#annie belle bites back

[jesterbunnys]

annie belle bites back will be the first comic to feature romance between a ghost and a mermaid. probably.

[blackpantherismyish]

Slow Burn, Sharp Blade 🍃

Modern!au Elijah “Smoke” Moore X Black!OC Joya Sable

Word Count : 4K

Authors Note : 👀 Hey y’all. While I love my Smoke and Annie, I wanted to bring in this OC to give it a lil twist. If you like this enough, I’ll definitely drop a part two. Yall just have to let me know. And fun fact, that picture of the sky was taken by yours truly ☺️🙂‍↕️ I have a whole gallery full of them so you may see some more in the future. There’s some teasing in here so I wouldn’t say it’s quite smut but it definitely ain’t vanilla either. So enjoy! 😉

The bell above the east Oakland barbershop door jingles like it’s in on the city’s secrets—like it knows something’s about to go down.

Smoke steps inside slow, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light of the barbershop. It smells like clove oil, fresh fade spray, and something sweet—a woman’s perfume laced with warning. Stack told him this was the spot. Said “Trust me, bruh, she got hands like magic. And she don’t scare easy.”

Didn’t mention she was fine as hell too.

She’s behind the second chair, finishing a fade on a boy too young to sit still but smart enough not to move when her fingers lock his chin. Short and thick, her shape’s impossible to miss. Denim hugging hips like they owe her something. Her locs are gathered up, edges slick, gold hoops dancing when she tilts her head and a two toned Cuban that didn’t miss it’s opportunity to shimmer as she moved. There’s a dragon tattoo wrapped around her forearm, and a nameplate necklace that reads: Joya.

“Take a seat. I’ll get to you in ten,” she calls, not looking up.

That voice? Sweet heat with a bite on the end.

Smoke chooses the waiting bench near the back, watching through lowered lids. Stack didn’t just set him up with a sharp cut. He knew damn well she’d spark something. That fire. That attitude. That don’t-fuck-with-me drawl every time she tells the kid to quit twitchin’.

When she finally turns his way, it’s like she feels him watching. Eyes drag over him, from the twist in his short Afro to the scar along his collarbone. Her smirk’s small, but it’s there. Confident.

“You Smoke, right?” she asks, snapping her cape loose and shaking it once before motioning him over. “Stack said you needed someone with a steady hand. That true, or you just tryna get up under my chair and flex?”

He chuckles low, something in his chest waking up.

“I don’t need to flex. You see me.”

She narrows her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You talk smooth, but can you sit still?”

“I can sit still real well,” he says, settling into the chair. “Especially when the view this good.”

That earns him a soft snort. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a dismissal. She steps in close, tugging the cape around his shoulders with quick fingers, then starts examining his fro and the line of his fade.

“Mmhm,” she hums, mostly to herself. “You got nice hair. Thick. Clean. I’ll keep your part, tighten your taper, touch your beard. But if you flinch, I’m nickin’ you. An’ I don’t wanna hear no lip either.”

Smoke lets his eyes close, voice warm. “Bet.”

But when her fingers start in—when the clippers buzz low and her hands guide his head like she owns every angle of him—his breath gets slow. Her touch is firm. Sure. She smells like peach sugar and something spiced, like she might knock a man out and kiss him after.

“You always this quiet when a woman got blades near your neck?” she teases, close enough for her voice to brush his ear.

“Only when I’m thinkin’ dangerous thoughts.”

Joya pauses, her wrist resting just above his jaw. “You better focus on that lineup, baby. Not that fast tongue of yours.”

Smoke smiles slow. He likes the way she holds a blade—like it’s a promise.

He might’ve come for the cut, but he’s stayin’ for the fire.

The clippers hum against his skin, but it’s her voice that makes his pulse skip.

“You got a lot of heat sittin’ in this chair,” she says, brushing hair off his temple with the back of her hand. “You always run this warm, or you sweatin’ ‘cause I’m touchin’ you an’ you get nervous around pretty ladies?”

Smoke doesn’t even open his eyes.

“I don’t sweat easy. But you? You got hands like you used to fight in a past life.”

Joya chuckles low, the sound syrupy with mischief. “Maybe I did. Or maybe I just learned to handle men who talk slick.”

“Is that right?”

She taps the top of his head twice. “Chin up.”

He obeys, letting her angle him where she wants. Her nails graze his jaw as she guides it, not gentle—but not careless either. Like she’s letting him know this chair is hers, and so is the moment.

“You from around here?” he asks, voice still soft, curious.

“Born and raised. Mama ran a salon, Daddy ran a garage. I cut hair in the morning and fix old schools on Sundays. What about you? You from here or just passin’ through lookin’ for your next conquest?”

He opens his eyes now, catches her reflection in the mirror. “What makes you think I’m lookin’ for one?”

Joya meets his gaze without flinching. “’Cause men like you don’t come into shops like mine unless they got a reason.”

“Maybe I came ‘cause Stack said you were the best.”

“Stack don’t hand out compliments unless he’s tryna set somebody up.”

Smoke tilts his head, grin creeping in. “Maybe he was.”

Joya cocks her brow, lips parting just a little, like she’s trying not to smile but it’s slipping anyway. She moves to the other side of the chair, close enough now that her hip brushes his arm. On purpose.

“You flirt with all your barbers like this?”

“Only the ones with gold hoops and a dragon on their arm.”

She scoffs, but her smirk’s telling. “You think I’m impressed ‘cause you noticed my tattoo?”

“No,” Smoke says, voice lower now. “I think you’re curious why a man like me got quiet the minute you touched me.”

That gives her pause. Just a second.

Then—click. She switches to the trimmer and leans in so close her breath fans his cheek. “Don’t get too comfortable. I still might nick you for runnin’ that mouth.”

“I’d bleed for you,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper.

Joya stills, lips inches from his ear.

Then she pulls back and flicks the trimmer off with a snap.

“Line’s clean. Beard’s tight. You can look now.”

Smoke opens his eyes slow. His reflection stares back—fresh cut, sharper jaw, eyes darker than when he walked in.

Joya removes the cape with a flourish, brushing stray hairs from his shoulders. “That’ll be forty.”

He stands, towering over her, but not looming. Just there. Present. The air between them feels different now—warmer, charged.

He pulls a crisp Benjamin from his pocket and presses it into her palm, letting his fingers drag slow across her skin.

“Keep the change.”

She tucks it into her waistband without breaking eye contact. “Next time you want a touch-up, book ahead.” She motioned her head to the stack of business cards at her station.

“I don’t just take walk-ins.”

Smoke leans down just enough to brush his lips near her ear, voice wrapped in velvet heat.

“I wasn’t walkin’ in, babygirl. I was bein’ sent.”

And with that, he’s gone, the door jingling behind him, leaving Joya standing there with clippers in one hand and a grin she doesn’t bother hiding.

——

The bass inside Velvet Ridge rolls like slow thunder through the floorboards.

It’s a Thursday night, mellow crowd but not dead—just the way Joya likes it. She walks in solo, locs out and wild this time, hugging her waist with a ribbed crop top and black jeans. No clippers tonight. Just gold hoops, lip gloss, and attitude.

She’s halfway through her first drink at the bar when Reese, her longtime friend and part-time bartender, slides over with a lazy grin.

“Well damn. You clean up all right.”

Joya smirks. “Better watch your mouth before I bring the clippers up here and leave you with a crooked line on purpose.”

Reese laughs, wiping a glass. “You only get that spicy when you got an itch.”

“I’m here for music, not men,” she says, sipping slow.

Reese lifts a brow, looking past her shoulder. “Then why you got a fresh whiskey ginger coming your way from tall, dark, and locked-in over by the pool table?”

Joya turns her head.

Smoke.

Leaning against the wall like he’s part of it, pool cue in one hand, untouched drink in the other. Same dark tee, same watch and pinky ring glinting under low light. His eyes are already on her, steady and unbothered, like he expected her to walk in eventually.

Because maybe he did.

Joya huffs through her nose and turns back to the bar, trying to play it cool.

“Stack really out here runnin’ matchmaking services now?” she mutters.

Reese whistles low, nudging the drink toward her. “If that’s Stack’s doing, tell him I owe him dinner. That man is fine and lookin’ at you like he’s picturin’ your ass back in that chair—except this time he the one doin’ the sittin’.”

Joya chokes on her sip. “Reese.”

“I’m just sayin’!”

She glances over her shoulder again. Smoke lifts his glass in a silent toast—no wink, no smile. Just that same quiet heat he carried in the shop. And now it’s pulsing between them again, thicker in the dark.

Reese leans in close, grinning. “Go talk to him before I do.”

Joya rolls her eyes, snatches the drink, and slides off the stool. “Keep the seat warm.”

“I’ll keep it icy in case he melts your ass.”

Joya’s already walking, drink in hand, hips swaying like she means it. Smoke watches every step. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, just waits.

When she’s close enough, she takes a long sip and licks her bottom lip. “Sending drinks now? You tryna impress me?”

“No,” Smoke says, voice deep and lazy. “Just thanking you for the cut. And the view.”

She bites back a smile. “Mmhm. You like women who talk back, don’t you?”

“I like women who talk real.”

“Then you better listen close.” She steps into his space, lifting her chin. “If you came here lookin’ for some easy thing, you barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

Smoke leans in just enough for her to feel the heat off his chest. “Nah, I came here hopin’ you’d bark back.”

And just like that, the air around them turns thick again. Charged. Everything unspoken stretching taut between two people who don’t scare easy.

Joya sips again, slow. Then:

“You shoot pool, or just posted up lookin’ pretty?”

Smoke breaks into the smallest smirk. “Rack ‘em.”

Smoke breaks first.

The crack echoes like a warning across the table. Stripes scatter, solids hold tight. He doesn’t say a word—just leans back, pool cue balanced lightly in his hand like it belongs there.

Joya circles the table, eyes on the felt. “Solid,” she declares, tapping the cue ball with the tip of her stick. “Of course. Strong foundation. Like me.”

Smoke watches her the way a wolf watches movement in tall grass—quietly hungry.

She sinks the two ball, easy. Then the five. Walks around him with just enough sway to make sure he notices. She lines up for the four, but the angle’s off, so she stretches forward, hips lifting just slightly, and—

Smoke clears his throat.

Joya grins without looking at him. Got him.

She misses the next shot on purpose.

He steps up, slow. “That move was cheap.”

“You didn’t call no rules,” she says, sauntering over to lean on her stick. “What’s the stakes?”

Smoke circles the table, casual but coiled. “Winner calls it.”

“Oh, you bold,” she says. “What if I ask for something reckless?”

“I’m countin’ on it.”

He sinks three in a row—smooth, patient, no showboating. Just precision and pressure.

When he misses the corner pocket on the eleven, Joya claps her hands once. “And just like that, the throne’s mine again.”

Smoke leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Make your shot, Queen.”

She drops the eight-ball like it owed her something. Stands tall. Sips what’s left of the drink he sent. Then sets the glass down like a statement.

“You owe me now.”

Smoke nods, low and slow. “Say the word.”

Joya steps in close—real close. Her voice drops an octave, sultry and bold. “Winner gets…a nightcap. Your place. But you don’t touch me ‘til I say.”

Smoke’s jaw tightens, something carnal flickering in his eyes.

“That what you want?” he asks, low.

She tilts her head. “That’s what I earned. You got a problem with that?”

He steps into her space, chest brushing her shoulder, his voice like smoke curling up her neck. “I don’t got problems, baby. Just patience.”

Her lip curls into a slow smile.

“Then lead the way.”

Joya’s car hums down the freeway, windows cracked just enough to let the warm California night wrap around her like a silk scarf. Her locs are still coiled from earlier, makeup still fresh, but her pulse? That’s not nearly as calm as the playlist floating through her speakers.

She drums her fingers on the wheel, glancing at the glowing street signs passing by like checkpoints on a map she didn’t plan to follow.

“What the hell am I doing?” she mutters, half-laughing. “Talkin’ slick and now I’m halfway to his place like I don’t got sense.”

She taps her screen, pulls up her group chat.

✨Edge Snatchers Inc✨

Joya, Tish, Kenya, Bri

She hits the voice message button.

Joya:

“Y’all. So. Y’know how Stack’s been pushin’ that one client on me? Smoke? His brother …Yeah, that Smoke—the soft spoken half of SmokeStack twins? Big, broody, quiet, tattooed up like a sin with a story? Anyway… he came through today. Sat in my chair, flirted like he got time to waste, and had the nerve to act unbothered while I was fightin’ for breath. That man don’t talk much, but when he do, it’s low and dangerous like the bassline in a baby-makin’ song.”

Her phone lights up—Tish is typing. Then another voice message comes in:

Tish:

“I told you he had that quiet fine. That ‘write his name on the lease’ fine. You got him in your chair and didn’t melt? Bitch. You stronger than me.”

Kenya:

“Wait, y’all always joked about ‘what if SmokeStack sat in your shop’ and now it’s real?! Tell me you gave him that Joya fade where you put love in the line-up?”

Joya snorts, already recording her reply.

Joya:

“Girl, I gave him the fade and the fire. He sat still like he knew I was sculptin’ royalty. Then tonight—child—ran into him at Velvet Ridge. Sent me a drink like he owned the bar. Didn’t even wink. Just looked.”

The typing bubbles go wild.

Bri:

“So now what? You goin’ home or…?”

Joya exhales through her nose and smiles to herself, tapping the next voice message.

Joya:

“Heading to his place. But I set the rules. I said don’t touch me till I say. And he said ‘I got patience.’ Y’all. He said it like he meant it. I don’t know what this is yet, but I know one thing: that man? He ain’t regular.”

Her phone pings again—heart emojis, devil faces, Kenya yelling “Fumble him and I will ghost you for eternity!”—and it makes her laugh out loud.

But as she turns off the highway and the city lights fade into the quiet of backstreets, something else stirs underneath the teasing. A different kind of hum.

That man sees her. Not just the barber. Not just the smart mouth or the hips or the gold hoops.

He sees the fire. And for once—he’s not trying to tame it. Just… match it.

She parks. Kills the engine. Grabs her lip gloss and dabs it once. Quick breath. One more voice note:

Joya:

“If I’m not at the shop by ten tomorrow… tell Stack when he come in for his line up that it was worth it.”

She slides her phone into her purse and steps out into the night, her heels clicking on the concrete like punctuation to a decision already made.

Smoke’s apartment is nothing like she expected.

No smoke and mirrors. No overdone flex.

Just clean lines. Dark leather. Low lighting. An open bottle of bourbon on the kitchen counter, two glasses, untouched. The scent of something woodsy lingers in the air like it belongs to the bones of the place.

He opens the door, steps aside, and lets her in without a word. Doesn’t crowd her. Doesn’t rush.

Joya walks in like she owns the space anyway. Slow. Confident. A queen inspecting her new throne. She doesn’t speak yet—just shrugs off her jacket, drapes it over a dining chair, and gives him a glance over her shoulder.

“You live like a man who don’t bring company home.”

Smoke closes the door behind her, leans on it for a beat. “I don’t.”

Her brow lifts just a little. “Then I’m your first?”

He nods once. “In more ways than you know.”

She doesn’t ask what he means. Not yet.

Instead, she walks to the center of the living room and turns to face him, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. “Get comfortable. I said this was a nightcap, not a sprint.”

Smoke kicks off his shoes and walks toward her, slow and measured, like he’s syncing with her rhythm on purpose. He stops just shy of touching her.

“You want music?” he asks.

“Mmhm. Something low. Grown.”

He moves to the speaker on the shelf. The playlist starts with a bass-heavy, velvet-laced groove—Snoh Aalegra, maybe. D’Angelo bleeding into the next. Joya doesn’t say a word. Just smiles.

She sinks onto his couch, crossing her legs slow, drink in hand now, which he’d poured without asking—two fingers neat. She raises it in mock toast.

“To men who sit still when told.”

Smoke chuckles low, sits across from her on the other end of the sectional. Legs open. Elbows on knees. That same quiet confidence wrapped around him like armor.

“You keep testin’ my patience,” he says, sipping.

“And you keep passin’.”

Joya watches him over the rim of her glass, letting the silence bloom between them. Letting her presence fill the room. This is what she does best—hold the line.

She’s been around men who try to lead too fast. Who rush into her space like it’s owed. But this man? This man sits in the tension, meets her energy, rises with it.

When she finally leans forward, her voice is smooth and sweet, but there’s iron under the honey. “You really let women call the shots like this?”

Smoke meets her gaze, slow. “Not always. Just the ones who know what to do with the power.”

That earns him her full smile. No games now—just heat and curiosity.

“So what would you do,” she asks, “if I said you can touch me now?”

Smoke doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe heavy. Just leans in, eyes darker than the bourbon in his glass.

“I’d ask where.”

That shouldn’t have landed like it does.

Joya’s breath catches, then releases slow, deliberate. She sets her drink down, stands, and closes the space between them until her knees brush his.

“You ask good questions,” she murmurs, tilting his chin up with a single finger. “Let’s see if your hands give the same respect.”

His fingers slide up her thighs—slow, reverent, like the build-up is better than the prize. He doesn’t grip. Doesn’t move too quickly. He explores.

Joya watches him, her hands still, body poised like royalty.

“You want permission,” she whispers, brushing her lips just shy of his. “You wait for it.”

Smoke nods, voice low and solid. “Every time.”

And that’s when she shifts.

Straddling his lap, her hands on his chest, her mouth finally—finally—meeting his in a kiss that doesn’t ask, doesn’t warn. She tastes like the bourbon he poured and the fire he didn’t know he needed.

He doesn’t take control. Not yet. But when he kisses her back, there’s something in it—heat that mirrors hers, hunger that doesn’t beg but matches. It’s not surrender.

It’s a challenge met.

A game just beginning.

The kiss doesn’t break.

It just… bends.

Slows, curves, folds into something molten.

Joya moves like a woman in no hurry—like the heat between them is best when it simmers. Her hips press down, just enough to make her presence known. Her mouth traces Smoke’s like a secret. And he stays still for her. All that muscle, all that power, waiting under command.

When she finally pulls back, her lip gloss smudged and eyes half-lidded, she speaks like she’s still tasting him.

“Not bad,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb across his jaw. “You kiss like you respect women.”

Smoke’s voice is a gravel drawl, thick and low. “I do.”

Her smile is slow and approving. “Then you’ll have no problem sittin’ right there and lettin’ me enjoy myself.”

She glides off his lap with effortless grace, rising to her full height before him. His eyes track her every motion, intent and devout, like a man absorbing sacred text.

