take every opportunity to make Mr. Korean International shirtless. For science and the good of BL, we salute you! Frankly, I have no idea what’s going on. Did they actually have a relationship in the past? Or was it closeted? Or did one of them think they were in a relationship but not the other? On a different note and wat more important to me? I want the actor playing the agent to star in his own BL. He v adorbs. 

It’s Airing But I’m Not Watching It

GMMTV’s Midnight series (Weds YT)  - first segment has begun bit it’s not the EarthMix messy gays. I’m so not interested in messy hets, so I’m waiting until they grace my screen. Moonlight Chicken 1 of 8 - eventually.  

Gossip

Earth giving us, in one single photo shoot on Cooheart IG, what Unforgotten Night couldn’t manage in an entire fucking series. 

I read the first installment of the Semantic Error manwha (available in English translation legally). It’s similar to the show, although not exactly the same. Some scenes are in different orders etc. There’s not much of the story in the first installment, and I don’t think it was worth the money. The art was fine, pretty typical of the genre, nothing to really recommend it or stand out from the pack. If it did nothing else, it made me realize how much the Parks brought as their roles, because as manwha characters they did not resonate with me at all and came off as pretty flat. Brutal assessment, I know. You thought I was a harsh BL critic, I’m 1000x worse to books.  

The Controversy Surrounding Be On Cloud Actor Build Jakapan and KinnPorsche Author Poi Patchayamon - untagged, no comment & no comments welcome, this is not that blog. 

In Case You Missed It

I posted a meta of all my 2022 wraps, top picks, industry stats, etc..

I ALSO posted the 2023 forthcoming BL master post. (see comments some are inaccurate)

Next Week Looks Like This:

Light week right now, which is cool with me. I think I might get caught up on 2020′s The Reason Why He Fell In Love With Me, Gaga picked it up and I’ve been wanting to see it since it got announced in 2019. Japanese, teachers at a school fall in love with each other, get caught. 

Tomorrow: Between Us ends. 

The End Of The World, With You AKA Bokura no Micro na Shuumatsu from Japan starts on Gaga ep 1 of 8. Stars Toshiki Seto (Senpai, This Can't Be Love). In 10 days, the world will be destroyed by a meteor. To spend his remaining time as comfortably as possible, bad-luck magnet Masumi decides to visit the library of his alma mater and read as much as he wants until the end. But there he meets the one man from his past that he never wanted to see again, Ritsu. And if things weren't bad enough, Ritsu has a favor to ask, a favor that Masumi never expected

Supposed to air in Jan but I got nothing: 

Nilundon

Luminous

Time the series

This week’s adventures in captions:

Hit Bite Love: I applaud the use of singular they and am amused by the sentence construction that resulted. 

King actually said boy with boy (or boy+boy, or boy & boy - the conjunction is the same word in Thai) not homosexual. I haven’t heard this Thai phrasing used before in a BL and I liked it a lot. 

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Between Us being all soft with their Ep 11. 

I love it when a show defines its own premise (NLMG).  

Blessed be the wingmen for they speak truth in BL (Hit Bite Love). 

FINALLY learning how to manipulate his boyfriend (got himself a tsundere praise slut, takes a bit of high handed managing that does). My School President, speaking of... 

Best line in a BL ever, but honey, I think he really wants you to give the orders. 

Let the single braincell club rise again! 

I see what you did there GMMTV, alluding to the pool kiss trope you basically popularized with OG PeteKao? Very clever. 

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? Kang Daniel’s Parade. 

[multifandom--madness]

Roll for Perception - E.M.

a/n: I have not dived into this in a while, but I hope I do well enough for you guys to enjoy. If you guys like it enough, I'll make it a series.

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: none, I don't think

summary: What's the hellfire club all about?

----

Yearbook? no. School paper? no. Band? no. Gymnastics....long gone. You honestly had no motivation to do anything for your senior year. I mean, did you have to be in an extra curricular? Your mom was practically begging you to get back into gymnastics, but after last year's embarrasing injury, you were not willing to relive that. Nor were you willing to go the extra mile rehabilitate it into being the perfect athlete either. After looking at the fliers that were pinned to the cork board, you found one flier under all of the other papers.

"Hellfire Club... Friday nights 6 pm. Hawkins High School's old theatre. If you don't have dice, you can borrow some. Curse of Vecna Session 1 10/31/1985. DM: Eddie Munson"

Dungeons and Dragons? You've not played that since your older brother had moved away to college and you lost him as a DM. It seemed that they were already a couple of sessions in, but maybe not too far for an extra character? You took the flier and folded it into your bag and walked to your locker before your last class.

After an hour long torture session of anatomy class you grabbed your car keys as fast as you could and drove home. Once you got home, you put on some more comfortable clothes and dug through your old drawer of things and grabbed your dice, an old character sheet, and a pencil or two.

Your mom heard you run through the house and to your room and she wiped her hands with a kitchen rag. "Y/n, is that you? How was school?" you answered without looking at her as you grabbed some more comfortable shoes. "Uh, yeah it was good. Good enough for first day I guess?" She smiled at you and threw her towel over her shoulder. "I heard they have a gymnastics team...I thought it would be good for you, so I called the school and talked to the coach. Conditioning is starting now."

You rolled your eyes at her vigor to get you back into gymnastics, but that was a wish and a dream. "Mom, I'm not doing that. Plus, I wouldn't even have the time to get back to where I was and... just no. Anyway, I have to go back to the school anyways so I'll be home by 10."

"But y/n, it would be so good for-" and that was all you heard before you shut the door, drove off, and headed to Hawkins High. Getting there, you had never seen the parking lot so empty, but thank god because you were able to find a parking spot that didn't require you to hike to the old theatre.

Campus was dark and things were already weird here in Hawkins, but you tucked your jacket and bag close to you and found the old theatre. Before you opened the door, you already heard what you remembered to be the sounds of people speaking with one another. You already felt bad for showing up when they are probably well established into the campaign, but you'd rather be super early in the campaign instead of super late.

You walked in and as soon as the door shut behind you, four heads turned in your direction. Three obvious freshman, and one tall senior, you assumed, with a long black wavy mullet. "Is that a girl?" you heard one of them whisper. "Uhm, I'm sorry, but the new theatre is holding auditions, not this one." the tall one said to you.

"Is this the hellfire club?" you asked. Everyone's eyebrows raised and the tall one unfolded his arms and walked towards you. You held out your hand to shake, which he did not take. "Are you Eddie? I saw this flier on the cork board in the hall. I know it's been a couple of weeks since your first session, but I was hoping I could play?"

Eddie turned to look at the party and then back at you. He scratched his head and looked at you as if to say 'you might be in the wrong place'. "I mean, have you played D&D before? The party we have is level 8 right now and you wouldn't want to just-" He started to say but your excitement beat him to it.

"Oh no, that's fine. I actually already have my character sheet. I made a teifling bard warlock. She's multi classed evenly. I've played before but I've not been able to play in a while. If it's too much I understand. I just saw you were playing and thought-" You saw the smirk grow on Eddie's face and he stuck his hand out to introduce himself.

"I'm Eddie, I'm the DM." You smiled and took his hand and replied "Y/n. New student." From there he put his hands in his pockets and asked "Do you have dice?" You plopped your bag on the playing table, careful not to knock over any miniatures, and pulled out your dice tray, your player's handbook, your old miniature, and your favorite set of purple dice. "You can say, I'm quite excited."

Eddie let out a small and almost inaudible laugh, but you caught it and it made you smile. "Pick your spot at the table." he said. Everyone rushed to their favored spots, leaving you at the opposite head of the table from Eddie. Everyone prepared their materials and Eddie dimmed the theatre lights for ambiance.

"Everyone, this is y/n. She is our newest addition to the table. Everyone, go around." You went around the table and met the three younger players named Mike, Dustin, and Lucas. Mike was a Palladin, Dustin introduced himself ruggedly as a master artificer, and Lucas acted out his ranger skills as he introduced his character.

When it came to your turn, you smiled, flirtatiously extended your arms onto the table being very in character and introduced yourself. "My name is Agony, I'm a Tiefling Bard Warlock multi-class." You donned fingers for horns on your head to mimic your character and laughed as you sat down.

Eddie smiled behind his interlocked hands as you introduced yourself and sat up straight in his DM throne. "Now that we have met one another, I need everyone to roll for perception." Everyone rolled their dice, Mike was doing the math on his modifiers to add to his role, and dustin and Luke groaned as they clearly rolled a low number on their dice. You shot up in excitement and smiled "Nat 20!" The party clapped for you as you started the session strong.

After four hours of playing, Dustin, Mike, and Luke all spoke with one another as they waved and said goodbye to you on their way out. You got your things together and Eddie came by you holding his campaign book. "Great session today, Y/n. I hope to see you next Friday. Do you have a ride home?" he asked politely. You smiled and thanked him letting him know you drove here. He nodded his head toward the door offering to walk you to your car and smiled. You immediately knew finding that flier was the best thing you could have done for yourself this year.

---

a/n: I hoped you guys liked this, plz don't drag me.

[kitthepurplepotato]

New to the story? Start here! -> PART 1

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Part 6 (or alternative universe 1/3):

Bakugou Katsuki and the case of an unexpected team up mission.

(feat. Deku & Todoroki)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Author’s note: I would recommend reading this part (and the next 2) even if you don’t know the full story! It will be super fun!

I’ll leave a quick “catch up” for you guys, so you can understand the beginning!

Also, English is my second language. Sorry for the mistakes.

Warnings: Swear words!

💥Master list💥

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Okay guys, I know I’m supposed to have Best Jeanist as the guest for this part, but I had this idea, and after all my mental struggles I actually ended up writing more Shenanigans, even tho this story is supposed to be on a long-term hiatus, so spare my life, please 😂

For those who only want to read this part: Reader is Bakugou’s assistant, an ex-hero from another country, currently out of business due to an injury. Her quirk is super powerful; she can have any quirk she can think of, even multiple at once.

You and Bakugou “hate each other” (not really), he is your boss, and you are not easy to boss around. Don’t tell anyone, but you guys care about each other quite a lot.

In the last part, you fainted due to overworking yourself and Bakugou ended up being your caretaker for the day. He “hated” every minute of it.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Hey, you fuckstick! We have guests, stop zoning out like a brainsless idiot!”

Ahh, it’s so good to be back in the office again!

Oh wait…

It’s certainly not.

Since the fainting incident… Bakugou is an even bigger ass than he was before. You didn’t think it’s possible, but here you are, half asleep, being shouted at for no reason, your coffee still untouched on your office desk.

You were absolutely aware of the fact that you probably won’t ever see Dynamight’s caring side ever again, but you really can’t believe how much damage this small mess-up has done to your already tense relationship.

“I thought I am a brainless idiot anyway.” You sigh into the distance, your face plastered to the desk’s shiny surface. Maybe this time, you’ll be the person faking being dead to get away from a traumatic situation; because shit you not, you are actually traumatized by this sudden personality change.

“We can come back later, Kacchan.” Comes a smooth voice from the door, which soothes your troubled soul right away. What a pleasant voice to be listening to so early in the morning! You might as well just go back to sleep now.

But wait…

Kacchan?

“The fucker had enough time to laze around last week.” Grumbles the blonde demon with zero sympathy in his harsh voice.

Honestly, Dynamight should be banned from talking between 10 PM and 10AM.

“I think you are being too harsh on her. Living half of her life with you is enough of a torture as it is.” Another pleasant voice joins the conversation, making the demon in front of you so angry he almost explodes your head with an accidental explosion coming out from his palms.

“I will blow you out of my fucking office window if you don’t shut the fuck up, you half and half bastard, who the fuck invited you anyway…”

“I did, Kacchan.” Speaks up the soothing voice again, but this time, it sounds more squeaky and less pleasant.

Okay, who are these people?!

As you slowly emerge from your half sleeping position, your eyes are met with 2 really handsome guys; one with a magnificent pine green hair, the other half crimson half white, split perfectly in the middle.

Oh, shit.

You are not the fangirl kinda gal, but you are internally screaming so loud you can barely hear your own voice; hence why you might be screaming like and absolute fool right now.

“Deku-san, Shouto-san, sorry for my terrible behavior! Welcome to the agency! Please take a seat!” You sit up as quickly as you can, bumping your knees into the thick office desk while standing up. The loud thump echoes in the otherwise silent office, but you pay no mind to the awkward situation and point at the office sofa.

This is fine.

This is salvageable.

You can do this.

“Now you can fucking behave…” Mumbles Mr. Dynamight, making the situation awkward again. Of course.

“Jealous much?” You snap back, ready for a fight.

“Why the fuck would I be jealous?! Who do you think you are?”

Woah, the bitch is angry.

“I’m supposed to be your right hand, but if you keep bitching, I’ll shove my resignation up your ass and blow you up with it.” You scream back, lovely guests respectfully ignored for the time being.

“My right hand?! A pimple on my back, maybe.” Shouts the blonde back with sparkling palms, slowly getting closer. Oi.

“At least it’s not a pimple on his ass. Sounds like a compliment to me.” Speaks up Shouto, clearly not reading the room properly.

“Shou, not now…” squeaks Deku with a red face, slowly moving in front of his friend protectively.

“What did you say, Steakface?”

“I said, you two get along well.” Deadpans the half and half hero, still oblivious to the dangers of his words.

“WE DO NOT!” You both scream in the poor guys face, when another person arrives at the office door.

“SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!” The savior of the day, Kirishima appears in the office, his hardened body ready for a fight in between the four of you.

“Thank god.” Sighs the number one hero and collapses on the sofa like a sack of potatoes.

