#iii. ( family ) — julie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neesieiumz · 9 months

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𓆩☆𓆪 | 𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙸𝙲𝙴𝚁 ⸺ ⚞ 𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽 𝙹𝙰𝙴𝙶𝙴𝚁 ⚟

⸻ synopsis ⫸ despite working together for a long time, eren and yourself cannot be in a room together, too bad the two of you are stuck at the office late at night.

⸻ warnings ⫸ sm*t. minors do not interact. p*rn with plot. part iii of the gold rush anthology. frenemies. coworkers. secretary!reader. officer!eren. eren calls you angel in this. slight-pervert!eren. erwin is your boss. female reader. afab reader. black-coded reader. reciprocal jealousy. mikasa and connie are in this but have no major significance. slight hate sex. storage room sex. mating-press position, regular and reverse cow-girl position. eren and reader are both in their early twenties as well. hickeys. you may or may not get pinned to the floor. they fight a lot for dominance as well.

⸻ writer's notes ⫸ currently my second longest fic to date, nothing has yet to top my choso one but yeah, yeah I know… this is late asf… I made the last part in may and it's currently july...but in my defense, I was dealing with bad Miguel brainrot! But hope you enjoy this, and to that Anon… HERE! Damn 😭 next is Jean, Armin and finally Zeke!

⸻ word count ⫸ 7.4k

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A change in life, a change in pace was what your mother called it the moment you had moved out here.

It was completely different from what you were expecting of course. "Being born with a silver spoon in their mouth," is what many would have called you. Your father was a rich man from the city, and so you had once wanted for naught, believing every single word that fell from your father’s mouth. Surrounded by the shiny things, expensive items, balls, and parties, the “oohs and wows” of your friends. You believed that your life would continue down that familiar, wealthy path you believed your father had laid out for you.

At least that’s what you thought until you suddenly found yourself being whisked away by your mother in the middle of the night, bags barely packed. She was hysterical, unable to say full words to you as she basically shoved you into a carriage along with your bags. Sixteen, and dressed in a barely thin nightgown, the night was cold, the wind blowing very harshly as The two of you rode into the heavenly midnight. Your body, still heavy with sleep, could barely keep up with the hysterical babblings your mother was making. She wouldn't answer all your questions, all you knew before sleep overtook you once more, was something about your father.

Later, you learned your father had effectively abandoned the two of you, moving his new, younger family into the place you had once called home.

Your mother’s family was once from the country, a decent-sized farm town called Paradisia. They all moved to the city when your grandfather struck gold and became a very rich man. Unfortunately, he was also a fervent gambler and drinker and effectively had given and drank away the money he was supposed to use to sustain his family. It caused your mother to be pushed into your father’s arms and yet, all it did was bring back to the place she was born, but a place she never knew. Soon that’s where you found yourself, in the house her family had left behind. The two of you didn't adjust well, your father had paralyzed the two of you, made you used to having your every mood and need to be picked apart and waited on by others.

It was hard, and your mother's accident didn't make things better. Someone, who we later learned was someone who had a rise against your grandfather, still remembering your mother after all these years. They had pushed her into the road, just as a horse was racing through the path. Everyone said she was lucky to have lived after such a tragedy. She, however, was bedridden, and all the housework, along with bills and other things that needed to be paid soon fell on you.

You needed a job, and you were lucky to have met Erwin, the town’s sheriff, who was also the responding officer to follow up after your mother’s brush stroke with death. He needed a secretary for the sheriff’s office, someone to file papers and file out extra reports, to conduct budget plans and present them to the mayor. Luckily, you were decent with papers and organization, for the most part, everything else you learned on the go. It was good pay, amazing pay even, just enough to get the fancy medicines from the pharmacy for your mother’s chronic back pain as well as pay all the bills. It was a win-win, and most of your co-workers, officers working underneath Erwin as well, were very nice to you, most of them at least.

You pushed open the door, walking into the almost bare office. It had been like this for a matter of weeks, this town was not very much riddled with crime. However, the recent bandits and break-ins have put everyone on edge. Many of the officers were mostly out on patrol, as the recent bandit problem became a top and main priority for the town. There were only a few around, walking around papers in hand, possibly discussing one of many cases happening around the town. You waved and greeted a few, as you made your way to your desk right near the front door.

“Only five minutes late angel… a new record.”

You nearly stopped in your tracks, pushing down the red-hot feeling of annoyance that rose the moment you heard his voice. Glancing over, you made eye contact with deep olive-green eyes gleaming with a jeering look. He was leaning back against his desk, legs raised up, wearing the same uniform many of the officers wore during their shifts. His hair was pulled back in its usual bun, hands clasped together on his stomach as he eyed you, watching you swing yourself around into your chair and desk, lacing your bag right beside you on the floor.

You sighed, pushing yourself underneath the desk, “shut up Jaeger, no one asked for your opinion.”

“Lucky Erwin isn’t in right now, he’d be disappointed that you were late again.”

“Just like he was disappointed when he found out I did the Kirstein report instead of you? Oh yeah, real disappointed.” You mused, sending a small smirk over to him.

He rolled his eyes, “yeah whatever, laugh it up.” he mumbled out, “got me stuck on this desk for the next week that’s for sure.”

You rolled your eyes, still unable to hold back your smirk, “should have actually done the report then Jaeger.”

You could hear him mumble under his breath but he soon quieted down, allowing you to focus on the piles of papers Erwin and other officers around must have put on your desk for you to continue working on. The silence rang in your ears but it was nothing you weren’t used to by now, usually the office was bustling with different walks of people, people with complaints, and petty drama that entails the slow life of the country. Neighborly feuds, and whatnot, but now it was empty, everyone putting their efforts out there—

“How do you even do this?”

Your thoughts were soon cut by that familiar deep voice, inhaling sharply as your eyes turned towards him. He was no longer leaning back, instead, a paper in his hands lifted towards the light illuminating the open windows.

“Jaeger. Shut up.”

He leaned back up, narrowing his eyes at you, “How are you even able to do all of this? How many of these do you even do in a day?”

You sighed, lifting your head back up to fully look at him, “way more than yours Jaeger, now get to it.”

He groaned again, before focusing on the papers once more, as well as picking up his pen. You couldn’t lie, the pile of your work on your desk definitely felt thinner than usual, glancing over at the struggling cop currently typing letter-by-letter whilst glancing at a packet of sheets on his desk.

As you worked, your mind faded, paying attention to your work but your mind also ran through errands you needed to complete either today or sometimes this week. Picking up mom’s medicine, there’s been a shortage and you really need to stock, she’s miserable without it. As well as grocery shopping, cleaning the house, laundry, and pre-cooking lunch for your mother.

Every so often, you would hear Ere complaints, his “woe is me” as he flipped through the stapled stacks. You finished your own pile a few hours later, the day creeping into the afternoon, your lunch break in a couple of hours. Unable to hold yourself back as you snuck glances over at the struggling brunette situated in his chair. His desk was still stacked with papers, with his long hair no longer in the sleek bun he always came in with. His eyes were wracked with frustration. You glanced over at your-now clean desk, before glancing over at the clock once more.

With a heavy resolve, you stood up, before walking over to his desk. Eren, eyes shot with exasperation, only glanced up at you as you held your hand out towards him.

“Give me half, Jaeger '' you compromised, gesturing for him to hurry up.

He narrowed his eyes at you, “last time I did that, I got stuck with this pile.”

You rolled your eyes, “yeah and it’s painful to watch you agonize over this, my brain’s hurting from watching you.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but his hands moved towards the piling, picking up one of the stacks before handing it over to you.

“You better not get me in trouble again, angel.”

“How many times do I gotta tell you not to call me that, Jaeger?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Nothing but the light of the window, along with the flickering light hanging above you, and the lantern Erwin graciously provided you right before your lunch break, surrounding you as you dug deep into the old storage room. He had finally mentioned this storage room after offhandedly bringing it up in conversations with you. The storage was reaching its peak, according to him, with files, transcripts, court documents, and papers from decades of cases, both solved and still cold to this day. With the recent expansions, the mayor wanted everything as organized as possible, and with the sheriff's office so overwhelmed with the recent events, it fell upon you to get the huge storage room in check.

Past your lunch break, with all your main work completed, you found yourself finally beginning to dig through the boxes of old reports and evidence from decades of cases over the years. The room was stacked high with old evidence boxes, almost reaching the ceiling. In hindsight, for a town of that size, it wasn’t as big as many would make it. This was a relatively safe community, but with this expansion, crime was inevitable. Sighted by the obvious thief problem running through the town. As people found it easier to live a country life than city life. People wanna slow down, and in turn, many people of different walks come through. However, longtime residents are very abhorrent against seeing new-dangled city folk coming in and messing up their ways of life.

Throwing out old, moldy evidence boxes and replacing them with fancy metal filing cabinets Erwin and the mayor had ordered. You sighed, before breaking out in a violent cough as dust suddenly entered your lungs.

“Oh I am so asking for a raise after this,” you mumbled angrily, as you dropped the box on the one free table in the room.

The sudden slam overwhelmed the already-breaking box, the flimsy cardboard bottom giving out, causing the files to spill out of the dusty-filled container. The sudden spread of dust caused you to break out into another coughing/sneezing. Cursing to yourself as you cover your nose, eyes watering as you navigate towards the box of tissues you brought with you. Once the dust and dirt dissipated, you continued on your journey, mumbling under your breath as you did so.

‘‘Fuck,” huff “this,” huff “shit!” You let out a final huff as you recognized the files.

On the table where you worked, mark the folders alphabetically before placing them in the piles you had made. You glanced at the small pile, before gazing over at the still-tall piles of boxes that you still need to get through. Once the files were out of the way, you turned around, sighing as you walked towards the stepladder, mind still overrun with anger as you stepped up to grab another box. In a fit of your anger, the moment you yanked one of the boxes off of the tall stack, you must have missed a step, heart dropping as you felt your foot hook onto nothing, feeling yourself beginning to slip.

Your mind was racing, fear overtaking and grappling you, as you felt your hands let go of the box, flailing, and reaching out to grab something. You let out a short shriek, closing your eyes as you braced for impact. However, all you felt was your body landing on something much more softer than the wooden floor. Opening your eyes, you found yourself staring into familiar deep-green olive eyes. Mouth was slightly agape, as your hands unusually wrapped around his shoulders and arms. Your breath quickened slightly as your heart continued to race.

“That was really close, angel.”

His voice snapped you out of your trance, relaxing where exactly you were.

“Let me go Jaeger,” you grunted out, squirming in his hold.

The taller man looked down on you, a slight mischievous smile appearing on his face, “nah, think I like you right here.”

“You are in eye-stabbing distance Jaeger, let me go.”

He hummed, still not letting you go down from his arms, “how about you thank me for catching you? Instead of acting like you got a stick up your ass all the time?”

You grumbled, looking away from him, “rather swallow glass than do that.”

Eren hummed, shrugging his shoulders, “guess you’re stuck here.”

As he said that, his grip on you tightened, his arms pressing you right against his uniform-clad body. Underneath the rough material, you could feel his abs pressing through. The longer you stayed in his arms, the more aware you became of his large hands wrapped around your arm and leg. You could feel his chest moving up and down beneath. Your hands were on top of his shoulders, as the two of you locked eyes.