She turns around and walks away from him. Just a few paces. Enough to let her curves sway under the low light. Then she stops, peeks over her shoulder with a knowing little smirk.

“You like watchin’ me?”

Smoke leans back, spreading his legs wider, arms resting on the back of the couch. “You already know.”

She chuckles under her breath and pulls the crop top over her head in one smooth motion. No theatrics, just confidence. Her skin gleams warm and soft in the golden light. Her bra’s a deep burnt orange lace, delicate, and meant to be seen.

She turns around slowly. “I don’t move fast for nobody,” she says. “But I do like to tease.”

Smoke’s jaw flexes. His eyes drink her in. Still—he doesn’t move.

“I’m not tryin’ to speed you up,” he says, voice barely above a growl. “Just grateful for the view.”

Joya walks back toward him, hips fluid, unhurried. She climbs onto his lap again, bare skin warm through her jeans. Her fingers trace the neckline of his shirt, dragging slow.

“You always this good at holdin’ back?” she asks, cocking her head.

Smoke’s hands rest on her thighs, his palms wide and hot but still gentle.

“I only move fast on the field,” he says. “Everywhere else? I like to take my time.”

That earns a low laugh from her, rich like honey. “Careful,” she whispers, brushing her nose against his. “You keep talkin’ like that, I might start believin’ you’re dangerous.”

He lifts his hand, finally, slow—and curls his fingers around the back of her neck. No pressure. Just a hold. A claim. The first real touch with intention.

“I am dangerous,” he says, low and clean. “But not to you.”

Something flickers in her eyes—interest, maybe. Or challenge. She leans in and kisses him again, deeper this time, slower. Her tongue traces his bottom lip like she’s drawing lines only she can cross.

Smoke groans into her mouth, a sound so soft and restrained it makes her thighs clench.

Joya pulls back and whispers, “Take your hoodie off. Slow.”

He obeys.

He shrugs off his hoodie, peeling it over his head like a man shedding a moment, not just clothing. The fabric drops to the floor, forgotten. Tattoos ripple across his chest and arms—ink etched deep into muscle, old warnings and stories carved in black. Her eyes follow every line. She reaches out, tracing one with her finger, circling a flame curling around words she can’t quite read in the low light.

“You always burn this hot?” she asks.

He tilts his head, voice low and rough. “Only when I’m invited.”

She leans in, her mouth brushing his exposed collarbone, then gliding up the side of his neck. Slow, deliberate kisses that stop just shy of giving in. When she speaks, each word skims across his skin like a spark.

“You’ll wait until I say when. And when I do… you better hold on.”

Smoke’s grip on her waist tightens, just enough to promise restraint won’t last long.

Then he smiles—that quiet, dangerous smile that means the fuse has already been lit.

“I’ve been holdin’ back for hours, ma. You tell me when, and I’ll give you everything.”

————-

Taglist: @gtf-o-m-d @spookysanta @michelley-rome @bigjh @anniensmoke3 @hdfen2474 @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @killmongerdispussy @theogbadbitch @ccwpidsblog @princesskillmonger @blowmymbackout @theethighpriestess @blktinkerbell @steampunkprincess147 @diamondsinterlude @partylikemajima @theegoldenchild @mhhhhmmmmmmm @coolfoodrunworld-blog @lilchubbs @thebumblebeesworld @mastertia221b @brownskincheyenne @belleofthefloor @c0tt0ncandi @irefusetobeacasualty @cocoxciv-blog @melodyofmbaku @lb-xci

[bohemianblasphemy]

Can I request from the prompt list ‘You look better with my hands wrapped around your neck’ with ‘You’re mine,’ please??

You absolutely can ✨

Walking into your shared apartment with Butcher hot on your trail, slamming the fragile wooden door behind you both.

“Oi, what the fuck was that?” Billy was pissed, having watched Frenchie shamelessly flirting with you in the office, right in front of him.

-

“Has anyone today told you how… c’e belle you look?” Frenchie leaned over your desk, smiling at you suggestively. You looked up at him, giving him a quick smile. “Thank you Frenchie…” “ No I mean… really, you look radiant…” he smirked.

Butcher sat at his desk, red filling his vision as jealousy fueled his body. You could see him from behind Frenchie, his flared nostrils giving away his true feelings.

He knew that you wouldn’t reciprocate that flirting, but his territorial nature was overpowering- he couldn’t stand the French man chatting up his girl.

-

“Billy, it was harmless- it’s not that deep. It was a compliment. You don’t complain when Annie or Hughie do it!” You tried to explain how nonsense it was that he felt that way.

Butcher knew that you were right, but his stubbornness was too strong. “You may not see it the way I do, but he was eye fuckin’ ya that whole day.”

He walked toward you, taking your hips into his hands as he walked you both backwards into the kitchen island, pinning you to the cool ceramic.

Almost jet black eyes darted across your face as butcher looked down at you with possessive and lustful gaze.

“You’re mine…” he grumbled. “No one else can touch ya, no one knows how to like I do… ya understand?” He traced your jawline with his index, seeing you shiver with delight as his finger traced down your neck.

“I-I understand…” you whispered, looking up at him with battering lashes. He chuckled, seeing your submissive eyes and your slightly parted lips.

More fingers touched the skin of your neck, before placing his entire hand around it- creating a firm but gentle grip. Hearing you gasp softly and look at him with an expression that was begging for more of his actions made him even harder for you.

“Such a good girl f’me… so sensitive.” He gave you a wolfish smile as he squeezed your neck, emitting a soft moan from you. Butchers lips met yours momentarily, biting the fullness of your bottom lip playfully as he pulled back to admire your features once more.

“You look so much better with my hand wrapped around your neck…”

[puffballthesheep]

LOVE ME BACK — PIECK FINGER.

vamptober — slight edging ; find masterlist here

synopsis. In the hidden depths of Attack on Junior High, a captivating character named Peick appears, emanating a captivating vampire-like presence. The reader finds solace with her comrades Zeke, Reiner, Porco, and Annie, longing for a sense of belonging. Filled with seething rage, Peick sets out on a mission to unleash her fury upon the one who rejected her love.

length. 5.2k words (I attempted to make ts short)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, vampire peick! high school au (reader is a senior student), age gaps (100+ difference), vampire, manipulative peick, blood, gore, dead bodies, hurtful words, heavy make out session, slight edging, slight smut, names (love, dear, sweet & ect.)

Notes. this took so mfkn long to write bc first I can’t make anything short, nor can I function w/o it being long, but anywho whoever requested this, wassup dude, I been doing good n I hope u are too, but now we finna get into it but If I were you I'd lock my doors before reading this 🤸🏾

Eighteen-year-old (name) had experienced a great loss at a young age when her mother passed away, yet she had been blessed with an incredible relationship with her father who had raised her alone since then. Growing up in the peaceful suburbs, the two of them had grown incredibly close over the years, having an almost psychic connection - they would always know what the other was thinking and even feel when the other was near.

One morning, (name) came downstairs to have breakfast with her dad, and with a smile she said cheerfully, "Good morning, dad! Thanks for breakfast this morning." As she started to eat, her dad asked her how she had slept. She took a sip of her orange juice before answering, her eyes twinkling with joy as she said, "Pretty good actually, no nightmares or anything," and she shrugged as she set down her cup, before taking another bite of her food. "That's good to hear," her dad said warmly, his face beaming with love.

The two of them chatted as (name) enjoyed her breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausage, the aroma of the food filling the air of the quaint kitchen. Suddenly, her dad said he had a meeting later and he'd be home late, so not to wait up for him. (Name) nodded and looked up at the clock on the stove, realizing it was almost time for her to leave for school. She stood from the table, put up the leftover food into the refrigerator, and grabbed her backpack. "Bye Dad, I love you," she exclaimed, her voice filled with warmth. Her father smiled and waved as he was putting away his dishes and getting ready for work. "Love you too, have a good day at school," he said with a kind smile, his eyes twinkling with emotion and pride.

As the final bell reverberated through the halls of Attack on Titan Junior High, signaling the end of yet another mundane day, (name) found herself enveloped by her group of friends during passing period. "Well, well, if it isn't (name). It's been ages since I've laid eyes on you," Reiner, with a beaming smile, pulled her into a tight embrace, his arm naturally draping over her shoulders. Looking up at him, (name) playfully squirmed out of his grip, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe because I get to class, unlike some of you," she retorted, her voice laced with a touch of sarcasm.

Not one to back down, Porco quickly stepped forward, his emotions getting the best of him. "But hey, at least some of us manage to make it to class and get our work done," Porco fired back, his words dripping with a ruthless edge. (Name) let out a soft sigh, fully aware of Porco's tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve. "Ah, Porco, always ready with a comeback," she replied, raising an eyebrow in a knowing manner. The mention of Porco's impending Saturday school attendance struck a chord, and (name) couldn't help but smirk as Reiner let out a hearty laugh, his firm grip on Porco preventing him from lunging at her in frustration, as he often did whenever she struck a nerve.

Leaning against the wall with a casual air, Zeke joined the conversation, his voice calm and composed. "You know, (name) has the best grades among all of us. I'm genuinely proud of you," he remarked, his admiration shining through. (Name) scoffed, readying herself to make her exit. "Eugh Zeke! Can't you stop sounding like someone's overprotective father? It's just plain creepy, especially when you already look like you're in your forties in the twelfth grade."

Just as (name) was about to leave, her path was unexpectedly halted by Bertolt, who gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Curiosity flickered in (name)'s eyes as she turned back to face him, her tone guarded. "Whatchu want?" she inquired, her voice tinged with caution. Bertolt handed her a stack of photographs, captured through his camera lens. Being the resident photographer, (name) possessed the unique skill of working in the darkroom, a talent unknown to her friends. "Could you possibly take these to the darkroom and meet me there after I find Annie?" Bertolt requested, his eyes filled with hope. Glancing at her phone to check the time, (name) nodded and then proceeded to walk away, leaving Bertolt to his search. "Sure thing. Enjoy your quest, but I can inform you that Annie hasn't graced us with her presence in days."

Reiner and Porco watched (name) depart, the latter still holding back a torrent of insults, assuming that she was too intimidated to confront them again. "She's always slipping away," Reiner murmured, a hint of sadness echoing in his voice. Porco, unable to contain his frustration, unleashed a string of profanities. Suddenly, the authoritative voice of Assistant Principal Levi cut through the air, causing the trio to turn their attention towards him. With a stern expression, Levi addressed Zeke directly. "Zeke, report to the principal's office immediately." Reiner and Porco exchanged glances, astounded by Zeke's audacity to smoke a cigarette in plain view of everyone. "What a delightful evening we're having, isn't it, Mr. Ackerman?" Zeke remarked, his words dripping with disdain. Zeke nonchalantly dropped the cigar and extinguished it with his foot, begrudgingly following Levi's lead. "Tch, shut it, you piece of shit," Levi retorted coldly, the tension between them palpable.

Unbeknownst to her, as she weaved through the bustling school hallways, a cacophony of noise enveloped her senses. The crowded corridors echoed with the hurried footsteps and animated conversations of students. Amidst the chaos, an eerie atmosphere hung in the air, gripping her with an unsettling feeling of being watched.

Glancing around, she found everyone engrossed in their own affairs, oblivious to the hidden observer. However, her gaze inexplicably landed upon Pieck, a former member of her friend group who had become a subject of her disdain. Pieck stood alone, seemingly detached from the bustling crowd, and she knew better than to trifle with her.

Pieck's appearance had changed subtly over time. Her once-tanned complexion and deep brown, sometimes gray eyes had transformed, giving way to a hint of red. It was a drastic alteration that intrigued her, though she concealed her fascination beneath a veil of hostility, conforming to the unkind treatment perpetuated by her friends.

As she passed by Pieck, their eyes met, and the chilling effect of Pieck's gaze sent shivers down her spine. Pieck always seemed to gravitate toward the shadowy corners, exuding an aura reminiscent of a vampire's allure. Yet, she dismissed such notions, knowing better than to believe in mythical tales.

Despite the bullying that she subjected Pieck to, she met her actions with an unwavering sweet smile, leaving her perplexed and questioning her own motives.

Determined to avoid further interaction, she rolled her eyes in defiance and briskly turned the corner, attributing her unease to the unsettling encounters of the day. With a sigh of relief, she pushed open the heavy door to the darkroom, immersing herself in its mysterious embrace.

As the door closed behind her with a resounding thud, the room enveloped her in darkness. Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit space, revealing an enchanting sight. Pulsating red lights bathed the room, casting an ethereal glow that danced upon every surface. A chill, inexplicable yet tantalizing, crept down her spine, captivating her senses in an instant.

In the dimly lit dark room, she set the photos down on the table, soon feeling chills run down her spine. As she turned around, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest, and she let out a loud scream. There stood Pieck, a girl she just saw in the hallway, yet her vampire-like appearance commanded attention. Pieck's hinted red eyes, dark brown and almost black under the blood-red lights, seemed to possess an irresistible power, drawing her in.

Suddenly, she was snapped out of the trance by Pieck's voice. "Good afternoon, (name)..." Her soft, delicate, tired voice sent a wave of excitement through her. She couldn't help but admire Pieck's beautiful, disheveled hair, lazy eyes that complemented her Greek nose, and full lips that begged to be kissed. Despite the pressure to dislike Pieck, driven by the disapproval of friends, she secretly felt an unexplainable attraction towards her.

Pieck's gaze seemed to search for something deep within her, as if she hadn't entered the dark room without making a sound. She finally gathered the courage to speak. "Pieck... how did you get in here so quietly?" She began to walk past Pieck, her backpack hanging from her right shoulder.

Pieck watched her intently, carefully observing every movement. Her cold, icy hands sent a shiver down her spine, further fueling her 'dislike' towards her. "Uh, can I help you?" She prepared to break free from Pieck's grip, but suddenly found herself pushed against the wall, with Pieck's finger pointing directly at her, holding her wrists above her head.

As she stared into Pieck's eyes, the room's atmosphere turned chillingly cold and the light of the red lights reflecting off Pieck's eyes. Trembling under her touch, she was astonished by this sudden change in Pieck's demeanor, as she was usually gentle and polite. It infuriated her to admit her feelings for Pieck, especially after speaking negatively about her. Unbeknownst to her, Pieck was more than just a human; she possessed an uncanny ability to read people.

Despite her attempts to break free, Pieck's grip remained unyielding. Pieck's small frame overpowering her seemed inexplicable, reinforcing the perception that she was peculiar. "Let me go!" Even with a tight grip, Pieck's movements were slow and delicate, while her eyes seemed to hypnotize her.

Pieck spoke softly once again, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. "How can I, when you know just how much I love you, (name). Why do you ignore me?" Her free hand traveled from her shirt to her hair, twirling a lock around her finger. Pieck listened to her heartbeat, every move she made on her accompanied by the red dim light that accentuated her every motion, revealing a glimpse of her razor-sharp fangs.

Pieck's words quickened her heartbeat, as they shared the same feelings but couldn't express them. "Pieck, why are you doing this...?" She asked, struggling to free her hands from Pieck's grip. "Listen to me, (name). Tell me how you truly feel... no more lies."

Pieck knew there was something about her that she held dear, but she refused to grant her desires. After numerous attempts to escape, she kneed Pieck in the stomach and forcefully pushed her away. The impact was hard enough to cause Pieck to spit up blood, and she slowly lifted herself up with the support of the file cabinet next to her.

Turning back, she picked up her backpack and uttered hurtful words, "Wanna know how I really feel about you? Nothing but a disgusting disgrace. Loving me? Oh please, move on because who would ever love you?" Pieck's heart sank upon hearing her cruel words, reaching out her hand, ready to say something. "Don't leave me alone, (name)..." Her voice filled with sorrow, as she had nobody left in her life, with her mother gone and her father gone as well.

She opened the door to the dark room, preparing to step into the brightly lit hallway, making Pieck flinch. But before leaving, she turned back, saying, "You know... no wonder why people despise you. I'm certain you were the catalyst behind your father's tragic demise... you're nothing more than a repugnant disgrace and an insufferable burden. It's no surprise you find yourself utterly alone." She closed the door behind, leaving Pieck in there alone.

Pieck took her hand out of reach and wiped the blood from her mouth, knowing (name) had made a big mistake. This was the last chance Pieck gave her.

Just like that, she left Pieck in the dark, red room, unaware of how far Pieck would go to hear the words she desired. As she turned to her left, she saw Bertolt standing before her, wearing a puzzled expression. "What happened?"

At the eerie hour of 6:30 in the evening, (name) returned home from school, a lingering sense of unease enveloping her. The house, usually filled with the comforting presence of her father, was now shrouded in an unsettling silence.

With a heavy heart and a hint of trepidation, (name) settled herself at the kitchen table, desperately attempting to immerse herself in her homework. But then, out of nowhere, a searing pain pierced her delicate neck, causing her to wince in agony. The pain subsided momentarily, leaving her bewildered and unnerved. Determined to dismiss this inexplicable occurrence, she carried on with her work.

However, the pain returned with a vengeance, intensifying with each passing moment. "Ow! The fuck is this pain coming from?" she cried out, seeking solace in the freezer's icy grasp. Placing an ice pack on her throbbing neck, the pain gradually dissipated. Puzzled yet resolute, she pondered the enigma that had befallen her.

As the clock mercilessly ticked towards 8 o'clock, her father's absence weighed heavily on her mind. Homework completed, she ventured into the living room, hoping to wait a little longer for her father's return.

Engulfed by the flickering light of the television, hunger began to gnaw at her insides. With a resigned sigh, she reached for her phone, intending to order pizza from a nearby establishment.

"Hello, I would like to place an order," she spoke into the phone, her voice trembling ever so slightly. After conveying her desires, she set the phone aside, letting the monotony of the television lull her into a state of drowsiness. Unbeknownst to her, sleep gradually entwined its insidious tendrils around her weary frame, veiling her consciousness in a nocturnal embrace.

Suddenly, she was transported back to memories of her childhood, back in the house where her late mother once resided. Sitting at the kitchen table, she cast her gaze towards the stove, where an ethereal figure stood with its back turned, preparing a morning feast. Approaching the table, the figure placed a plate of eggs before her, whispering a chilling warning into her ear: "Don't open the door."

Abruptly, her surroundings shifted once more, this time to the side of a bustling highway. Amidst the cacophony of vehicles, a distant figure beckoned, its voice rendered incoherent by the clamor. Straining her senses, (name) discerned her father's voice, urgently imploring her: "Don't open the door!"