The trust these guys have in Kirishima is amazing. You were so used to seeing him every day, you kinda forgot how strong and reliable he is when it’s needed.

You have the biggest respect for the poor guy, who’s willingly by Dynamight’s side, listening to his yapping every day without being payed for it.

After a few moments of awkward silence, fresh coffee is being served to the two guests; you silently thank Kirishima for taking the burden from your shoulders today.

“So what are you guys doing here today?” You try to start a conversation while sipping your lukewarm coffee.

“Shouto and I were in the area and we thought it would be nice to see Kacchan, as he never replies to me.” Deku gives you a shy smile and damn, number one hero or not, he is absolutely adorable. You are not sure how can he break bones with that cute face.

“YOU thought it would be nice to see Katsuki. I just came along.” Deadpans Shouto with zero emotion on his face until he gets poked in the side by a scrunched faced Deku. Even his angry face is adorable. What is this guy?

And let’s not even talk about the other one… you can’t help but wonder if the handsome fella has any other expressions than the nonchalant, emotionless one he’s wearing now (and in every single interview you were forced to watch with your bestie); does he keep his facade on in the bed as well? You kinda want to investigate that.

Wow, you might need to get laid just as much as your angry boss does.

“Shouto, I told you not to say everything out loud.” Reprimands the green haired hero, reminding you of a kindergarten teacher telling of a child for eating sand.

You can’t help the giggle bubbling up in your throat as you take in the sight in front of you; the two best friends sitting on the sofa, clearly comfortable with each other, the angry sulking blonde next to them, who’s trying to hide his happiness with aggressive expressions and filth coming out of his mouth, the silent presence of Kirishima leaning on the back of the sofa, beaming at the two bickering heroes with pure adoration.

“Stop smiling like a pervert.” Mumbles Mr. Dynamight with a slight blush on his face, staring into the distance to avoid any kind of eye contact.

“How could I NOT smile, you guys are so cute together.”

“Cu…cute?!” Stutters the blonde, face red as a tomato. “What the actual fuck is cute about this?! Did your parents drop you as a child, or what? Also, this meeting is over, everyone fuck off!” Explodes Mr. Katsuki, and starts throwing everyone out of the office one by one; or at least he tries until Deku steps in front of him.

“Wait… I need to talk to you about something.” Says the greenette with a serious expression.

“I knew you fucking want something…” Bakugou rolls his eyes and puts the other hero down on the sofa. “Spill it, you goddamned nerd.” He grumbles while sitting down, ready to listen to Deku’s “annoying” rambling.

“So there is this villain group we are after…”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Why am I here Mr. Dynamight?!”

That’s the question of the century, to be honest.

As you look around in the area in front of you, you can see nothing but pure destruction; abandoned homes burst in flames, the sky grey and foggy from all the smoke, the pavement broken into chunks of concrete, which makes your steps wobbly and uneven.

This is a war zone. And you are standing right in the middle of it.

“Don’t look so frightened, aren’t you supposed to be a hero?” Answers the blonde with the most nasty tone possible, looking at you like you’re a piece of shit he just stepped on by accident. Well, if he can’t give you a disappointed look as his face is hiding behind a protective mask, he had to make sure his words hurt you just as well as his usual angry face does.

“Kacchan…” sighs Deku with a massive bandage on his right hand, giving you a tiny smile for reassurance. “The fight is over now, most of the villains are already behind bars. This place is supposed to be safe for heroes.“ he explains. “We lost one of the bad guys tho, so we need to investigate the area for clues.”

This still doesn’t explain why are you, a basic-ass secretary, here. You might have been a hero a few months ago, but you are far away from being “battle ready”; you can barely manage the small gigs with the amount of mana you have, as your body is still using up all your energy to heal itself.

“Your shitty quirk is perfect for this investigation. If by any chance there is a sudden fight, you can hide behind my fucking skirt and cry like a looser.” Bakugou snaps at you, while Todoroki rolls his eyes in disapproval.

Wow, that’s a new facial expression! What a day to be alive.

“Why are we friends with him again?” Deadpans the half and half hero, making the blonde angry and furious. As the two start their usual bickering, you sigh into the void and make your way into the ex-battlefield. You take a deep breath and bring out a few different quirks all at once; levitation, x-ray vision and a new one you just came up with; a sensor that tells you the last movements in the area you are looking at.

The burnt down homes in front of you are indeed abandoned but there is one still in tact, away from the burnt area, built extremely close to the forest; compared to the other parts of the battlefield, the house feels lived in, heat-wise.

“Y/N-san, wait for us!” You hear a voice behind your back, but you are too focused on your current task; finding clues about the whereabouts of the last villain stranding.

There are old footprints coming out through the back door, going into the forest; the angle of the footprints indicate…

“Katsuki, behind you!” You scream from the top of your lungs, but it’s too late; the villain jumps out from behind the tree, right next your boss.

“So this is how I fucking die…” You say, while you activate another quirk; teleportation.

In only a millisecond you end up behind the blonde; the villain’s quirk hitting you instead of Bakugou. The world suddenly shifts and you are falling into the eternal nothingness.

Why did you save the person who treats you like shit every single day?

Because your body moved on it’s own.

You are not sorry for doing it either; You can’t help but think about the way he cared for you when you were sick and about how he always brings you coffee, even when he’s being a bitch about it afterwards.

The small acts of kindness say more than the loud words; Bakugou Katsuki might be the biggest asshole in the whole word, but he doesn’t deserve to die; not like this, not right now.

“You fucking idiot!” Screams a voice you know so well, frustrated and confused. Even though you are falling into nothing, you can kinda see what’s happening in the real world; you can see Bakugou kneeling on the floor, looking at the floor where you are supposed to be, you can see Todoroki freezing the villain in one place, handcuffing him with quirk canceling handcuffs, you can see Deku, trying to calm down the crying hero… what?

Is Bakugou crying?! He must be really angry, then.

Suddenly, your back hits the ground; the sun is shining aggressively into your face, making you flinch; you can also hear some happy chatter not too far away from you.

The chatter suddenly stops and there are quick footsteps coming your way; you try to make yourself invisible out of habit, but your quirk decides to act up; you can’t feel the usual warmth of your power anymore.

“I really don’t want to support your stupid conspiracy theory, but… this woman just fell from the sky.” Mumbles a blonde nerdy guy, pushing his glasses up to see you better. His face is soft, but confused, his brows scrunched in an adorable way and it might be because of the pain, but he looks kinda familiar.

Is this… a dream?

“This is not the time for this, Kacchan. She’s hurt!” Reprimands the green haired nerd in the loudest PRIDE t-shirt you’ve ever seen. Is that eyeliner under his eyes? Cute.

Wait…

This isn’t a dream. You would not be able to come up with this shit, even if you tried.

A sudden realization dawns upon you as you stare into those warm, green eyes, dumbfounded.

“Deku?” You mumble incredulously, eyes wide, mouth open. You gawk at the blonde nerd on the other side of you; you are met with the crimson eyes you know so well.

“Bakugou Katsuki?”

This is ridiculous. This can’t be real.

This guy can’t be…

“Do you know us? Are we friends? Please, tell me you are Kacchan’s wife from the future!”

“You rewatched Back To The Future without me, you shitty nerd!” Complains the blonde, clearly offended by his traitor of a friend. “Also, are you my wife from the future? I hope you are.” The blonde sighs.

“Kacchan…” Deku pats his friend’s back apologetically, and Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t pull away.

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

-> Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I’m actually so excited for this! I have so many silly ideas! Send me a comment, if you liked it 💜 Tell me your predictions about this alternate universe! :D

Taglist(Want to be added? Just ask in the comments!): @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai

@nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake said: “  you don’t have to come over here and take care of me you know.  i can clean up my own messes.  ” / nick & kass

the tension in his home since nicklas was discharged from the hospital had been nearly thick enough to cut through. so much had happened within the past week and no one had really been able to fully process any of it. everyone was beyond relieved that nick made it out alive despite the horror done to his body, but there was anger bubbling just beneath the surface. it was clear that for nick there was the anger of grant disappearing, anger of his pain and not being able to do things for himself with the state of his hands, of his body -- the loss of control she was witnessing hit a soft spot within kassy. but there was also anger both within her and rev. to think about what happened to him, to think that the man who did this got to just walk away without a scratch.

everyone just wanted to help him as best they could and kassy knew that it was going to be overwhelming and frustrating for nick. but she wasn't going anywhere. he hadn't left her when she had wanted nothing to do with anyone, and she'd be damned if she was going to leave him here to suffer alone after what he had been through.

kassy tried her best not to hover, tried not to let the deep concern leak into her gaze every time she looked at him but god she had been so fucking scared. to hear him screaming out in pain on the other end of the line while the man torturing him taunted them both -- it made her physically sick with rage. and to see the aftermath of what happened to him, every time she let her mind linger on it she felt like she was going to sob all over again. he hadn't deserved this, and now watching him struggle through simple tasks because of the damage to his hands, it wasn't fucking fair.

she watched from the kitchen island in silence as his hands shook trying to get himself a simple glass of water. the glass shook too, water splashing over the edge because of the tremors and she sucked in a sharp breath, rising as she saw the frustration and pain in his face. "nick.." she began softly as she stepped forward when she couldn't take it anymore, but it was too late and the glass slipped from his hands to shatter on the ground, watching as he cursed. "stop. stop, don't move, let me clean this up," she told him as she carefully went to get the dustpan and broom. she saw the defiance in his gaze, the way his scowl deepened and she was honestly afraid he would lash out with his frustration and punch something which would only injure him more.

you don’t have to come over here and take care of me you know.  i can clean up my own messes. he told her flatly and she shook her head. "stop that," she told him with a soft frown, "just let me help you." she knew he wasn't helpless, and that just because he did need help didn't mean he was weak, or any less of the man she knew him to be. she just couldn't bare to watch him hurt himself anymore because she knew he was stubborn enough to stay there in pain for as long as it took to meticulously clean this up himself. kassy also knew there would be a lot of this going forth, and that she shouldn't step in every time, but it was too early, too soon since he'd returned from the hospital, he was going to have to get used to them helping.

she carefully picked up the larger shards of glass first and swept the rest into the dustpan. cleaning up she could feel how uncomfortable he was as if it was heat radiating off him. with the glass cleaned around him and the water mopped up, kassy got him another glass of water, "i know you want to do everything for yourself but the harsh reality is that you can't right now, nick. not without hurting yourself. right now you have to be gentle with yourself, give yourself time to heal." the look in his eyes had her heart squeeze painfully, "i know it's frustrating, baby, i know, but the more you let us help, the quicker your injuries will recover," she told him softly as she reached up to gently stroke his cheek, drawing his gaze back towards her as he had looked away.

"no one here thinks of you any less because of it, you hear me? not alec, or i, or octavia, or rev. now please, come sit down and let me help you." her hand slid along his arm to very hesitantly hold her palm up just under his, leaving a bit of space for whether he would let her gently take it or not. she offered him a reassuring smile with unwavering confidence and adoration for him because as horrible as this all was, she knew he was strong enough to make it through this, and there was not a chance in hell he would be doing so alone.

[myheadsgonenumb]

When the canon timeline means you can't write a canon compliant fic...

Oh this is so frustrating. Hear me out.

The original order of the phoenix all gathered together one day, during the first wizarding war, and took a photograph:

in the picture there is "Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken"

And also "Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found his body." 

In Deathly Hallows, Harry finds a letter written to Sirius from Lily in which Lily mentions two things of note:

Thank you for Harry's birthday present... We had a very quiet birthday tea.

and:

Wormey was here last weekend, he seemed down but that was probably the news about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard.

Lily's letter tells us that this is after Harry's first birthday, ergo she is writing sometime after 31st July 1981. It also implies that the McKinnons' death is recent. They knew about it last weekend, so perhaps the news came a few days before.

This means - at the time of writing - Marlene has been dead maybe two weeks. And she died two weeks after the photo was taken. So at the time of writing the photo is only about a month old.

Even if Lily was writing bang on the 1st of August 1981 (and let's be honest, she probably left the thank you letters a couple of days - or longer), this would make the date of the photo 1st July 1981 - at the earliest.

Voldemort falls and the war ends on 31st October - four months after the photo was taken.

But according to the timeline Frigging Caradoc Dearborn can't vanish until another two months have passed!

This would mean Caradoc doesn't vanish until Dec 1981/ January 1982. When the war is already over. Which is just deeply irritating for someone trying to write a canon compliant war story, killing off all the order members at the correct time.

There are four solutions I can see:

Caradoc Dearborn is the victim of renegade Death Eaters who make a strike against him after the war is over. Frank and Alice are tortured into insanity after Voldemort has fallen, so it's not impossible ... This means Caradoc would still be alive at the end of a canon compliant fic which finished at the end of the war... and would lead to comments in the comment section like "canonically Caradoc Dearborn died" and "I was expecting Caradoc to die but he never did - he died in canon". Gah!

The McKinnons are killed much earlier, but the news about their deaths isn't discovered until around the time of Harry's birthday. Which means the photo can have been taken any time between July 1978 and April 1981 - and Caradoc can still vanish six months afterwards. However this means just writing the McKinnons out with no explanation and then revealing their death in July 1981... and honestly, had they been missing for any length of time during the war, I think Lily would have long since resigned herself to the fact that they were dead, and would be unlikely to spend an entire evening crying or attribute Peter's sadness to the news when it was finally confirmed (after all - I know fanon loves Marlene as Lily's best friend since they were 11, but this letter doesn't really convey that to be true. Lily doesn't even mention Marlene by name.)