However, the door suddenly flew open, surprising both of you. Eren’s, ever the graceful person he is, hands suddenly flew up and inadvertently dropped you onto the dusty, old, wooden floor. You landed with your loud thud, letting out a short shriek as your boss, Erwin Smith, popped his head into the room. The tall blonde glanced between the two of you.

“...Did I interrupt something?” He called out, seeing you wince, rubbing yourself on your back, trying to relieve the sudden sharp pain.

Eren let off a nervous giggle, beginning to bend down slightly to help you up, “Ah, no sheriff, nothing at all. Just helping her out with some things.”

The tall blonde man only hummed, glancing between the two of you once more, before looking around at the boxes and new filing cabinets in the room before looking back down at the two of you. He narrowed his eyes at the two of you, not saying a word before slowly backing out, closing the door. The light dimmed, the room once again being illuminated by the singular light and the lantern. Eren looked back down at you, his large hands beginning to wrap around your waist. However, you smacked his hands away, reaching out and using the table to push yourself up. Shuddering, leaning back against the table to catch your breath as parts of your back and butt throbbed with white-hot pain.

“So…”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Get out Jaeger, before I murder you with this lamp.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The next day comes around, with you still organizing the storage room, and Eren still on desk duty, now taking on your pile of reports to do, while you were in the storage room, organizing the filing cabinet. According to Erwin, the reports had to be put into their respective new cabinets by the end of the week, as the mayor was coming to inspect them. With Eren still on desk duty, you had no choice but to delegate your tasks to the tan brunette, as Erwin, once again, literally trusted no one here but you to get these files into their new homes. Which most likely meant you would be stuck here overnight, continuously rummaging through these boxes. Erwin could only show off a face of pity as he gave you the task, luckily raising your pay to make up for the turmoil he was bringing upon you. Fortunately, you had a friend of your mom’s to help her for the next few days while you finished these tasks at work.

You felt your stomach twist, a loud rumbling sound echoing through the room, as you placed the file into the drawer before closing it. Reaching down you turned down the lantern until it dimmed out, before walking out of the room. Walking out of the room, wiping away the slight drip of sweat along your brow, pushing back the bandana you wrapped on top of your hair. You walked down the short hallway, on your way to your desk to head off for your break. You grabbed the bottle of water you had left on top of it, taking a sip as you glanced around the station a little more. There were a few more people in here than usual, ambling about. Your eyes couldn't help themselves as they gazed over to a certain brunette, watching him hunched over the desk, hair frenzied, but that wasn’t the only thing you saw. Standing right near him, hovering over his desk as well, was your other coworker. Mikasa, when it comes to strength within the station, was probably there, on par with Levi, and he didn’t officially work as a cop here. She and Eren go way back, his family taking her in and the two of them becoming officers at the same time. She was bent over the desk, their faces so close together as they spoke in low voices to each other.

You felt your heart constrict for a moment, but a voice pulled you out of your slight trance, turning your head as you made eye contact with gray eyes and a matching buzzcut. You finished your water bottle, screwing the top onto the empty bottle before placing it right on your desk.

“Connie? What’s up?”

When you first arrived in town, Connie was one of the first friends you’ve ever made, along with Jean, his wife, and Sasha. The four of you were basically inseparable all through your last two years of high school and would be the ones to help you out when your mother had her horrible accident.

Connie smiled before holding up a bag, a lunch bag, holding it out to you, “Mom made too much food, already dropped some off with Jean and his lil wife, and Sasha, though she almost took yours but thought you’d like the last of it.”

Your eyes widen, gracefully accepting the bag, and opening the folded top before the savory, rich smell of tomatoes, pasta, cheese, and spices hit your nose. It was a concoction you had smelled all before, memories of eating her lasagna after school whilst your mother was working her two jobs.

You squealed, “I haven't had her food in so long!” Your excitement overtook you, as you jumped towards Connie, wrapping your arms around him.

The man caught you easily twirling you around with laughter and a smile on your face. Neither of you didn’t notice both green and black eyes staring at the two of you, standing in the middle of the station. The two of you began to be wrapped up in your own conversation, walking away with Connie’s arm around you, towards the small break room in the back. Mikasa could only glance at Eren, his eyes glowering, and seeing the pen in his hand being squeezed to their death. The two of you were gone from his sight, but before she could focus him back on the papers, he stood up abruptly, mumbling something about taking his lunch break outside, before stomping out of the station.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The same day but late at night. Barely anyone would stick around at the station, those on nighttime duty would usually go out and patrol, only coming in for small breaks. Even then, they would go to their own homes before they would come to the station to do that. So, there was no one at the station.

Well until now.

The pile of paper was less, but Eren still had a few more to get through, the light of his lamp illuminating his desk as he continued to scribble across them. Erwin was clear on these being done on his desk by morning, with a harsh glare on his face before he headed off for the night, his girl standing outside the station waiting for him. In the distance, he can hear muffled thuds, the sounds of boxes hitting the floor and being torn apart. Eren’s foot tapped faster as his mind slightly drifted to you, still stuck in the storage room, sorting everything that has happened in this sheriff's station. You were still sorting through everything, spending overtime to be able to get it all done for you in time. The pace of his foot quickened, and his mind slowly descended into shambles. He dropped the pen on the desk, leaning back with a loud groan as his mind faded back to this afternoon, the last time he really laid eyes upon you.

Glancing over at the small hallway leading to the storage/evidence room, Eren stood up, his chair scooting back abruptly. His heavy boots thudded against the floor as he made his way to the storage room. The door was slightly ajar, the sounds of papers being shuffled, boxes being ripped apart, and disgruntled huffs getting louder and louder. Eren stood outside the doorway, opening the door a little further, allowing his eyes to lock onto your figure, bent over as you picked up an overstuffed file. You wore a black skirt, paired with a short green top. His eyes could leave your form, watching as you slowly stood back up, walking towards the filing cabinet standing against the wall. He watched as your bottom and thighs moved with every step you took. You bent over once again, opening the drawer, before placing the file into the drawer.

Eren swallowed some spit, coating his dry throat as he felt his pants tighten up. His hand shifted down, adjusting his pants as best as he could to hide the growing hard-on, before raising a hand. With little resolve, he knocked on the door, inadvertently widening the cracked space. The slight knocking and the squeaking door caught you off-guard as you turned around, gasping a bit as you made eye contact with him. Luckily, you weren’t holding anything, as you would have probably dropped it as Eren entered the room, stalking closer to you. You couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on your face as you took in his disheveled appearance.

“Come for help, Jaeger?”

He shook his head, tilting his head as he looked over at you, “...I’m all good over here.” He lied, the pile of papers still hauntingly high on his desk.

“With all these heavy boxes, you might need some help. Wouldn't want you falling to your death, right?” His tone took on a more vexatious tone, bending down slightly to be face to face with you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, the two of you barely an inch apart from each other’s faces, your noses barely grazing each other. The smell of his forest green cologne hit your nose, with the after-smell of mint, you held back a shudder, your thighs unconsciously rubbing together. You broke the stare first, taking a step back, scoffing, and turning your head.

“I have a lot to do tonight Jaeger, I don’t need your arrogance around me. Go finish those damn reports before Erwin yells at you again, and neither me or Mikasa can help you.”

You don’t know what got into you, it was as if her name slipped out of you, your heart racing as he took a few more steps towards you.

Eren narrowed his eyes at you, “not like you're any better off, looks like Connie can’t come give you a hand this time.”

You glared right back at him, “and what the hell does Connie have to—” you suddenly interrupted yourself, “you know what, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Get out. Can’t do any work with breathing down my neck.”

Eren’s glare never let up on you, only watching as you walked away from him, pulling the papers out of the file lying across the table. He shook his head, turning around before walking back towards the door. He reached out, grabbing the handle before pulling. It didn’t budge. Eren’s expression turned into one of slight confusion as he pulled on the door once more. The sound of the wood hitting against the doorframe had you lifting your head up, turning around, and seeing Eren struggling with the door. Your eyes widened, as your eyes landed on the smaller, sturdier box. Through your turmoil, you didn’t notice Eren accidentally kicking away the box that had kept the door propped open.

“You locked us in here! You idiot!” You screamed at him.

“I didn’t know!”

You scoffed, pushing him away, before pulling at the door. No dice. It didn’t budge. You were stuck in here, with Eren of all people. You took a couple steps back, hands on your waist, breathing heavily from the struggle of getting the door open. Eren was a couple of steps away from you, arms crossed as he looked over at you.

“We’re stuck here, until Erwin decides to come in.” Sighing, walking past him towards the table.

Eren followed right behind you, “so what? That’s it? We’re just stuck here? No other way out? No key? No nothing?”

A rush of anger overtook you like a sea wave, your body swiftly turning around to face the man who put you into this predicament, “no, there’s no way out. It locks from the inside, unless you have the key which goes on the outside. Only way to keep it open is if the key stays in the lock on the outside.”

“What the fuck? That’s so stupid, why would Erwin do something like that?”

For “security reasons” according to him, "trust me, you're not the first person to complain about it.”

“So we’re stuck here until morning,” you stated, crossing your arms, leaning against n the huge filing cabinets.

“That’s so… fuck!” He yelled.

The brunette walked back to the door, lifting his leg before kicking at it, multiple times. The loud boom echoed through the room, along with Eren’s heavy grunts. You turned your head, watching as he struggled against the door.

“Kicking stuff is not gonna help our situation, Jaeger.” You sighed, bending your head back, the cool touch of the metal sending calming chills through your spine.

Eren stood up straight, stalking towards you. He stood right in front of you, leaning down, hands in his pockets

He narrowed his eyes at you, “and what the hell do you suggest? I don’t see you thinking on how to get out of here!”

“Because there is no way out. You think Erwin would make a way out of here without the key? No. There's sensitive information in here.” You said, lifting your head up to look at him.

Your noses barely grazed each other as you glared right at each other. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest, that heated feeling blooming within you. The smell of his musk-like cologne not doing you sorts of favors.

Your hands, slightly shaking, reached up, hoping to move him away from you to relieve you of the tumultuous mess you were slowly becoming, “get out my face,” you hissed.

Your hands only touched his shoulders before his hands came up and wrapped around your wrists, easily pinning them against the metal box. Eren leaned down further into you, seeing his chest move up and down, his breath breezing up against your face. One day, when you would think back on this night in the future, the two of you may argue about who actually initiated everything between the two of you. The two of you locked lips, hands moving around the two of you in a frenzy, your hands running wildly through his long brown locks, while his hands roamed around your body, his two hands finding solace grabbing at and squeezing your ass. With ease, Eren easily picked up you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you, your back hitting up against the edge of the table, easily dropping you right onto it.

You shrieked, internally hissing as a hot-white pain shot up your back. The pain dulled away as quickly as it came as you let out a choked moan as you felt his lips leave wet kisses along your neck, “fuck… god, you’re an asshole.”

His eyes narrowed back at you, “looks who’s talking,” is all he said before he bent down again, swallowing you into another kiss.

Another moan left your lips, muffled by the kiss as Eren pressed his body further into you. His hands wrapped up around your knees, pushing your legs further apart and back, allowing your skirt to ride up. Revealing your soaked panties, the sticky sound of your juices as one hand left your leg. Eren took two fingers, hooking them underneath the soaked clothes before pulling them up and away, revaluing your drenched cunt to him. You felt cold air brush along your private, causing you to slightly shudder in his hold.