Startled, she jolted awake, her mind racing to comprehend her surroundings. The couch, her only companion in the dimly lit room, offered no solace. "what a weird dream. It felt so real," she mused aloud, its vividness leaving an indelible mark upon her psyche. Yet, her respite was short-lived, as the doorbell abruptly shattered the silence.

*Ding dong.*

Her body, guided by a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, propelled her towards the door. However, as she passed the window, she recoiled in terror. Darkness had descended upon the world outside, a foreboding sign that time had slipped away unnoticed. Doubt plaguing her thoughts, she retrieved her phone, only to discover that the clock now displayed the witching hour: 3 AM. Her heart pounding, she turned back to face the enigmatic intruder lurking beyond the threshold.

"Dad! Are you home?" she called out, her voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and fear. But the doorbell persisted, its relentless chimes growing more frenzied with each passing second.

*Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.*

It struck her then - something was dreadfully amiss. A chill crept up her spine as the memory of her dream resurfaced, her father's caution echoing in her mind.

"Don't open the door!"

With trembling hands, she refrained from unlocking the door, instead choosing to seek confirmation from her father through the peephole. There he stood, unflinching, his eyes fixated on her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. This inexplicable stillness, coupled with the incessant ringing of the doorbell, struck terror into her very core.

*Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.*

"Dad! Is someone with you? answer me! I refuse to open the door until you respond!" she pleaded, her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.

*Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.*

Overwhelmed by panic, (name) collapsed, as she pressed herself against the door, desperately avoiding any action that would invite further dread. She couldn't explain it, but an overwhelming sense of terror gripped her, eventually lulling her into an exhausted slumber beside the door, the relentless toll of the doorbell serving as a haunting lullaby.

As the morning sun bathed the world in its gentle glow, (name) stirred from her restless sleep. Recollections of the previous night flooded her mind, urging her to action. She cautiously rose to her feet, distancing herself from the door that had become a harbinger of nightmares. Glancing out the window, the sight of daylight offered a modicum of solace.

Summoning her waning courage, she approached the door once more, swallowing the fear that threatened to consume her. Peering through the peephole, she met her father's gaze once again. she opened the door and only this time something was horribly wrong. Her father's severed head, grotesquely suspended from a hook, greeted her horrified gaze. The weight of despair settled in her stomach, threatening to engulf her entirely. Clutching her abdomen, she stared at the blood dripping onto the doorstep, uttering a feeble question into the abyss.

"W-who could have done this?"

Her eyes fell upon a note lying on the ground, soaked in crimson. Trembling, she picked it up and read its chilling message:

"Now, who's all alone now?"

The note slipped from her trembling grasp, and in that moment, the door slammed shut with an otherworldly force. Just as she turned to face the darkness that encroached upon her, (name) was violently yanked backward, her screams drowned by the suffocating embrace of the abyss.

(name) awoke to find herself trapped in an unknown and eerie place. The stench of blood assaulted her senses, causing her to gag as she cautiously surveyed her surroundings. The walls were cold and made of rough stone, barely allowing any light to penetrate the darkness. Above her, a single flickering light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting sinister shadows that danced along the walls.

Suddenly, a chilling sight caught her eye. A table stood in the corner, and blood dripped steadily from its surface, pooling on the floor below. As her eyes adjusted further, the true horror came into focus. A headless body lay upon the table, its life force gruesomely drained by some unseen force. (name)'s heart sank as she recognized the victim - her own father - his lifeless form bearing cruel bite marks.

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze shifted to another figure, their body still bleeding profusely, crimson liquid flowing perilously close to where she was bound. With growing dread, she followed the trail of blood, her eyes widening in terror as the truth unraveled before her. The wounded person, dressed in a gray hoodie and jeans, was none other than Annie, her friend. Weak and trembling, Annie turned towards (name) with pleading eyes, her blonde hair matted with blood.

"(name)...help...me..." Annie's plea was cut short as death claimed her, right before (name)'s horrified gaze. A gut-wrenching scream tore from (name)'s lips, echoing through the blood-soaked chamber.

The single light bulb overhead flickered ominously, casting erratic shadows that danced upon the walls, heightening the sense of impending doom. (name) desperately struggled against her restraints, feeling the cold, rusty chains digging into her flesh. She strained to stand, but the unforgiving grip of the chains held her captive, an agonizing reminder of her helplessness.

As she cast her gaze towards the middle of the stone door, footsteps grew louder, each one a chilling symphony of dread. The light bulb's flickering intensified with each approaching step, accentuating the darkness that enveloped her soul. The door creaked open slowly, revealing the figure responsible for her torment.

A shiver ran down (name)'s spine as Pieck entered the room, her disarming smile mirroring the gentle facade she had worn the day before. Clutched in her arms was (name)'s father's severed head, blood still dripping from her mouth. The sickening truth became undeniable – Pieck was a manipulative and sinister vampire, masquerading as a sweet and innocent creature.

"Peick!! You did this, didn't you? Why would you..." (name) choked on her words, her voice trembling with fear and disbelief. Pieck's crimson gaze bore into (name), her expression devoid of remorse as she callously dropped the decapitated head to the cold, blood-stained floor, splattering the crimson liquid onto (name)'s tear-streaked face.

(name)'s heart pounded in a terrifying mix of fear and sorrow, overwhelmed by the loss of her father and the horrifying uncertainty of her own fate. Pieck moved closer, her graceful steps belying the monstrous creature she truly was. She knelt before (name), placing a hand on her trembling thigh, while her other hand wiped away the tears that stained (name)'s cheeks.

"(name)...don't cry. You brought this upon yourself," Pieck whispered, her voice both soothing and haunting. She tilted her head, her bloodstained lips curling into a sinister smile, revealing her sharp, elongated fangs. (name) recoiled at the sight, transfixed by the blood that stained Pieck's teeth, her long tongue leisurely licking away the crimson droplets.

Terror consumed (name) as she finally found her voice, tremblingly uttering, "You aren't human, are you?" The realization of the monstrous truth sank in, sending shivers down her spine.

Without breaking eye contact, Pieck continued to explore (name)'s body, her touch moving from the thigh, to the side of her stomach, and finally to her breast. Her thumb caressed the delicate flesh, while her other fingers sought the pounding heartbeat beneath (name)'s chest.

"I'm surprised you didn't realize it sooner, (name)," Pieck whispered, a sadistic pleasure lacing her words. As (name)'s heartbeat raced with increasing panic, she struggled to breathe, her gasps for air growing more desperate. Drawing nearer, Pieck's voice slithered into (name)'s ear, sending a bone-chilling shiver down her spine. The words dripped from her lips like venom, a sinister promise hanging in the air.

"Breathe, my dear. I won't harm you... yet."

Pieck's presence alone was enough to unleash a torrent of fear within (name). As she leaned back, a sickening curiosity mingled with her terror, unable to resist the allure of Pieck's touch, even in the face of impending doom. But reality crashed down upon her when she looked down at the ground, her eyes fixating on her father's severed head. In a desperate attempt to shield herself from the grotesque scene, she clamped her eyes shut, refusing to witness the horrors before her.

Suddenly, an unnatural weight settled upon her lap. Her gaze shifted downward, revealing Pieck perched upon her, her icy hands caressing (name)'s cheeks. She compelled (name) to meet her gaze once again, their lips tantalizingly close. However, Pieck abruptly withdrew, her movements betraying a calculated cunning. With a slight tilt of her head, she fixated her piercing gaze upon (name) and silence descended like a suffocating fog.

"Why did you say those hurtful things to me, (name)..."

(name) froze, the memories of the cruel words she had hurled at Pieck resurfacing. In that dire moment, she struggled to conjure any justification, realizing that her desperate attempts to fit in had only birthed destruction. "I... I didn't mean it," (name) stammered, devoid of any coherent explanation. "All I wanted was to hear you say that you love me..."

Peick's soft plea echoed through (name)'s ears, weaving a spell that threatened to ensnare her mind. Her eyes, hypnotic in their intensity, seemed to coax (name) into surrendering to her will. Doubt crept into (name)'s thoughts as she began to forget the atrocities committed against her father and Annie. Deep down, she started to believe that she was to blame for their suffering. "No... it's all my fault... I caused my father's death..." (name) whispered to herself, her gaze falling into her lap.

Tears welled in her eyes as (name) succumbed to the hypnotic allure of Pieck's gaze and voice. "I love you too, Pieck... I couldn't tell you because..."

A wicked grin twisted across Pieck's face, her eyes narrowing with a malevolent glint. She relished in her manipulative power, reveling in the opportunity to make (name) forget her sins. "I always knew you loved me, (name), my sweet. The words I've longed to hear... It didn't have to come to this, but you drove me to it, my dear..."

Pieck's grip tightened on (name)'s bound hand, refusing to release her hold. Finally, (name) snapped out of the bewitching trance, realizing the depths of Pieck's depravity. "No, Pieck! What you've done cannot be undone! Yes, I loved you, but how could I ever love you now?! What you've done is unforgivable!" (name) cried out, her eyes drawn to the lifeless bodies of Annie and her father, a grim reminder of the carnage wrought by Pieck's insidious actions.

In the face of (name)'s defiance, Pieck fixated her gaze upon her, an insidious silence punctuating her ominous presence. With a sly sigh, she sharpened her nails, a wicked transformation taking hold. "(name)..."

Pieck exhaled, refusing to relinquish her grip on (name)'s conscience. "I never wished for it to come to this, but you continuously rejected my attempts to connect with you... I tried to do it the right way, but you denied me at every turn... I only wanted to know why..."

(name) cast her gaze downward once more, her heart heavy with guilt. She recognized her own fault in pushing Pieck away, knowing all too well the countless times Pieck had tried to bridge the divide. Compassion stirred within (name) as she contemplated what it must be like to stand in Pieck's shoes. "I know... and I'm sorry! I shouldn't have pushed you away or uttered a word about your father... But why did Annie have to suffer too?"

Pieck's smile contorted into an eerie gentleness as she gazed upon her lifeless victim, Annie. "Poor, poor Annie," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "She'll be back soon, my heart...but for now, just focus on me." The words of protest began to form on (name)'s lips, but a sinister calm washed over her, drowning out any resistance. Pieck was up to her dark deeds once again.

As (name) shifted uncomfortably, a chilling sensation spread across her body. It was then that she realized she was lying in a pool of her own blood, her life essence draining away. Panic gripped her as she struggled to comprehend the horrifying reality unfolding before her. "When did..." (name) managed to stammer, but Pieck interrupted with a gleeful grin, relishing in the terror she had instilled.

Unbeknownst to (name), Pieck had viciously slit her back while she was caught in a fit of righteous anger, berating Pieck for her unforgivable actions. The cunning vampire ensured that (name) remained fixated on her, her mesmerizing voice and piercing eyes numbing any sensation of pain. It was all part of Pieck's twisted plan to manipulate (name) into becoming her companion for eternity.

Pieck forcefully turned (name)'s face towards her own, their eyes locked in a macabre dance. "Everything's fine, (name)," Pieck hissed, her voice laced with a sickening sweetness. "(Name), I still want to be with you. I'll protect you. I just want you to be with me forever..." Dizziness overwhelmed (name), her mind clouded and her willpower crumbling. A faint smile crept across her face as she succumbed to Pieck's wicked charm. "I'm sorry for everything I've done...I love you too, but I was wrong..." (name) whispered, their voice barely a breath. Pieck hushed (name) with a tender gesture, then pressed her lips against (name)'s, a kiss filled with twisted passion.

Pieck's hands slithered from (name)'s cheeks down to her shoulders, intensifying the heated kiss. Her tongue hungrily sought entry, licking at (name)'s bottom lip, leaving a taste of the blood she had recently fed on. Their tongues clashed in a battle for dominance, fueling Pieck's insatiable bloodlust. Her nails dug deep into (name)'s shoulder, drawing fresh blood that sent shivers down Pieck's spine, igniting a primal desire within her. The once gentle vampire grew more aggressive, her hunger escalating.

Within the depths of their twisted embrace, (name)'s faint moans echoed, a symphony of pleasure and pain. (name) weakly placed their hands on Pieck's sides, attempting to push her away. Pieck's concern was thinly veiled as she gazed down at (name), a hunger in her eyes that matched the thirst coursing through her veins. "Pieck...I feel so weak," (name) managed to utter, struggling to catch their breath. "You're doing so well, my sweet," Pieck murmured, her voice laced with sadistic satisfaction. "Just hold on..."

With a renewed hunger burning within her, Pieck reclaimed (name)'s lips, savoring every moment of their macabre union. The overwhelming scent of (name)'s blood intoxicated her, driving her to taste every inch of their being. Kissing down (name)'s jawline, she gradually made her way to the vulnerable expanse of (name)'s neck.

(name) willingly offered up their neck, granting Pieck unrestricted access. Even as their life force slipped away, (name) squirmed beneath Pieck, feeling a perverse wetness between their legs. Pieck seized upon this opportunity, grinding against (name) with a primal hunger, their moans intensifying as the friction between their thighs ignited a twisted pleasure. While Pieck marked (name)'s neck with countless hickeys, her hand returned to caress (name)'s cheek, her thumb pressing gently against their skin. As Pieck's fangs grazed (name)'s neck, a surge of pain mingled with a familiar sensation, reminiscent of the mundane discomfort of doing homework at a table.

Deep down, (name) knew this was wrong, but they were ensnared in Pieck's web of manipulation, unable to break free. As Pieck sank her razor-sharp fangs into (name)'s neck, the pain was numbed, replaced by a tingling sensation that mirrored the bite of a pen on paper. (name) turned their head slightly, groaning weakly as their strength waned, their eyes fixated on Annie's lifeless body. "We have... to save Annie..." they whispered, their voice fading.

Pieck withdrew, her fangs dripping with the crimson elixir of her beloved's life force. Her wild, disheveled curls framed her bloodstained face as she wiped her lips, gazing down at (name), teetering on the precipice of death. A wicked grin spread across her visage as she kissed (name)'s forehead. "Very soon, my love," she whispered, her voice echoing with sinister delight. "Soon, you will be just like me... and we can live together forever."

(name) mustered the last remnants of their fading energy to gaze at Pieck, a feeble smile gracing her lips. Unbeknownst to (name), a new set of fangs had sprouted in her mouth during this unholy transformation. Pieck watched with rapt attention as (name) underwent their metamorphosis, relishing in the macabre beauty of her creation.

y’all the theme of this ‘lil’ one shot is basically to be yourself, don't try and play who you're not to fit in with the crowd cs y’all saw what happened to ol reader girl, but anywho y’all prepare yo self for a hange x fem! reader x yelena vamp one shot cs das what’s comin next 😭

[moonspirit]

More Papamin!( ̀⌄ ́)Please！

Aahhhhh hello, and I'm sorry, I actually have more papamin drafts saved but didn't have much time to flesh them out T^T

But have this!

Papamin Propaganda #8:

When aruani firstborn daughter is old enough and going to elementary school, she often overhears her classmates talking about the reaction of how their parents felt when they were born.

One boy says, "My dad said when I was born, I looked like a warrior!"

One girl says, "My mom said i looked like a little diamond!"

Another kid says, "My parents said I looked like a baby cow. I was really cute."

They ask her: "What did you look like?"

But she's stumped for an answer. "... I-I don't know..."

Later that week, she finds her mother folding laundry slowly, looking a bit tired.

"Mama."

"Hm?"

"What did I look like?"

Annie lifts her eyebrows, setting down a pile of shirts. "What do you mean?"

Her daughter shifts from foot to foot. "When I came out of here," She reaches out to pat Annie's swollen belly. "What did I look like?"

"Hmm," Annie lightly hums, swishing her lips to a side. "You looked like a potato."

Her daughter is aghast. "A potato?!"

"Yup. A potato," Annie nods matter of factly. "Go ask your father, he's the one who said it first."

Off goes her daughter, marching to the kitchen, anxious and disappointed. On her way she spots a small basket of potatoes in the pantry, all brown and fairly ugly. Not a warrior, not a diamond, not a baby cow but a potato?! What will she tell her friends? They'll laugh!

She finds her father before the stove, chopping vegetables in a casual shirt, sleeves rolled up. It's the off season for her parents, there are no diplomatic meetings for a few months.

"Papa," She says, sidling up next to him, standing on her tip toes to see the array of chopped ingredients on the counter.

"Yes?" He says sweetly, flashing her a smile.

"Is it true that-"

But she's cut off by the pressure cooker letting out a shrill whistle of steam. Armin turns off the stove. A delicious aroma wafts from it. Something a little familiar though she can't put her finger on what.

"What was that?"

His daughter hesitates, biting her lip. "Is it true that... I looked like a potato?"

"A potato?" He repeats with mild intrigue, giving her a brief look.

"When I was born," She says louder, more dejected. "Mama said I looked like a potato."

Now Armin pauses, takes note of her crestfallen face, and throws his head back and starts to laugh.

"Papa!" She whines, heart sinking. So it was true after all. She'd rather not go to school now.

"Oh dear," He chuckles, putting the knife down and crouching down to her height. His hands, smelling of bell peppers and carrots, take hold of her cheeks, squishing them lightly. Disappointed light blue eyes meet amused, bright blue ones.

"You did look like a potato," He confirms, grinning.

"So I was ugly," Her shoulders slump. "Mama said you called me a potato first."

"I did," He chuckles, pinching her nose. "But you know why?"

She stares back dully at his twinkling eyes, not really keen on knowing.

"Because when your mom was pregnant with you, she had a craving for so many different foods," He explains, standing up to pop off the pressure cooker's lid. Thick steam rises from within and the aroma grows stronger. "By the end, all she wanted to eat was one thing though," He raises his eyebrows at her. "Want to take a guess what it was?"

His daughter shrugs.

"Okay," Armin laughs. "Say aaahh-"

She does it out of reflex, "Aaaahhh."

He pops in a chunk of something hot and purple. It melts in her mouth, the sweetness spreading across her tongue.

"Sweet potatoes," He grins. "All she wanted was sweet potatoes. And you looked like the sweetest potato I've ever seen."

She chews slowly, wide eyed and blinking at his highly amused face.

"Annie!" He laughs over his shoulder at approaching footsteps. "You have to tell her the whole story."

Annie steps into the kitchen, looking hungry now. "I... I want some coconut. Do we have any coconut?"

Hm, their daughter thinks, swallowing. Its warm and sweet, travelling down her throat.

Potatoes aren't so bad after all.

[egnlotsc]

love has got me swept away - egnlotsc

~~Percabeth AU in which Annabeth is the bubbly owner of a cozy inn and Percy is an injured firefighter with a chip on his shoulder~~

"Annie, where are the new tablecloths? Cal moved them and it's like they've disappeared into thin air..." Piper's voice trailed off as she stepped into the room.