Marlene is killed two weeks after the photo is taken (anytime between July 1978 - April 1981) and the Death Eaters come back and finish off the rest of her family in late July 1981, hence "The news about the McKinnons" and not "The news about Marlene". There's nothing wrong with this version of events per se... but Marlene appears to be the only actual member of The Order, if the photo is anything to go by, killing her off early doors and then sweeping back around twenty chapters later to mention the rest of her family are dead now too just doesn't seem a massively impactful piece of storytelling.

Moody is just being inaccurate when he states how much later Caradoc disappeared. It is, after all, fourteen years ago, and four months is practically six months. The photo could be taken early July 1981 (meaning Marlene's death then lines up with Lily's letter) and Caradoc vanishes a couple of days before Halloween, which - 14 years later - seems like it was 6 months to Moody. Only, a matter of days before Halloween 1981, all readers are braced for impending Jily death, Sirius going to Azkaban, little orphan Harry ... who's going to notice Caradoc Dearborn going missing? Which then circles back to the 'You didn't kill off Caradoc Dearborn' comments. Gah!

Which all just goes to show the ridiculous lengths fanfic writers go to for their hobby. The canon isn't even bothered about being compliant with itself, and here I am trying to make it all make sense because if I can't somehow fit in these contradictory facts and make them work, someone somewhere will tell me I did it wrong and judge my fic accordingly... and maybe tell other people that my story wasn't as canon compliant as it claimed to be.

I want to write a canon compliant fic about the First Wizarding War and canon itself is making that difficult for me. And that is frustrating

[damienthepious]

lizard kissin’ lizard kissin’ lizard kissin’ lizard kissin’ but actually. in reality. maybe just some lizard hand holdin’. sortakinda. :3c

The Beast In On His Chain (chapter 14)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [ch 11] [ch 12] [ch 13] [ao3] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla, Sir Absolon

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, prisoner/guard dynamic, Dehumanization, (which feels like a weird word to use for a nonhuman person bUT. it’s what i got.), Despair, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (EVENTUALLY!!!! it’ll take a while), Captivity, Suicidal Thoughts, (that will be a theme throughout. inescapable in this particular fic. alas.), Eventual Romance, (Yes the dynamics in this one are fucked. honestly i’m kinda Stretching my limits these days.), (having fun with it. fucking around. it’s fine.), Recovery, (eventually), Self-Reclamation

Chapter Summary: A couple of conversations, from alternating perspectives.

Chapter Notes: Chapter specific warnings for descriptions of Arum's early captivity, implied torture, continuing references to starvation/dehydration, mentions of injury. Take care of yourselves and i love you!

~

Arum looks... better. A week or so of water and already-

He does not seem healed, exactly. He is still... worryingly thin, still with the echoes of bruises across his arms and his chest and his eye, though the swelling has gone down substantially. It's subtle, really. Damien is unsure if he would have noticed if he hadn't been looking quite so closely. His color-

He looks less... ashen grey, Damien thinks. His scales are colorless, still, washed out, but- paler, now. Almost... clearer? And the scales themselves seem less dry, cracked, brittle. Claws, too. He breathes a little easier.

(Damien's stomach twists and twists and twists and he cannot make himself believe that this is enough, but-)

Arum has been suspicious of him, still, intermittently. Now and again. He hasn't gone so far as to dump any more cups on Damien's head, thankfully, but- the amount of trust he has in Damien's motives seems to vary by the hour, as Damien sits patiently at the edge of Arum's plinth.

Damien asks, now. If Arum would not mind hearing Damien speak, compose, pray. His responses vary, as well, glaring and shaking his head or rolling his eyes into a reluctant nod, by turns. Damien stays quiet when asked, of course. It is difficult, admittedly, but- it seems a cruelty to give Arum a choice and then fail to follow through.

Once, Arum denies Damien's request to compose aloud, but then after a few hours the monster huffs, grimacing when Damien glances back towards him. He wrinkles his snout, the motion almost- cute, in a strange way, and then he looks away. Damien tries to give Arum a bit of grace, then, politely turning back to the front and his own thoughts, but after another heavy few seconds, he feels Arum's knuckles, just barely brushing the edge of Damien's elbow.

He twitches, turning perhaps a bit too quickly in surprise, and Arum pulls back, startled in his own right. The monster flicks his tongue after a moment, still uncomfortable, still flinching, and Damien-

"Did you..." Damien trails off, biting his lower lip for a moment before he tries again. "Did you need something of me?"

Arum's expression sours, and Damien remembers belatedly- pride, of course, and implying that he needs anything from Damien- poor choice of words, politeness seen as an insult, of course-

Arum sags after only a moment, though, something defeated in his eyes, and then he lifts a hand and gestures to the journal of poetry drafts in Damien's hands.

"Ah..." Damien blinks, lifting the journal almost unconsciously to press against his chest. "Wh... what would you... I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you mean."

Arum huffs again, points to the book, and then he flexes his hand oddly before he reaches to tap his own snout, his lips. He rolls his eyes as he does this, as if annoyed with himself, and then he flicks his hand out, waving vaguely towards Damien. It would seem like something of a dismissal, but...

Damien feels his own lips part. He swallows, and then tries, "You... you've changed your mind, about my... speaking?"

Arum frowns, and nods. He gestures to the book again.

Damien feels heat in his cheeks, the rawness of his poetic drafts inherently embarrassing, but...

It seems a cruelty, to give Arum a choice and then fail to follow through.

He lowers the pages from against his chest, takes a slow breath in, and starts to run through a verse that has been giving him particular trouble.

He tries, with difficulty, not to flush at the intensity of Arum's gaze upon him.

~

Arum does not know what to do with the new... amendments to his captivity.

Not that he has the freedom to do much of anything with it, but regardless. The sentiment stands.

His throat feels less raw than it has in... well. He does not actually know how long. Since the very first time he screamed it raw under the collar, when he raged and roared until the pain rendered him unconscious.

He think that he feels less tired, as well. That could be illusion, perhaps. It could be, instead, that Damien's presence in (what he assumes are) the daytime hours prevents him from fading into half-dreaming malaise, now. Even when the poet- when the knight is quiet, his presence is still a distraction, now that he simply prefers to... sit. On Arum's plinth. Within reach. The entirety of the shift, barring his allotted breaks.

(The knight is becoming oddly smooth, when it comes to rising and snatching up his weapons and pretending that he had been doing nothing whatsoever that he isn't allowed, when the other guards creak the door open to relieve him.)

He comes and sits close enough that Arum can scent the world outside on his skin, on his clothes.

Always, he smells of feathers and paper and ink, and the particular scent of his own hair and skin (which Arum, to his consternation, thinks that he could recognize in his sleep, now). Intermittently he smells of horses, of turned soil. Flowers. The scent of honeysuckle returns now and again, alongside lavender and roses and mint. He must enjoy plums, for how often his hands bear the scent of that delicate, cool flesh. The scent of other humans lingers on him with reasonable frequency, as well, but without their context, that is all Arum knows. Someone who enjoys talking as much as Sir Damien... it isn't particularly surprising that he would require other creatures with which to prattle and fritter away his time.

Once, he comes-

Droplets crowning his hair, again, damp darkening the armor on his shoulders, and when Damien puts his weapons on the stones away from Arum and shakes himself out, the reality of thunderstorm shivers in Arum's bones. He can taste it. The vague hint of a spark on the air, the thick rich scent of the rain. Mud on the knight's boots. And the distant, almost ignorable intermittent rumble Arum can sense through the stone, buzzing against his scales, he recognizes at last as thunder.

Damien had been grimacing as he shook a hand through his hair, but something in Arum's eyes must stop him short, because the poet's steps falter for a beat, and his cheeks darken when he meets Arum's gaze.

"Ah- er, it's just... raining," he says, lamely, and Arum wishes for perhaps the thousandth time that he could simply tell this creature how utterly absurd he is. In all capacities. He settles for a look, and Damien's face scrunches in something of a wince. "I know, I know." He sighs, and then he tilts his head, considering, his eyes up on the ceiling for a long moment. "Hm."

Arum glares. The force of it draws Damien's attention, and after a moment he shakes his head again (the rain-scent redoubling in Arum's snout).

"The thunder," he says, quietly. "I didn't realize... this deep, you can barely even hear it. It could just as well be the middle of a sunny day, or the depths of a snowstorm, or a humid haze, and we would never know the difference, secreted away in this cryp-"

He pauses, inhaling sharply and almost swallowing the word, but- he catches Arum's eye again. Arum knows what word he said. Damien knows he knows. The knight gives a rather mirthless, uncertain smile, and he sighs.

"Well. Regardless. I'm sup-" another pause. "Rather, I thought I should ask... may I take a look at your hand? The one that was injured, I mean," he says when Arum pulls his head back, wary. "I want to see how it has been healing, if that's alright with you."

Arum glances down to the hand in question, then glares back up at Damien. He can see the hand perfectly well, can't he?

Damien's smile takes on a little more warmth, and he takes a step closer. "May I look a bit closer, I mean," he says. "I- I'd like to see if the swelling has gone down. Your eye looks better, but... the hand was rather more unfortunate, and I want to be sure."

Why, Arum thinks, again. For perhaps the thousandth time. Why does the knight care?

He flexes his fingers, far less sore and stiff than they had been, and then he sighs. He settles a little more comfortably (not comfortably, in truth, but- more so) and offers the offending limb out towards the knight.

Damien almost looks surprised, for a heartbeat, and then his smile shifts even wider, and softer, and he leans against the plinth, lifting his own hands to take Arum's.

Arum twitches at the touch. He can't help it. Even his fingertips are hot like coals, and Arum can feel droplets of water from the rain dotting his skin, too, oddly intimate against Arum's scales. Damien makes a noise in the back of his throat, wordless but soothing, and he very carefully turns Arum's hand in his own, his eyes intent and observant.

Arum imagines that his own eyes must bear a similar look, watching Damien in return, trying to focus on anything besides that touch. He flicks his tongue, taking all of it (rain hair orange peel spark of lightning skin rain soil honeysuckle linen rain green growing things rain) in as one sensation. It feels something like hunger, at the core of him. A want so sharp that it hurts. It coalesces oddly: he remembers with a sudden pulse a particular landscape Amaryllis had shown, raindrops on a river, hazy lines in the air to show the falling droplets, ruffling birds taking cover beneath a shrub, and-

(Ridiculous, the idea that he misses her. He does not know her. He knew her only briefly. She does not mean anything. She is not coming back.)

(She is not coming back.)

Arum swallows. Damien releases his hand, leaning back and leaving Arum's scales colder again. Arum curls his hands into fists, pressing them against his stomach as if that might keep the linger of mammal heat a moment longer. As if it isn't already too late.

"Seems that you're healing rather well," Damien says with a light smile, and then a sharpness comes to his eyes. "Now, at least. Do you imagine the water is helping?" he asks, and Arum-

(Rain on his cheek, still weighing his curls down, emphasizing every scent, is the water helping? Helping-)

(He means the canteen.)

Arum shakes his head to clear it, realizes that Damien will likely take that as a negation, and then he huffs. He gives a shrug, tipping his head sideways in what he hopes will read as a so-so gesture. He doesn't know, of course. It feels like, perhaps, it might be. But how would he know?

Damien nods slowly, a thoughtful turn to his lips, and then he allows himself to sit, perching on the lip of Arum's plinth, his usual place.

(His usual place?)

"Would..." the poet's voice slows, and then he hesitantly raises his eyes to meet Arum's. "Would food help, as well, do you think?"

[northern-polaris]

Hiraeth (1/?)

Hi so someone bullied me into posting this so now we’re here. This is just pure self-indulgence and it’s not going to make sense. Enjoy? No beta we die like Andras doesn’t.

 Summary: I couldn’t think of a good summary so this is basically modern Tamlin with canon universe Lucien. Don’t worry about it. But all that stuff is going to happen later and this chapter is going to be sad tam hours. 

Honestly, it was Andras’ fault. His friend just had to call him to bombard him with worries, inquiries, and other related issues. As if he didn’t already have enough of those already. Just more items to add to the seemingly never-ending list of things for Tamlin to torture himself with in the dead of night. 

The conversation made him vulnerable; made him uncover old, festering wounds that marred his mind, sending him back to that ‘bad place’ that Alis would warn him about. stalking through the desolate halls, he shouted curses and damnations against the backdrop of deafening silence. Anything that would have drowned out the roaring in his head. 

Noon gave way to afternoon, afternoon to late evening, and finally late evening to early morning when Tamlin finally regained some sense of clarity. 

Upon his returned consciousness, he marched out to the back patio that overlooked the forest he often dreamed of disappearing into. He dug around in his pockets, searching for something, hoping almost desperately that he would find it. The discovery of his phone on his person revealed that he had missed several messages, Tamlin was both too high-strung and exhausted to respond to them yet, and that wasn’t even what he was looking for anyways. 

After checking every pocket and rummaging around the patio for longer than he cared to admit, he finally found what he needed. 

Cigarettes. Thank fuck. 

His celebration was short-lived once he realized that he didn’t have anything to light them with. A few more curses and crashes later, he scrounged up some matches. That would have to do in the meantime until he could find his lighter. 

With great haste, he lit the ‘death stick’(nickname courtesy of Andras), placed it in between his lips, and took a deep inhale. The burning in his lungs was a welcome and familiar sensation, his muscles already relaxing alongside his racing heart. 

He was on his third cigarette when Tamlin finally bothered to check his phone messages. One was from Andras; a simple question about how he was feeling. He ground his teeth and felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. He didn’t need all this monitoring. He didn’t need to be coddled or handled like something delicate or breakable. 