By now your loose blouse has fallen from your shoulders, your bra straps following, revealing your titties to him. Your distressed locs, once piled up into a high bun, now falling from the hold, brushing along your shoulder blades and neck. The both of you let go for a moment, catching your breath as you glanced at each other. His lips wet with your saliva, hair messy from your actions. You could feel your panties becoming more and more soaked as the two of you dove back into your intense kiss. Your hands feel his shirt, stumbling with the buttons as you undid his buttons one by one. Once you got enough buttons off, you ripped the rest of it off, buttons flying all over the room, revealing his chest. Eren soon let go of the kiss, taking a short breath before beginning to leave kisses all along your cheeks and jawline.

“Fuck—” choking on your spit, head thrown back in bliss.

Eren’s hands slid up from your waist, his large hands taking up each one of your breasts, He gave each a tentative squeeze, and the two of you locked eyes for a short moment. Eren gave you a smirk, causing you to narrow your eyes at him. He returned his attention to your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. Your body lurched as he sucked, his lips wet with drool.

His attention soon switched to your other nipple. The heat of the dark room didn’t help you as you ground yourself between the edge of the table and his chest. Your hands flew up, pulling in his long hair, as you let out a noisy moan. Your legs hooked around his back, a tight heat building up within you.

With a cry, a premature climax washed over you, your body trembling as your already wet panties became soaked with your cum. Eren soon let go of you, staring up at you, no words but his haughty-like smirk speaking for him. You glared at him, and a flash of anger went through you. An idea sparked within you as you gripped his hair, suddenly pulling down.

“Agh, what the fuck are you doing—?” He yelled as you pushed yourself off the table, making him stand up straight.

With all the leverage in your hands, you pushed him right down to the floor. He grunted as he landed, eyes going up as he saw you towering over him. He made eye contact with your bunched-up skirt, along with your soaked panties. Slowly, you pulled your panties down. Eren could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and he knew his whole face was red as you hovered over him.

With no words, you lowered yourself completely, your wet cunt landing comfortably on his face, right against his nose and lips. Eren’s tongue was already out of his mouth as you began to grind against him, not bothering to muffle your moans. Your legs and hips moved up and down against him, keeping the pressure up against him. Then, as if he went into overdrive, his arms and hands suddenly flew up, curling around, reaching over from the back, wrapping around your thighs, locking you in place. Eren held you down as he ate away at you. He licked and sucked away at you, his eyes gazing up at you, seeing how you threw yourself into complete euphoria.

“Fuck–” you stuttered, covering your mouth, sweat and tears mixing together as they dripped down your face.

For a moment, you glanced down at him, at the same time he opened his eyes, the two of you locking eyes. You couldn't he;p the smirk that appeared on your face. Your hands reached down, your nails and hands weaving through his dark brown hair.

“Not half bad, for someone like you, Jaeger,” your voice was breathy, your body convulsing.

Eren’s eyes glowed against the low light, glaring up at you, a range of emotions flowing through them. With no sudden warning, you shrieked as you were suddenly flipped up and around, landing right on your back. Just as quickly, you felt his lips take you once again, his two hands pinning you down by your wrists. The kiss was deep, drool dripping down from both of you. Your hips moved, around, looking for any type of friction, something to ease this fervid ache within you. One of Eren’s hands let go of one of your wrists, reaching down to your thigh, before pushing it back. Your now-free hand flew eight back into his hair. You pulled on it, smirking as you felt him moan in your mouth, as he sucked away on your tongue. You could taste yourself all over him, sending He soon in-slotted his hips in between your legs, his abdomen and hips grinding right up against you, feeling the stickiness of your slick dripping up against him. His hard-on slipped in between your sopping cunt, his angry-red tip pushing up against your clit.

He soon lets go of your other hand, not letting go of the kiss as his hands slither down and around your leg, before easily pushing them back. The slightly-painful stretch only causes you to surge forward. He let go of the kiss, taking deep and heavy puffs as he guided his hard cock in between you. You could hear him mumbling under his breath although the sound of your heart beating, as well as your heavy breaths from the messy kiss you two just had, overtook most of what he was saying. He was slapping the tip against your clit, his hips grinding the rest of his huffing and puffing.

A flash of anger went through you, and impatience overtook your tone, “hurry up, and fuck me Jaeger!”

His eyes held their own flash of ire as they narrowed at you, and suddenly without warning, he pushed his cock into you, pulling a sudden loud shriek out of you. His sudden action knocked the wind out of you, gasping as your back arched up, taking in the sudden aftershocks. His hands landed right on the back of your knees, his hands gripping around them, giving him balance as he slammed into your pussy.

“Fuck, Jaeger, slow down–” you cried out, your hands dragging down from his scalp into his back, your nails digging into his back.

He said nothing to you, his pace only picking up more and more, the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other was speaking for him. His hair drooped all around him, obscuring his face but you knew deep down inside he wore that very intense look upon his face. Your pussy throbbed and clenched around his length, feeling reaching deep in you. He soon leaned down, his lips lining right up against your ear.

“Huh, still not half bad right, for someone like me? Right, Angel?” He whispered right in your ear, before taking a tentative lick at your ear and beginning to suck on it softly.

As if something snapped within you, you reached right back into his hair, pulling his head away from you. The sudden pull caused Eren to let out a loud groan, his body trembling, his thrust wavering for a moment. The moment awakened something in you, a sudden smugness going through you as you pulled on it again. Just as before his thrust wavered as he let out another loud moan, letting off a soft “fuck” as well. Taking advantage of his imbalance, gathering what little strength you could while in your second wind, you were able to push Eren right back on his back again. He landed with an oof as he opened his eyes, seeing you towering over him once again. You smirked down at him, before turning around, your back and butt facing him as you hovered right over his cock, soaking wet with your juices. Taking a deep breath, you let out a long hiss as you slowly lowered yourself right onto him.

“Oooh fuck,” he groaned, his hands reaching out and gripping the fat around your thighs.

You pushed your long locs to the side as your hips began to move up and down, using your legs as a balance. Soon getting into a rhythm, your movements quickened, the new position hitting new places within your soaking pussy. Eren’s incoherent moans invigorated you, your hips rocking in all different directions. You could feel his hands gripping bruises into your skin, his slightly long nails digging crescents into your skin. You glanced back at him, seeing his eyes clenched shut, a deep red blush running all over his face and neck. You lifted yourself up, a slight desolate emptiness going through you. Eren let off a gasp, opening his eyes and looking up at you. He narrowed his eyes at you as he let go of his grip around your thighs.

His breath was heavy, glaring at you but as quick as it came, it went away as you sank tight back onto his cock, facing him this time. With a smug look, leaning down as much as you could as you rode him, easily grabbing at his hair and pulling.

“Angel–, wait, fuck,” his voice was desperate, the slight whines only send waves of pleasure all through your spine and core.

Hearing Eren’s cries intoxicated you, your hips moving faster and faster, more and more sporadically as well. Your grip on his hair loosened, revealing Eren in the heated daze you put in. Seeing your dilemma, he grabbed your butt, squeezing it tightly before thrusting up roughly. You shrieked, your body flopping onto his, your hands on his shoulders for some balance as he speared his cock into you. You let off curses, the mixture of spit and sweat dripping down from your face and landing on your lips, tasting the salty mixture. As the heated knot within builds up more and more, Eren feels your cunt clench and pulse around him, only further pushing him over the line.

Your head landed right on his shoulders, unable to hold back your words, “I still hate you so, fuck— much,” you mumbled in his ear.

His erratic thrusts only turned sporadic as his own lips reached your ears, “yeah, you hate me? Show me how much you hate, come for me.”

His words, covered in spitefulness, only urge you, pulling a loud moan out of you as you shook in his hold, your climax spilling and ripping out of you. You dug your nails into him, breaking skin as you came all over him. Your orgasm overwhelmed him, the final push of him as he slammed into you for one last time, groaning very loudly. He didn’t bother pulling out, his seed spilling into you, mixing in with your clear juices. The two of you were breathing very heavily, your head flopping onto his shoulder as his hands wrapped themselves around your waist.

Eren glanced down, hearing soft snores as he saw you slumped, sleeping from the strenuous activity. He couldn’t hold back the smile on his face, slowly easing you off of him but still keeping you right on him as he grabbed his uniform, before pulling it over the two of you. A wave of tiredness overtook him as well, not saying a word, holding you close before falling asleep on the floor of the storage room.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

High-pitched laughter echoed through the ranch home, your head bent in shame as you sat at your friend’s home.

“I’m sorry for laughing,” she said, obviously not sorry at all, as she wiped the tears from her face.

You took a sip of the coffee she made for you, twirling one of your locs in between your fingers, “it’s fine, trust me. I’d be laughing if it was you in my situation.”

“Your situation? You fucked your co-worker in a storage room, and got caught by your BOSS of all people.”

You covered your face with your hand, letting off a very loud groan, “it was the most embarrassing shit I’ve ever experienced! But the fact that Erwin KNEW something like this would happen… I need to get a new job.”

Your friend snickered, covering her mouth and looking away from you. Before she could say something the back door flew open. Heavy boots hitting the ground, the two of you watched as a very sweaty Jean came through the door. His shirt was wide open, drenched with dirt and sweat, his hat shielding him from the outside sun. You glanced over at your friend, who was staring at her husband like a piece of meat ready to be devoured. You rolled your eyes, sipping down the rest of your lemonade.

“Hey there, haven’t seen you in a while,” Jean said, coming around to give you a short hug.

You smiled, hugging him back, “yeah, been busy at work but thought I’d swing by here while I have the rest of the day off.”

“Yeah, “been busy doing work”…” Your friend teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

Jean’s eyebrows quirked up, looking at your playful glare towards his wife and his wife’s teasing smile. Suddenly, he remembered the conversations he had with his wife. His eyes widened, glancing between the two of you, before putting his hands up in surrender, not wanting to think of his friend any other way.

He walked around the table, grabbing the pitcher of lemonade she had left on the counter, pouring himself a big glass

“Leave me out of it,” is all Jean said, bending down to give his wife a sweet kiss on the cheek before on the lips.

He was about to walk away, but a soft hand stopped him, pulling him down. A surge of elation ran through him as he felt her soft lips on his own. He ignored the scoff from the other side of the table as he deepened the kiss, closing his eyes. His hand nearly slammed down onto the table, using it for balance as he pushed down. Just as his lungs were beginning to scream out, she slowly let go of the kiss, smiling as the line of spit connected her lips to his own.

“Not so bad, Mr. Kirstein,” she mumbled, her hand reaching up towards him, her thumb stroking his cheek.

Jean smiled, grabbing her hand, and laying a couple of kisses on it, “only learned from the best,” he said back, giving her one last kiss on her hand before standing up fully.

You gagged, looking away from the two of them, “ew, keep your lovey-doveyness away from me.”

His wife rolled her eyes, fulling face you once again, “you could get like me, you know. With you know who.”

You shook your head, grimacing “would rather work in the mines before I do that.”