Annabeth glanced down from her perch on the rickety old ladder, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing against the overhead light's edge. "Annabeth, what are you doing?" Piper questioned, her brown eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. 

Annabeth rolled her eyes in response to Piper's overly concerned tone. "I'm trying to change the bulb, it's burned out." Piper sighed heavily. "You're going to hurt yourself. Why didn't you ask Leo to help you?"

Annabeth made her way down the ladder, careful to avoid the thinner rungs. "He already does so much for this inn, Pipes. I wanted to try something on my own for once." Piper's gaze softened as she glanced up at the light. 

"How about we just leave it alone? It's not the world's most pressing matter." Annabeth smirked at her best friend's sarcastic tone. "In other news, we have a new guest arriving today.

He has some special accommodations that we need to go over," Piper continued, leading Annabeth to the desk in the lobby where a binder sat, overflowing with papers. Annabeth's eyes widened as she took in the small, chunky text littered across each page. 

"What on Earth?" Piper nodded knowingly, scooping up the binder and opening it.

"My exact reaction when I saw this monster-binder. His name is Percy Jackson, he's a firefighter from the town over. Apparently he was injured during a call and needs a place to rest away from..." Piper squinted at the page she held, "...prying eyes. Is he a celebrity or something?" Annabeth smacked her friend's arm, biting back a smile. "Be nice, Piper." 

Piper opened her mouth to retort when the inn's bell chimed, announcing the arrival of a guest. Annabeth smoothed her thigh-length floral skirt and stepped into the main room, her gaze catching first on a tall, blonde man with glasses who held a briefcase in each hand.

The man appeared to be exasperated, his voice projecting across the room. "Perce, stop being difficult. This was the best we could find on short notice." 

Annabeth bristled at the man's words, biting her lip in an effort not to speak up. She took a step forward to greet the guest when another man entered, leaning heavily on a single crutch.

Annabeth took in his messy black hair and piercing green eyes, catching on the bright blue cast wrapped around his left leg. Her cheeks flushed as she realized just how attractive this new arrival was, but she internally chided herself for her thoughts. 

The click of Annabeth's heels against the lobby's tile alerted the two men of her presence. The blonde offered her a sheepish smile, while the other looked her up and down, his face unchanging.

She cleared her throat, plastering on the brightest smile she could muster while simultaneously ignoring the way Mr. Cast was making her feel. 

"Welcome to the Sapphire Inn! I am Annabeth Chase, owner and manager. How can I help you?" The first man stepped forward, holding out his hand. "I am Jason Grace, Percy's best friend and personal caretaker."

The dark-haired man scoffed, shifting his weight uncomfortably. Jason cleared his throat. "Percy's been...unhappy since the accident. I apologize in advance for his attitude and behavior." 

Annabeth bit her lip, unsure how to respond. "It's quite alright, Mr. Grace. If you are ready, I can show you to your rooms." Jason smiled gratefully, following her down the hallway. "I have placed you in rooms across from each other. I figured it would allow for easier access."

She stopped in front of two doors, holding the door open tentatively for Percy. He brushed past her as he limped through the threshold, forcing her to bite back a remark. 

Jason smiled at Annabeth as he followed Percy into the room, whispering a soft thank you before the door shut behind the two men. Annabeth sunk against the wall, letting out a heavy sigh. She mentally prepared for the longest month of her life. 

~~~

So far, Percy had managed to avoid any human interaction beyond Jason's constant nagging. He was moments away from locking himself in his room for the rest of eternity.

Two weeks prior, he had been doing what he loved - firefighting - with full mobility. Now, he could barely walk across the room to get a cup of water. How pathetic. 

A soft knock on the door caused Percy to glance up in confusion. Jason never knocked, instead choosing to bust through the door as if there was a murderer around the corner or something equally as dramatic.

"Come in," Percy called, refusing to move from his position on the couch. It's not like he would make it to the door in a normal amount of time, anyway. 

Annabeth stuck her head in the room, smiling much to wide for any normal human being - or maybe Percy was just being pessimistic. "Mr. Jackson?" He merely nodded, wishing for the hundredth time his door had a lock.

The woman stepped into the room fully, revealing the stack of towels she held in her arms. "I brought you some fresh towels. I trust your stay has been well so far?" 

Percy held back a sigh, nodding his answer. As Annabeth turned to leave, he couldn't help but let his gaze linger on the way her curls fell down her back, the way her skirt swayed around her legs as she walked.

Suddenly, he came back to reality, shaking his head. Stop thinking about her. You're not here to become attached. You're here to heal and leave as quick as possible. 

~~~

Annabeth pulled the tray of cookies from the oven, sighing wearily as she turned off the heat. Yet another bulb had burned out on the lobby's overhead light. Leo had taken Calypso on a weekend in the city, meaning she was short a handyman.

Her thoughts were scattered as she leaned against the counter. A searing pain interrupted her thoughts, and she glanced down to see her arm resting against the pan fresh out of the oven. 

Biting back a yelp at the pain, she quickly removed her arm and ran to the sink. She had just stuck her arm under the cold water, wincing at the shock of it, when an odd clicking resounded from behind her.

She looked over her shoulder and saw Percy making his way into the kitchen, his crutch bouncing against the hardwood floor. He didn't seem to notice her at first, his gaze focused on the tray of cookies abandoned on the counter. 

Annabeth shifted her arm, accidentally letting out a whimper as the ice cold water hit the most sensitive area of skin. Percy's head whipped around at the sound, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him.

Annabeth couldn't find it in herself to be embarrassed, though she knew without a doubt that she looked ridiculous with half of her body in the industrial sink Calypso just had to have for her kitchen. She blew a strand of hair out of her face, shooting Percy a sheepish smile. 

"Smelled the cookies, huh?" Percy didn't respond, instead moving as quickly as he could to her side, his hands reaching for her arm. Annabeth gasped softly as her arm was removed from the water and the air hit it.

"Annabeth, this is a third degree burn." Percy's voice was deathly serious as he looked down into her eyes. Briefly, she wondered how he knew before she remembered the whole reason he was leaning on his crutch. 

"I set my arm on the cookie pan accidentally," Annabeth explained, watching as Percy's closed-off expression softened at her words. "Only you," he muttered, beginning to turn around in search of something.

Annabeth's pulse jumped at the surprising amount of affection laced in his words. He had only been at the Inn for two weeks, after all. Sure, they had had a few conversations, one that had lasted over an hour after Percy had bumped his leg trying to take a walk and Jason banished him to the sitting room couch as punishment. However, Annabeth hadn't expected...whatever that was. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" Annabeth questioned, setting her good hand on her hip with what she hoped was an intimidating expression. Percy didn't seem fazed though as he began digging through the nearby drawers.

"Piper told me about some of your...mishaps," he responded, glancing up at her with a meaningful expression, his green eyes tinged with amusement. Annabeth's cheeks flushed as she mentally prepared the epic lecture she was going to give her best friend the next time she saw her. 

"So, I'm a bit clumsy. Everyone is." Percy chuckled lowly, causing Annabeth's heart to race. She bit her lip, focusing solely on Percy's frantic searching. "What are you looking for?" Percy didn't respond for a moment, muttering something under his breath that she couldn't quite make out.

"It's a kitchen. Where in the world is the first aid kit?" Annabeth smiled at the exasperation in his tone before pointing at the cabinet underneath the sink. He nodded before using his good leg nudge the door open, leaning down slightly and scooping it up.

Annabeth was admittedly impressed with his resourcefulness. Yet another thing that made Percy Jackson all the more dangerous for Annabeth's emotions. 

Annabeth realized with a start how close Percy's face was as he leaned in to look closer at her arm. She couldn't help but watch the way he focused entirely on making sure her arm was properly bandaged, the way he handled her arm with a uncharacteristic gentleness.

His touch sent goosebumps down Annabeth's arm, and she could only pray he blamed it on the cold air blowing across her still-damp skin.

When Percy finished taping off the last of the gauze, she looked up and blinked in surprise at the expression written across his face. It was nothing like anything she had ever seen before. 

For a moment, the world slowed around them as his gaze traced the length of her face, pausing for a second too long on her lips. Annabeth could feel herself leaning in, and she was almost certain he was leaning in too.

His cologne, some kind of oceanic scent that Annabeth couldn't get enough of, enveloped her as the distance between them became smaller and smaller. Annabeth could almost feel his kiss when a loud crash resounded from the lobby, startling Annabeth backwards away from Percy.

She pressed her lips together, trying to tamper down the disappointment rising in her chest. Since when did she feel like this? Since when has a man been able to affect her the way Percy can?

"I'm fine!" Piper's voice echoed throughout the Inn, shattering the tense silence between the two. Percy cleared his throat, his eyes stormy with emotions Annabeth couldn't read. "We need to get you to the hospital," he gestured towards the kitchen's door. Annabeth shook her head, her mind racing faster than she could keep up with. "It's fine, Percy. I have to help Piper with the books-" "Oh no, you won't," Percy's voice was firm as he gently placed a hand on her back, leading her out of the kitchen. 

"The first thing we learned during safety training is that a burn second degree or higher requires immediate medical attention." Annabeth scoffed, irritated with his urgency.

"I need to..." she trailed off as he wrapped is free arm around her waist, his touch rendering her speechless. "If I have to carry you out of this inn, I will, Annabeth."

Annabeth could only nod as they made their way to his truck, where Jason was already sitting in the driver's seat. 

Jason smiled knowingly as Percy opened the passenger side door for her. Annabeth raised an eyebrow, prompting Jason to laugh. "Piper saw Percy bandaging your burn. I knew Percy would drag out to the hospital one way or another so I figured I'd just wait in the truck."

Percy glared at his friend as he used the built-in step on the side of the truck to hoist himself into the back, expertly draping his crutch across his lap. "Shut up, Jase," he growled. Jason laughed heartedly before pulling out of the parking lot.

Annabeth risked a glance in the rearview mirror and caught Percy staring at her. The look on his face, one of concern and something deeper, affected her more than she cared to admit. 

~~~

Percy ran his hands over his face, furious that he had almost allowed himself to kiss Annabeth back in the kitchen. The way his heart had dropped when he saw the swollen redness of her arm still was fresh in his memory.

It wasn't just because of the years of training he had, or his inability to abandon someone who was hurt, it was his growing feelings for the owner of the Sapphire Inn.

She was so girly, so flirty, so headstrong it drove him crazy. He hadn't felt like this for anybody before. 

Jason sank into the chair next to him, a paper coffee cup balanced in the crook of his arm and a stack of papers in his hands. "Discharge papers," he explained, picking up a pen.

Percy shot Jason a look of gratitude for filling out Annabeth's papers and collecting her information via her wallet that she had lent Jason before being admitted. Percy had since learned her middle name was Rose, she was a month younger than him, and she didn't carry any cash. 

Percy had just successfully blocked one of his many thoughts about a certain inn keeper when the door across from where he and Jason were seated opened to reveal Annabeth standing on the other side.

Her braid was disheveled, curly strands falling across her face and into her eyes. Her soft pink dress stood out against the harsh white walls of the hospital, and suddenly Percy couldn't take it anymore. 

Disregarding his crutch, Percy stood and in a few steps had Annabeth pulled up against his chest, his hands gripping the soft material at her waist. Annabeth's strawberry perfume filled his senses as she let out a small gasp at his close proximity, her grey eyes widening in shock.

Percy glanced down at her lips and back up, enjoying the way her cheeks pinkened before she nodded imperceptibly and he didn't hesitate to crush his mouth against hers.

Splaying his hands across her back, he gently guided Annabeth back into her hospital room and allowed the door to shut behind him before pulling back, tucking a fallen curl behind her ear. 

"About time," Annabeth whispered before threading her hands through his hair and pulling him back down to her lips. Percy lost track of time as he kissed Annabeth with everything he had, losing himself in everything about her.

He had just pulled her onto his lap when a knock on the door interrupted, forcing Percy to pull back from Annabeth. Jason's amused voice echoed through the closed door. "I wouldn't recommend continuing whatever you two are doing in a hospital. At least wait until we get back to the inn!" 

Percy growled with frustration, scooping up the pillow on Annabeth's bed and hurling it at the door. "Shut up, Jason!" he yelled before turning back to Annabeth, whose eyes were sparkling with amusement.

Percy grinned, wrapping an arm around Annabeth's waist and falling back onto the bed, pulling her down beside him. Annabeth giggled softly, curling into his chest. "All of the places in the world you could have gone, and you came to my inn."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Beth," he whispered in reply, kissing her like he wanted to since the moment he saw her in the lobby his first day at the Sapphire Inn. 

~~~

Annabeth glanced up from her book at the sound of the inn's bell, smiling to herself when she heard the telltale sounds of the local firefighters laughing and teasing each other as they prepared for their weekly dinner at the Inn.

Annabeth carefully stood up, setting a hand on her slightly swollen stomach as she made her way into the lobby. She had just reached her second trimester, meaning she was at the stage where her husband acted as if her simply walking to the kitchen would cause her to break every bone her in her body. 

As she stepped into the front entrance of the inn, she watched with amusement as one of the firefighters, Zach, elbowed the dark-haired man in the middle of the group. "Excited to see your wife, Perce?" Jason stepped up next to Percy and smirked.

"What kind of question is that, Zach? You know Percy can't go five minutes without talking about her. Annabeth this, Annabeth that-" Jason was cut off by Percy's shove.

"I hate you, Jase. You have no room to talk, Mr. I'm Obsessed With Piper." Jason blushed at the mention of his fiancee. 

"He's not wrong, Jason," Annabeth teased, enjoying the way her husband's face lit up at the sight of her. Jason rolled his eyes, stepping out of the way as Percy pushed past him and rushed to Annabeth's side.

"Beth, what are you doing down here?" She rolled her eyes at Percy's words, glaring up at him. "I'm four months pregnant, Percy. I'm not bedridden." Annabeth could hear Percy's crew snicker behind him, grinning at the slight annoyance on her husband's face.

She was about to turn around and greet the rest of the guys when Percy wrapped an arm around her waist and spun her into his chest. 

Annabeth glanced up to see a smirk on his face before he pulled into a kiss so passionate she could feel herself getting lightheaded. Whistles and cheers resonated behind them, but Annabeth paid no attention as she sunk into her husband's embrace.

Another moment passed before he pulled back, a sly smile spreading across his face as he registered Annabeth's cheeks flush with embarrassment at the display of affection. "Gotcha," he exclaimed.

Annabeth rolled her eyes, resting her forehead against his chest. "You better not embarrass our child like that," she replied, one hand on her hip.

Percy gave a look so full of love her heart felt like it might burst. "Our child," he whispered, setting his hands on her stomach. "Our child."

Annabeth smiled up at her husband, knowing that she had found her happily ever after.

[noloveforned]

i'm back from my long weekend in chapel hill and ready to hit wlur at 8pm with a new show so tune in if you're around tonight!

last weekend was all about celebrating 35 years of merge records. i joined in on the fun with a three hour restrospective of merge releases (stream it on mixcloud) in (mostly) reverse chronological order. as always some stuff got left out so my apologies go out to polvo, sacred paws, and the others i would have liked to squeeze in!

no love for ned on wlur – july 26th, 2024 from 8-11pm - merge records 35th anniversary show

artist // track // album // label superchunk // everybody dies // everybody dies 7" // merge quivers // apparition // oyster cuts // merge rosali // my kind // bite down // merge mhaol // bored of men // attachment styles // merge carson mchone // hawks don't share // still life // merge hiss golden messenger // hardlytown // quietly blowing it // merge the mountain goats // last gasp at calama // songs for pierre chuvin // merge cable ties // hope // far enough // merge archers of loaf // raleigh days // raleigh days 7" // merge gauche // flash // a people's history of gauche // merge swearin' // oil and water // fall into the sun // merge waxahatchee // silver // out in the storm // merge h.c. mcentire // quartz in the valley // lionheart // merge teenage fanclub // the darkest part of the night // here // merge twerps // back to you // range anxiety // merge ex hex // waste your time // rips // merge mikal cronin // weight // mcii // merge mount moriah // lament // mount moriah // merge wild flag // romance // wild flag // merge times new viking // it's a culture // dancer equired // merge superchunk // digging for something // majesty shredding // merge jay reatard // pull down the shades // stroke - songs for chris knox tribute // merge telekinesis // coast of carolina // telekinesis! // merge big dipper // wrong in the charts // supercluster- the big dipper anthology // merge shout out louds // normandie // our ill wills // merge camera obscura // lloyd, i'm ready to be heartbroken // let's get out of this country // merge robert pollard // dancing girls and dancing men // from a compound eye // merge tenement halls // plenty is never enough // knitting needles and bicycle bells // merge arcade fire // neighborhood #1 (tunnels) // funeral // merge richard buckner // a chance counsel // dents and shells // merge crooked fingers // big darkness // red devil dawn // merge destroyer // this night // this night // merge the essex green // the late great cassiopia // the long goodbye // merge the rosebuds // kicks in the schoolyard // make out // merge spoon // small stakes // kill the moonlight // merge the clean // drawing to a whole // anthology // merge annie hayden // red lines // the rub // merge the ladybug transistor // perfect for shattering // argyle heir // merge the rock*a*teens // car and driver // sweet bird of youth // merge superchunk // hello hawk // come pick me up // merge neutral milk hotel // two-headed boy // in the aeroplane over the sea // merge lambchop // your fucking sunny day // thriller // merge butterglory // she clicks the sticks // are you building a temple in heaven? // merge east river pipe // hey, where's your girl? // poor fricky // merge the magnetic fields // born on a train // the charm of the highway strip // merge 3ds // beautiful things // the venus trail // merge seam // granny 9x // granny 9x 7" // merge erectus monotone // vertigogo // vertigogo 7" // merge finger // everywhere // everywhere 7" // merge chunk // my noise // what i do 7" // merge

[huntedinhavensdale-rpg]

It's raining blood on prom night...

The class of '17 graduated. They lived under the dome, they played by the rules and they made it. They graduated. And they were going to have a prom too. Well, it wasn't like... An ideal prom. A real prom. A no-curfew prom but it was something. So, the class of '17 headed to Havensdale Town Hall (one room, 2 exits, easy to surveil and keep safe), before curfew, and danced the early evening away. They made some memories, they drank their punch. The teachers that chaperoned this year were on high alert, ready for the worst to happen. But it didn't. Everyone went home on time and it was over. Or so they thought. The unrest in the class of '17 had been growing, the plan had been strictly whispered among only them although more would come along. They had a plan. They were going to have a real after-prom party, after curfew. Someone had stolen the keys to the school, someone had supplied the cheap beer. Someone had made the most awesome party playlist and everyone was dressed up. For a while, it was fun. It was free. It was almost like everything was back to normal. And then they heard the first screams.