He was fine. 

After taking another much needed drag from his cigarette, he tried to calm himself and his newfound ragged breathing. Breathe. In, hold, out, repeat. He didn’t know how Andras tolerated him.

After what felt like hours but revealed to be only a few minutes as shown on his clock, Tamlin tightened the reins on his emotions and tapped out a quick reply:

[Everything is fine.]

Because it was. 

The other messages were both from Alis, his back straightening at the sight of them. He could practically hear her stern but warm voice chastising him for slouching as she typically did. She always scolded him for his ‘less than desirable’ habits, and he respected that the stubborn woman never let off with it. God forbid if he ever told her that though. 

[Hello Tamlin, I hope that you are having a good day.]

He readjusted the death stick in his mouth and kept reading.

[I wanted to let you know that I shall be returning from vacation with my nephews next week, Monday. Andras told me about what happened earlier, which you didn’t mention in your last update.]

He vowed to kill that fucking snitch one of these days. 

[And now I expect you to give me daily updates until my return. Furthermore, I want to remind you to eat dinner. It’s good for you.]

[Good night, try to sleep well.]

The messages from Alis and Andras were sent around two P.M. Tamlin checked the time to find that it was nearly one A.M. 

He sighed and slouched again in the chair he didn’t remember sitting down in. Monitoring and Coddling on both fronts. Great. Just. Fucking. Great. 

He stubbed out his cigarette and tossed it precariously in the direction of the trash, letting his head lean back until he was staring at the ceiling, looking for something that he didn’t understand. He squinted when he thought he saw something move, but it was most likely something his brain conjured up. Nonetheless, he kept staring.   

It reminded him of the story where a woman stared at her yellow wallpaper until she went mad. He made himself chuckle at the mental image of him creeping around like she did, biting bed posts and ripping apart accursed paper confinements. 

It sure felt tempting. 

After an indefinite amount of time just waiting for the ceiling to move, Tamlin decided to at least try to make something that he could sink his teeth into. For Alis’ sake. 

He could make a steak, pretend that it was Andras, and promptly rip it to shreds. That was enough motivation to make him slip out of his chair on shaky legs and walk back inside. 

He stumbled into his kitchen and swung the freezer door open, nearly ripping it off the hinges. Letting out a noise that could have been a growl, he regarded the packaging of beef that he had forgotten to separate earlier. All of the cuts were frozen together.

With already frayed nerves and a complete lack of patience, he rationalized that he could pry one off the heap with a simple knife. It went through like butter for about halfway, and then the knife got stuck. 

Tamlin grunted in frustration, applied more force, and it still had the gall to not move. He decided then to throw all caution to the wind and placed his other hand at the other end of the pile for more leverage and stabbed through it as hard as he could. 

“Fuck!” 

Well, that was certainly more blood than Tamlin was comfortable with.

[kachikirby]

Im here with an "all about Fetty" ask!

For the roleplay interview! -> 8, 3, and 5 for Fettuccine!

For ready set novel! -> 6, 9, 20 and 21 for Mirror Fetty!

Thanks for the ask! this will probably be a bit long so I'm putting it under a cut!

Roleplay Interview

3. Umm... I would say my childhood is mostly uneventful or not that interesting. I was just a normal Limet girl with Limet parents who loved me a lot. Thankfully, I was raised in a place that wasn't Anti-Limet or at least barely had anyone who was, so I didn't have to deal with a lot of the hate my species gets. Oh, but there was one thing that made me different. I was a child genius, so I was able to skip maybeeee... two grades and graduate early? Probably helped that the Organization seeked me out, so I had a job when I was out of high school.

5. I think my biggest role model would be my big bro, Risotto. You think it's because he's big and strong... well, he is, but I admire him because he's also nice and gentle. I'd also have to say my big sis Pandoro is also an inspiration as well because she's really nice despite having a tough life. Oh, maybe Kurabe is one for me as well. She's really cool and elegant, at least on the surface if you know what I mean. Not that she's hiding anything bad, of course. She's good at getting people to slip up and give information, which is like... super inspirational for an interrogator like me. It makes me want to improve myself to be able to extract information from her some day myself!

8. Oh, I have a few things I like to do for fun. I love to sew plushies, do a bit of shopping in my free time, and sometimes I like dressing up. Oh, and I do love teasing Meta of course! He's really cute when he's embarrassed!

Ready Set Novel

Uhhh gonna drop a warning here for implied or mentioned torture, not gonna go into detail with it tho.

6. "My first kiss is not much, actually. It was actually shortly after I appeared in the Mirror World and was able to find Dark. I just walked up to him, picked him up, and kissed him. He was squirming and hitting me while shouting to let go, but honestly, that just turned me on more~"

9. Shadow Kirby didn't know what he was expecting to see when he finally managed to fix the elevator, but he was simotaniously both suprised and not when he did see what was inside. Standing there was Dark Fettuccine, looking as if nothing happened, while on the floor, seemingly crushed up into a sports ball was Shadow Dedede.

"Oh, it's about time! I was getting tired of playing with this guy after he pissed me off! Thank you, Shaddy!" She giggled as she skipped off, likely to go see her boyfriend as usual.

The puff gave a sigh as he began to drag the darkened penguin out so he can return to his normal form.

"You really need to stop saying things to make her mad."

"Shut up."

20. [These song lyrics have been deleted due to content not safe for tumblr]

21. The unique thing about Mirror Fettuccine is that she doesn't really do anything too bad because she's mostly the same as her counterpart with some exceptions (i.e. being a sadomasochist and slightly taking on one of the other infamous traits about rabbits). But her worse thing would probably just be simply torturing Shadow Dedede until he shattered into glass and then keeping the last fragment of his glass needed to reconstruct him hidden in her hair until Shadow Kirby literally had to beg her to give it back, and even then, she broke it in half again and threw it out the window, making him spend several weeks looking for it.

She really does not like Shadow Dedede.

[transmascrage]

Man I just came to the realisation that the "summer camp" (in quotations because it wasn't like a typical summer camp anyway, it was only a week in a house in the mountains) my parents forced me to go every summer was literally a religious retreat. No wonder I hated it so much.

To be fair there were a lot of things I hated about it. First of all the fact that I was constantly around people, both because we were all under the same roof and because the adults needed to look after us.

And being an introvert I was always super tired all the time. But most of all I think it also meant I had to literally mask for an entire week non-stop.

Plus the kids that went to this thing were either the ones from religious families or the asshole sporty kids who wanted to spend time with their friends (or maybe their parents were sick of them). So I also had to mask extra carefully so I wouldn't be weird.

It was also a super gendered space. Boys and girls slept in different rooms (often the boys in one big room and the girls divided between the other rooms. Never the other way around, for some reason. Probably for the best for me though.)

Naturally all of the kids there were catholic or atheist. I did ask the adults if people of other religions could come once.

Not that there were any in my hometown. But I knew a Jehova's witness kid and I wondered if he could come. Of course, now I know his parents wouldn't have let him come anyways, but as a kid I had no idea.

They told me yeeeess, of course they can come :))))) but honestly a non-Catholic kid would have probably been really annoyed and confused at this camp.

We were divided in four groups. One group set and cleaned the tables for meals, one group cleaned the rooms and bathrooms (the worst), one group decided on prayers (the best because we'd choose random ones and go on our merry ways) and one group decided on the evening games.

The first group's chores were called "corvées" which is what peasants did in their lord's property in feudal times.

Appropriate name, because the entitlement with which some people demanded we brought them water or more food than others was infuriating.

Don't even get me started on how eating was pure torture because we couldn't decide on the menu and the textures were always bad bad bad. But no adult would take that as an excuse, so I (and my brother) had to finish everything on our plates while gagging or literally tearing up.

Sometimes a small business of swapping plates with a kind soul who really liked the dish was established, but it had to be done in secret because the adults didn't like that.

Before every meal there was a short prayer but at least it was fun because we got to bang on the tables and sing, right? Nope, too loud and scary for my stupid fucking brain.

Then after eating that group had to stay behind and clean up.

In both this and the group that cleaned rooms and bathrooms gender roles were reinstated again. Boys were also supposed to clean just as much as girls, but in practice they just stood around or went outside to play. The first few times I spoke up, then I gave up because nothing was done.

It's important to note that the adults with us were people in their early 20s, and way too few to look after us. Honestly I don't know how so many parents were comfortable leaving their children with maybe 10 young adults.

The cleaning duties were the worst because cleaning the bathrooms was disgusting as fuck. Sensory issues relating to smells + my weak stomach = hell.

During the morning we did activities relating somewhat to christianity. They usually were supposed to be metaphors for something Jesus said, but nobody except me actually gave a shit.

In the afternoon we played team games. This was one of the parts I hated the most because I'm super uncoordinated, and remember the active kids I mentioned earlier? Yeah they didn't like that.

Technically we were competing for a prize. Sometimes they did give a better snack to the winner or something. But the big prize was supposedly at the end of the week. I can't remember anything special about that prize so I guess it wasn't that great after all.

Obviously swearing was forbidden, but it's not like that stopped kids from doing it.

In the evening we'd sit in a huge circle pray and then...the games.

Usually it was things like "Wolves" you know, the game where you try to figure out who are the wolves.

But there was one traditional game. Dames and Knights.

Four girls got chosen and sat down on chairs. Four boys would come in and had to figure out who the girl they were paired with was. If they got it right they got a kiss, if they didn't they got slapped.

It was the yearly ritual of the popular kids. And also the humiliation round for the ugly girls. The snickers and gags from girls and boys were downright traumatic.

I only went through it once, the year I was "dating" (we were 9) a boy and another also liked me. It was extremely humiliating.

The rest of the years I got to watch the popular kids get cheered on and "oooh'd" at. Naturally it couldn't be two boys or two girls. Not that any openly queer kids would be acknowledged as queer here.

My anxiety got forged with steel in those rooms. One time, when I was very young, I peed myself because I was too scared to get up and ask to go to the bathroom. What if they all looked at me? What if I was bothering the adults with my question?

I used to get bored and drag my feet on the ground and imagine I was making invisible drawings on the ground.

Then we went to bed.

The worst days were confession day and walk day.

Confession day was when the town's priest would come visit and let us fess up our sins. We had to sit by ourselves in silence and figure out what we did that the Lord should forgive us for.

Then the priest would hold a mass. It wasn't mandatory to attend per se, but you did get bothered over and over by the adults until you went.

Walk day was when we'd hike up to the mountain. I'm not an athletic guy and I wasn't an athletic girl. I usually lagged behind. The cooks would give us our sandwiched for lunch, but we weren't allowed to choose if we wanted cheese, salame or ham.

And I. Fucking. Hate. Cheese.

The best moment was going home. I got to sit on the bus and zone out and daydream. We got our phones back (yeah, no phones allowed) and could finally check social media.

When I arrived my mom would always ask me "Did you have fun?" and I always said "No." and my mom said it hurt the counselors feelings when I said that.

And I can't give less of a fuck. Because every goddamn year I would say I didn't wanna go. And every year they ask, and beg, and insist and insist and insist until I gave in.

Insisting and insisting has been how people have always gotten me to do whatever they wanted. They bank either on me saying yes until they stop asking, and procrastinating until then because I really don't wanna do it; or making me feel guilty because I might hurt their feelings.

I always wish I could be more of an asshole to people. And I don't mean "be more assertibe", I mean tell them to fuck off and hope they die in a hole.

Unfortunately I always project how I would feel on them. And how that reflects on the communities I'm part of. Plus when I'm really mad I'm not even funny, I get really serious and cruel.

Anyways. Fuck religious retreats.

[albatris]

3. A song that 🥺 ouchie hurts angst

16. Your personal favorite song on the playlist

:D!! thank you for the ask!

I'll answer for rental car and atdao 'cause they're my main two wips :3

oof ouch hurt angst song for rental car.... hm.... my favourite oof ouch song for rental car is "from the mouth of an injured head" by radical face, it's. not a song I can talk much on without providing VERY spoilery context but it makes my heart hurt re: nat and quinn and the ending of the story

Well, hold me against the floor / Use something to bind my hands / 'Cause I don't know where I have been / And I don't know what I have seen / But the puzzle is carved into me / And I know that I miss you / But I don't even know your name

:))))))

oof ouch hurt angst for atdao...... "if this ship sinks (I give in)" by birds of tokyo lmao. edgy angsty tris tune. poor kid

There's too many signs to read them all / There's too many roads I need to stumble down / I've gotta get my head straight / ... I want to know if this is for real / I've gotta know what fate has planned for me / I give in / I give in / I give in / I give in

:)))))))))))

my favourite song from either playlist changes from week to week so this is a tough question to answer!

for rental car my favourite might be "hey, runner!" by the arcadian wild! it's just got such a fun catchy sound and energy and I rarely skip it when it comes up :3 a funky little early-story quinn/nat tune to contrast the late story one up there!

Go take a ride on your high horse / And don't you wait to ask for more / I've got an eternity of time to abuse / Never mind, it's all for you to use / I'm still just a volunteer

and for atdao, oh, it's gotta be "sirin" by birds of tokyo!! which is coincidentally also one of my favourite songs of all time. goes hard as fuck near the end

Few know what to do / Consumed by an ego that turned on the truth / A deep-seated torture you fight in your sleep / The right side's a demon / The left side is weak / And it's hard being human

but honestly this is my fave just for the sake of blasting it full volume in my car and screaming along to "ANYYYYYMOOOOOOOORE" after the dramatic rising buildup n "you're not an animal" repetition

it's my favourite atdao tune tied with one of my favourite atdao scenes <3333

[renatedagmarmilada]

UNO Project, THE TIMES 1991—and BBC

run by St Barths Human Research //

hence all to be returned to victim as it was....as science projects always returned to their former

Lynne – they track everything at the lab, all can be returned- insist it is returned.