Jean glanced between his wife and his friend, shaking his head before taking a huge gulp of lemonade. He needed to get back to the horses and cattle soon. A long day ahead of him after all.

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madnessr · 10 months

Text

Vagabond

Vagabond — wandering from place to place without any settled home

Poly Lost Boys x GN Reader Synopsis: Forgiveness is a fickle thing. When four souls find each other, the world finds its equilibrium once more; until the absence of another tips the scale forever. What happens when a familiar face shows itself back at the boardwalk after twenty years of absence?

Warnings: slight angst, lots of historical information in the beginning

Word Count: 3k

By issuing the Declaration of Independence, adopted by the Continental Congress on July 4th, 1776, the 13 American colonies severed their political connections to Great Britain.

You had been ten during the conflicts between America and Great Britain, young and impressionable. Your family came with Puritans, who set sail to America back in 1630. Unlike the Pilgrims, who had left ten years earlier, the Puritans did not break with the Church of England but sought to reform it. All that happened before you were born; your ancestors had settled down and spread their roots into American soil.

You recalled little of the American Revolution; after all, you were very young back then, but you remember December 15th, 1791, vividly. Your mother couldn't stop crying that day, and your father had pulled out the oldest whiskey they had that day. America was finally severed from the tyrannical rule of George III.

You came to understand the significance of those dates more as you aged, growing into a strong individual as you helped your family on their farm. You never intended to marry; it wasn't something you had ever desired or looked forward to. The same year you had gotten married was the day you lost your immortality; both events are related but not necessarily connected. You were introduced to the vampiric community in New Orleans, a city that used the day to sleep off the mistakes you made throughout the rambunctious night.

You had lived through the formation of the Constitution of the United States of America in 1787 when the founding fathers sought to implement more structure into the now independent country.

The infamous whiskey rebellion. American drunks apparently were not too keen about Alexander Hamilton implementing a liquor tax to try and raise money for the national debt; asserting the federal government's power back in 1794.

Only nine years later, the Louisiana Purchase happened in 1803. The small land purchase for only $27 million created room for the states of Louisiana, Missouri, Arkansas, Iowa, North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, and Oklahoma, along with most of Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, and Minnesota.

Throughout the 1810s and 1830s, you had moved on from New Orleans and left for New York, seeking human connections and reconnecting with the younger generations. During that time, the Battle of New Orleans in 1815 and the Monroe Doctrine in 1823 seemed to fly past you.

Then, signed on February 2nd, 1848, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo finally brought closure to the Mexican-American war. At this time, you were no stranger to political conflicts anymore, and the stench of blood and sweat staining battlefields was, unfortunately, no stranger.

Life moved on regardless, no matter the horrid realities life provided. For a short while, life had finally come to a stand-still, guns tucked away as the world in America resumed its development. Until April 12th, 1861, Confederate troops fired on Fort Sumter in South Carolina's Charleston Harbor at 4:30 A.M., A day that changed America forever, the beginning of the American Civil War.

The Emancipation Proclamation, The First Conscription Act, The Battle of Chancellorsville, The Vicksburg Campaign, The Gettysburg Campaign, The Battle of Chickamauga, The Battle of Chattanooga, The Siege of Knoxville. The list continued, and the coppery smell of wasted humanity tainted the air, the wind carrying the cries of victims throughout the nation.

The war ended in the Spring of 1865. Robert E. Lee surrendered the last major Confederate army to Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox Courthouse on April 9th, 1865.

The number of soldiers who died throughout those four years eventually got estimated to be around 620,000.

Only 47 years later, on July 28th, 1914, the Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, beginning the cruel trench warfare of World War I. In early April 1917, America aided the effort to join a war to end all wars. You had entered the war effort, like everyone capable at the time; from soldiers to nurses, everyone gave aid.

On November 11th, 1918, the war ended. Although the Allies won, you found no reason to celebrate. Not when mothers sold their homes since there wasn't a reason to have a multiple-bedroom house anymore, when graveyards overflowed with the dead, when people mourned their losses, when mothers' only answer to their missing sons was a notice declaring their child missing in action.

The stock market crashed in 1929, kicking off the Great Depression that would last for more than a decade.

On September 1st, 1939, Germany invaded Poland. Kicking off World War II and beginning one of the most brutal warfare's, Blitzkrieg. On May 8th, 1945, Germany surrendered. After the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan surrendered on September 2nd, 1945, and the Second World War came to an end.

The war ended, and the surviving soldiers returned with missing limbs and broken spirits. You were a firm believer that humans were not meant to witness so much death; it tainted them; it dulled them. Although you were a vampire, a creature supposedly made for horror, you could not forget what you had witnessed in only the span of 21 years.

You were 201 years old now, relatively young in the grand scheme of time, but you had lived through a few of the greatest horrors the world had ever seen.

189 years of traversing the lands, you watched grow in a desperate search to find one of your own. Since you were turned and left New Orleans, you had not met a single vampire. You watched with sorrowful wisdom in your eyes as the world passed through you, virginity in people's expressions you wish you had. A gaze untainted by warfare, civil unrest, and brutality.

Although you have met the occasional human to brighten your own world, it did not cure you. Your search was desolate—fruitless.

Your feet had carried you to Santa Carla, the year now being 1963, and just as the five stages of grief had settled on acceptance. You bumped into a group of four rambunctious bikers that would change your life forever. That had been the first time you had met, and you had continued to live together, going on to live through the Civil Rights movement and grieving the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.

But on August 12th, 1967, you left Santa Carla. Your absence is only justified by a delicately written letter standing in your place. You had grown to love the boys, but you had lived differently compared to them.

Marko and Paul were younger vampires than you, having been turned while The Great Depression was bulldozing America. Dwanye had been older, abandoning his immortality in the 18th century along with David. All of them possessed the innate ability to move on from the past, a talent you, unfortunately, did not possess.

No matter how hard you tried, you could not find peace or excitement in the future. The uncertainty corrupted you, tormented you and your experiences, so you left. Not with the intent to abandon but to sort out whatever you had to sort out. Away from the prying eyes of those you loved, those who you did not want—couldn't disappoint.

Santa Carla, the town you had never been able to forget. It was 1987 now; twenty years had passed since you had seen the four vampires. You had missed them—a melancholic weight having nestled its way into your heart ever since you left. You regretted the way you had left through a simple letter. A cowardly move; you were wise enough to understand that. But at the time, you couldn't bring yourself to say it to them. How could you? Look someone in the eyes, someone like you—your own pack that never did anything but love you—and tell them you were leaving?

You didn't have the heart, and if you were a little more honest, you didn't have it now, either. But you missed them more than your hurt pride by walking what felt like a walk of shame as you wandered around the busy boardwalk. One thing you never could get used to was the constant shift in fashion, it felt like the ins became the outs overnight, and you never were able to keep up with it.

Bright colors were the most fashionable now, with teased hair and loud makeup. You enjoyed it, your knowing eyes watching over the crowd. The smell of hairspray permeated the air, wafting towards you as you passed people. Bulky and oversized clothes were spotted throughout the crowds, some men and women wearing specific member-only jackets. Ah, it seems the surfer nazis still haven't given up on Santa Carla yet.

The amusement park was new; back in 1867, the boardwalk had small shops littered around—like a market. Originally it mostly sold food and groceries, fish caught fresh from the sea, and farmers selling their produce.

How has the pier changed so significantly? If it wasn't for the bold, attention-seeking sign that said Santa Carla Boardwalk; you would've thought you were at the wrong address. But stepping on those old wooden floorboards of the pier that occasionally creaked or sunk under your feet was an all too familiar feeling. The smell of salt, rotting seaweed that had washed onto the shore, and the fresh street food made you feel all too at home.

It felt like you had never really left.

Your appearance had changed quite a bit since you left Santa Carla, so you didn't expect either the boys or Max to really recognize you. But although you were willing to stay under the radar for the boys, Max was another story. He was a head vampire, a coven leader, and therefore needed to be notified of your presence.

Entering Max's video store made you feel nostalgic, the same old grimy bell still hanging atop the doorframe signaling your arrival; you had been the one to put that there to originally annoy Max. You were surprised he kept it. The wooden floorboards and furniture gave off a distinct, homey smell. You had been there when the store was built, and the shiny coating across the floors now had grown mat, occasional wood panels brighter in color than before.

"I never thought I'd meet the day I saw you walk through those doors again."

Turning around, you met the stern gaze of Max. His outfit made you smile, a desperate attempt at blending in with the crowd. Max was always a stickler for blending in; if he had no intention of turning you; you had no business knowing who; or rather what, he was.

"It's good to see you."

"I'm flattered, but I doubt that I am the sole reason you returned." Max always carried that knowing tone, as if he's watched out every move you'd make before you made them. It reminded you that Max had a coven before the boys and you, one he rarely conversed about. Perhaps Max really had seen this turn out before, but analyzing that surprised expression, you could only assume who had left never did come back.

"How right you are," You sighed, shoulders dropping as you hopped onto the cashier counter. It was before opening, meaning you and Max had some time to chat privately.

"Twenty years is a long time," Max hummed, a low and almost chiding tone. "What made you come back?"

"To us, it isn't," You weakly argued back. The cumbersome feeling, or rather an awareness that you were in the wrong, was nearly unbearable. You were smart enough to understand that denial was a fruitless endeavor, and yet you couldn't help but let those desperate attempts escape you.

"For people waiting for you, it's an eternity." Max sighed in a calm but chiding tone. Although Max never did have to scold you the way he did with the boys, from not committing arson to preventing fights. Max instead focused his guidance towards you on a more emotional level, the morality; a bit ironic being taught by a vampire—but he did his best.

You glanced outside, through the glass walls of Max's shop, watching the bustling crowd pass you. Twenty years to a vampire was nothing, but somehow the short span of time felt arduous. Why did you come back?

"I never intended on staying away forever. I knew that when the time was right, I'd return." You explained, stealing a quick glance at Max. The older man had a frown etched onto his face, eyebrows furrowed as his own gaze lingered on the rambunctious humans outside. So unaware of the constant and unrelenting passage of time. It was cruel to be immortal; the passage of time no longer hindered you. But emotions are bendable and are the only aspect of ourselves that remains from who we were. Emotions were mortal.

"Santa Carla has changed, Y/N. It is not what you left behind; they are not the same as they were alongside you." Max recalled, his voice disapproving.

You knew Max was correct; you knew deep in your wrenching and twisting gut. You jumped off the counter, your feet hitting the floor like gravity had shifted around you, sinking your body into the floor. "I know," you knew; perhaps the boys didn't even want to see you; they could curse you out and send your name to hell for all eternity. They deserved to do it too.

But they loved you once, and perhaps you can't help shake the feeling that they might love you again this time too.

Max sighed, walking over to his front door and twisting the closed sign around, and pronouncing the store now open. Each tap of his foot, synced with his steps, was like a thundering echo inside you. It prompted you to get up and to provide closure for the others. You reach the door, opening midway before Max leaves you with some parting advice.

"I hope you find what you came here for, Y/N. But the time might be right for you now, but it might not be for them."

You nodded, not looking back as you walked out of the store. The air was warmer, humid from the ocean breeze mixing into the air, the notorious assassin for any styled and teased hair due.