After curfew, the claws come out...

The doors locked in the school gym and it was every man for themself. With the heroic efforts of Laurie Black (Liam Black's sister) - Landon Callaghan, Yvonne DeLisle, Jamie McArthur and Annie Porter made it out. So many of their classmates didn't. Laurie included.

Tick, tick, boom!!

Just when they thought it was over... there was an explosion! Only, it was weird. It was like, an implosion - it perfectly demolished Havensdale High without any flying shrapnel, without any mess. It was science. It was magic. It was the same weapon the Resistance had tried to use on November 2016. The one they had to abandon at Montgomery Manor. The one the bad guys planted in the school basement instead. It happened so fast. Now, there's nothing but carnage and chaos. If you're out on the streets now, you better run fast.

OOC Information:

You can now make starters in the aftermath of the chaos! For those select few unfortunate enough to be at the event, you can also make any threads during along with headcanons/drabbles/etc.

Your character might be safely inside but heard the explosion, or they're glued to the news listening to Wendy Star talk shit about the Resistance. They might be out on the street, caught in the crossfire. They might have been at the after-prom party or passing by the school. Let us know if you need anything cleared up!

The underground Resistance's alarm bells will have been LITERALLY going off so we can have agents on the ground, we can have our team on comms freaking out. We can have Xavier from weapons freaking out!!

Bad guys can be taking this opportunity to cause chaos in the streets, getting into fights - biting humans!? TURNING them!? - and standing toe-to-toe with the Resistance. Are some characters going to get hurt? Are some characters going to be #shaken? Are some characters never going to recover from the parts they've played? Probably!

If you would like anything major to happen to your character (ie. turnings), please do message us first!

Please do reach out to each other for plots, make starters. Did any of your characters know these unfortunate NPC in the class of '17?? Something to think about! As usual, the tag is hihstarter.

please like this post once you've read it.

[justamonkeyonautopilot]

Can't remember if it was last year or the year before I did this or both. But yesterday on my way to work I saw that Apple has already shared their Replay 2024 list. So I'm going to post it here to see if it has changed any by December. As once again I'm curious. I also noticed through this that some of the songs listed on here I have only listened to once so I have no clue how they generate these lists. Some I understand they're on there from the dance show back in February because I'd play them on repeat to practice.

Here we go then:

Texas Hold 'Em - Beyonce

Anatomy - Kenzie

Feminine Rage - Peggy

The Code - Nemo

A Bar Song (Tipsy) - Shaboozey

Stick Season - Noah Kahan

Marameo - Alessandra

I Choose Violence - Jax

Houdini - Eminem

Austin (Boots Stop Workin') - Dasha

90s Kids - Jax

The Me I Was - Kenzie

Sos - Soap

Heather On The Hill - Nathan Evans

Seventeen - Marina and The Diamonds

Born This Way - Lady Gaga

Get the Party Started - P!nk

Disconnect - Becky Hill & Chase & Status

Attention - Todrick Hall

As Long As You're There - Stuart Matthew Price (Carrie Hope Fletcher and Oliver Ormson)

Hayloft II - Mother Mother

Someone You Loved - Lewis Capaldi

Sail - Awolnation

A Song For Chelsea - Jax

Where Do All The Good Kids Go? - Maddie Zahm

Lost On You - LP

Naughty - Matilda Movie Soundtrack

Beautiful Things - Benson Boone

Anybody Have A Map? - Dear Evan Hansen

Something Just Like This - The Chainsmokers & Coldplay

Join Us For A Bite - JT Music

Kang Kang Kang (DJ) - Half Ton Brothers

The Gambler - Kenny Rogers

Dance With Me Tonight - Olly Murs

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da - The Beatles

Gangsta's Paradise - Coolio

Whistle (While You Work It) - Katy Tiz

Ava - Natalie Jane

Airplanes - B.o.B.

Found A Way - Drake Bell

I Just Can't Wait To Be King - The Lion King

Freedom - Pharrell Williams

Like My Father - Jax

Girl In The Mirror - Megan Moroney

W.I.T.C.H. - Devon Cole

The Room Where It Happened - Hamilton

Proud Mary - Tina Turner

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) - The Proclaimers

You'll Be Back - Hamilton

Youngblood - 5 Seconds of Summer

Wasn't Expecting That - Jamie Lawson

Hit The Road Jack - 2WEI & Bri Bryant

I Say No - Heathers

Bang Bang - Jessie J, Ariana Grande & Nicki Minaj

I Got Up - Overnight Lows

Pretty Devil - Alessandra

Working For The Company - Willy Moon

We On Top - Photronique & Shari Short

Pretty Little Black-Eyed Suzie - Guy Mitchell

21 Reasons - Nathan Dawe

Stargazing - Myles Smith

Below The Surface - Griffinilla

Kiss An Angel Good Morning - Charley Pride

Barry and Freda - Victoria Wood

Circle The Drain - Katy Perry

I Kind of Relate - Drake Bell

Helium - Sia

Teir Abhaile Riu - Celtic Woman

Bring Him Home - Ramin Karimloo

One Day More - The 2020 Les Miserables Staged Concert Company

I'm Not Here To Make Friends - Sam Smith

Dark Horse - Katy Perry

Don't Forget - Demi Lovato

It's Goin' Down - Descendants

I Do Not Hook Up - Kelly Clarkson

Break The Ice - Britney Spears

Candyman - Christina Aguilera

Vampire - Olivia Rodrigo

Hey Mama - David Guetta

Karma - JoJo Siwa

Beat Again - JLS

I Think I'm In Love - Kat Dahlia

Diva - Beyonce

Paint The Town Red - Doja Cat

We No Speak Americano - Yolanda Be Cool & DCUP

Boyfriend - Alphabeat

Get Stupid - Aston Merrygold

I Put A Spell On You - Annie Lennox

Let Me Down Slowly - Alex Benjamin

Can't Be Tamed - Miley Cyrus

They Just Keep Moving The Line - Carrie Hope Fletcher

Kings & Queens - Ava Max

Achy Breaky Heart - Billy Ray Cyrus

She Likes - Forever the Sickest Kids

Boyfriend - Dove Cameron

The Hanging Tree - Rachel Zegler

Hound Dog - Elvis Presley

42nd Street - 42nd Street

La Vecinita - Don Omar

You Matter To Me - Carrie Hope Fletcher

(After going through them again, I genuinely don't remember listening to half of them anytime recently - it's not that I don't listen to music either I have a playlist I play in the car when I'm driving and the songs off that aren't on this list)

[jesterbunnys]

she's sharing her infinite wisdom with her wonderful daughter

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

confronted with the past. ( leighton thomas x reader )

gif belongs to me

You grew up around the Loch, leaving for college to never return, until you realized your grandparents needed you around to help with day-to-day tasks. Having no other family, holding no memories of your parents who died in a car crash when you were a month old, you were raised by your mother's parents and after they died, you remained in the family house and never left.

Your marriage broke down shortly after your grandparents passed away, and the rumors are still talked about today, years later, long after he had moved abroad with a mistress he had started seeing a year into your short marriage.

You focused on your grandmother's flower shop business and keeping the garden as colorful as she had. You had been on several dates but rarely went on a second date with anyone, unwilling to let down the walls you had built to protect yourself and finding it difficult to meet someone new who had no idea of your past or wasn't a friend of your ex-husbands.

Then Leighton Thomas arrived and you had heard the whispers about the mysterious man who mainly kept to himself, starting a business, giving tours that dispelled Alan's theories about the Loch Ness Monster's existence. The two were friendly with their competition and you had known Annie for a long time. She knew how lonely you felt, isolated, even if you didn't say it, and she knew Leighton felt the same, but his past prevented her from setting you up on a date, however, she did introduce you both when you had joined her and Alan for lunch on his boat.

You were leaving the boat when Leighton came over to speak to Alan, and you sent him a small smile and held your hand out as Annie introduced you both.

"Nice to meet you."

"I've heard Alan complain about you a lot." Your words made his lips lift in amusement, "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Y/N owns the flower shop in town," Alan spoke up, noticing how you both couldn't look away from each other.

"I've seen it." Leighton nodded.

"We should get going." Annie interrupted and you bashfully pulled your hand from his, not realizing you were still holding it.

"I'll see you around?" Leighton turned to watch you walk away and you stopped, turning to meet his gaze with a smile that took his breath away.

"Considering the size of this place, I'd say that's likely." Annie cut in.

You glanced at your friend, then looked at Leighton. "If you ever need flowers…"

A smile formed on his lips as you walked away and when Annie looked back over her shoulder, it faded from the look in her eyes, reminding him of his past, things he tried to bury down, never forgotten but no longer kept him up every night.

He knew he should stay away. But after giving his last tour that day, Leighton knew his business would go under quickly if he continued being so distracted, losing himself in thoughts of you, and he knew he had to see you.

You were sweeping the floors, preparing to close the flower shop when you heard the bell above the door and turned, surprised to see Leighton entering.

"Hi." You greeted, holding the broom as he walked over to you.

"Hello." He smiled, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I know this is really sudden, but I'd like it if you - if we -" He took a deep breath, exhaling the fears that were preventing him from getting the words out. "Do you want to have a drink with me?"

You smiled softly, nodding. "When?"

Leighton froze, having not believed you would say yes, scrambling to recover, stumbling over his words. "We - how about tomorrow night? S-Seven o'clock?"

You nodded, and after agreeing to meet at the bar he left, leaving you to smile to yourself, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought about your date tomorrow night.

The bar was quiet, with only four tables occupied, which provided a peaceful atmosphere, and you entered to find Leighton sitting at a table. He stood up with a smile that you returned as you approached him.

Leighton knew he should have stayed away, Annie stopping by hours before to warn him away, but after battling with himself for over an hour, he arrived ten minutes early and awaited your arrival at the bar.

That night he learned why Annie was so over-protective. It wasn't just his past, but your own. You confided in him about your childhood and your marriage and he held your hand on the table throughout, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, putting you at ease.

"Your ex-husband sounds like a real bastard."

His words made you giggle just as you took a sip of your drink, and you covered your mouth, swallowing before nodding your head. His eyes lit up as he observed you with a smile that made your heart race.

"Maybe it's a good thing." He began. "I mean if it weren't for him, then maybe we would never be here. And I'm really glad you came."

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "Me too."

It was a cozy, passionate life, that in the beginning, you feared would end with heartbreak. But Leighton healed the wounds of the past and you knew after two months, looking over at him as he got into bed beside you, that this was it. He was it. Everything you wanted and didn't know you needed and more.

You maintained a quiet relationship, for the sole purpose of avoiding village gossip. Leighton valued his privacy as much as you did, allowing everyone to believe there was nothing more than friendship between you. Between stolen kisses, subtle touches, and closed doors, your relationship grew serious very quickly. Leighton shared your interest in literature and nearly every evening you were cuddling on the sofa as you both read, speaking when you had thoughts on the books you were reading.

Your relationship became public knowledge around the third month of your relationship. You had brought him lunch as you did every Wednesday, joining him on the boat before leaving to go back to the flower shop. He caught your hand before you could walk away after making plans for dinner that night and kissed you, his hands rising to your cheeks to pull you closer.

And as you lost yourselves in the moment, Alan had seen everything.

It became common for you to double date with Alan and Annie. Whether it was a quiz at the pub or Curling, you met once a week and sent tongues wagging.

There were many moments when Leighton felt like telling you about his past, but Annie's warnings about breaking your already fragile heart, and his fears that you would end things and the loving gazes would become glares of disgust, led to him prolonging the conversation as long as he could.

But when he was brought into the station there would be no more running.

Annie had asked you to tell him to go to the station, and you had brought it up with him at dinner, telling him she expected him in tomorrow. Immediately his demeanour changed and you frowned as you stopped talking about how unbelievable it was that a heart had been found, the suspected murder of Niall Swift, and the possibility of a murderer on the loose in a sleepy village.

"Are you okay?"

Leighton sent you a small strained smile, setting his glass on the table. "Yeah. How was work today?"

You had been out of the village delivering flowers for a wedding and Leighton buried down his unease as he listened to you, nodding now and then. His eyes were filled with regret, sadness, and fear as he looked down at you, unable to read his book that night while you were engrossed in yours. His arm tightened around your shoulders, as he pressed his lips to your head, eyes closing tightly as he sent a silent prayer, to never lose you - the best thing he ever had in his life.

The next day he went to the station and was taken to an interrogation room by Annie who told him to wait for DCI Quigley. She was concerned about the interview as DCI Quigley wanted to speak to you afterward, and knew the truth about Leighton's past would come out and she predicted that you would be left heartbroken.

He knew they kept him waiting hoping to make him uneasy, but Leighton only grew frustrated. He leaned against the wall, his eyes finding you as you waited with Annie who was at her desk. You were talking about her being taken off the case due to the prank with Evie, and you frowned, knowing how excited she was about her first murder case.

You met his gaze through the glass door and sent him a small smile that he returned. He swallowed the lump in his throat when you mouthed the words 'I love you'. He returned the sentiment and straightened when you were taken to another interview room.

DCI Quigley arrived moments later with Blake Albrighton and his interrogation began.

"Where were you between the hours of eleven and one thirty on Tuesday?" She asked.

"At work."

"Can you confirm that?"

"You've got me documenting my entire life," Leighton responded.

"How awful." She replied dryly. "At least you've got a life to document."

Leighton bit back a remark, "I took out tours at 11 o'clock, 12 and one. I can show you ticket stubs."

"Bring them in today." The DCI ordered.

Blake, who had been a silent observer thus far, spoke up, "We received a call today naming you as the killer."

"I bet they didn't give their name."

"But why would someone do that?" He asked.

"Some people think I'm damaging the local economy," Leighton replied.

"Why?" The DCI cut in.

"Because I tell the truth. I tell tourists there is no monster." Leighton answered.

"I wish that was the case." The DCI's words had their desired effect, cutting him deep.

"Why don't you just lock me up, eh?" Leighton leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Listen I know what I was and I know who I am now."

"Does she know?" He knew she was referring to you, and he swallowed the lump in his throat, believing that when you left the station, everything would change between you.

"No. She doesn't."

A half-hour later he was leaving to return with ticket stubs, while the DCI and Blake began your interview and you bit the inside of your cheek as they sat across from you.

"How long have you been dating Leighton Thomas?" She asked.

"Eight months." You replied.

"What's he like?" She began, elaborating when your eyebrows furrowed, "Has he ever been violent towards you -"

"No!" You immediately shot down. "God, no, I've never known him to yell, let alone punch somebody."

She wrote in her notebook before meeting your gaze. "You own the flower shop, correct?" You nodded. "Can you confirm your whereabouts on Tuesday between eleven and one thirty?"

"I was out of town yesterday. I had flowers to deliver for a wedding. I didn't get home until four o'clock." You replied. "The hotel staff can confirm it."

"We'll need those details." She said.

You provided her with the details and Blake, who had been silent, observing you as he had done with Leighton spoke up before the DCI could dismiss you.

"You feel that you know him well, do you?" He asked.

"I know who I'm falling asleep with, yes." You held his gaze as he studied you for a moment before nodding.

You left the interview room after the DCI told you to stay in the area and exhaled as you headed down the hallway, seeing Leighton speaking to Annie. He met your gaze and you frowned when he fled the station. You sighed, looking at Annie, and knew why.

Leighton avoided your calls for the rest of the day and you knew that he was hiding, ashamed of his past. You knew the only way to find out the truth was to confront him.

You had keys to each other's places and after stopping off for groceries, you went to his house, locked the door so he didn't know you were there, but time ticked away and he didn't return home. Your worry increased tenfold and you headed to the one place he was likely to be. His boat.

The boat was pulling away when you arrived and you quickly jumped aboard, holding the side tight as he steered the boat further into the loch. You noticed a backpack nearby and your eyebrows furrowed when it made a loud bang as it fell onto its side, as he turned.

The boat stopped a few minutes later and you kept out of sight as Leighton turned off the engine and observed as he hauled the heavy backpack onto his shoulders and tied it around his waist.

Realizing why he was out here, why he hadn't come home, you stepped out and he turned, surprised to find you had stowed away on the boat.

"Don't! Don't even think about it! How could you even think to -"

"What are you doing here?" He asked, eyes wide with panic as he untied the backpack. You watched as it sunk below the surface and the tears burning your eyes fell as you knew that was his plan. A painful suicide.

"You were really going to go through with it?" You whispered. "You were just going to - what? Disappear and think no one would notice?"

"I've done enough damage already. My past will always haunt me. It's better for everyone if I just disappeared."

"Not for me!" You stepped forward as your tears fell freely and Leighton glanced away, holding back tears of his own. You took a deep breath as the wind dried your cheeks only for more tears to fall. "I want to know why they brought you in."

His eyes darted to meet your gaze and he shook his head. "It's not something you want to hear -"

"And yet it is worth dying for." You crossed your arms, clearing your throat. "Tell me."

Leighton sighed when you placed two chairs across from each other, calmly sitting down but he knew you wanted to continue yelling.

"It was twenty years ago." He began, taking a seat across from you, crossing his arms. "I went to prison for killing two people." You listened intently as he explained what happened, how the first man had been tormenting him for a while when he was homeless on the streets, and one day when the man tried to take his blanket, he attacked him. You frowned as he continued, talking about his time in prison. "I couldn't read or write. While I was inside, I figured I needed to do something useful. That's where I earned my degree." After explaining how he ended up in the village, he leaned back in his chair, "Now you know."

You stared at him for a moment. All the questions you asked in your head, why he always kept himself from everyone at a certain distance. Suddenly everything made sense. Why he valued his privacy, why you sometimes wake up to find him in the living room, unable to sleep in the early hours of the morning, and why he was so elusive about his past. You knew it had been troubled, but never imagined it would be like that.

For so long he was like you. Isolated and alone. But you had found each other, and you could see in his eyes that he was afraid of losing you.

Leighton glanced at you when you rose from your chair, his eyes following your every move as you approached him. His eyebrows furrowed when you stood behind him, feeling your arms around his shoulders seconds later, and felt a lump form in his throat, closing his eyes when you held him.

"I'm not a saint."

"You never claimed to be." You kissed his cheek before pulling away to meet his gaze. "You changed."

"Did I?"