  Intellectual Property--

lab calls this REDUCTION part of an EXTREME EXPERIMENTAL PROGRAM- Health Ministry Minister Arnold signed for- your lives are forfeit you are so vulnerable that it is easy to strip you and mess with you-

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

WE ARE DECENT, USEFUL, HARD Working CITIZENS - with a lot of talent-

daughter Rachel De Souza head mistress of Victory Colleges

son Project Engineer for Becktels USA

two younger sons destroyed by lab called SIBLING TESTS- tortured remote mercilessly- third son crippled from years of torture of unimaginable cruelty- it would take Nuremberg trials to get anywhere near what has been done to both boys, fourth son has no feeling in Genitalia (Mohammad and yussuf) and scarred for ever/ cheated endlessly and left penniless- because the lab used them as young children and destroyed their normal life proceedures as can be seen by the difference between the two children brought up by my  ex and me and these two, played with by the lab constantly from early teens and before-

11.7.13 TODAY WE BEGIN THE LIES ABOUT THE ACCOUNTS- UP TO NOW WE HAVE COUNTED IT HONESTLY – WE OWE YOU ABOUT £6,500+ £11,000 taken from the HYPO by all the Pak Operatives

SSE—I put £100 on to your gas bill, I was going to create small bills afterwards but you had the meter but in.

Everything is being oovered with lies since the last week--

lab st barths human research  has copy of everything on lab computer and I want copies of everything I have done sine they began persecuting and terrorising me- I have not even started about the remote torture, which has been unbelievable

UNO signed something to give ST Barths Human Research permission, but were not told what the lab was actually doing- UNO told them they had to let the victims know what they were doing. After the act, they put something over a tv progr. (they have a studio at the BBC and a director Sydney, who works for them-) or music etc-- when it is far too late, often a long time later- and bank cheating, never...........they just say, we have 'used' banks.

St Barths Human Research  "we will average her. We intend to steal absolutely everything she has.they  came to the UK in 1947- penniless refugees we intend her to get out like that, we cannot afford a scandal- our Pakistani operatives to drive you out and kill you if you don't go, as our abuses and crimes were too many- including using your children when very young-

used also as King's whipping boy - separated by lab as Royal/sexing used as for Royals-

Lynne lab person - the lab tracks everything they have had stolen and can return it-

****HOUSE BREAK IN’s Since 23 May to 1st June—at least five, Pakistani Operative opened doors remote, more copy cat break ins to before- “WE SENT THREE WEST INDIANS DONE FOR VIOLENT CRIMES IN AND SOME MORE MIDDLE EASTERN GIRLS TO ROB HER—“ half a dozen oil pastel sketches on black paper and some books with texts taken and goods.. lab pakistani St Barths Human Research operative it is what Dr Meyer Edgeware Rd wanted- Dr Meyer some will be returned, but doctored and downgraded!

--leave once cod liver oil tablet left on stairs, once wardrobe door swinging, three time elastic tied to  Ugo out—uses Carribean, more local girls and Slovak..

I was ordered to by Anna Grey of The Ministry of Health. I want everything returning- my papers and my goods stolen – they call it thieving therapy.

Anna Grey Health Ministry, junior Secretary (to keep her safe from law) I will give her a little pay out to pay for their lives if she asks for a therapy to be taken into account, nothing else.

-I WISH FOR EVERYTHING TO BE RETURNED- PHOTOS, PAINTINGS, TEXTS academic and creative AND THAT MONEY TAKEN BY LAB STAFF

 Tracker is on and all thefts are followed--

I am not asking for compensation- I just want ALL that is mine back and will go then.

microsound/ all operatives have stolen something of value,  the lab directed them and rolled savings and pension out of her bank account-

program signed for by someone at U.N. "we did not tell him what we were really going to do"

Royals gave permission, shown bogus film by second porn starlet, with Renate head supplanted

/studio at the BBC director Sidney/ all goes throughEmley Moor mast/ Guys Hospital aware/ paid for by USA Human Research 63 million, and 7 million by Brussels, who have called abort many time, not intended like this/

began interference in our lives 1983- began program 1991 THE TIMES insert/ anything goes as long as you cross the t's and dot the i's/beaming our lives to New York sister lab, beam looped to all world to strong receivers/ set off alarms at St Monica/ USA give us all you have- outlawed programs, unusable programs etc

put all family on monitor and copied my work from beginning and lab members used as their own, Cosmopolitan etc. all of us have suffered/

Lab-we will turn it round and make them guilty - used a banned psychiatrist Karl for info on how to destroy- dr Meyer Edgeware Rd London,- John and Lauren Redbridge neighbour of Milliband and daughter Fay, used all my work.

Operative Simon french- gave all my work painted and written and raised artificially wife Jean Beaumond, now using her husbands name  as I have put her name everywhere-

to cover gross misconduct- bossess moved to Health Ministry so untouchable by law (former lovers, Minister Arnold, several Senior Civil  Servants- bossess Anna  Grey gave my uni work to friends and Ministry Personell- my family history to Junior Health Minister- who wrote 27 pages into his book =former jews from east, ???? my family were rich artisans and we come from the lush Urals 500 years ago, not sandy Isreal, poor workers??? Pamela Pensions, given my UEL german texts for daughter who was studying German, I am naturally tri lingual!  -- translations are lodged at the Goethe Institute in London   )  

silver medal for poetry, / father’s pocketwatches   The Iraaqi thief for the lab stole our large bottle of Channel 5 from your eldest son.

Pakistani operatives had each of the local thieves take five items out of home--

 16.07.2013 another thief sent in, took personal address book by phone and other stuffs—will check.

Taken Criminal Slang Dictionary

European Mythology dictionary

Other books...

(used it the other day) Paki operative using local Slovaks (we are repeating all previous crimes- took address book in 2010---) TO QUALIFY ALL THEFTS Dr Meyer Edgeware Rd London has told us to say you are Starting again and have to be stripped of all things—

This means they are still opening my door by laser from the lab St Barths Human Research as only I live here and I NEVER leave a door open

DR MEYER ASKED US TO STRIP HER OF EVERYTHING—THE FENCE FROM FIRTH PARK SELLS HER STUFF AT PUBS AS DOES THE ENGLISH THIEF UP THE HILL...

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

 3.June 2013- GIVE HER TO US< WE WILL DESTROY HER FOR YOU- Mohammad-

"we had no defence for what we have done so we had to phase her out.."                            

3.June 2013 More of my texts disappeared from my Folder, China Write—

9th June, found another of her poetry books, translations of Ukrainian poems/Slovak

Leather handbag— Pakistani sent in 2west indian druggies – we took 6 items It took half an hour. All our sons shirts too-

Paki lab op – Leoni Sheffield HallamUni stole and used my Grimsby School of Art work  besides 300 Euros etc and Marrisa Longley College- Sheffield stole 3 paintings, whole book of paintings Two Months in St Petersburg—etc 45 and 46 Lloyd Street Sheffield was a set up by Op Sayed..

Adam Kahn Hiinde house lane took my box of stories he had stolen from cousin in Danrell to cousin at 59 Idesworth rd Sheffield- who then passed  to west indians 59 HornDean road-sheffield – thw carib women there have been copying it all – though it is clearly marked, Sheffield Uni Writers Group, / Sheffield Art College Psalter lane Sheffield – etc as their own work sending it off, as the lab watches.. Pakistani’s want every single thing to be stolen.. so I retunn to Germany naked they say—because we were EXVELLENT citizens

 Firevale Group of West indians are still passing the notes and essays and poems they wrote round theiir community though they know who and what I am--

 Three blogs off Facebook, anna now rules the uK

9th July 2013 another break in, left things about, tried out stuff Lilly of tthe valley etc put one or two things back downgraded – insturctions to paki lab operatives, confuse.. Sketch Pad

Adam Kahn Hinde House Lane Sheffield moves my stolen box of family history texts, texts from Psalter Laner art college daily diary, University of Sheffield writers Group etc to cousin at 59/61 Idesworth Road Sheffield

 Massive numbers of drafts and emails from off my computer which lab St Barths has wiped and not sent on

hacking into all poetry sites constantly, wiping off and changing into rubbish poems-- and MY folders- taking off paintings,poetry, essays etc

spring 2003 lab began shredding a mass of your letters at the lab St Barths Hum Res- we used trick form to always get your post first..just one director.

Intellectual property

WE WILL REPLACE IT WITH INFERIOR COPIES WE WILL MAKE

3.June 2013—Paki Op- I sent in a thief last week, he took TWO MORE SKETCH BOOKS FILLED WITH YOUR LIFE DRAWINGS- I want you to  have all copies and others the real thing..

Lab Lloyds Bank—we autograph your sketches and paintings with our own names-

**************I do not need their copies, paintings, sketches or writings, or essays I wish for my originals, or the copies from ANNA GREY MINISTRY OF HEALTH- copies from her monitor..I do not need their stupidity..***

(already one of my stories a copy of theirs)

From Luggage June 2012-John Appleyard Barnsley

used two Iraqi thieves:

I WANT IT ALL RETURNING

30 water colours stolen by lab

15 books full of texts by lab

endless diaries  AT  LEAST 20 stolen 9.4.13

photographs of family from war and before/ President Masaryk and Russian Major liberating Europe

large new box Windsor Newton paints- and small box..

use local thieves everywhere to steal originals:"let them destroy them and we will keep copies"

ie 60 Torsten Rd Sheffield, Amy- Idesworth rd Sheffield and numerous carribeans in area have box of my work, Art degree College Diary, Creative writing degree, Literature and german degree etc

 24 Popple street Sheffield thief, son has signed my sketches as his own passed onto friend

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------NO M.A. CERT PERMITTED- LAB bossess ANNA GREY I DO NOT WANT ANYMORE EDUCATION-- SHE IS A SECOND. TOLD GERMAN STUDIES PROF DOING EXPERIMENTS BUT NOT WHAT-  I wish the return of  my MA certificate NOW

Teaching books stolen by lab in suitcases stolen by lab/ in parcel from Italy stolen by lab- also reading books from posted packages

I wish the teaching books returning now

Two Spelling teaching books, one taken by west indian induced to break in/ science teaching book- (I think lab)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------families of-  AND lab operatives and even spin doctor Meyer all used my work constantly from beginning - there is nothing you can do about it-

whilst destroying all I tried to achieve

Ana Meyer- sells copies of my sketches to design centres, recently another to Calvin Klein.£300, also to Paco Rabin, M&S, Top Shops etc she has hundreds of my work over 25 years. Niece also Topshops/nephew has all recent work/ etc

Fay daughter of Redbridge John the sadist killer and wife lauren, who wrote my stories as jewish stories to People's Friend

Fay has copied paintings by the dozen and sold them as her own and stories

Jean Beaumond, copied paintings and stories wife of operative Simon.Now using her own name and work, after having used all mine

writer Brierley given my diaries to put into his books as padding--

THE LAB St Barths - Health Ministry ESTABLISHES CERTAIN FAVOURITES AND USEFUL STARS AS LONG AS THEY ARE PREPARED TO USE YOUR /MY WORK- THEY ARE PUT IN THE WAY OF CONTACTS TO RAISE THEM, WHICH THE LAB THEN ENSURES--- THE BIGGEST SCAM EVER IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND-I quote-

Alyson, destroyed paintings even as she cannot draw, by inking them, I WANT THE COPIES On the lab MONITOR sells my work by signing the originals - list is endless, Mrs Pocklington Cricklewood, etc I am told afterwards, by 'their methods' over tv program, microsound, over music etc - which the asian operatives use for sexual and other abuses, also during nights, Meyer, she will think she dreamt it and weaken. Harrassed through Colleges and Universities- 'we wanted to use you not a lecturer. we gave the marks.'

Bernice manageress of St Barths presently, has three of my books printed several of my poetry RETURN

Alan Manager of St Barths presently has three of my books - has printed several of my poems etc RETURN

Dr they call Harry, recently retired from Middlesex Hospital, London, has several books of mine, "I have taken all I want from them"

also sons of ALan and Harry used my thesis of Jews in Germany - for A level to get into prestigious colleges, School of Economics and London Uni.  told lecturers it was jewish work (my info came from Hungarian writer not published..)

I WANT ALL COPIES OF MY UNI WORK BACK-- ALL THE DEGREES-- Myer even had art college paintings stolen

Op. Mohammad I took some of victims book home and gave the rest to Fay to use as her own. the staff are all given all her work from off the computer, to use as their own..

24.4.13 all her poetry books except one stolen from luggage coming from Spain

23.4.13 Dr Myer Edgeware Rd took five books full of life drawing sketches,about  200 sketches in all

lab distributes the papers to people I want them back

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

several papers to MohsinKahn

several to Sister in Law Christine

a lot to  Bernard, jewish Refrom Doctor formerly sheffield hospital

lab itself, 20 of your paintings from luggage by OPERATIVE MEGAN who also took money from LLOYDS BANK ACCOUNT twice 110-and 80

all the Pakistani BIBI ETC operatives take 150 from bank account

Operative Amina, takes £280 off HSBC moneys into machine puts into Pakistani woman's acount

Firth Park Bank Clerk takes off £400 only records - did not check till got home

Market, give stall £20 does not giver approp change operative

fleeing to Germany I put money in Hypo bank-- each of eleven pakistani operatives took £1000 from HYPO- bank account - they call it rolling it out..