Laughter was one of your favorite sounds. As cliche as that might sound, it felt rejuvenating to hear. Whether it was a loud cackle mimicking the call of a hyena or a high-pitched wheeze or whistle. There was a beauty in people's expressions, how their noses tended to scrunch up, or how others held their stomachs and nearly doubled over. Laughter was infectious, and you loved observing the dopamine spread to others. Strangers connecting over a similar sense of joy; there was a beauty in it.

The boardwalk was filled with it, people brushing shoulders against shoulders as they walked. Groups cackling and shoving each other as they enjoyed the youngness of the evening. Music booming from different directions, punks blasting the newest rap or metal music, hippies tuning out to a gentle jam, but the loudest seemed to be a distant concert down the boardwalk and closer to the pier. Like a bee sensing some honey, you followed. Dodging the occasional passerby, ducking out of the way from shop owners lugging their merchandise around.

The music got louder, and a small thread of excitement seemed to push you further, faster. Your small stroll transformed into a quickened step, your ears guiding you and your eyes following the crowd. The music was loud; a tight smosh-like pit had formed before the stage where people grind and brushed against each other to the beat of the music.

Looking around, you scanned the faces of teenagers and young adults. There was an eager but dreaded nervousness to your gaze at the thought of seeing a face that looked familiar. But it wasn't your eyes that caught their presence, but rather your sense of smell.

Copper.

Although it was harder to pick up when the wind stills its prancing, the occasional breeze led you further towards the pier. Away from the smosh pit, and where people stood to enjoy the music but not risk getting mulled over by a hormonal teenager.

There they stood, strikingly familiar. Although some of the fashion had changed, most of their originality stayed intact. That tiny red flag tied around Dwayne's waist was something the two of you had stolen from a stingy bar owner back in 1964; Markos jacket still had all too familiar patches sewn into its denim fabric; Paul still wore those bracelets you gave him, and David wore the most prominent reminder of you, his oversized coat.

The wind picked up around you, a cold and mocking breeze flowing through your hair and betraying your presence to the four men you had left behind all those years ago. One by one, heads lifted, smiling ceased, and laughter died. Although you had spent years preparing yourself for this moment, nothing felt so gut-wrenchingly real than standing before them.

How do you look someone in the eyes after you've abandoned them?

How do you move past that moment when the world around you stills and halts. When you lose yourself in the blear of the world when mortality reaches its hand around your heart and squeezes. A vice-like grip, a feeling blooming within your chest so heavy–so unspeakable. When you see those eyes, recognize the sorrow behind them and realize you were the perpetrator. You were the one who put that agony, that sadness there.

The burden of your actions ties itself around your throat like a noose, tight and unyielding, as you realize the cruelty was done by none other than yourself. And there is no way, in any shape or form, you could reverse the damage you've done. Pain is immortal, it might yield to its throbbing, but it never forgets.

A world with your boys back in 1967 exists now only in your memory. The four men, cold as the autumn waters, were your reality now.

"Hello, boys."

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prozac · 2 months

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December 27th, 2008 is the day Anik Pillai was left behind. Trying to find his family, he travels the East Coast with his new friends, avoiding the bloodthirsty monsters created by a world-ending virus. ⠀⠀⠀🌹

⠀⠀

⠀

🌹 Season 1: 5 months (Jan-May)

⠀Anik Pillai, separated from his sister, makes friendly with multiple people in the chaos of the collapse of society. In this chaos, Anik raises a little boy who was also separated from his family.

⠀

🌹 Season 2: 1 month (June)

⠀Anik and his friends try to escape the city before it is bombed by the remnants of the United States’ government.

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🌹 Season 3: 2 months (July-August)

⠀Still unable to find his sister & parents, Anik and friends meet a capable married couple, and head to a safe settlement called Wheatville.

⠀

🌹 Season 4: 1 month (September)

⠀The main group learn more about the state of society and science after the fall.

⠀

🌹 Season 5: 3 months (October-December)

⠀The main group learn more about the virus that has made the world implode.

⠀

🌹 Season 6: 1 year (January-December)

⠀Those who remain stay at the first major rebuilt faction: a settlement called Libertytown.

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🌹 Season 7: 4 months (January-April)

⠀While the group is forcibly split, Anik and those with him travel to the city formerly known as Atlanta, which hosts another rebuilt faction: Center for Safety.

⠀

🌹 Season 8: 1 yr (May-May)

⠀A period of rest. However, the surface of calm begins to bubble…

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🌹 Season 9: 2 months (June-July)

⠀Anik learns more about the state of the world outside of the embrace of the powerful settlements.

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🌹 Season 10: 1 month (August)

⠀THE MEAT FACTORY.

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🌹 Season 11: 11 months (September-July)

⠀Anik is alone.

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🌹 Season 12: 6 months (August-January)

⠀Valentino King, hungry ruler of the Kingdom faction, strikes a deal with the mourning Anik Pillai. Anik takes that deal.

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🌹 Season 13: 1 year 4 months (Feburary x2-June)

⠀With society on the coast all forming alliances, the new faction Home begins to become a place of respite.

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🌹 Season 14: ~3 days (July)

The war begins to end.

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🌹 Season 15: 6 months (July-December)

⠀Anik Pillai finishes what was started.

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 🥀

#DAIL #DAIL Summaries #❤️💚💙🧡

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kingwilliamv · 4 months

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Wales Family moments in 2023

April 9: Easter Sunday Service at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor

May 6: Coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camilla

May 7: Coronation Concert in Windsor

May 8: The Big Help Out

June 17: Trooping The Colour

July 14: A visit to the Royal International Air Tattoo at RAF Fairford

July 16: Wimbledon Gentlemen’s Singles Final

December 8: “Together at Christmas” Carol Service at Westminster Abbey

December 9: 2023 Christmas Card photo release

December 25: Christmas Day Service at Sandringham

#family moments #prince william #prince of wales #kate middleton #princess of wales #prince george #princess charlotte #prince louis #british royal family #royal #mine

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rwrbmovie · 8 months

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BTS of #RWRBMovie: Stephen Fry as King James III

ML via Tatler:

The character was originally supposed to be a queen – ‘Queen Mary’ is the head of the family in McQuiston’s book – yet none of the grand dames were interested when casting calls went out. 'I think, at that stage of Her Majesty’s life, none of the Dame Judi Denches, Helen Mirrens and Julie Andrewses of the world wanted to do something like that,’ says López. Fry, however, jumped at the chance. 'He said yes right away,’ says López, pausing to laugh. 'Of course, he is friends with His Majesty. I never asked him what he thought the King might think of Stephen playing a fictional British king.’ Perhaps Fry’s friendship with the monarch is why he was so well-versed in decorum and royal protocol. 'He didn’t even have to be told,’ says López. 'He just rattled it off. He was like, “Can I say this instead, Matthew?” I was like, “Yes, fine, you’re Stephen Fry, you can do whatever you want.”

ML via What to Watch:

I think there’s a point at which, once a project starts to actually get some forward momentum, then it starts to become a lot easier to convince people to be in the movie, and by the time we got Uma, I was like ‘great, who else wants to join the fun wagon?!’ Stephen took no convincing whatsoever, that was such a happy thing for me, because I thought ‘well, there’s a very slim chance he’s going to say yes to this’, you know, I’m sure he’s busy, I’m sure he’s not going to want to do it, it’s too perfect, and then he said yes straight away, and I felt so happy.“

ML via OutSFL:

I’ve always been such a fan of his [Stephen Fry] and really admired him greatly. We had had some sort of communication through other people over the years because he had seen “The Inheritance” in London. He got word to me, through our producers, how much he loved it. I had been working at one point on another film that I thought I was going to make, and when he found out that I was working on it, he was like. “I’d really love to be a small part in it if you have anything.” But I never talked to him and never met him. When this role came around [laughs], we thought, “Let’s see if he really means what he says!” He jumped at it! It didn’t take long at all for him to say, “Yes.” That was fun. Just to watch him and work with him is just a great thrill and a pleasure. It was for everybody. Everybody was really excited the day that he came on set.

ML via TV Times:

'It was really important to create a lot of daylight between the fictional royal family in the movie and the actual royals - they aren’t the Windsors, ours are completely made up,’ says Matthew, 46. 'But when Stephen walked on set in that double-breasted suit, I think everyone in the cast and crew stood to attention!’

#rwrbedit #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #rwrbsource #stephen fry #king james iii #rwrb bts #rwrbbts #bts #*#my gifs

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months

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The DM's Excerpts - Charles III: New King, New Court

Robert Hardman (who also wrote Queen of Our Times, published 2022) has written a new book about the British Royal Family. The Daily Mail is serializing parts of the book over four days, from 12 - 15 January 2024. Here are the links. If anyone has any others, feel free to share them in the comments.

If you don't want to give the DM clicks, I've included highlights below. (My browser doesn't recognize archive.vn or archive.ph as a valid domain so I can't create or access those links.)

TL;DR--

The day the Queen died, 12 Jan 2024

Secret summits over making Charles regent in Queen's last years, 13 Jan 2024

How the royals have dealt with a torrent of allegations from Harry and Meghan, 14 Jan 2024

Harmdan's intimate portrait of a woman who dances at Abba concerts, jabs the King with her handbag and 'knows when to wink at a bishop,' 15 Jan 2024

Excerpt #1, 12 Jan 2024

Highlights:

The last time most of her staff saw The Queen was at the pre-dinner cocktails the evening of September 6th. She was happy, chatty, and in a good mood. (September 6th was the Boris Johnson-Liz Truss transition.)

It was sheer luck that Anne and Peter were at Balmoral during this time. Anne was passing through for work, Peter was preparing for a shooting party he was going to host over the weekend (which ended up cancelled). Also Sarah Chatto was nearby.

On September 7th, The Queen planned to attend the Privy Council meeting as it involved new Cabinet officials being installed. She eventually cancelled on medical advice. This was the first signal to many that she wasn't doing well.

Charles and Camilla were on the western side of Scotland for a series of engagements September 7 - September 8. The morning of September 8, Anne called Charles to come to Balmoral at once. On the helicopter to Balmoral, everyone was reviewing the Operation London Bridge papers. They arrived at Birkhall around 10:30am and traveled to Balmoral in a borrowed car.

William was called around breakfast time and informed of the situation, including that was on his way to Balmoral. Charles himself called William (and Andrew, Edward, and Harry) that they should also come. After Charles's calls, Kensington Palace began coordinating with Royal Lodge (Andrew's office*) and Bagshot Park (Edward's office*) on travel to Scotland. William and KP did not reach out to the Sussexes because betrayal, and they felt the responsibility should have been on the Sussexes to make contact. (*Not really their offices, but it's the easiest way to keep them separate so you know who I'm talking about.)

Everyone was disturbed by Harry's inclusion of these events, especially the "Meghan's not coming/she's my wife/Kate's not coming either/that's all you had to say" bit, in his memoir. Harry's recollection of how he was notified of The Queen's death isn't true - he claims no one was talking to him but actually Charles and the palace had been trying to reach him repeatedly. The calls weren't going through because he was in the air. (Interesting that he'd check the BBC first as opposed to calling back after seeing a dozen of missed calls...or not springing for the wifi package...)

Liz Truss, the new PM, was in a G7 conference call on September 8th when she was notified of the situation in Scotland. She bowed out of the call early and quickly. The G7 leaders knew what was happening.