You wrapped your arms around him and settled yourself on his lap, holding his gaze. "You have changed." Your words had their desired effect as he looked down, nodding softly.

"I wanted to tell you - I was going to - I just -"

"I know." You placed a hand on his cheek. "I know."

"I'm sorry you've been dragged into this."

"We'll get through this. They'll find whoever did it."

"You should be running as fast and as far as you can." Leighton wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer. "I don't deserve you."

"You deserve to be happy. We can't change the past, but we can move on." You held his gaze, "You deserve to find happiness."

Leighton placed a hand over your hand that was on his cheek, and you knew what he wanted to say. He felt it with you, just as you found it with him.

You closed your eyes, feeling his lips on yours tenderly. "Promise me you won't try again -" Your voice cracked with emotion, "losing you - I couldn't -"

Leighton held you closer when sobs left your lips. "I thought if I was gone - I was trying to protect you from me."

You lifted your head, shaking it as you cradled his head in your hands. "I know exactly who you are. And I'm not afraid of you." His eyes closed and you wiped the tear that fell with your thumb. "I'm not afraid of you." You repeated, "I love you."

"I love you too." He rested his forehead on yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he held your waist.

"We'll get through this. I promise."

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Just some Yiddish Words

Schmuck: A total asshole

Putz: A dumb-dumb. Probably not as harsh at Schmuck. 

Schmatta: A rag, usually an old one used for dusting/cleaning. (Schmidt from New Girl uses this: “With nothing but the Schmatta on my back!”) 

Tchotchke - A Knickknack 

Macher: A real big shot. (Abe says this to Noah when he takes him to Bell Labs.)

Tsuris: Troubles 

Drek: Shit

Mishpucha: The family.  

Kvel: to be so proud you could plotz. (Lenny: “A doctor! Your mother must be kvelling!”)

Plotz: Fall over. 

A Loch im kopf: A hole in the head (as in “I need this like a hole in the head.”)  

Tuchus: a BUTT!

Nosh: A bite to eat.

Kevtch: Bitch about, or complain.

A Mensch: Generally used for men, but, a good person. 

Chutzpah: Nerve/Balls.

Meshugge: Fucking crazy.

Shande: A scandal! Midge dating Lenny would cause a shande in the Catskills (which is a great name for a fic).

Shiksa: A non Jewish woman who prefers Jewish men. IE: Astrid. Mei. Sadly, this is often used as an insult. But I guess if you don’t use the word “witch” directly after it, it’s less harsh (*eyes my terrible family*)

Shlep: Lug around. You can shlep yourself and other people, and also things. “I shlepped all the way to the Upper West Side to see you.” 

Bubbe and Zeyde: Grandma and Grandpa. (in Community, Annie talks about going to the movies with her Bubbe. Troy responds with “JUST ONE?!” and also, Stars Hollow has Bingo Bubbies.)

[erenscherub]

chapter 5 | series masterlist | chapter 7a

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬.

pairing: eren x fem! reader

chapter summary: you find out why eren, petra, mikasa, annie, and zeke are banned from all ymca facilities in the u.s. and finland

warnings: infidelity, miscarriage, blood, violence, physical assault, attempted murder (?)

word count: 6.1 k

Your husband is on your shit list for many, many things.

He forgot your birthday

He rescheduled the wedding anniversary dinner twice

He didn't even show up to the rescheduled dinner and stood you up for two hours

He forgot both ultrasound appointments despite numerous attempts to contact him

He tried to smother Colt in his sleep after he found out that Colt and Annie were there to support you when you had a miscarriage

He flew over to California just to threaten Marcel with a crowbar the day after your fight

He's fucking cheating on you

He has this irritating habit of keeping the most useless shit in big-ass filing cabinets

He has jealousy issues and a nasty temper

He can’t apologize for shit

He loves platitudes

Fucking hell, there are so many of the aforementioned items on your list that should take priority. You know your husband means well. You know that Eren is just really bad with communication in general. But there is nothing that pisses you off more when Eren uses an overused and trite cliche to try to excuse his fuck-ups.

While Mikasa and Annie are struggling to take down the filing cabinets, your husband peers through the gaps in the objects to make eye contact with you.

There's that unsettling dull and murky hue in his eyes as he reasons, "Baby, look. I'm so sorry I forgot your birthday, the wedding anniversary, the ultrasound appointments, and about my filing system. I’m sorry I was a dick. I didn’t mean anything I said when you came back from California. I love you more than my own life.” He sighs, “But happiness is a choice. And when life gives you lemons. Well, baby, you just gotta make lemonade." You take a deep breath as you shake your head at your husband.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

With a shrug, he repeats, "Baby, happiness is a choice. And time heals all wounds if you let it."

You're trying hard to bite your tongue. But both your chest and jaw are beginning to tighten, and your muscles feel too rigid. Through gritted teeth, you spit out, "Donut."

Eren pauses and tilts his head quizzically as Mikasa's and Annie's heads snap up. Their faces mirror a Cheshire smile and a bright gleam appears in their eyes. After they step away from the barricade and closer to your husband, you breathe a sigh of relief.

The tension melts from your shoulders as your husband no longer appears in your line of sight. Silence settles on the second floor since your friends are no longer landing judo kicks against the dresser or filing cabinets. You relish in the peace and quiet and jump under the covers of the full-sized bed.

During lunch breaks with Annie, Petra, and Mikasa, you would have both boba and ice cream every week. You've been in New Hampshire for over five years. In over 500 dessert runs, you four have never gone out for donuts.

Which is why your three friends and Zeke agreed it would be the perfect code word for you to use if you were ever uncomfortable and you needed their help to diffuse the situation.

After relying on your intuition when it came to Eren's infidelity, you began trusting your gut feelings more. You usually have a three-tier system before you dissolve into a panic. The first stage is warning bells whenever there's a feeling of unease bubbling in the pit of your stomach. The second stage is red flags whenever your attempts to better understand or solve the issue are unsuccessful.

The final stage is lanterns:

One for if in your midst is a cheater,

Two for if something headed your way brings the Grim Reaper,

And three for someone who seems too eager

People are different, so sometimes it's trial and error to see what works best to deescalate the situation. "Donut" was implemented after you tested three methods that were all unsuccessful in conveying to Darius Church-Dietrich that you weren't interested.

Furlan and Ian Church-Dietrich are your sweetest patients. Even after more than 30 years of marriage, adopting and raising three children, and experiencing all the aches and pains that come with old age, they still gazed at each other with the adoration of first love. It wasn't uncommon for your older patients to be accompanied by a family member. Usually, one of their sons Keith or Nile, or their daughter Rico would be the ones to sit in the waiting room. Then after their granddaughter, Isabel, got her driver's license, you'd see her with her grandparents bimonthly.

One instance, only Darius was available to drive his grandparents to their appointment. He seemed nice. Maybe asked a few too many questions about your interests outside of a physician and not enough about his grandparents' treatment plans. Yet, the warning bells didn't start blaring until Darius had requested Petra for Furlan and Ian to have separate and more frequent appointments.

In two weeks, when Darius came in with Furlan, you made sure to overtly display your wedding ring. Furlan even asked questions about how your daughter Eliza was enjoying her swim lessons. You lean your cheek against your left palm, making sure your wedding band is in Darius's line of sight.

"My husband is looking forward to watching her compete in swim meets. Since my husband also played ice hockey in college, he wants to start teaching our daughter how to ice skate." You smile sweetly at Furlan as he recommends a few ice skating rinks nearby.

The following week when Ian's appointment was scheduled, red flags were waving everywhere when he and his grandson had brought you a boba milk tea from Kung Fu Tea. Ian beamed, "I know you always tell Furlan and me how important it is to watch our sugar. But I have to say that boba really does satisfy the sweet tooth." Darius hands you the drink, and you only poke your straw through the plastic to take a few sips since Ian had good intentions. This time, you had asked that Annie stay in the examination room with you for the duration of the entire appointment.

Even her withering, ice-cold glare would not deter Darius from talking over his grandfather to ask more personal questions about your child and if it was possible to schedule a one-on-one appointment with you to discuss his "lifestyle choices and how to improve his health."

It definitely would improve your health if Darius didn't have a sweet tooth for you.

At the end of the month, you requested Eren to sit in the waiting room during Furlan's following appointment. You normally get frustrated with your husband's jealousy and anger issues. It took him a while to understand that it was normal for you to be so physically affectionate. You always held Armin's or Connie's hand, leaned your head against Jean's shoulder, rested your head in Mikasa's lap, clung onto Annie's arm and would cram yourself as close to her as possible, or would not release Petra from an embrace.

That was one of the things your husband loved about you, actually. You constantly peppered your daughter's and Cyrus's faces in kisses whenever you saw them and would pull them both into your lap. Whenever he came home from work, you'd always greet him with a kiss and card your fingers through his hair as you situated yourself in his lap.

You were never one to hold back from physical displays of affection. Still, it surprised Eren when you pulled him forward to you by his belt loops and kissed him until you both were breathless, in the middle of the waiting room and in front of two patients. Not that he was complaining.

When you slid your right hand into his back pocket, he placed a few more kisses on your nose, forehead, and the crown of your head. He snickers into your hair. "Baby, if you wanted my wallet, it's in my front pocket, and all you had to do was ask." His hand cups your cheek as your (Y/E/C) peers into his sea-green ones.

You give him a final peck on his lips. "Wasn't reaching for your wallet, Eren. Just wanted an excuse to touch your butt." You both grin at your statement and you can hear Furlan chuckle in the background.

You pivot on your heel to face the two in the waiting room. "Furlan, this is my husband, Eren. Eren, meet one-half of my sweetest patients, Furlan Church-Dietrich. And that is his grandson, Darius." Eren wraps his arm around your waist while greeting the other two.

Furlan smiles at the two of you. "You have good taste, (Y/N). And Eren, you are so lucky to have someone like (Y/N). She's always saying that me and my husband are the sweetest. But when you have a doctor like her, how can you not be? She always takes such good care of us." Three lanterns were lighting up at the way Darius was staring down your husband.

"It's just so sweet how your husband visits you at work and greets you that way. There's nothing like young love, right, Darius?" Furlan nudges his grandson who has a tight-lipped smile.

The office space has rectangular tables with 24-inch iMacs resting on top for Petra and Annie to complete their work. The door from the waiting room leads into the office space. To the left of the tables is the corridor leading directly to the examination rooms. There's also a window of plexiglass in the office space that allows Annie and Petra to gaze into the waiting room. Annie, Petra, Zeke, and Mikasa are all speaking in hushed tones as the four of you walk in through the door to the office space and while you proceed to take Furlan's height, weight, and blood pressure. They're frowning with their arms crossed and eyes narrowed in your direction as you continue with Darius and Furlan down the short corridor that leads to the examination rooms.

Eren decides to hang back after noticing his friends' reactions. He plops down on the couch in the corner and sees how the tension in their shoulders and rigidity of their stance seem to increase after Darius shuts the door to the exam room. Eren scrunches his eyebrows as he questions, "What the hell is wrong with you four? Was it that bad that my wife kissed me in front of the patients?” Eren leans back against the couch as he rolls his eyes. “It's not like you're going to lose patients even if you consider it to be unprofessional conduct, Zeke." They all shake their heads at Eren's statement.

Annie huffs, "It's not you. And it's definitely not (Y/N). It's Darius. She even had me sit in with her the entire duration of the last appointment when he showed up with Ian. She doesn't mind receiving holiday cards or thank you notes from Ian and Furlan. But Darius got boba from Kung Fu Tea just for her. He even asked Zeke if (Y/N) had any food allergies." Her nostrils flare and her jaw clenches.

"She told me that she's tried everything. Had her wedding ring out. Talked about you and Eliza. Even gave me the green light to stare him down.” With her arms folded, she fumes, “Darius still wouldn't stop making (Y/N) uncomfortable with personal questions of 'her interests outside of work' and if he could have a 'personal one-on-one session with her weekly to improve his health.' "

Petra taps her foot impatiently. "That's why she asked you to come here. She's hoping that the sight of you will finally make him back off.” Craning her neck to sss if the examination room had been propped open during their conversation, Petra recounts, “(Y/N) called me and Levi in a panic the other day to come pick her and the kids up. Darius showed up at YMCA as Eliza's and Cyrus's new swim instructor."

༄༄༄

Unfortunately for the five of them, Darius had shut the door. Fortunately for you, your rooms still reverberated clearly down the hall and to the office lounge. You smile at Farlan as you praise him for maintaining his blood pressure and blood sugar in a healthy range.

Before you can even confirm his medication history, Darius cuts you off. "At first, when my grandparents were raving about Dr. (Y/N), I was wondering what is so special about her. Now that I met you, I see. Word of mouth says that you're walking sex on a stick and have the smile of an angel." You let out a nervous laugh gazing around the room furtively.

You wonder why Furlan has not made any attempts to chastise his grandson. Then you see that he had taken out his hearing aids to adjust them. ‘Sneaky bitch.’

Your hand is on the doorknob, but Darius is leaning his weight against the door. "I know you're married. But it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you," he states while leering at you.

You're in a workplace. You're supposed to be professional. Meaning you can't exactly shove Darius out of the way. Or tell him to fuck off when your patient, Furlan, appears to be almost done with adjusting his hearing aids. You call out, "What was that, Annie? A patient is on the phone?" You shift your weight from foot to foot as Darius finally steps aside. You rush out of the door and to the office room where Zeke, Annie, and Mikasa are holding Eren down to the couch while Petra is trying to muffle his curses with her hands clasped over his mouth.

༄༄༄

At the sight of you, Eren stops struggling. The three of them relax and release Eren. He darts from the couch and stands in front of you. While he analyzes your appearance for any bruises, cuts, or anything else out of place, you interlace your fingers with his.

You turn to Zeke and ask, "Can you take over the rest of the appointment? And would it be too much to ask if I could take the remainder of the day off, as well?" Your foot keeps tapping as you glance back at the examination room.

Zeke ruffles your hair. "Of course, Kid Wonder. Actually, why don't you take the rest of the week off?" You grin at him as he welcomes your embrace.

Mikasa clasps your right hand in both of hers. Her gray eyes are bright and there’s wrinkles creasing her forehead. "Please let us help. We can take care of it, (Y/N). You don't have to worry about anything." There's something about the connotation that has an alarm bell ringing. Still, Mikasa has always been sincere and well-intentioned.

You pause for a few moments. "I guess. Thanks Mika. But please promise me all of you won't do anything illegal in my stead." You peer into her gray eyes as she nods.

When you scan the rest of the room, your husband, brother-in-law, and three friends all echo a promise that they would ‘deal with Darius in a legal and cautious manner.’

༄༄༄

Later that evening, Mikasa gives you an update in the group chat you have with her, Annie, Petra, and Zeke.

Mika bear💕: Everything is taken care of 😄

Annie Bananie 😘: He backed off after we made sure he really was certified to be a swim instructor

You: Thank you so much my loves! 💕💕💕

You: I hope it didn't take too much time to convince him that it would be inappropriate to talk that way to a physician that cares for his grandparents

Annie Bananie 😘: it really wasn't that much of a hassle (Y/N)

Mika bear 💕: Yeah (Y/N). It honestly didn’t take that much time and was a lot easier than we thought it would be

My Petra petal 🌸: ^^^ don't worry about it hun! Really was our pleasure

Dr. Fuck Nugget ⚡️: ^^

Dr. Fuck Nugget ⚡️: It was actually kind of fun Kid Wonder

Dr. Fuck Nugget ⚡️: one of the rare instances where I got along with Eren and Mikasa

You: That's great! 😄 Honestly I feel as if this all could be avoided if I had just told you guys earlier. Maybe we should have a code word to use if I feel uncomfortable and need help deescalating a situation????

Mika bear💕: bird is in the coop

My Petra petal 🌸: caw caw

Annie Bananie 😘: fucking help me

Annie Bananie 😘: do something about that asshole

Dr. Fuck Nugget ⚡️: villain coming our way

You: …..

You: how about donut? Like you know

You: "do not" leave me alone with this person 😂😂

You: hello??

You begin to stir in your sleep when you feel something prodding your stomach, shoulder, and arm. You're hoping if you ignore it, you can fall back asleep. You feel the blanket being adjusted to your chin as a weight settles on your stomach, and then something pushes in on both of your sides. You try not to think much of it since the guest room is still silent.

Within ten minutes, it's beginning to feel stuffy. You kick off the blanket. When you notice it is drawn up to your chin again, that's when you release a sigh and begin to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

When the grogginess subsides and you see three pairs of eyes staring back at you, you release a terror-stricken yelp. As the light in the room turns on, you hear the thundering of footsteps up the staircase. Your three Cubs freeze in place as you blink owlishly at them. Eliza is still resting on your stomach and Falco and Cyrus are on either side of you, leaning against you.

Falco rubs the back of his neck as he greets, "Hi, Aunt (Y/N). We're sorry. We just missed you. Did we wake you?" You shake your head as you check the door. All the filing cabinets and the dresser are still in place.

"Aunt (Y/N), it was so much fun going on the roof and climbing-," Eliza and Falco clamp their hands over Cyrus's mouth to muffle the last of his words.

Your jaw drops as you examine the window. They closed it properly, but the window screen mesh is lying at the base of the bed. Before you can begin to chastise your Cubs of the dangers of climbing across an icy roof, the barricade you set up gives way as Eren collides with the dresser and two of the filing cabinets.

You jump out of the bed and rush to where your husband landed. He's staring at the ceiling wide-eyed and in silence. "Eren, are you ok?" You note that there doesn't seem to be a loss of consciousness.

As you kneel next to him, he mumbles, "Am I in heaven? God, I always knew my wife was an angel," and he directs his attention to you with a smile. Even when Eren was injured, he was either irritating or corny.

His left hand is resting on your thigh. Both of your hands are clasping his right one. "Eren. You're not dead. Why the hell would you throw yourself into the filing cabinets?" You make another mental note that there's no slurred speech. You then decrease the distance between you two to check his pupil size and see if there are any unusual eye movements. He takes the opportunity of the close proximity to steal a kiss.

Annie, Mikasa, Zeke, and Petra speed into the room and scrutinize your appearance. "(Y/N), are you hurt? We were in the middle of Operation Donut when we heard you scream. Well, not scream, but that’s the loudest decibel we’ve ever heard your voice reach so far.” Mikasa gives you a final once-over before grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into a tight embrace.