Berlin Human Research paid to take part incase I flee over there- come to lab

Werner ties my computer to their at the lab

all operatives given all my log ins and bank account numbers

Megan I took about 20  family photographs- including from baby places, irreplaceable, refugee never to be seen again

luggage from Spain slit open box- took three books filled with poetry etc to Bernice, manageress of the lab

Leoni 46 Lloyd street, essays / designs etc from Grimsby school of Art Foundation/moneys from purse £300/ 2 phones etc spring 2012 lab tuned thieves

Marissa 45 Lloyd street WHOLE BOOK of sketches/ designs, goods

9.4.13- 20 diaries from box----

Alyson /Meg wrote my s stories from illegal processing as her own, WORSE she defaced 20 of my sketches—I am primarily an artist who teaches.

LAB OPERERATIVE SCRIBBLE ON MY SKETCHES AND BURN THE ORIGINAL COPIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BBC- 5.7.13 I made a book of sketches using your work, including a lot of from your life drawings-

THE LAUREN GROUP – Jewess..

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UPON RETIREMENT I INTENDED TO WRITE PAPERS ON THESE TEXTS AND PRINT PAINTINGS--as books

re two books already PAPER BATTLESHIPS and THE LEFT FOOTERS--

many poems printed in INBOX books and others

exhibitions at Sheffield Library and Art Tower Sheffield Uni amongst others- Islington Library, Leeds Library etc

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

three weeks ago-Slovak 24 Popple st Sheffield/sketch books from bedside/diaries and texts-son tracing sketches (3 lots of them now)

3 months ago/ Iraqi teenager Robey St Sheffield/four text books full of work poetry Uni degrees

oct 2012 Earl 95 Lloyd street - MASS of Uni texts and goods and 96 Lloyd st -west indians 2/3 entries

7 Lloyd st now at Manor estate-2 west indian/ chinese goods, sons£1000+ money from pockets and texts-- chinese jacket purple worth £500

wensley estate sheffield/ older west indian 3/4 entries sold my goods  to local african wmn 4 pure silk robes £300 at least, and many other items brought from teaching in China-

Photographs of war time, russian friends given me- in Russia  

GCE certs/ Sheffield Uni Russian cert/Sheffield Poly Cert Art and art history foundation also all several Scotland Yard clearance forms since 2002 yearly.. \Baptismal forms  etc etc

4 silk robes China £300/sketch books etc etc by Wensley Estate sheffield Thief west indian

Earl Marshall Rd thief used by Lab- Firvale sheffield 4 russian carved boxes/ two sets beautiful cards etc# taken because we said "the Hungarian human research chief paid to come to England, did not like Russians" (?) in boxes ready to post as presents to my grandsons beautiful sets of russian cards, I bought on trip russia with Twinning Donetsk Sheffield with Sheffield University.

Sheffield Fence, Firth park, short blonde stubby nose all manner of stuff from China including catholic prayer plates/ etc things I bought in Qingdao Church and also memory baptism by my goddaughter Jun jun at Qingdao Church Christmas Eve 2003

Firvale west indian family, boys and Idesworth Rd Sheffield/ entered and robbed many texts used by the whole family and cousins even now, even read one in class as his own

Amy 4 Idesworth road used / several Rasta types, / 60 Horndean Rd Firthpark ALL using my work

Adam Kahn, HInde House lane Sheffield, entered stole box of books full of texts, 8 years from Sheffield Univerisity writers groups/Psalter Lane College art diaries/ sent them to cousin in Darnhall, then to Idesworth rd west indians - several Carribean women/Idesworth RD, Tideswell Rd  Firth park and Firvale Sheffield, copied and copying still them, now the young men are copying them/ incl now 56 Horndean Rd.

Operative Mustafa sent Slovak in again last Wednesday-- stole more art materials,etc and son's stuff..

cards from 1914 before- cards from friends, all manner of such different cards etc

sent MY ACTUAL sketches to Calvin Klein and Paco Rabin, signed with their names, cutting off comments I made at the time and dates - then all of them took some of my work and signed with their own names-

the entire work, including degree level work, to Stefany, placed in school and used

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HEALTH

November 2003- Wayne, lorry driver who threw 80 of my books for European Libraries into disused warehouse in east London-" may we hit her body Steven/ yes, bodies can be healed" 3pm hyped heart, so pounding. Since then used daily, including dredger on brain at nights, all night everynight some form of torture remote is used/little known technology..

SLUGGISH SYSTEMS HYPED REMOTE FOR WATERHEADS, MENTALLY HANDICAPPED AND PHYSICALLY HANDICAPPED

I would needs write a book hence they steal my diary as I recorded a lot of it in them-

MONEYS

each operative has to train to roll money out of my account

3 weeks ago, £100

Megan some months ago, twice £120 and £80 IN total some £6000+ no matter where I move it/ tried moving to germany Hypo bank- each Pakistani operative told to roll out£1000 for himself- one took £2000- used bank of England to do this? they have also falsified cheques etc they call it and EVERY CRIME THEY DO AS AN ISSUE - not a crime, anything, even deaths

EVERY TRICK IMAGINABLE IS TRIED so I get massive power bills when I rarely use my gas fire, phone bills I have not used etc

every other type of trick tried, with de-energy anything can be made to happen- most sophisticated machine ever, given to cleaners and carers by the most corrupt group ever to exist

I had sold  house to escape several times

Student at leipzig Uni, sister Uni of UEL for one year, Deutsch bank gave Polishstudent same card, she took grant out, left me penniless, Barclays constantly used - owe us a ton and lloyds

The lab has been taking my money none stop- trying to make us into beggars they say..because the former boss Steven had taken massive loans and got into debt-

all operatives have to try out all crimes and take for themselves, after service in the lab from cleaners and carers they are all moved to prime positions and middle management

ALL nightly BULLYING HAS TO BE HEARD TO BE BELIEVED-

evidently the Prince and Queen were shown a bogus film and file and told it was me, for permission. Not the government, then they too were told lies.

The worst killer is John of Redbridge- he says he hated me from the start, I have no idea who he is, or why as I am a very quiet person, traditional etc  They decided to break up our marriage at the beginning, which they do often, as with Royal couple-- but I know he is very, very rich -

Their Pakistanis call it teasing, call me a whore/tart etc constantly- do not ask me why? and then destroy as though I had done something to them--

HACKING INTO ACCOUNTS OF EVERY TYPE- Changing what is in them--

folders on my computer

/wiping off emails- de select

destroy contact with friends and family

Lost desirable job in Dalian China/ intentional

all operatives permitted to hack into my folders and take and change what they wish

Hacked into my sites, changed and took out poetry etc

hacked into bank accounts etc

all operatives permitted to copy and take home my work for their own use' Pakis have done so for their children-

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POST

christmas presents to Russia taken home by operatives

eaten chocolates etc thrown out books

book to China close friend professor, operative took home (japanese treatment of english in SIngapore)

all post taken to lab

return from teaching in Italy, box full- charge 50 Euros instead of 20-teaching books, etc operative took home

box to daughter from China, operative sent to family in India

box to Russian friend?

letters and small parcels always taken

Suitcase on flight to Beijing- one year teaching taken off tarmac Manchester to lab all taken to lab and operatives helped themselves, one sold on EBAY my stuff, super expensive artists paints, sketch books, teaching books, 20 silk shirts, etc etc hundreds ofUK CD's

              THE OPERATIVES TAKE MY GOODS HOME FOR THEIR FAMILIES AND SELL THEM ON EBAY..

Debra secretary- took photos of mum, frau Schulz, in Barton will never see again, wedding photos of both my elder children (I have NO photos of my elder children)etc

Wayne, threw 80 of my books to European Libraries into disused warehouse London

besides taking everything I send by post/ if I put one into library they have someone take it and not return it

the list is endless since 1984...............

PHYSICAL ABUSE AND ATTEMPTED MURDER

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

REPEATED SEXING (as Pr Diana)

AS All night 21.May 2013 (I am 68 years old on 23 May!!!) They used sexing on my mother when she was in her seventies) the bestial animals keep the womb irritant all night, as it is a dreadful feeling and every time you drop off to sleep the pigs put the lewd filth onto the dream continuing torture-

IRRITATIAON OF THE WOMB extremely uncomfortable and also makes me pee- they put on lewd, filthy dreams at the same time- unbelievably disgusting and keep it up all night repeatedly. pointless torture as most of this is..the pakis sit there all night messing the machine -elder white women teachers being tortured in their dirty little fantasies

the evil operatives often use this during lessons, for many years now- women dare not talk of such things, as they think it is their fault as a child with rape. with men they give them an urge to lunge and grab.. hence the Prince was given this treatment too and hence rape, technological rape

They tell their beasts I am to be raped and they have to put on thanks somewhere and that is all I require.

Radium B put on my co-ordinates-- also other type of killer substance--

DEBASEMENT even in Churches and working in Hospitals during holy services and whilst on the Ward nursing..

Wrote a file of their own failings and say it is ME!!!!!!!!!!

because I don't smoke or drink and live a healthy life style, Meyer had put on alsorts of remote torture EVERY NIGHT OF MY LIFE SINCE

it will weaken her and she will think she dreamt it- agonising and excruciating-

used for water heads in mental homes who have sluggish systems -- hyping heart, pressing it (closed half of ducts with this) pressing all organs, especially recently eye retinas and corneas.. for months, so I should never paint again-- or teach. Dredger on brain night after night, destroys brain cells- pressing down with laser on skull

pressing down on arteries, that is Dr Myers speciality on arms, so later they harden. op Megan, presses left artery of heart (whilst in Spain- they paid half million to Spain to continue there.. june 2012- oct 2013..intended to run away there as had many Students living with me and taught for Chesterfield School back then, did not think Spanish were so weak towards corruption)

Endless Lewdity over tv and music--pakistani operatives disgusting, I am 68 years old, never done anything like that- they are filthy. and know it is a put on. watch me in bath and undressing- I would not allow a male nurse never mind strange men watching me and insulting me like that---yet I teach their children! years ago I wrote to BBC and ITV but received no answer-

I know 'ology lady used my PE lesson during BE'd from Nether thorpe School, I heard it, identical// the lab sponsored tv writers to write up my stuff - so that no one could get at them--

Martin, failed exams, given all my work, advertising now millionaire

then Philip-- I see my work on vans etc..

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

HEALTH DESTROYED<,

you have about 7 years of life left, as we have left your organs too weak to live much longer than that- besides the Radium B etc...  from pressure of laser, your heart and lungs are very weak, can’t walk up slightest incline without panting. Laser presses the squashy material in your lungs, diminishes lung space- Half your ducts in your heart have been closed. Wewanted to use you for sexual experiments remote, not have you studying and paintings-

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

 22.5.13-5 to 12/ over TV-- We put £100 on to your gas meter--- St Barths Human Research (over phone: your choice the jews said- YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE SIGNED SOMETHING-- I signed a nurses form in April 1991 at West Ham Community Health London- shouted at by Nurse Hughes to do so."this will help you" no copy given, could not read it as straight from Shift at Newham Hospital.. went next day for copy..Nurse Hughes yells : It has gone higher, sapeena me, sapeena me...(at that time I had no idea what sapeena meant- three London solicitors have tried to find this form, without success... I think they refer to this. Thirea London, found a form I signed on the day I was sitting at a desk at the UEL in a German lesson, saying St Barths could open all my files..in the event, I did not bother much, as there is nothing in my files, I have never done anything or had anything which is of concern.)

since beginning, SEE HOW YOU CAN CHEAT THEM--- I have tried to be patient- and just use as little as I can of anything--

lots more such instances over the years

woolwich £50 Arthur took that out

richard german Human Research took out £2000

Werner German Human Research tied my computer to lab computer

Berlin Human Research FELIX took out fifty percent of my hair whilst I was teaching at Ocean Uni Qingdao ..

electricity bill twice £70 I went to Germany - Lynne

gas bill (I was in Hungary)- we gave an english family your tiny bill you got their bill with central heating £80

THE LAB ACCOUNTS LEADER PUT ON

lab owes you about £7000

without the HYPO bank thefts...which were £11,000

Dr Myer had purse stolen at Christmas, so boys and I penniless over Christmas Months benefits-

- had purse stolen, Upton Park underground, £400

Intellectual

Art college failed by Dr Myer Edgeware Rd London WE DOWN MARKED YOU CONSTANTLY SO WE HAD ALL YOUR NEIGHBOURS ROB YOUR UNIVERSITY WORK--

overuse of lecturers, one shot himself, one died of pressing lungs, one given breakdown as many, many others

BE'd - Head you are not mixing with adults! Myer, give lowest mark possible-

UEL-- endless intervention filth, lewdities- give lowest mark possible (Wayne- give her the border line= 20% taken off because she already speaks German)

Creative writing degree Sheffield Uni- mark as low as possible –

 I WANT ALL MY QUOTES , money and all my work RETURNING- -------------ALL-----------

[occasionally-good-authoring]

Ichor, Chapter Two- Another Great Decision

yes i changed the main characters name from lucas to kit, it sounds better

@xanadaus

Bed rest sucks, but sadly that’s what I was mandated for a week. Apparently I bruised a rib, which makes a lot of sense. And had close to a hundred stitches in total, and I learned a long time ago those bad boys hurt when they pop. 

    It didn’t stop me most of the time, but at least I knew it would hurt, am I right or am I right?

    But I did end up with cool scars so at least I got something good out of it. And friends. That too. Mariana made several appearances in the infirmary, often with her brother Luis. Will, for being the medic, didn’t show up nearly as much. 