Charles was rather close to Balmoral when he received the call that The Queen had passed. William, Andrew, Edward, and Sophie were on the way to Balmoral from the Aberdeen airport. Charles called them himself to let them know.

The Archbishop of Canterbury was in France on a personal holiday. He and his wife began preparing to return home after seeing the palace's first statement about The Queen's health. They drove home overnight so Welby could make an address in the morning.

Excerpt #2, 13 Jan 2024

Highlights:

The Queen had been quite ill in her final year. She knew and was aware her time was ending that summer.

A regency would have been created had she lived as long as The Queen Mother because everyone was fearful of a health condition flaring up in public.

Planning for Charles's accession and coronation began in 2015. Sir Alderton, his private secretary, created a "training video" of the accession/transition then that Charles, Camilla, and William watched in the evening of September 8th during their private dinner at Birkhall, while Princess Anne hosted the rest of the family at Balmoral. If Harry wasn't such a dick (my word, not Hardman's), he'd have been part of the Birkhall dinner but he wasn't and there were very serious concerns he would write about it in Spare.

The announcement of The Queen's death was delayed because family members hadn't been informed yet. (I think it was Harry they were waiting on, per the events in the first article.)

The royals were very touched by the outpouring of public affection for The Queen, themselves, and their family. Camilla was struck by how supportive the crowd was of her. Anne was touched by the tractors, horses, and the crowds that lined the roads in Scotland. It was a six hour drive, and she and Tim had had snacks in their car but they both felt it would have been rude to everyone that came to see the procession and pay their respects to be seen eating.

Camilla sobbed through Charles's first speech.

The Privy Council were concerned that the political upheaval in the government would cause problems for the accession, transition, and royal mourning.

It was William's idea for him, Kate, and the Sussexes to do the Windsor walkabout together. He organized it in two hours. No one found it easy or enjoyable.

Excerpt #3, 14 Jan 2024

Highlights:

The Queen felt she had to say 'yes' when Harry contacted her about naming his daughter Lilibet and she was very angry with him for it. (Reading between the lines, it sounds like the decision was presented by the Sussexes as "fait accompli" and The Queen took offense.)

The Sussexes tried to force the palace to go along with their version (that they had asked The Queen for permission) but the palace refused to play. They also tried to intimidate the press with legal action if anyone didn't report "their" version of events, even going so far as threatening the BBC with a lawsuit.

Everyone at the palace rolled their eyes about the Sussexes getting the RFK "Ripple of Hope Award." They felt that the "legacy" the Sussexes were being rewarded for was laughable, especially when compared to Charles's work.

The Caribbean gets its news through the US media. (I believe this confirms the theory that Sussex PR influenced the Caribbean's coverage of the Royal Family)

William saw Harry's comments in the Netflix documentary that they're expected to marry someone who fits the mold as an attack on Kate and he's been furious since. He feels betrayed by Harry having discussed their relationship so freely, thinks it's an intrusion of privacy.

Neither William nor Kate have read Spare but they are aware of what's being said and their staffs have briefed them.

Harry's version of events when The Queen Mother died is totally made up. (In Spare, Harry says he was alone, it was springtime just before Easter, and he took the call himself, but actually he was in Switzerland skiing with Charles and William and all three were told together by an aide.)

It's very suspicious that Spare largely skips May 2018 - March 2020. The palace thinks it'll be covered in the second version or Meghan's memoir.

The door is open for Harry and Meghan to return but they'll have to make the first steps since Charles has given up.

Anne's seat the coronation in front of Harry was a last-minute change so she could leave more quickly after the service in the procssion. She was concerned about keeping her hat on since it was "decent-sized" but she was told to keep it on.

Excerpt #4, 15 Jan 2024 - TBD

Highlights

It's been a difficult transition to Queen for Camilla, but everyone believes she handled it well. Her family finds it surreal.

Camilla doesn't mind being second fiddle to Charles.

She still has her Wiltshire home, Ray Mill, which she bought after divorcing Andrew PB. She still visits and stays there to this day.

Everyone walks a bit on eggshells around Charles because he's a bit temperamental, but Camilla steadies him.

Camilla likes her rooms hot. Charles like his rooms cold and windows open.

Charles skips lunch. Camilla does not.

Camilla keeps Charles running on time when he gets chatty.

Camilla is hands-on with her charities and patronage.

I find her sister is overstaying her welcome. After her starring role in the coronation documentary and now her interviews with Hardman for the book, it's too much and feels like she's trying too hard.

Other stories by Hardman from his book:

Foreign Office officials 'ditched buses for dignitaries' at coronation after backlash at the Queen's funeral, 13 Jan 2024

Brigadier who helped carry Queen's coffin was at a wedding in Corfu, 13 Jan 2024

Queen's funeral rehearsal was a comedy of errors as even the band went AWOL, 13 Jan 2024

Prince Andrew could be 'far more damaging outside the loop,' 14 Jan 2024

The DM's other royal reporters - Martin Robinson, Rebecca English, Natasha Livingstone - are publishing "recaps" of Hardman's excerpts. Some of Rebecca English's stories are augmented by her own sources. Here are a few:

Insiders revewal how the Queen was so upset by Harry and Meghan's Lilibet decision that she told aides 'the only thing I own is my name. And now they've taken that': The royal row taht troubled Her Majesty in twilight of her reign, 15 Jan 2024

'For William, this was the lwoest of the low,' 15 Jan 2024

Camilla was given the affection nickname 'Lorraine' before seh became Queen, 14 Jan 2024

Harry and Meghan likely caused Queen 'distress' in her final years over naming of baby Lilibet, 15 Jan 2024

The Queen's final years were overshadowed by Harry and Meghan's hunger for publicity, 15 Jan 2024

Also, these are reminding me of some things Harry and Meghan (Harry mostly) have claimed and Hardman's articles are debunking them. I need to do a bit of research to check if the dates on what I'm remembering line up with the timeline Hardman is presenting. I'll do a separate post on that since this is already quite long.

#brf #rumors #theories #robert hardman

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arofili · 1 year

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Tolkien Fandom Event Calendar

Recently I’ve received some asks about events/weeks in the Tolkien fandom, so I thought I’d compile a list of those that I know about. This is not exhaustive, and dates are subject to change by the organizers of these events!

Other blogs you can check out are @tolkieneventsblog and @tolkienfandomevents, though I’m not sure how active those are. The @silmarillionwritersguild Discord also has a channel dedicated to signal boosts for all sorts of Tolkien-related & general fandom happenings, which is another excellent way to keep up with fandom goings-on.

Want to run your own event? Here’s some of my tips!

If your event is not on here and you’d like it to be, let me know and I can add it :) Note: I will only add events that have announced dates!

JANUARY Screw Yule My Slashy Valentine @myslashyvalentine — work time Lord of the Rings Secret Santa @lotr-sesa — reveals Thorin’s Spring Forge @thorinsspringforge — signups Second Age Week @secondageweek

FEBRUARY Hidden Paths My Slashy Valentine — reveals Thorin’s Spring Forge — claims Maedhros and Maglor Week @maedhrosmaglorweek

MARCH Back to Middle-earth Month @spring-into-arda Thorin’s Spring Forge — work time Fëanorian Week Fun with Fanon Fest Round 1 @funwithfanon

APRIL Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang @tolkienrsb — signups Silm Remix @tolkienremix — signups & assignments Thorin’s Spring Forge — reveals Aralas Week @aralas-week Barduil Month @bi-widower-dads All of Arda is Autistic @all-of-arda-is-autistic F3: Focus on Friendship & Family, Phase I @spring-into-arda

MAY Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang — claims Silm Remix — reveals Aspec Arda Week @aspecardaweek Angbang Week @angbangweek Gondolin Week @gondolinweek F3: Focus on Friendship & Family, Phase II

JUNE Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang — work time Scribbles and Drabbles @fall-for-tolkien — signups Tolkien Ekphrasis Week @tolkienekphrasisweek F3: Focus on Friendship & Family, Phase III

JULY Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang — work time Scribbles and Drabbles — claims Tolkien Gen Week @tolkiengenweek LotR Ladies Week @lotrladiessource Tolkien Appreciation Week @tolkienweek Tolkien Latin American & Caribbean Week @tolkienlatamandcaribbeanweek

AUGUST Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang — deadlines Scribbles and Drabbles — art reveals Innumerable Stars Exchange @innumerable-stars — nominations & signups Tolkien of Colour Week @tolkienofcolourweek Silvergifting Week @silvergiftingweek Tolkien OC Week @tolkienocweek

SEPTEMBER Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang — reveals Scribbles and Drabbles — work time Innumerable Stars Exchange — signups & assignments Sindar Week @sindarweek Dor Cúarthol Week @dorcuartholweek Finwëan Ladies Week @finweanladiesweek

OCTOBER Innumerable Stars Exchange — reveals Scribbles and Drabbles — work time Half-elven Week @halfelvenweek

NOVEMBER Tolkien Secret Santa @officialtolkiensecretsanta — signups & assignments Scribbles and Drabbles — fic reveals Nolofinwean Week @nolofinweanweek

DECEMBER Tolkien Secret Santa — advent calendar & reveals My Slashy Valentine @myslashyvalentine — signups & assignments Lord of the Rings Secret Santa — claims Khazad Week @khazadweek

MONTHLY EVENTS: These events have prompts/challenges occurring every month. Teitho Contest Tolkien Short Fanworks Silmarillion Writers’ Guild @silmarillionwritersguild

(this list was last updated 5/4/23)

LEGACY EVENTS: These events used to occur, but have not happened within the last year. Arda Needs More Pride @ardaneedsmorepride (bimonthly; last run 2020) Kiliel Week @kilielweek (timing variable; last run 2021) @oneringnet monthly events (last run 2021) Atani Week @ataniweek (January; last run 2021) Legendarium Ladies April @legendariumladiesapril (April; last run 2020) Gates of Summer Exchange @gatesofsummerexchange (May-June, last run 2022) Tolkien South Asian Week, run by @arwenindomiel (June; last run 2022) Arafinwëan Week @arafinweanweek (July; last run 2019) Fëanturi Week (August; last run 2019; no official blog and the creator has deactivated) Imladrim Week @imladrimweek (November; last run 2019) Doriath Week @doriathweek (November; last run 2020) Tolkien Family Week @tolkienfamilyweek (November; last run 2021)

#tolkien #tolkien fandom #the silm #the silmarillion #silm fandom #silmarillion #silm #lotr #lord of the rings #lotr fandom #the hobbit #hobbit fandom #tefain nin #tolkien fandom event calendar #tolkien fandom events #save

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thepastisalreadywritten · 30 days

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Fabergé Eggs

Fabergé Eggs, perhaps considered one of the most famous examples of exquisite and luxurious craftsmanship to this day.

Fabergé eggs were originally commissioned by the Russian Imperial family in the late 1800s AD.

Tsar Alexander III (10 March 1845 – 1 November 1894) wanted a richly jeweled egg as an Easter gift for his wife, so Russian jeweler Peter Carl Fabergé (30 May [O.S. 18 May] 1846 – 24 September 1920) got to work and produced very first Fabergé egg in 1885 AD.

And like Easter eggs you may find hidden in your shrubs or gutters, these eggs were also intended to contain a surprise inside.