When she releases you from her grip, then Petra takes her turn for an embrace. You give them both a kiss on the cheek before you intertwine your fingers with Annie's and give it a reassuring squeeze and link your free arm with Zeke's. As you shake your head, you insist, "Mika, I'm fine. I just got scared by how the kids were in the room with me when I woke up. They decided it was best to access the room through the window. Which is very dangerous and something they should not do again." You look back at your three Cubs, who are trying to avoid your gaze and are fidgeting on the bed.

At least they seem slightly remorseful. You then direct your attention to Eren. At least your husband is now standing and he doesn't look dazed or off balance. "Eren, what happened to you? You decided to dive headfirst into the barricade?" you inquire as you notice blood dripping from his nose.

He shoves Mikasa and Petra aside to stand before you and ignores the stream of curses tumbling from their lips. He then yanks Annie's hand from yours, who also joins the fray of directing insults at your husband. Zeke only withdraws his arm from yours to shove Eren back.

You sigh and step in between them. You tell your three Cubs to meet you downstairs. Unlike the adults in the room, they seem to have more maturity and comply with your wishes.

Eren pulls you into his arms and repeats another string of apologies and how much he loves you. It would be sweet how he's burying his face into the crook of his neck if it weren't for how blood was now smeared all over your hoodie.

"Baby, what the hell does ‘donut’ even mean? As soon as you said it, Annie and Mikasa went fucking feral and kicked me down the motherfucking steps!” He fumes, “Next thing I know, they're parroting ‘donut’ to Zeke and Petra and everyone is kicking the shit out of me! They even used me as fucking battering ram!"

You look quizzically at the four behind you as your husband directs a glare at them.

Annie shrugs before revealing, “Donut means you are uncomfortable and you need help to take care of a problem." She points to Eren who rolls his eyes. "We were in the middle of taking care of the said problem." Zeke, Petra, and Mikasa all nod along with Annie's statement.

You blink a few times before commenting, "Yes, donut is a keyword to mean I feel uneasy. But I wanted you to deescalate the situation.” All of your friends and even your husband are staring at you blankly. “You know, like get Eren to give me some space?" All five of them tilt their head at your words.

"Yeah, that's what we did. You deescalate the situation by minimizing the threat.” All five of them are nodding at Annie’s reasoning. “We were in the middle of taking care of Eren.” She gives you a small smile as Mikasa, Petra, and Zeke have a similar look of glee brightening their eyes.

“But I understand that blood can be difficult to remove from couches and carpeting." Annie squeezes your hand reassuringly before she begins to step forward towards Eren with her fists clenched. "So why don't you head downstairs with the kids and start opening up presents. And we'll finish up with Eren outside." Both settle into defensive stances with their fists balled and arms raised before them.

Once more, you're the only one trying to minimize fighting. You step between the two and they both drop their arms to their sides and relax their posture. “Again, I wanted you all to diffuse the situation. How does beating Eren up qualify as reducing any tension?" You scan the faces of Annie, Zeke, Mikasa, and Petra who show no traces of guilt or remorse. None of them seem remotely apologetic and they're still continuing to stare Eren down.

You pause as you recall how they also used the same exact phrase 'we took care of it' earlier this year after you told them Darius had showed up as your ducklings’ new swim instructor.

Oh god.

"You all promised me that you all wouldn't do anything illegal earlier.” Your eyes widen as you look at the blonde. “Annie, you said that you all just ensured that Darius really was certified to be a swim instructor.”

You take a deep breath and rub the crease between your eyebrows. Exhaling in exasperation, you ask, “Wait, is that why all five of you are banned from all YMCA facilities in the U.S. and in Finland?"

All five of them suddenly find the floor or the ceiling so fascinating.

"Obviously, there is a communication issue. Hopefully, there will be no next time. But, again donut means please diffuse or deescalate the situation without the use of physical force or bodily harm."

This time it's Zeke who speaks up. "Kid Wonder, you stress too much about the little things. We’re still allowed to go to YMCA’s in Sweden.” You give all of them a pointed look and all of them bring out their phones to show you pictures of the scenery in Sweden and the interior and exterior of a few of the facilities they visited there.

“Also, we technically didn't get caught. So if you really want to get into semantics, our actions were not proven to be illegal." Zeke hums as he stares off into space for a few seconds. "Since it makes you that uncomfortable for us to use physical force, we will no longer be throwing anyone off a bridge into a river or conducting blitz attacks.” Your jaw drops to the floor at his last statement and you scan their faces for any hint of remorse.

Zeke continues to muse, "I guess in the future we can just be more descriptive both verbally and visually when we threaten them." All of them, including your husband, nod their heads in agreement at Zeke's words and pat him on the back for coming up with a solution that technically satisfied your conditions.

You later call Marcel to schedule group therapy and both conflict and anger management classes for all five of them.

All of you five and the children have settled down again on the first floor. Only you, Eren, Zeke, Jean, and Annie are currently residing in the living room. They're 'supervising you,' while the rest of the guests are congregating in the kitchen for a 'special surprise.'

You're straddling Eren's lap and leaning in close to him to be able to inspect the alignment of his nose. You check the slope of his nose from a frontal view. Eren has a smug smile as he places his hands on your ass. You roll your eyes as you note that there's a wrinkle between his brows that confirms the alignment of his nose is off. His hands still haven't moved as you tilt his head to the side to observe the outline of his nose. It's crooked and it looks as if the cartilage has shifted to the left.

Eren seems preoccupied with squeezing your ass while you position your thumbs on either side of his nose.

"Eren, can you relax your jaw?” You observe the outline of his nose one last time. “Actually, just keep it tight and keep your lips closed. Fingers crossed that I can get this fixed in one go."

You hum in thought as you give it another once over.

One shift might be an underestimation. You ponder if it might take three to five readjustments.

"Mmhmm, baby. My jaw would be more relaxed if it was between your thighs. You do keep it tight after-"

Your husband's words are cut off and replaced with a stream of curses as you suddenly apply pressure to the cartilage of his nose. "Baby, maybe a little warning next time! That fucking hurt.” His nose now appears less crooked, yet it still is slightly deviated from the midline.

You give him a peck on the lips so he will stop pouting at you. "Eren, I'm going to shift your nose again to see if I can realign it to the normal midline position.” He nods as again his attention is now focused on his hands rising up your hoodie.

He lets out a groan when you begin to shift in his lap after one of his hands slips under your bra and begins to tug at the erect bud between his fingertips. Well, whatever gets him to hold still. “Eren. Again, please keep your jaw tight." Your thumbs move a little higher to where you can feel the bone. "Does it hurt when I apply some pressure here?" After he mumbles no, you then squeeze the bone and hear a satisfying crack.

"Motherfucker!" your husband bellows while scrunching his eyes shut. You're pleased with yourself that you were able to correct the alignment of his nose after two shifts.

Eren sighs before placing a quick peck on your cheek. "Since you put me through so much physical pain today, does that mean I get a little treat later today between your thighs?” You cock an eyebrow as you feel his fingers have now shifted their attention to playing with the waistband of your sweatpants. “There's not really anything else I want to eat that's sweeter than you, beautiful." Zeke, Annie, and Jean audibly gag in the background and you roll your eyes at Eren's words. You confirm that Eren does not feel nauseous, dizzy, off-balance and that his vision feels normal.

You're about to slide off his lap, but Eren encircles his arms around your waist and rests his head against your collarbone. It tickles as he murmurs against your skin, "I really am sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean anything I said when you came back from California. Baby, I know I have been repeating myself a lot lately. I know I’ve been doing a shitty job lately of showing you how much I love you.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and tap your fingers on the recliner. “Still, I really do mean every apology and every promise,” he asserts. “I'm going to be better for you and Eliza. I promise that I will be better at showing you how important you are to me. I'm going to be better at proving to you that I love you and that I fall more and more in love with you every day." You lean your forehead against Eren's, and again, there appears to be that lackluster green color in his eyes reflecting back at you.

Eren's hands drift lower and you release a sigh of disapproval. "Oh come on, beautiful. I really missed you these past couple weeks. I'm just being appreciative of everything you give me." He places a few pecks on your cheeks, then one on your nose, before connecting his lips with yours.

He pulls away only after Jean and Zeke protest that Eren needs to stop defiling you and he needs to be better at keeping it PG since there are three kids in the house.

You reposition yourself so your legs are to the side of Eren's lap and your head is resting against his chest. He plants another kiss on the crown of your head. He lies his chin on the top of your head and tightens his embrace.

“I love you, (Y/N). We still have Eliza. And we can always try again for another baby when you're ready.” He reiterates, “I meant it when I told you earlier that time heals all wounds. Everything happens for a reason and we're going to be ok."

Even in Eren's embrace, you feel cold.

You know that Eren meant well. You understand he was trying to console you with his assertions that ‘time heals all wounds’ and ‘everything happens for a reason.’ But his rationale that already having Eliza and having another baby later would make everything fine chilled you to the bone.

There's a term called the psychological immune system that encompasses a number of biases and cognitive mechanisms to protect your emotional health whenever you experience strong negative emotions, such as stress and anxiety. Researchers have found that people tend to overestimate the intensity and the length that they will be unhappy after the experience of a negative event.

Your psychological immune system helps make sense of those adverse events in a self-protective manner. It protects us from experiencing extreme negative emotions by helping us focus on other positive events to facilitate the return of positive emotions.

There are contradictions in cliches, and yet we're still drawn to them, especially when we're stressed or anxious. We're drawn to platitudes since humans are evolutionarily hardwired to respond more strongly and intensely to negative experiences than positive ones. We use these stale statements as a coping mechanism.

We need to feel good enough to get out of bed and move on with our life. And we do that by rationalizing away a hurtful moment until it dulls to a sting.

Eren has just made himself feel better emotionally with the platitudes, ‘Time will heal all wounds’ and ‘Everything happens for a reason.’ His psychological immune system has kicked in to adapt in a way that less strongly impacts his emotions. It's a defense mechanism that was unconsciously activated to make Eren happier. It was one of his unconscious defense mechanisms that made sense of your miscarriage with the reassurance that another baby will fix everything and that you two already have another child.

Our brains are also evolutionary-hardwired to seek patterns and detect cause and effect. Being able to determine cause and effect was how our ancestors interpreted the actions of predators and how they were able to benefit from cooperation as social animals. Though sometimes we seek patterns too aggressively.

It's a common and natural human response to state that "everything happens for a reason." We want to believe there's a greater good for the troubles we face, that there's a valuable lesson we learn or some higher purpose we will later achieve as a result of our misfortunate experiences. It's reassuring.

It's reassuring to think that there's a reason for any unbearable experience or tremendous loss. It's comforting to be able to make sense of the pain we feel and it helps us gain a sense of control of the messiness of life.

The issue with Eren telling you that ‘everything happens for a reason’ is that it implies that you need to be patient for some universal payoff for the pain you experience. It was necessary for him to rationalize your miscarriage as something that would yield a greater good or purpose in the future.

Still, sometimes it really just is randomness and sheer banality of chance where you might perceive cause and effect to be. The world is filled with uncorrelated factors and events.

Sometimes, you just can't explain why something bad happened to you. Sometimes, there's not really any reason that justifies your suffering.

The problem with him telling you, ‘everything happens for a reason’ is that sometimes, shit just happens and something better won't always come your way.

Your misfortunes, your suffering, your losses, and your experiences with the messiness of life and sheer banality of chance shouldn't have to have a reward down the line for your pain to be valid.

Your suffering shouldn't have to be comprehensible or have some plausible explanation for why that horrible circumstance happened to you just to validate your pain and your grief and your frustration and your anger.

The problem with him telling you "time heals all wounds" is the suggestion that there's some magical time frame- whether it's a period of days, weeks, months- that you should have recovered and your grief and loss should be assuaged.

But you can't put a deadline on when you recover from grief and loss.

Time may make things easier.

Time doesn't make everything ok.

Time has made it easier to hide your grief over both the loss of your child and the love of your partner from everyone. And there’s not a greater purpose or some reward down the line that will justify your grief.

Sometimes, you can't fall back on platitudes to overcome and move forward from things in life.

Sometimes, there are things in life that can only be carried.

A/N: finally got my invite to AO3. I have the same username on there. At the risk of being murdered, Kung Fu Tea is one of my go to boba places alongside GongCha and Sunrise Tea Studio. Usually will get a brown sugar boba milk tea or a Thai tea with boba. Sometimes mango green tea. What’s your go-to boba order?

Taglist: @pichara @izukine @emepe @rein4r1 @ihatelettuce @wakatvshi @bbylime @rubesque @lukepattersin @didiyogo @unicornlover25 @6sakusa @littlemochi @trumpettay @educationalandphysicalmess @deadflowerd

P.S. only two more chapters left for winter. They’ll be flashbacks of what happened a few weeks prior to the birthday party. Then Fall will pick up after this chapter. Again thank you so much for giving my story a chance and for all your kind comments 💕

[leoswritingcorner]

something that popped in my mind and i had to write. no editing, no thoughts, just words

The chainsaw thuds heavily on the table, but Solana is careful not to knock over the drinks.

“They got the orders right?” Solana asks, peering into the paper bag closest to her as she slips into the booth. Will plucks it away quickly, swapping it with another bag.

“For once,” They answer, digging out the food. Dev and Annie had already began to dig into their own meals. “Who has the hot sauce?” Will asks, looking back to them.

Solana bites into the chalupa, the flavor barely hitting her tongue before her phone chimes. Her eyes glance down to the phone to see Brit’s picture, the one with her really pissed and flipping off the camera, flashing over the screen. Solana rubs her hand over her pants and hits the answer button and places the call on speaker

“Hey, mami” Solana greets, around a bite. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Brit asks steadily. Solana slows her chewing. That’s never a good tone for Brit to have.

“Uh, Taco Bell.” Solana responds, pulling the phone closer. “The kids were hungry, and I had coupons that were gonna expire and-“

“Oh, isn’t that nice?” Brit cuts in, “are you enjoying your Taco Bell?”

“I was,”

“Cause I’m going to send you to taco HELL,” Brit snarls loudly. Her voice echoing through the restaurant. Dev, Will and Annie all share a look and grin.

Solana takes her off speaker and puts the phone to her ear, clearing her throat. “I’m sensing that I’ve screwed up something somehow,” She remarks calmly, scratching her neck.

“Why aren’t you here?” Brit demands. Solana can hear something faint in the background. Distant but piercing.

“I don’t…” Solana starts, but her lips pull into an O shape when realization hits her. “That was today?! No! We said tomorrow!”

There’s a shuffle over the phone. Brit swears colorfully before Hanna’s calm voice speaks.

“We changed it to today, Solana.” Hanna answers.

“Since when?” Solana says, she looks at her chalupa and dares a small and careful bite.

Hanna sighs deeply. “I sent you a message,”

Solana quickly pulls her phone away and checks through her texts. “You didn’t send me anything on my phone”

There’s a loud bang, and there’s no mistaking a gunshot. Solana cringes. “You’d be correct because I sent you the message on the burner.” Hanna states. It’s not hard to miss her patience edging to its end.

Solana looks to the Trio as they watched her, still grinning.

‘You’re soooo busted’ Annie mouths, before sipping on her soda.

Solana waves her off and turns away. “But you said-“ she cuts herself off, “you know what? My bad. I’m coming,”

“Thank you,” Hanna says

“Hurry your ass up!” Brit snaps at the same time.

Solana sighs, yanking her chain saw up, strapping it to her back. Looking back to the three, she gives them a look. “I’ll be back in an hour…tops. Try not to kill anyone?”

“No such promises,” Dev supplies

“I figured,” Solana shakes her head, storming out

[pinkfey]

9 or 47 for your current fave?

47. crave + audra wiseman.

setting: post-mind blind. audra/kent-centric. the second half of an incomplete fic which was literally just a few thousand words about window shopping.

Audra came to a lazy halt in front of a store window, pursing her lips to admire the display inside. Kent noticed her absence and swung back around to stand behind her, snaking his arms around her waist. Her hands trailed up to absently stroke the back of his palm as she murmured something about how cold he is. He leaned to rest his chin on top of her head. Today her heels were not high enough for him to do so comfortably, but it wasn’t about being comfortable. The crook in his neck later would be worth it.

The simple window had a wide heart-shaped decal in its epicenter, drawing eyes towards a display case of several tiers, dozens of tiny pastel cakes in each. Each cake seemed to be fruit themed and decorated with dainty piping, fluffy frosting, and doily-patterned hearts. Of course Audra had stopped to stare. She was a walking Valentine’s Day card; how could she resist?

Kent turned to look at Annie and Cass, pressing his cheek to Audra’s hair. His beloved dogs watched him with innocent expectation, their tails wagging eagerly. In their minds, they had been out long enough for a treat. It took every inch of willpower not to give in.

The snap of a shutter brought his attention back to Audra, who had just taken a photo of the display case. Kent peeked over her shoulder as she zoomed in on the true focal point of the photo: their reflection in the heart.

Kent smiled. Corny. He pressed his lips close to her ear and his voice was soft. “Send me that one?”

Audra hummed her agreement, too distracted by her photo to bother with words. Kent wondered if she would always look at him so lovestruck or if this was simply a very very long honeymoon phase. Knowing her, he hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Audra disentangled his arms from her but took one of his hands in her own, interlocking their fingers as she twisted to face him, that mischievous glint in her eye. Uh oh.

She looked at him.

He raised a brow.

She looked at him more.

He leveled his gaze to the bakery window, then back to Audra, who was fighting a losing battle against her own smile. He let out a breath. “Would you like a cake?”

“Maaaaaaaybe…” Audra twirled a curly lock of hair, but seeing that this wasn’t working, she switched tactics. She quickly composed herself before widening her eyes and drawing her brows together. “Please? Double please, my beautiful boyfriend? Triple please, my sickeningly sweet cinnamon toaster strudel? Quadruple pretty please with a button on top?”

“You know I have two dogs, right?” He tried to sound neutral but the smile curling the corners of his lips betrayed him. “Puppy eyes won’t work.”

Audra broke out in that winning grin of hers, biting her lip in what Kent thought was the poorest attempt to conceal her glee. Her gap tooth even made an appearance. Cute.

Kent gave in. He released her hand and handed her Cass’ leash. He dug around for his wallet as he headed for the door. “What flavor?”

“Surprise me.”

“Not coming with?”

“No, no, I have to make everyone on Instagram super extra jealous of my boyfriend with this photo. Besides, it’s just a craving.” Audra said her next words as if she were a paragon of innocence, her golden hair a halo to prove it. “You know how to satisfy me, don’t you?”

Dear god…

Kent stared at her just a second too long, then let out a single scoff of a laugh. “Audra Wiseman…” he muttered.