    Niamh was there a lot too, but that’s a given. Shi kinda has to be, signed a contract and everything.

    “I feel like I definitely don’t have to be laying in a bed for a week,” I said when Will came into the room to check on the stitches and change my bandages.

    “I feel like you have 32 stitches in your shoulders alone and completely wrecked the muscles in your left and have 59 stitches in your back,” she said. I grumbled something about it not being that bad. Will…he, he did no, he said

    “It’s only a week, if you follow my instructions you should be back to normal in about a month.”

    “That’s way too long.”

    “No, it’s really not.”

    “It is.”

    “You broke two ribs, I'm being generous here.”

    “Oh. Really? I think this is some kind of record on my part,” (it wasn’t). Honestly, I think I was feeling a bit proud of myself at this point. I’d never had a fight so bad before, and I won it anyway. 

    “Maybe I’ll get you a trophy,” Will laughed. “But you have to stay on bed rest for the week and follow my instructions for the month.”

    “Deal.” 

After the week was over, I received Will’s instructions, which summed up to take it easy and for the love of god do not exercise or train. Which was hilarious coming from her because when they weren’t checking in on my healing, they were training. 

    He probably would’ve taken the instructions even worse than me, honestly. I mean, they were the embodiment of what people meant when they say doctors are the worst patients. From what I can scrounge up from the depths of my not at all deep memories is that the girl was even more into training than I was. And I have all these scars for a reason. 

    I guess so do they. 

“This is the most boring thing ever,” I said one night at dinner. Will rolled his eyes, and Mariana snorted.

    “It is,” Luis agreed. Luis quickly became my favorite person at the table that night. “One time I was on bed rest for two weeks and by the end I was ready to spend three days training and training only.”

    “And then you proceeded to end up in the infirmary again the same day you got off bed rest,” Will said with a sigh. I could tell this was an old argument. “You were lucky Jamie found you before you could do even more damage.”

    “Jamie’s a traitor.”

    “Wait, who’s Jamie?” Niamh asked. 

    “Will’s mysterious brother,” Mariana said with a smirk. I looked at her for more answers, and she was happy to fill me in. “The guy stays in his room all day, and only comes out for food and at night to train alone.”

    “He’s not mysterious, he’s just had a wack sleep schedule since forever,” Will said quickly. I could see Will getting uncomfortable, so I decided to go with the age old topic change, making fun of Niamh. Friendily of course. That. That’s not a word is it. Whatever, probably just my memory (I say with a dictionary open next to me).

    “So Niamh?”

    “I will smack you, I just like to stay up late.” 

    “I think 2 am qualifies as early, babe.”

    “Nah, it’s gotta be past 4 am to be early,” Mariana said. 

    “Nobody gets up at four, the line is at five, moron,” Luis said. 

    “Who gets up at five? That sounds like some kind of torture,” I laughed. Luis and Mariana pointed at Will. I don’t think I was surprised. 

    “The gym is empty then.” Will shrugs. 

    “That is the worst reason for getting up early I have ever heard,” Niamh deadpanned. I couldn’t help but laugh. I wasn’t the only one bad at holding in laughter, because Will was snickering while covering their mouth. Mariana was outright laughing like me, while Luis just smiled. 

    “Busy gyms are annoying,” Will said between giggles. Mariana, she, she said something. I know she said something. Just…just give me a second.

I got it. 

    “There’s literally six people living here, what are you on dude,” Mariana said. 

    “Two people is busy in a group of six!” I probably shouldn’t have said what I was about to, but when has that stopped me.

    “It certainly can be.” 

Niamh laughed first, and hard. I was drowning in embarrassment while Mariana and Luis lost their shit. Will face was buried in her hands and I couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying. 

    “Oh my god KitKit,” Niamh practically shouted. At this point I had started laughing too. I kept my eyes on Will, who had looked up and was red faced and obviously laughing their ass off. 

    Will’s laugh was bright, and something I wanted to listen to just as much as her voice. I made myself look away when I saw Niamh looking at me with a smirk. I didn’t know what that was about, but I wasn’t giving hir anything, contrived or not.  

    Shi’s been trying to get back at me for Molly Ginje since we were twelve. Not a pretty scene. In my defense, shi did keep me in the dark. 

What am I kidding? That's a bad defense, that was entirely my fault.

“I’m going to head up before I have to hear another sentence like that tonight,” Luis said. He picked up his plate and threw it in the trash before leaving.

“Night loser!” Mariana yelled. I could feel the middle finger in his voice when he yelled a shut up back. Mariana snickered. I couldn’t help but laugh along with her. 

I’m not gonna lie to you, what I did next was a horrible idea. So, all in all, a normal decision from me. I was restless and the infirmary gets horror movie opening levels of creepy at night. And if you can’t fall asleep? Have fun wondering if the shape in the widow is a coat or a Praeteritus.

The bandage on my shoulder hadn’t been changed in a while—we both forgot after Luis beat us all in charades (he definitely cheated, even if I don’t know how)—and it had started to itch. 

Which, just in case you didn’t know, is one of the worst things in any world. 

So I took off the bandage before throwing on a loose t-shirt—I think it was Will’s—over my sports bra, ignoring the way it caught on the stiches.

It took me a few minutes to gain the confidence to channel my inner Max Rivera and tell myself nothing was going to grab my ankles when I set my feet on the ground (you’re a liar if you don’t at least think about it). I didn’t know where I was going really, but I walked around the church anyway, pretending I wasn’t scared by my own footsteps. 

Then I found the gym, cold, empty, and absolutely perfect for not getting caught in it. By then, my shoulder had started to hurt. I should've taken that as a sign to turn back to the infirmary, take some of the melatonin Will left me, and go to sleep.

Instead I hit my shoulder—which now I know was a bad idea but was my go to method of pain relief then (even if it didn’t work)—and headed for the bows and arrows, hit my shoulder again, and picked up a bow and quiver full of arrows. There weren’t any targets out, but there were extra punching bags which could work.

I backed up twenty feet from an extra dusty bag, got into what I thought was the right form. What I did remember was you pull back the bowstring with your dominant hand. I knew I was screwed but I got this far and didn’t see a good reason to stop.

Other than, you know, setting back my recovery another week, maybe getting put back on bed rest because Will got mad at me. She probably wouldn’t, but I wasn’t going to put it behind them. 

Instead of thinking it through, I pulled back on the bowstring and instantly regretted it because damn did that hurt. The arrow flew into the wall, all sense of aim went out the window when I probably tore the muscles in my left shoulder again. I dropped the bow and staggered back, holding my shoulder.

I don’t know how long I spent just laying on the floor, but I remember what happened. 

I heard footsteps and got up as quickly as I could. The chances of it being Will were high, and bedrest wasn’t on my list of things I wanted to do again. The person walking towards me seemed like Will at first, and I remember thinking 

This girl really gave himself an undercut at 3 am?

As you can see, pristine thought process, as usual. But whoever it was, he was taller than Will, and skinnier, like he’d never been in the gym a day in his life. 

Honestly? I was jealous. He didn’t have scars.

“Don’t tell Will,” I said quickly. He laughed and said something along the lines of

“Not needed.” His voice was raspy, like he’d never talked before. He gestured to my shoulder, which had started to bleed through my shirt—oh so that’s what that stain is. “Show me.”

It took me longer than I’d like to admit to understand what he meant, but quickly found out that was going to be harder than it seemed.

“Um, I can barely move my arm,” I said sheepishly. He nodded and pulled a small knife from his pocket, sat in front of me, and made a clean cut in my shirt right over where one of the stiches had popped open. He nodded again, more to himself this time.

“Be right back.” He stood up and walked out of the gym. By now—this is hilarious actually—the gym was creepier than the infirmary ever was. Just, yeah. Karma, I guess. The gods saw my pride and stuck me down like Icarus getting bitch slapped into the ocean by Helios or Apollo. 

Not going to lie, I kind of deserved it but that’s beside the point. Greek heroes always kind of deserved what they got in the end, didn’t they? 

Anyway, he comes back in with a small first aid kit, you know the ones they always leave on side tables because nobody in these churches ever knows how to stay out of trouble. 

I just described myself, didn’t I?

He sat at my side and rifled through the container. He frowned (which is a bad sign when someones medically treating you).

“What is it?” I asked slowly. A popped stitch couldn't be that bad, could it?

“No stitching supplies. There’s glue.” He showed me the container, which in fact didn’t have any suture needles or thread. “I’m getting Will.” He stood up.

“No! Can’t you just run to the infirmary?”

“Ran out on you, still need more. Will.”

“No please don’t they’ll put me on bedrest again please.” He shifted his weight uneasily. “Glue can work! My siblings used it on me during training so we didn’t have to tell our brother! And plus, if we’re out of stitches, what’s Will going to do?”

“Better,” he said with a nod. I stared at him, copying Delia’s best kicked puppy look. It wasn’t hard because my shoulder hurt. He sighed, plopped down next to me, and grabbed the super glue from the first aid kit.

Now, if you didn’t know, super glue feels real weird, and the best way found to distract myself was talk.

“So, what’s your name? Mine’s Kit.” He nodded.

“Jamie.”

What I said next probably wasn’t the best decision, but also it’s me

“Oh! Will’s mysterious brother! Nice to meet you. Know what, I should’ve guessed it was you because you’re the only person who lives here I haven’t met—ohmygod that feels so weird.”

“Glue is weird. Sorry.”

“No I knew, just felt like saying it again because, it feels weird.” Jamie nodded with a small laugh. It was so raspy I almost thought it was a cough, but he smiled and I figured a cough like that would hurt.  

“It does. I used it once. Will wasn’t there. I cut my leg, pretty deep.” He capped the glue and put it back in the first aid kit. He closed it.

“How do you even do that?”

“Dog training. I’m no good at it.” 

“Nobody is really. Except for my sibling Delia, they could kill it within thirty seconds. I think they’re going to win the lottery, you know what I mean? The big six.” He nods, and this time his laugh sounds less like a cough. 

“Will thinks I’ll do it. Not long till he finds out.” Jamie’s face falls.

“Me too, dude. Dog training doesn’t mean how good you are. I bet you're great at freeze practice.” He lightens up, a proud look on his face. There was something mixed in there, though. I couldn’t tell exactly what but it was sour, like memories you used to love but can’t anymore.

“Lasted two hours in the coldest room.” 

“That’s great man!” I yawned then jumped right back into my words. “The longest anyone back in Columbus got in negatives was thirty minutes< and even that was pushing it.” His smile wavered for a second and when it came back it was weaker. I figured we were both just tired and stood up using my good arm, and held it out to help Jamie up.

He took it.

“I think it’s time I head to sleep, if Will’s down there early and I’m not asleep, bedrest is looking pretty big for my future.” Jamie nodded. 

“Goodnight.” He smiled.

“Night.” I smiled back then headed out, not noticing—or maybe just not caring—about the clocks that read four am.

I laid down on my bed in the infirmary with a heavy sigh, ready to finally go to sleep and avoid getting put back on bedrest. 

“You know, I thought you’d last longer than two days.” Yeah, I was officially screwed. Probably deserved it just a little bit. They gave me one instruction, and I didn’t follow it. 

“I think it counts as three days now, so technically you were right.” Will laughed. She turned on a lamp next to the chair he was sitting in. “Sit down, I’ve got to put the bandages back on.” They gestured to the old bandages that were on the floor.

It was hard to think with him so close to me that I could count his freckles, so light that I could barely see them from any farther away. I could see the smile on her lips, so small it was barely there. I was glad my breaths came normally, because he was close enough to hear it catch if it did. Everytime their fingers brushed my skin, my heart seemed to beat a little faster.

I’m certain my ears were red and I have never been happier they’re always hidden in my hair.

“So, you’re not mad?”

“A bit, but I also know that bedrest sucks and you got restless. You’re healed enough to not do too much damage.” He finished with the bandages, and her smile grew large enough for me to see it when she stood up and walked to put the roll up. They walked back to me and gently pushed me down onto the bed.

“Get some rest, find me when you get up and I’ll see if you need the bandages changed again.” They pulled the blankets up to my chest then headed for the door, turning the lamp off.

“Goodnight, Kit.” Their voice was soft and I could hear the smile in it.

“Goodnight.”

He was out the door by the time I said it.

My shoulder was sore when I woke up, a dull pain sitting warm. It got worse when I tried to stretch without really remembering that my shoulder got messed up again last night.

    My mouth was like sandpaper and god was my stomach empty. 

    All in all, bad way to wake up and not to mention my back hurt because I’ve apparently always had the back of a seventy year old grandmother who refuses to take hys arthritis medication. 

    I threw my feet over the edge and made the not so long trek to the kitchen. My feet were only barely working and my brain was running on lizard mode. 

    Which, might I add, is not the worst mode to be in early in the morning. It gets you water and food. So, pretty good.

    I opened the fridge, and to my dismay it was empty. Well, not empty, but instead of food it was ingredients and nobody wants to make food when they just woke up. Or at least normal people (I’m looking at you, Phoebe). 

    I closed the fridge, intending to just grab some water and go back to sleep, hoping when I next woke up there would be food. I noticed a plate on the counter when I turned around. I almost didn’t notice the note on the tin foil.

    had to run out for more suture thread. eat this and for the love of god, stay out of the gym.

    The note wasn’t signed, but I knew who it was. No amount of hair could hide my blush this time.