Initially, the first Fabergé egg was to contain a diamond ring, but after specific instructions given by the Emperor, the egg could be opened to find a ruby pendant instead.

Over the course of the next two decades, ten eggs were produced for the family during Alexander III’s reign, starting a dazzling tradition that his son Nicholas II (18 May [O.S. 6 May] 1868 – 17 July 1918) would carry on for his wife and his mother every Easter.

The popularity of eggs-travagant gifts spread well beyond the Imperial family, and soon, other wealthy families began commissioning their own eggs.

The eggs then began to represent great wealth and luxury that owning a Fabergé egg was considered a status symbol.

And with the skill level and time that it took to craft up just one Fabergé egg – up to one year per egg – it’s no surprise they come with such a high value.

The intricate Fabergé egg-making process began by creating a design for the egg and then the outer shell would start to come to life.

The team of goldsmiths would craft the eggs out of precious metals like gold or silver.

They were each decorated with intricate engravings, filigree work and other decorative elements.

And while his competitors used a standard palette, Fabergé wanted to experiment with more colors.

He created resplendent yellows, mauves, and all shades of greens — coming up with over one hundred and forty new colors.

Just as important as its exterior, the Fabergé egg’s interior was given just as much attention to detail.

A team of jewelers would work on creating a surprise to be hidden inside the bejeweled shell.

These surprises could be anything from miniature portraits of the recipients’ husbands to tiny replicas of famous landmarks.

The artists behind these miniature works of art were some of the best miniature painters, sculptors and engravers of that time who used a variety of material, including enamel, precious stones and even hair to create their work.

Finally, once all of the intricate pieces were complete, they were assembled by a team of skilled craftsmen to create the final product.

The egg was then presented to the recipient and would become a treasured family heirloom for years to come.

Unfortunately, the House of Fabergé was forced to close its doors during the Russian Revolution in 1917.

Fabergé and his family fled Russia.

Many of the Fabergé eggs were sold, lost or smuggled out of Russia during this time, but now, many of them are housed in museums like the famous Fabergé Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia.

However, history came full circle when in 2007, with new ownership and direction, the company announced the reunification of the brand with the Fabergé family.

This new chapter set the stage for a total revitalization of the Fabergé name and philosophy, which are in tune with its original values and spirit.

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gegengestalt · 1 year

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THE ENTIRETY OF THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV IN MSPAINT: Masterpost

One day in mid- July of 2022 I decided on a whim to illustrate the entirety of The Brothers Karamazov, every single chapter, using only MSPaint. And it took me until mid- May of 2023. Here I will link the entirety of the project.

BOOK I: The History of a Family

BOOK II: An Unfortunate Gathering

BOOK III: The Sensualists (Part 1)

BOOK III: The Sensualists (Part 2)

BOOK IV: Lacerations

BOOK V: Pro and Contra

BOOK VI: The Russian Monk / BOOK VII: Alyosha

BOOK VIII: Mitya

BOOK IX: The Preliminary Investigation

BOOK X: The Boys

BOOK XI: Brother Ivan Fyodorovich

BOOK XII: A Judicial Error (Part 1)

BOOK XII: A Judicial Error (Part 2) / EPILOGUE

#the brothers karamazov #making this to pin it for navigation's sake #tbk #dostoart

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thewales-family · 10 months

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The Duke and Duchess of Rothesay attend the National Service of Thanksgiving and Dedication for the Coronation of King Charles III and Queen Camilla, and the presentation of the Honours of Scotland, at St Giles' Cathedral in Edinburgh, Scotland -July 5th 2023.

#prince william #prince of wales #duke of rothesay #princess of wales #duchess of rothesay #british royal family #england #2023 #july 2023 #scotland #scotland 2023 #national service of thanksgiving #king charles iii's coronation #king charles iii and queen camilla's coronation #they're the cutest #my babies #the wales #my edit

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alyygx · 2 months

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Band of Brothers Easy Company Sorted Between Surviving and Not Surviving WWII: Part 1 of 2

Hey all! Here is part 1 of my big BoB post!!! I still have some work to do on part 2 but I will try to have it up as soon as I can. I hope you all find this useful and also a little bit interesting. I had so much fun doing the research for it. 🙂❤️

Enjoy!!! xoxo

Died During the War:

Company Commanders:

First Lieutenant Thomas Meehan III

Born: July 8th, 1921 (Philadelphia, PA)

Enlisted: March 16th, 1941 (Philadelphia, PA)

Died: June 6th, 1944/ D-Day (Normandy, France)

Age at Death: 22 years old

Cause of Death: Plane shot down and crashed after being hit by German anti-aircraft fire.

• His remains were finally returned to the U.S. in 1952 and he is currently buried at the Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery just south of St. Louis, Missouri

Awards/Medals:

• Parachutists Badge (aka Jump Wings)

• Combat Infantry Badge

• American Campaign Medal

• Purple Heart

• European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal (with 2 service stars)

• World War II Victory Medal

• French Liberation Medal

• Croix de guerre with palm

Wounded?: No (died before seeing any combat)

Family:

• Thomas Meehan II (Father)

• Marion Opp Meehan (Mother)

• Anne Shore (Wife)

• Barrie Meehan Meller (Daughter)

Non-commissioned Officers:

Sergeant Warren Harold "Skip" Muck

Born: January 31st, 1922 (Tonawanda, NY)

Enlisted: August 17th, 1942 (Buffalo, NY)

Died: January 10th, 1945 (Foy, Bastogne, Belgium)

Age at Death: 22 years old

Cause of Death: Killed when an artillery round hit his foxhole, shared with Alex Penkala, and exploded.

• Skip Muck is buried at the Luxembourg American Cemetery in Hamm, Luxembourg City, Luxembourg.

Awards/Medals:

• Parachutists Badge (aka Jump Wings) with 2 combat stars

• Combat Infantryman Badge

• Bronze Star

• Purple Heart

• Presidential Unit Citation (with one Oak Leaf Cluster)

• European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal (with 3 service stars and arrow device)

• World War II Victory Medal

• Army of Occupation Medal

• Croix de guerre with palm

• French Liberation Medal

• Belgian World War II Service Medal

Fought:

• D-Day/Battle of Normandy (Normandy, France)

• Operation Market Garden (Einhoven, Holland)

• Battle of the Bulge (Ardennes Forrest, Bastogne, Belgium)

Wounded?: Never wounded until KIA in Bastogne

Family:

• Elmer Julius Muck Sr. (Father)

• Loretta M. Muck (Mother)

• Elmer J. Muck Jr. (Older Brother)

• Ruth Muck (Younger Sister)

• Faye Tanner (Fiancée)

Enlisted Men:

Corporal Donald B. "Hoob" Hoobler

Born: June 28th, 1922 (Manchester, OH)

Enlisted: July 22nd, 1942 (Fort Thomas, KY)

• Joined the Ohio National Guard on October 15th, 1940 and served until October 1941.

Died: January 3rd, 1945 (Bastogne, Belgium)

• Don Hoobler is buried at Manchester IOOF Cemetery with his father (d. 1941), mother (d. 1976), and brother George (d. 1932).

Age at Death: 22 years old

Cause of Death: After acquiring a German Luger and placing the gun in his pocket the gun discharged due to the pressure of the multiple layers of clothing he was wearing and severed the femoral artery in his right leg. He bled out and died before he was able to be transported to an aid station.

Awards/Medals:

• Parachutists Badge (aka Jump Wings)

• Combat Infantryman Badge

• Purple Heart

• American Defense Medal

• European Theater of Operations Ribbon

Fought:

• Battle of Normandy/D-Day (Normandy, France)

• Operation Market Garden (Einhoven, Holland)

• Battle of the Bulge (Ardennes Forrest, Bastogne, Belgium)

Wounded?: No. Not until his fatal non-combat related gunshot wound to his leg in Bastogne.

Family:

• Sergeant Ralph Brenton Hoobler (Father)

• Kathryn Phyllis [Carrigan] Hoobler (Mother)

• John R. Hoobler (Brother)

• George B. Hoobler (Brother)

• Mary Kathryn [Hoobler] Lane (Sister)

Private First Class Alex Mike Penkala Jr.

Born: August 30th, 1924 (Niles, Michigan)

Drafted: February 27th, 1942 (Toledo, OH)

Died: January 10th, 1945 (Foy, Bastogne, Belgium)

Age at Death: 20 years old

Cause of Death: Killed when an artillery round hit his foxhole, shared with Skip Muck, and exploded.

• Alex Penkala is buried at the Luxembourg American Cemetery in Hamm, Luxembourg City, Luxembourg.

Awards/Medals:

• Parachutists Badge (aka Jump Wings)

• Combat Infantryman Badge

• Purple Heart

• Bronze Star

• American Campaign Medal

• European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal (with 3 service stars and arrowhead)

• World War Two Victory Medal

• Reconnaissance de la France Libérée

• Croix de guerre with palm

• Médaille commémorative de la Guerre

• Good Conduct Medal

Fought:

• Battle of Normandy/D-Day (Normandy, France)

• Operation Market Garden (Einhoven, Holland)

• Battle of the Bulge (Ardennes Forrest, Bastogne, Belgium)

Wounded?: Wounded by a mortar explosion in the arm in Bastogne.

Family: Alex Penkala's parents emigrated from Poland in 1906 and his father barely spoke English. All the Penkala children (including Alex) were fluent in Polish.

• Alexander Penkala Sr. (Father)

• Mary [Kinski] Penkala (Mother) *died in childbirth in 1927 delivering her 13th child

• Angela M. [Penkala] Sobczyk (Oldest Sister)

• Mary [Penkala] Setlak (2nd Oldest Sister)

• Helen E. [Penkala] Hawblitzel (3rd Oldest Sister)

• Matilda V. [Penkala] Budney (4th Oldest Sister)

• Genevieve A. [Penkala] Glujas (5th Oldest Sister)

• Edward F. Penkala (Oldest Brother)

• Clem J. Penkala (2nd Oldest Brother)

• Evelyn A. [Penkala] Tatay (6th Oldest Sister)

• Irene [Penkala] Lichatowich (7th Oldest Sister)

• Rose L. [Penkala] Kaczmarczyk (2nd Youngest Sister)

• Gertrude E. [Penkala] Picking (Youngest Sister)

• Sylvia (Girlfriend)

Survived the War:

Company Commanders:

Captain Herbert Maxwell Sobel

Born: January 26th, 1912 (Chicago, IL)

Enlisted: March, 7th 1941

Died: September 30th, 1987 (Waukegan, IL)

Age at Death: 75 years old

Cause of Death: Malnutrition

• In 1970 Sobal shot himself in the head in an attempted suicide. The bullet entered his temple and severed his optic nerve rendering him blind for the rest of his life.

• He died a Lieutenant Colonel; serving in both WWII & Korea

• Sobel was cremated after his death

• Sobel is buried at Montrose Cemetery-Crematorium in Chicago, IL

• No one attended his funeral

Awards/Medals:

• Parachutists Badge (aka Jump Wings)

• Combat Infantryman Badge

• Bronze Star Medal

• American Campaign Medal

• European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal

• World War II Victory Medal

• Croix de guerre (France)

Fought:

• Battle of Normandy/D-Day (Normandy, France)

• Operation Market Garden (Einhoven, Holland)

• Battle of the Bulge (Ardennes Forrest, Bastogne, Belgium)

Wounded?: No

After the War: Worked as a credit manager for a telephone equipment company in Chicago.