She shot him a knowing smile before he turned around. He’d get back at her. Later.

A bell above the door let out a soft ding! as Kent stepped inside and warm flushed his icy skin. The bakery was small and quaint—black and white tiled floors, metal chairs with wiry heart-shaped backs, French moulding accompanied by soft blue accents; exactly the kind of place Audra would regret not entering. Kent decided it was a decent spot to take her on another day.

Approaching the counter, his senses were flooded by the smell of… Chocolate? Batter? Whatever it was, it was sweet, sugary, and exactly what Audra wanted.

The lady behind the counter, after hearing Kent’s plight, was kind enough to set out a selection of three small cakes for him to choose from. Each were heart-shaped and about four inches in length. The first was powdery and lemon-themed, the second was pink with a dollop of icing lobbed on top, and Kent quickly decided that neither of them were good enough when saw the third: a rich red, chocolate inside, with delicate white frosting lacing the heart shape. Perfect.

When Kent returned to Audra boxed cake in hand, he found her bent down towards Annie and Cass, cooing, kissing, and making various other embarrassingly adorable noises. Yet she stood up straight without any shame and grinned.

“Whatcha get?” she asked, brimming with excitement.

Kent handed her the box without pomp, which she giddily traded her purse for. Kent readjusted the strap as she greedily dug in, letting out a soft gasp at its contents.

“Kent, it’s so pretty,” she marveled. “Thank you so much, I…”

Kent was basking in the small kernel of pride at finding something she liked—until she looked up at him with utter sorrow. “Oh no. I can’t eat it. Oh my god.”

Kent froze, suppressed the tiniest bit of panic that he may have done something wrong. “Uh—“

“They didn’t give me a fork.”

Kent stopped short—first shocked, then relieved. Audra said this with the kind of devastation one has upon hearing their loved one just died. She looked down at the cake with a pout, almost as if she was about to cry. “This hurts,” she said with deadpan finality. “I’m suing.”

Kent closed the cake box and covered her hands with his own. “It’s the end of the world.” He rubbed her thumb with his own. “Home, then?”

Audra groaned as they began walking back. Annie and Cass trotted along ahead of them, oblivious to her woe. “Can’t I be charmingly theatrical for a few more minutes?”

He smirked. “You’re asking this time?”

She hissed. “Ouch, Zarneki! Keep it up and I might think you want me.”

Kent turned to walk backwards and face her. He gave her a look, a suggestive smile, a tilt of the head, then turned back around.

Audra scoffed. “Oh, you’re lucky you’re cute, you know.”

He knew.

At home, Audra sat curled on the couch and took careful, savory bites of her cake as she watched another atrocious episode of Love Island. Kent let her choose what to watch, of course, as he always did, while he himself deigned to read a book detailing the history a Roman statesman—a gift from Audra bought straight from his wishlist. He with his head against her lap, one hand on his book, the other pressed between her thigh and the couch; Audra’s duty was to keep him warm. For every three bites of cake, Audra fed him one.

A few minutes in, Audra peered over at his page. “Cicero? Like from Skyrim?”

Kent blinked. “No…” he said slowly. “Marcus Tullius Cicero. From, uh, history.”

Audra nodded sagely. “Like General Tullius. Also from Skyrim.”

Kent pulled his hand out from under her thigh and sat up straight, staring at her incredulously as she took another happy bite. The greatest thing about Audra Wiseman was her confidence, rivaled only by her humor. She was straightforward, never confused him, shouldered the hard parts of socializing so he could breathe. She was his favorite person, she never ceased to amaze…

And she just said the worst series of sentences he’d ever heard.

Audra glanced over. “Something wrong?”

“Audra.” Kent wiped frosting from her mouth with his thumb and brought it to his lips. “Never leave.”

[kai-uh-arcadian]

Ackersmith Cafe 

Pieck x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k Cw: minor cursing Disclaimer! This is my first story/fic/head canon type thing ever, so feedback is much appreciated! ( :

enjoy!

* Lots of wholesome fluff ( : <3 *

Ships involved: Pieck x Reader, Hitchani, Eruri, Yumihisu,  Implied EreMika, Implied Niccolo x Sasha

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⁃ Ackersmith cafe, a quaint, dark academia type coffee shop

⁃ Leading local competitor “mom and pop shop” of the Shiganshina county against Starbucks, Dunkin’ Donuts and Bakers Dozen

⁃ Used to be called “Smith Cafe” owned Grandma and Grandpa Smith before Mr. Erwin took over and married Mr.Levi

⁃ You and your parents have been going here since you could remember! Even before Mr.Erwin won his battle against cancer but lost his arm

⁃ Even though you’re in college now, it’s still walking distance from Paradis University and the neighbor university—Liberio University

⁃ You introduced your college friends, Sasha, Mikasa, and Annie to this place

⁃ You go here almost everyday to study and do uni homework

⁃ “Mr. Erwin!” You announced every time you walk in with Annie, Sasha, and Mikasa as the bells of the cafe ring

⁃ “(Y/nnnnnnn!)” he says waving his bionic arm that Hange, the other barista, made for him

⁃ (Hange chooses to work here every other weekend as a way to “relax” from their researching job, crazy right?)

⁃ “Hey twerp, when did you get so tall?”Mr. Levi flashes a smile from behind the counter, remembering you getting hoisted up on your dads shoulder while ordering a hot chocolate from when he was a trainee here a few years ago

⁃ “Mr. Levi, it’s been years since I was your height” you chuckle glancing at Mikasa, Sasha, and Annie stifling back a laugh at they witness this interaction

⁃ “Tch. You brats, I’ll kick you out any second!” he jokingly gets defensive

⁃ “Levi” Mr. Erwin puts a hand on the small of Mr. Levi’s back “Be nice to my favourite and most important customers! You’ll drive out our daily revenue” he laughs

⁃ “Yeah yeah whatever. The usual, brats?” Mr. Levi rolls his eyes holding back a soft smile

⁃ “Yep!” You all say in unison

⁃ “Should’ve guessed” as his rings up your guys’ total “I’ll bring it right out for you guys” he says before disappearing into the brewing station

⁃ You, Sasha, Mikasa, and Annie go to your usual booth right by the front window of the cafe

⁃ You 4 begin to pull out your computers and begin to do homework

⁃ Sasha and Mikasa are typing away on a shared Google Slide for a project they were both assigned to for their ENGL 2273 class they both happened to have together while you and Annie are looking out the window dozing off

⁃ “(Y/N),” Mikasa says grabbing your attention “Do your work.”

⁃ “Alright alright” you begin opening up a blackboard assignment your Professor assigned to you

⁃ “Slacking off again (L/N)?” Mr. Levi’s voice startles you as you look up

⁃ “No!” You shyly smile at him as you pretend to type away at the assignment

⁃ “Tch. Anyways, a white chocolate mocha latte with a glazed donut for you Annie, a hot, unsweetened, caramel latte for you Mikasa, a bacon, egg, and cheese croissant with a cinnamon dolce frappe for you Sasha, and a matcha frappe for you (Y/N). Anything else brats?” He smiles as he hands everything to you guys

⁃ “No thank you!” You say in unison once again before he nods and walks away

⁃ As you sip on your delectable drink, Annie’s face lights up and it’s not from the donut (this time)

⁃ “Eh? Annie, what’s got you smiling?” Sasha says nervously chewing on her croissant at Annie’s surprised face

⁃ “Oh.” Annie’s face goes back to the typical stoic look “nothing, it’s just I know those people about to walk in” she gestures to a tall, muscular blonde man, a tall, brunette who is visibly sweating, a dirty blonde man with an undercut, and breathtaking black haired women with languid eyes and a perpetual soft smile

⁃ “Huh? How?” Mikasa looks up from her work and towards the girl sitting to her left shoulder, peeking a glance at the group about to walk in

⁃ “Eh, I went to Marley high school with them. I had a few classes with each of them throughout the years but never really interacted too much. They aren’t mean or anything— I just recognize them. I think they go to Liberio university” she says taking another bite of her donut

⁃ “Her names Pieck Finger” Annie said with a mouth full of donut directly at you “I’m guessing you were wondering” she smirks

⁃ Your face heats up. Did Annie notice you were staring at her?! Oh no… if Annie noticed… did this mean that Pieck girl also notice?!”

⁃ “No no” you laughed it off, “I wasn’t wondering I was just staring off into space!!”

⁃ This earns a chuckle out of Mikasa, she read you like a book

⁃ The Liberio squad orders as your little Paradis squad begins to pack up after being there for about hour and a half

⁃ “Annie?” The muscular blonde says from a few tables over

⁃ Annie lights up a bit at the seemingly familiar voice coming from behind her

⁃ “Reiner?” Annie walks over to the table as you, Mikasa, and Sasha continue to pack up

⁃ “Oh! These are my friends (Y/N), Mikasa, and Sasha. We usually come here almost everyday” annie says as each of you light up at the sound of your name

⁃ “Nice to meet you all! This is Bertolt, Porco, Pieck, and I’m Reiner”

You 4 wave to the Liberio 4 and you make direct eye contact with Pieck, she smiles softly at you

⁃ “It was nice seeing you all again, we were just on our way out” Annie waves to the group

⁃ “It was nice meeting you!” You, Mikasa, and Sasha say in unison

⁃ You made eye contact with Pieck once again before exiting

The next day

⁃ you text the group chat during your last class of the day “Ackersmiths?

⁃ Annie replies “Hitch nagged at me this morning claiming she deserves more attention so I'm taking her on a date tonight. ”

⁃ Mikasa replies “I’m being forced to meet Niccolo today😐”

⁃ “Okay so you all hate me😩I’ll go alone” you respond to the group chat

⁃ “Yeah that’s exactly what we mean (Y/N)😪😪😪” Sasha replies

⁃ “Yeah whatever.😫 I’ll be over later tonight and bring you guys your usuals if you want” you reply

⁃ “You’re a saint!🛐” Sasha says

⁃ “Sasha’s dorm as usual? I’ll be there around 8 o’clock” Annie says

⁃ “Perfect, I’ll see you guys then, i know you guys love me🥰🥰🥰🥰” you sent the text and began walking to Ackersmith’s

⁃ you walk in and greet Mr.Levi and Mr.Erwin like always “Mr. Leviiiiii! Mr. Erwin!!! It’s your favourite customer!”

⁃ “Oh? I didn’t see Sasha walk in though?” Erwin banters back as you walk towards the counter

⁃ “Yeah yeah, be glad or else you wouldn’t have any pastries left to sell today” you laugh “could I get the usual please?”

⁃ “Of course! I’ll have Levi bring it out to you in a second” Erwin beams and heads towards the machines

⁃ You begin to head to the table usually sit at when you aren’t accompanied by your usual gang but it seems to be taken

⁃ “Grandpa Arlert!?” You exclaim

⁃ Distracted by your excitement, that ethereal black haired Pieck, walks in and sits at a table closest to the entrance by the window. She instantly notices you chatting with (in her eyes) a random sweet old man

⁃ “(Y/N)!” He begins to get up

⁃ “How’s Armin doing? I haven’t heard much from him while he’s been in France but Mikasa tells me so much, maybe too much,  about Eren’s studies abroad”

⁃ “He’s doing well, I miss seeing you 4 all the time. I’m about to be on my way but come see me anytime kiddo” he pats you on the head

⁃ “I’ll come by this weekend okay Grandpa Arlert?” He nods as you sit down and pull out your computer

⁃ Pieck is gazing out the window but every now and then she glances at you. She can’t help but find you adorable when you focus on something— you furrow your brows a bit, squint, and bite your bottom lip

⁃ As Pieck is totally engrossed in your cute little studying quirks, she quickly averts her eyes and your head snaps in her direction as the entrance bells chimes and a couple walks in

⁃ You focus on the couple as the blonde one in a flowy pink dress pushes the stroller to nearby table and the taller brunette one in slacks and a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow goes to order (for the blonde one as well, you assume)

⁃ The gears in your head are shifting as you begin to figure out who the hell that couple could be as they are SO familiar to you

⁃ Then. A lightbulb! “Historia?!” You say to the women about three empty small tables away

⁃ (It’s a local favourite, how could you not see people you know here?)

⁃ (Y/N)?! You get up and start walking over to Historia’s table accompanied by a stroller

⁃ (Y/N)? The tall brunette walks over with a strawberry pastry and a plain croissant

⁃ “Ahh, Ymir!” You exclaim embracing her

⁃ “And who might this little one be?” You question while lovingly waving to inside the stroller which held a baby with dark hair, freckles, and bright blue eyes

⁃ Somehow(?) a perfect mix of Ymir and Historia

⁃ “This is baby Freida” (after her late sister) Historia grabs the about 7-month baby girl and gives her a kiss on her chubby cheek

⁃ “Sooo this is what you’ve guys have been doing since we left high school. I always wondered where you guys took off! You both completely went AWOL “ you chuckle while holding your index finger out as baby Freida grasps it

⁃ “Yeah, after high school I decided to take a gap year and Historia decided to become a CNA, I’m working on my realtor license” Ymir says taking a chomp out of the croissant

⁃ “I’m so happy for you guys! Seeing you guys and plus this cute little one just made my day. Could I hold her?” Your eyes looks as if they’ve been possessed by literal stars

⁃ “Of course!” Historia gingerly hands you baby Frieda and to your surprise, little Frieda giggles while you rub your cheek to the baby’s chubby one smiling

⁃ While this interaction is happening, Pieck has her eyes GLUED to you

⁃ Her heart is bursting at the seams right now. From seeing you interact with the sweet old man you refer to as Grandpa Arlert to you holding a cute ass child AH! Her heart IS exploding

⁃ It’s like she’s emitting a pink aura out of her body and little hearts are circling her as well

⁃ You hand baby Frieda back “it was nice chatting with you guys, text me if you guys are ever back in town!” And with that you retreat back to your original spot

⁃ Hyper focused on what you’re supposed to be doing on your screen you’re interrupted by Levi’s booming voice

⁃ “Hey brat, sorry it took so long. The blender got jammed, probably from all the stupid ice it took to make your dumb frappe”

⁃ “Also, you’re probably too oblivious to notice but, don’t look now, there’s a dark haired girl by the window who has been making googly eyes at you the moment she walked in”

⁃ (WINGMAN LEVI?!?!?!)

⁃ You nonchalantly glide your eyes over to where he was talking about and he referring to Pieck

⁃ THE PIECK FINGER from yesterday

⁃ Your face turns red as you grab the drink from Mr.Levi and begin to stutter

⁃ “I— uh-“

⁃ “Don’t think I didn’t notice your little interaction yesterday” he scoffs hiding a smirk

⁃ …is he referring to me staring at Pieck from the window????

⁃ (That sounds creepy but in an innocent young teen/adult puppy love way)

⁃ “If you’d like, I can send a drink over from you. She ordered the weirdest frappe-combo-shit yesterday so I remember it. It was a matcha frappe with strawberry purée and strawberry drizzle with matcha dusted on top of the whip cream…” he scoffed “but what do I know? I’m just an old married man”

⁃ WINGMAN MR. LEVI!!!!!!

⁃ “Yes! That would be perfect, I trust your gut Mr.Levi!” You hand him your card and he smiles as he begins to walk away

⁃ At this point you’re nervous. Yes you’re looking at your computer but you CANNOT think about anything else but how Pieck will react

⁃ Does she have a boyfriend? That (stupid) undercut guy?

- The tall sweaty guy?

⁃ Or maybe the muscular guy

⁃ No no, she looks too smart to date a meathead

- She seems too outgoing to date a super nervous guy

⁃ Or a seemingly fuckboy

⁃ But who am I to judge her preference?

-Is she even gay?

- She probably has a girlfri--

⁃ “Thank you for the drink” a sweet voice danced in between your clouded thoughts

⁃ You look up and you meet eyes with the one and only, Pieck

⁃ “May I sit here?” She gestures at the empty seat in front of you

⁃ (Mr. Levi’s plan worked?)

⁃ “Of course!” You shyly smile rubbing the back on your nape

⁃ “Your names (Y/N), right?” She took a sip of the drink

⁃ “Hmm.. Doing a bit of stalking I see. How’d you know my exotic drink of choice?” Those heavy words came out so smoothly you could barely react to the accusation

⁃ “Oh! Uh— no it’s not that” you instantly became flustered

⁃ The laugh she let out was so beautiful that it made you stop in your tracks

⁃ A bit of the puree was on her lips, which made them glossy and her head tilted back which let her flowy silky black hair waterfall off her shoulder

⁃ A bit of confidence shot through you

⁃ “Actually, a little birdy told ME that you were the one “stalking” and they decided I should do something to get your attention” you raised an eyebrow

⁃ Pieck’s angelic laughter came to an instant halt and her face become the same colour of the little bit of strawberry purée on her bottom lip

⁃ Now YOU were the one giggling at her reaction

⁃ “Don’t worry don’t worry! You waved your hands in a surrendering motion “in all honestly Mr. Levi said he saw you looking at me today and remembered your ..interesting.. drink from yesterday and also remembered about how I was looking at you when you walked in with your friends and suggested I send a drink over to you” you reassured

⁃ Oh shit

⁃ She giggled at how red your face got after realized what you had just told her

⁃ “Well if you’re going to be honest I will too, I thought you were the cutest thing yesterday. Today really solidified that thought because I mayyyy… have noticed you with that cute little baby” she gave you a languid smile fiddling with her hair nervously

⁃ Taken a bit aback from this

⁃ Are you hearing this correctly???

⁃ “Could I possibly get your number? Maybe later this week we could go on a proper date or something?”

⁃ “I’d love nothing more than that, (Y/N) she gives to the sweetest most genuine smiles there can be

After you exchanged phone numbers, you and Pieck spent about 2 more hours there talking about everything and yet nothing at the same time. You both shared pointless stories about each other’s upbringing, majors, fun stories about your mutual friend Annie, your own friends, and little sarcastic shots at one another here and there before walking her back to her dorm at Liberio University (about a 30 minute walk back to Paradis University)

She thanked you for the fun night by giving you a small peck on the cheek.

When you both returned to your assigned dorms

Pieck spent the night fangirling about you to Porco, Reiner, and a 4th year named Zeke

While you spent your night fangirling to Annie, Sasha, and Mikasa

“Oh (Y/N)!? Speaking about great things you find at the cafe, where’s the drinks? ” Sasha asked after your little spiel about Pieck

“Shit!”

Ackersmith Cafe has always held a special place in your heart but the love you’ve had for the place just got deeper.

sorry if the ending sucks but lmk your thoughts!!!!!! (:

- Kyah