[dontneedmyheart]

x

[xtodorcki]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CM7CwRZivBM/?igshid=1soaxz00n5171 I CAN GET THE LEVI PART OF THIS REEL OUT OF MY HEAD OH MY GOD. Just imagine the reader being part of Levi's squad, and she's talented but think Levi's condescending towards people, especially to her. The others say she's just imagining it and that the captain is always like that but the reader's always getting into spats with him. "I seriously don't like the position of of being his metaphorical punching bag." he hears her say one day and Levi has enough. As soon as she's free, Levi calls her to his office and they talk. Things escalate in another fight and before she knows it, Levi has her pinned against the wall "Do you like this position?" he says as he kisses her, her neck, her cheeks. As they move towards his desk or bed, he keeps repeating "Do you like this position?" He'll teach her a thing or two, if you catch my drift👀😶. How you end it is up to you! And if you don't want to write it, that's okay!

“Positions,” Levi x Reader

Summary: (bro idk how to summarize this pls.) always bickering with your Captain because you don’t like the way he belittles you and it turns into a bigger argument.

Warnings: Smut!!! towards the end.

Levi x Fem!Reader

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.

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It had been a rough few weeks for the Scouts after finding out about Reiner and Bertholdt and not being able to catch them in time and after coming back from the expedition where the scouts tried to capture them again, leading in many deaths including the Commander, it made things incredibly worse.

It had been two weeks since that incident and everyday since Levi did not take it easy on his cadets and you had felt personally attacked and picked on everyday from him during training or during exercises.

At first it was small, he would tell you to try harder or do a little more. He would claim you were acting lazy, not meeting his standards and that made you catch an attitude with him because you felt like you were doing more than enough.

You were always grateful and appreciative to be under Levi considering how strong and talented he was, you actually learned a lot from him and everyone had known you as “Levi’s Mini” but that didn’t stop him from pushing you harder.

Many times it had led to you bickering with him, which ended up with you cleaning or doing rough work outs around the base to satisfy his needs on teaching you a lesson but you never learned, you continued having arguments with him from left to right.

One day you had been more stressed than usual and Levi picking on you and pushing you during the early morning training session had irritated you way more than it should have and during lunch, you started to rant to your friends at the table.

“Levi is doing this shit on purpose, last week I was cleaning horse shit for days just because I didn’t meet his standards.” You groaned, taking a bite out of your food and they just nodded their heads.

“Well, you did start an argument with him.” Armin said, making you shoot him a glare and he grew quiet as he ate his food.

“I think he just personally hates me, he doesn’t do anything to you guys.” The weight of getting picked out of all the cadets had crushed down on you heavily, almost suffocating you.

“You’re just imagining it, he picks on all of us.” Eren rolled his eyes, bringing up the times Levi has easily beaten him down and kicked him in the face.

“No, I’m not just imagining it.”

It started to grow quiet again, the sounds of chewing and forks hitting the glass plates as all the scouts had eaten their food and after they were done, they stay seated at the table to talk some more before they had to go do what was assigned to them around the base.

Levi was walking down the hallway, about to walk pass the door to the mess hall until he had heard your voice say his name a few times. It caused his curiosity to make him freeze in place and try to listen to the conversation as you rambled and vented about how he was only bullying you out of everyone.

He had rolled his eyes at you throwing a fit over something you had started. You were always the one to talk back to Levi first and start the arguments and he felt the need to put you in your place to know who was superior- it was him.

“I seriously don’t like the position of being his metaphorical punching bag.” You said loud enough that he heard it through the door and it caused his eyebrows to raise in amusement.

“You’re overthinking it, Y/N.” Armin spoke again, making you huff out a breath and continue on about how you weren’t dreaming or overthinking it.

Soon enough the day had went on as it always did. You went around to do was assigned to you including stupid cleaning chores that Levi always insisted that you should do and it only aggravated you more than before.

He had watched you almost all day, making sure you weren’t having another fit but also to wait until you had some time to come to his office and talk to him about your tantrum you threw in the mess hall. Your words had replayed in his mind repeatedly and he was growing impatient.

So Levi had went outside to where you were finishing up, making a dramatic huff leave your lips when you saw him- automatically assuming he was going to rain hell and assign you more pointless things to do.

“I need to speak to you in my office.” He said plainly, making you fully stop and glance over at him before simply nodding your head.

You didn’t want to say anything or start up another argument, you would honestly hate to do so especially when you were in too much heat already from arguing with him the other day so doing it again would only make matters worse.

After you had followed him down to his office and closed the door behind you, his cold stare had burned right through you which made you a bit uneasy inside, afraid what he has plotting inside of his head.

“Honestly, Y/N, I’m getting real sick and tired of your shit.” He wasted no time to say to your face, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“What the hell did I do this time to have you hate me?” The tone in his voice had already struck a nerve, instantly making you angry.

“You stomp in here and act like you run things when you’re nothing but a cadet. You need to watch that filthy mouth of yours before I tell you to pack your shit and leave.” He practically spat in your face, his words were harsh and brutal but nothing you’ve heard from him before.

“You pick on me every single day and torture me while the others get to do what they want. How the fuck is that fair?”

The bickering between you two had gone back and forth for minutes, the two of you shooting daggers at each other through words and it only made things heat up in seconds. Both of you were fed up with each other and it was evident that Levi wanted to kick you down on the floor and remind you who is the Captain and who is the Cadet in the situation.

He never grew so frustrated over a cadet before, he’s taught plenty of people and had plenty under his team but you were something else. He looked at you as some spoiled brat who thinks they can get want they want in a blink of an eye.

He sighed under his breath, bringing up his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and soon stood from his seat. You stood across the office, angry and upset again over something so small and stupid- just because your Captain felt the need to remind you of your position.

But this time Levi had enough of your attitude and your bickering and complaining, it was tiring to hear it every single day over the smallest things and it was clear that cleaning and doing harsh exercises wasn’t going to teach you a lesson you needed to be taught.

He had walked over to where you stood, the both of you the same height so it was easy for him to look straight ahead at you and stare right through you, making you grow uneasy again but on the outside you kept that cold look like he does.

He was quick to shove you against the wall behind you, his hand grabbing a hold of your chin and keeping you in place as a soft unexpected gasp left your lips from the impact. You were a bit stunned for a second, your wide eyes staring into his dark ones and a small smirk had appeared on his face.

“Do you like this position instead?” He mumbled, referring to what you had said earlier in the mess hall and it made you realize he had heard your pointless rant.

He didn’t wait for you to answer his question, instead he smashed his lips on yours. The kiss was rough at first, Levi wanting to show dominance and teach you a lesson or two about talking back and bickering with him constantly.

When you tried to move your hands up to wrap around his neck, his hands were quick to grab yours and pin them against the wall above your head. He wasn’t going to let things slide so easily and let you do what you want in this specific situation, not on his watch.

“Or do you like this position?” His words were muffled against your swollen lips, almost whining in his mouth as he practically devoured you.

He was still pissed off at you, he was mad to the point where he knew after this- you probably wouldn’t be able to do chores or training tomorrow. Eventually he had pulled back from your mouth, licking his own lips and yanking you off the wall while remaining a tight grip on your wrists.

His feet had moved, pulling you with him all the way to his desk and threw stuff off to bend you over it, pressing the side of your face down on the hard wood. He was over taking it easy on you and over trying to reason with your sour attitude everyday. A simple few kicks to the face worked for Eren yet with you, no matter what happens, you always continue to fight with him.

He had looked over at the uniform that you wore, grabbing the waistband of your pants and tugging them down in an instant, letting it pool around your ankles for the time being as he kept one hand holding your wrists behind your back and the other hand hovering over your ass.

“Or do you like this position, brat?” He said quietly, his eyes shooting down and looking at yours as your face began to get flustered.

“Levi,” You had started to say but once his name had slipped out of your mouth, he instantly raised his hand and brought it down on your bare skin, making your body jolt against the desk.

“Try again.”

“Captain.” You barely managed to stutter out, your skin burning from the impact but he was rubbing his hand over it, soothing it over.

You were stunned at what was happening inside of his office right now. Just a moment ago you two were arguing and just an hour ago you two hated each other and you were stuck doing chores because you had talked back to him and now you were bent over his desk.

You weren’t really complaining but it was hard to wrap your head around it when you two have always bickered and fought with one another over the smallest things.

Levi’s sudden actions of pulling you up off the desk and forcing you to face him, his hand grabbing your chin and forced you to connect eyes with him as a small smirk appeared on his face at how red and flustered yours was.

He didn’t even say a word, instead he reached up to undo the tie around his neck and removed it, his eyes never leaving yours and soon enough he was ripping your uniform off your body until you were bare and naked in front of his eyes.

“All that crap you were talking earlier today about how I put you in a position of being my personal punching bag and now...” He trailed off, the snarky attitude in his voice as his hands grabbed yours and tied them behind your back with his tie.

“I’m actually going to put you in a position where you’ll be my punching bag all night long and we’ll see how long you last, hm?” He had tried to not chuckle or laugh but he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to.

You didn’t even bother to say a word to him, you stayed quiet as he tied your wrists together and turned you back around and bent over his desk in front of him. He had hummed to himself at the sight of you, something he had been imagining to himself for quite some time.

Levi had licked his lips again, spreading your legs apart with his leg and looked down at the hand print that was clearly visible on your skin from a moment ago and it had made him raise his hand to lay down another smack to your already sensitive skin. You had jolted forward again, a yelp slipping out.

He groaned under his breath, trying to hold himself back from taking you the way he wanted to right now. He wanted to take his time with you and teach you a lesson with the smart attitude you always have but the way you looked, you being completely submissive and weak before him, it made him grow weak himself.

He yanked your body up by the tie around your wrists and tugged you towards his bedroom that was connected to his office, kicking the door shut behind him and pushing you down on the bed on your back. He had adjusted the tie to move your arms above your head and tied to the headboard.

“How about this? Do you like this position?” He mumbled, his lips trailing sloppy kisses from your jawline down to your neck.

His movements had made you squirm beneath his body and soft breaths had left your lips, feeling yourself grow more impatient every minute that passes but Levi didn’t mind taking all night to prove his point to you, everything goes his way.

His fingers had brushed along your bare skin, dragging all the way down to your thigh before he firmly grabbed onto it and squeezed it all while his teeth were biting your neck, leaving multiple bite marks and bruises on your soft skin.

It was slowly starting to get unbearable to handle, the more time passed, the more impatient you got and tried to move your body as close to his as possible even if your wrists were tied up. He noticed your desperate attempts for more of his touch and it had made his big ego grow more, knowing what he was doing to you was going the way he wanted it to.

“Whats wrong? You want more, brat?” He taunted you, teasing you with a big smirk on his lips and you groaned under your breath, your eyes moving away from his but he was quick to grab your chin and force you to look up at him.

“Tell me, do you deserve to be touched after everything you’ve done the last few weeks? Do you deserve to be fucked like a good girl?” His voice was low and quiet but it was clear enough to hear every word he had said.

Slowly, you begin to nod your head, trying to move your hands but realizing they were still tied together and that only frustrated you more but he was set on making you learn and set on torturing you for testing his patience everyday.

“I’ll do anything.” You mumbled, making his eyebrows raise in amusement and curiosity at the same time.

“Anything? Like what, hm?” He was intrigued to hear any offers you had plotted inside your head but honestly, you had none- you just wanted the teasing to be over with.

It grew quiet again, you didn’t know what to say next and he had caught on to what you were trying to do. His hand had let go of your chin, trailing back down your naked body until he had decided to dip his hand between your legs and get a feel for himself, wanting to see just how bad you wanted it, just how far you can go.

It wasn’t long till his rough fingers were rubbing soft circles on your clit, his eyes burning into yours while his tongue had brushed over his dry lips. He could feel just how desperate you were and how badly you wanted to be touched down there, it fueled something inside of him to take it further but he wanted to test your limits.

You had roughly tugged at the tie that was around yours wrists, the headboard creaking in the process and he started to chuckle under his breath, pressing his fingers against you more firmly, making sure you felt every little touch. You had tried to pry your legs shut, that only made Levi push them back open as he settled between them.

“I want to hear you beg or else I could do this all night, pleasuring you to the brink of cumming and pulling away till you’re in tears.” You couldn’t believe just how casual and soft his voice was, the amused look on his face had turned into a more serious one.

A lump had started to form in your throat, stunned and not knowing what to really say. You were so far into your own thoughts that you didn’t realize he had gotten down to bury his face between your legs, his tongue licking a stripe up through your folds, making a sudden moan slip out of your mouth and his eyes had moved to look into yours when you met his gaze.

“I’m waiting or do you want me to stop?” He tilted his head, sinking his teeth into your thigh gently, making you buck your hips up out of impulse.

The stubbornness you had was glued to the front of your brain, you hated to give him exactly what he wanted- it’ll only feed onto his superior ego more but the way he was working you and the way you were practically desperate for any sort of touch from him, you knew you had to do it his way to get your way. A soft huff escaped your lips, tilting your head down to stare into his lustful eyes.

“Please, Captain.” You started to speak, watching his eyebrows raise and the amusement plastered on his face as he squeezed onto your thighs, waiting for you to continue.

“I’ll do anything just for you to fuck me. Please stop teasing.” The sudden whine that slipped out of your parted lips had made him almost throb, his skin growing hot and his fingertips digging into your skin.

“Hm, I guess you’ve been through enough teasing huh brat?” He slowly started to trail kisses back up your body until he was fully hovered over you again, his free hand caressing your cheek.

“But let’s not forget I’m here to teach you a lesson on talking back to me.”

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I made this long enough so I’m splitting this into 2 parts. Here’s the first one. Sorry for being so absent and distant. Everything had gone to hell after losing my childhood dog and school is almost over so finals and all this crazy shit but I’m trying.

I love and miss y’all <3

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