• Sobel was born into a Jewish family, his wife was devoutly Catholic. This was a major problem for his family.

• Sobel and his wife divorced sometime in the late 1960s and he became estranged from his family shortly after.

Family:

• Max H. Sobel (Father)

• Dora Friedman (Mother)

• Julian Sobel (Brother)

• Maxine Sobel (Brother)

• Ruth Sobel (Sister)

• Rose Sobel (Wife)

• Michael Sobel (Son)

• Herbert Sobel Jr. (Son)

• Rick Sobel (Son)

• 1 daughter (died a few days after birth)

Major Richard Davis "Dick" Winters

Born: January 21st, 1918 (New Holland, PA)

Enlisted: August 25th, 1941 (place unknown)

Died: January 2nd, 2011 (Campbelltown, PA)

Age at Death: 92 years old

Cause of Death: Parkinson's disease

• Dick is buried at Bergstrasse Evangelical Lutheran Church, Ephrata Township, PA and was laid to rest on January 8th, 2011.

Awards/Medals:

• Parachutists Badge (with 2 Combat Stars)

• Combat Infantryman Badge

• Medal of the City of Einhoven

• Distinguish Service Cross [The second highest medal awarded by the US Military]

• Bronze Star with one Oak Leaf Cluster

• Purple Heart

• Presidential Unit Citation with one Oak Leaf Cluster

• American Defense Medal

• National Defense Medal

• European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal

• World War II Victory Medal

• Army of Occupation Medal

• Croix de guerre with palm

• French Liberation Medal

• War Cross (Belgium) with palm

• Belgian World War II Medal

Fought:

• Battle of Normandy/D-Day (Normandy, France)

• Operation Market Garden (Einhoven, Holland)

• Battle of the Bulge (Ardennes Forrest, Bastogne, Belgium)

• Western Allied invasion of Germany

Wounded?: Took a ricochet sniper bullet to the leg in Carentan.

After the War: Became a production assistant at Nixon Nitration Works, a plastics adhesive factory, in Raritan, NJ

Family:

• Richard Winters (Father)

• Edith Winters (Mother)

• Beatrice Winters (Sister)

• Ann Sheehan (Younger Sister)

• Ethel Estoppey Winters (Wife)

• Richard T. Winters (Son)

• Jill Peckelun (Daughter)

First Lieutenant Frederick Theodore "Moose" Heyliger

Born: June 23rd, 1916 (Acton, MA)

Enlisted: November 25th, 1940

Died: November 3rd, 2001 (Concord, MA)

• Moose is buried in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery

Age at Death: 85 years old

Cause of Death: Stroke

Awards/Medals:

• Parachutists Badge (aka Jump Wings)

• Bronze Star

• Purple Heart

• American Campaign Medal

• European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal

• Military Cross

Fought:

• Battle of Normandy/D-Day (Normandy, France)

• Operation Market Garden (Einhoven, Holland)

Wounded?: Was accidentally shot by one of his own men (a replacement) on October 31st, 1944. His wounds caused him to need to undergo skin and nerve grafts. He was discharged from the army in February 1947 after being in military hospitals for nearly 3 years.

After the War: Worked as a salesman for landscape and agriculture chemical companies.

Family:

• Theodore Godet Heyliger (Father)

• Bertha Louise Heyliger (Mother)

• Johannes Almon Heyliger (Older Brother)

• Pauline Louise Heyliger (Older Sister)

• Howard Francis Heyliger (2nd Oldest Brother)

• Vic Heyliger (Younger Brother)

• Evelyn Davis (First Wife) [divorced early 1960s]

• Frederick Heyliger Jr. (Son)

• Diane Heyliger (Daughter)

• Mary Heyliger (Second Wife)

• Jon Heyliger (Son)

First Lieutenant Norman Staunton "Foxhole Norman" Dike Jr.

Born: May 19th, 1918 (Brooklyn, NY)

Enlisted: January 22nd, 1942

Died: June 23rd, 1989 (Rolle, Switzerland)

• Dike is buried at West Thompson Cemetery, Thompson Windham County, North Grosvenor Dale, Connecticut.

Age at Death: 71 years old

Cause of Death: "A long illness" is all the info I could find

Awards/Medals:

• Silver Star

• Bronze Star with Oak Leaf Cluster

• Purple Heart with Oak Leaf Cluster

• Order of Orange-Nassau Netherlands 2nd class

Fought:

• Operation Market Garden

• Battle of the Bulge

Wounded?: Shot in the right shoulder in Foy

After the War: Dike opened his own law practice in Switzerland

Family:

• Norman S. Dike Sr. (Father)

• Evelyn M. Biddle (Mother)

• Barbra Tredick Dimmick McIntire (Wife) (m. June 20th 1942 - divorced June 1946)

• Catherine Pochon (2nd Wife) (m. March 12th, 1957)

• Anthony Randolph Dike (Son)

• Robin Dike Auchincloss (Daughter)

• Barbra Matilda Dike (Daughter)

• Deborah Ann Dike (Daughter)

Captain Ronald Charles Speirs

Born: April 20th, 1920 (Edinburgh, United Kingdom)

Enlisted: April 11th 1942

Died: April 11th, 2007 (Saint Marie, Montana)

Age at Death: 86 years old

Cause of Death: Died suddenly; cause unknown

• Burial details unknown

Awards/Medals:

• Master Parachutist Badge with 4 combat jump devices (stars)

• Combat Infantry Badge 2nd Award

• Silver star

• Legion of Merit

• Bronze Star with 2 Oak Leaf Clusters

• Purple Heart with ne Oak Leaf Clusters

• Army Commendation Medal

• Presidential Unit Citation with one Oak Leaf Cluster

• American Campaign Medal

• European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal with four Service Stars and Arrowhead Device

• World War II Victory Medal

• Army of Occupation Medal

• National Defense Service Medal with Service Star

• Korean Service Medal with four Service Stars and Arrowhead Device

• Croix de Guerre with palm

• French Liberation Medal

• Republic of Korea Presidential Unit Citation

• United Nations Korea Medal

• Korean War Service Medal

Fought:

• Battle of Normandy/DDay

• Operation Market Garden

• Battle of the Bulge

Wounded?: Wounded by fire from an enemy machine gun in Rendijk, Holland

After the War: After WWII Spiers stayed in the army for 22 years and served in both the Korean and Cold Wars. Once out of the army Speirs served as the Governor of Spandau Prison (where Nazi war criminals were held).

Family:

• Robert Spiers (Father)

• Martha McNeil (Mother)

• Margaret Griffiths (Wife) (m. May 20th, 1944 - 1946) * Divorced bc she was British and didnt't want to move to America with him.

• Leonie Gertrude Hume Fritz (2nd Wife) (m. 1958)

• Ramona Dolores Pujol Strumph (3rd Wife) (m. 1987)

• Robert (Son from 1st wife)

Junior Officers:

Captain Lewis Nixon

Born: September 30th, 1918 (New York, NY)

Enlisted: January 14th, 1941 (Trenton, NJ)

Died: January 11th, 1995 (Los Angeles, CA)

Age at Death: 76 years old

Cause of Death: Complications from diabetes

• Lew is buried at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Hollywood Hills

Awards/Medals:

• Parachutist Badge (Jump Wings) with 3 combat stars

• Combat Infantyman Badge

• Purple Heart

• American Defense Medal

• European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Ribbion with 3 Battle Stars and a Bronze Arrowhead

• World War Two Victory Medal

• World Was Two Army of Occupation Award with Germany Clasp

• French Criox de Guerre (Cross of Valor)

• Presidential Unit Citation with Bronze Oak Leaf

• 5 Overseas Service Stripes

• Ruptured Duck Patch (WWII Discharge Patch)

Fought:

• Battle of Normandy/DDay

• Operation Market Garden

• Battle of the Bulge

• Operation Varsity

Wounded?: In the Netherlands he was hit by a bullet from a German MG 42 machine gun. The bullet went through his helmet, grazed his forehead, and left a burn mark.

After the War: Nix worked at his family's Nixon Nitration Works in Edison, New Jersey alongside his father and friend Dick Winters.

Family:

• Stanhope Wood Nixon (father)

• Doris Ryer Nixon (mother)

• Fletcher Ryer Nixon (brother)

• Blanche Nixon (sister)

• Katharine Page (1st Wife) (m. December 20th, 1941 - 1944)

• Irene Miller (2nd Wife) (m. June 1946 - 1962)

• Grace Umezawa (3rd Wife) (m. 1962)

• Michael Nixon (Son with 1st Wife)

First Lieutenant Lynn Davis "Buck" Compton

Born: December 31st, 1921 (Los Angeles, CA)

Enlisted: Was already ROTC (started 1940) when the war broke out (graduated in 1943 and assigned to the 176th Infantry Regiment)

Died: February 25th, 2012 (Burlington, WA)

Age at Death: 90 years old

Cause of Death: Complications from a heart attack he had in January 2012

• Buck was cremated after his death and his ashes were given to his family

Awards/Medals:

• Parachutist Badge (Jump Wings) with 2 jump stars

• Combat Infantryman Badge

• Silver Star

• Bronze Star

• Purple Heart

• Presidential Unit Citation with one Oak Leaf Cluster

• American Defense Service Medal

• American Campaign Medal

• European-African-Middle Eastern Campaign Medal with arrow device (airborne assult) and 3 campaign stars

• World War II Victory Medal

• Army of Occupation Medal

• French Croix de guere with palm

• French Liberation Medal

Fought:

• Battle of Normandy/DDay

• Operation Market Garden

• Battle of the Bulge

Wounded?: In 1944, during Operation Market Garden, Buck was shot in the backside. Then, in January 1945, Buck suffered severe battle fatigue after witnessing two close friends (Joe Toye and Bill Guarnere) badly wounded by artillery fire.

After the War: He attended Loyola Law School in Los Angeles and joined the LA Police Department in 1946 becoming a detective in the Central Burglary Division. He left the LAPD for the District Attorney's office in 1951 as a deputy district attorney. He was promoted in 1964 to chief deputy district attorney. In 1970, Governor Ronald Reagan appointed him an Associate Justice of the California Court of Appeal. He retired in 1990.

• (Fun Fact/Before the War) Buck played as the catcher on his college baseball team his junior year. One of his teammates was Jackie Robinson. Also, Bucks mother worked on movies and Buck was present on set with his mother and met actor Charlie Chaplin. Buck, being a child at the time, was so rowdy and disruptive that Charlie Chaplin kicked him off set.

Family:

• Roby Franks Compton (Father)

• Ethel Camille Compton (Mother)

• Geraldine Compton (1st Wife)

• Donna Faye Newman Compton (2nd Wife)

• Tracy Compton (adopted daughter w/ 2nd wife)

• Syndee Compton (adopted daughter w/ 2nd wife)

#band of brothers #thomas meehan #skip muck #donald hoobler #alex penkala #herbert sobel #dick winters #moose heyliger #norman dike #ronald speirs #lewis nixon #buck compton #part 1 #alyygx

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