#do i have to do everything around here myself??

[crowsofdarkness]

After weeks of arguing, you thought your relationship with Bucky was near the end. That was until you held something positive in your hand.

18+ CW's below the cut(angst, language, unprotected pinv in Bucky's computer chair, Bucky having a sudden breeding kink)

The door slamming in the small confines of my apartment echoed causing me to jump, doing whatever I could to keep the tears at bay. I wouldn't cry, not for him. Not for Bucky.  Even though the moment he walked in the door, all I wanted to do was cry not only because of the constant arguing but because I missed him terribly. He was here physically but emotionally, Bucky was checked out. 

"Asshole," I grumbled under my breath, eyes boring daggers into the closed door of his office/studio. 

It had been weeks of non stop fighting yet barely speaking to each other. He’d been gone on missions constantly so he could avoid being home. When I needed him the most, he was gone. 

Ignoring the thoughts plaguing my existence lately, I blew out a shaky breath and forced myself to turn back towards the kitchen counter.  The exhaustion had been buried deep in my bones for the last couple of weeks and I didn’t think it had anything to do with working almost every day. All I wanted to do was curl in bed to sleep the rest of the evening away. Even though Bucky's words from our fight this morning before I left for work kept pestering me. 

"I haven't thought much about the future. I'm trying to focus on getting myself better, mentally, before having kids." 

I asked him in the middle of yet another argument where he thought this relationship was going because I made the mistake of mentioning how I felt like things were stale between us. Bucky didn't think of the future. Of our future. He only thought of the now. 

It had been weeks of arguing. Weeks of walking on eggshells around each other. Weeks of not having sex. And weeks of keeping a secret to myself. Now that I knew how Bucky felt, I couldn't decide on if I should continue to keep it to myself or tell him which could potentially ruin everything. 

The urge to cry burned in my throat as I snatched the bag off of the kitchen counter and locked myself in the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a long moment, noting the dark circles under my eyes. 

Averting my gaze away from the mirror, I dug out the box from the bag and nearly choked on a breath when I read over the letters once more. I nearly dropped it in the pharmacy when the realization began to sink in. 

Pregnancy Test. 

I had missed my period last month and it was coming up on when I was supposed to get it this month but with how I’d been feeling, I knew I wouldn’t be getting my period this month either. 

That night was a night where we had a huge blowout argument, both of us questioning if we loved another. Deep down we knew we still loved each other and it was wrong for us to question it. But both of us were stubborn so instead of admitting our love, we decided to fuck out our frustrations; Bucky dragging me to the shower with him as I wrapped my legs around his midsection, marking his neck as mine while his cock slammed into me. Afterwards, Bucky helped me to our bed and apologized for the fight as he held me against his chest. I took the morning after pill later that afternoon once we realized we weren’t safe which is why I was hoping the test would be negative. Maybe the reason why I missed my period was because of all the stress I’d been under. 

“Might as well get this over with,” I grumbled under my breath while ripping open the box. 

It came with two tests and I figured it would be better if I used both so after peeing on both sticks, I set them on the counter and washed my hands. These next five minutes were going to be incredibly slow so after I changed into one of Bucky’s shirts and opted out of wearing pants, I paced the bathroom.

“Shit,” I clutched my chest when the timer on my phone went off. 

As I reached for the tests which were overturned, I paused for a moment wondering if maybe I should have been doing this with Bucky. 

“If he wasn’t such an asshole,” I muttered to the thought in my head and turned over the two tests. 

My heart was in my ears, in my throat, and in the depths of my stomach when I saw the one word that sealed our fate. 

Positive. 

Both tests were positive. 

“Fuck me,” I breathed while resting a hand on my stomach, the tears finally falling. 

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that even though we were fighting, Bucky would be fine with whatever I decided to do. It was my choice. But would he stay with me? The Avengers seemed to be all over the world, helping people who needed it, hence why Bucky had been in a mood lately. I knew his anger wasn't directly related to me but because he’d been overworked. I also knew that didn’t give him the right to take it out on me. 

Pulling up Bucky’s text thread on my phone, shaking fingers worked out a text even though he was still in the next room. 

Me: I need to talk to you. It’s important. Can you meet me in the living room please? 

Bucky 🩶: Not right now. 

With a snarl, I snatched the tests off the bathroom counter and stormed out into his office, letting the door smack against the wall. Bucky didn’t bother to look away from the book on his lap as he sat on his computer chair. 

“Congratulations. You’re going to be a father,” I snapped before turning to walk away. 

The chair creaked as Bucky leaned forward to gaze down at his desk, a soft breath catching in his throat. 

“Doll,” his vibranium fingers grazed my wrist, halting me. “Wait.” 

“What? Are you going to claim I’m faking this?” I snapped, slicing him with my gaze. 

“I-,” Bucky’s face softened as he looked back at the pregnancy tests. “You’re pregnant?” 

I let the anger fade momentarily when I heard the sincerity in his voice; the slight excitement. 

“Yeah, I guess so. I missed my period last month and I’ve been so exhausted lately. Not to mention my boobs have been really sore,” I cringed while running a hand over my chest. 

Bucky glanced up at my breasts with a small smirk but then he let his gaze lower on my stomach where it rested for a long few beats of silence. Fear of what he would do or say weighed heavy on my shoulders causing me to remain frozen in front of him. The air in the room was thick with an unreadable tension and the ringing in my ears was deafening. I couldn’t even hear our shared breathing as Bucky continued to stare at my stomach before his large hands rested there.

“Hi,” he breathed. “I’m your dad.”

I dragged a finger over his cheek, those ocean eyes I adored so much gazed up at me. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what, doll?” Bucky asked with furrowed brows. 

“For everything. For avoiding fixing things between us by working non stop.”

I rattled off which made him link fingers with me and brought me down onto his lap, both of us now sitting in his computer chair. He rested his hands over my hip, slowly raising up the hem of my shirt so he could drag calloused fingers over my skin. It was the most contact we’ve had in a week and I leaned farther into him. His nose dragged over my jaw, breathing me in. 

“I’m sorry for all of the hurtful things I’ve said. I’m sorry for ignoring your feelings when I should have asked you up front what was wrong. I’m sorry for locking myself away with work instead of fixing things between us,” Bucky apologized. 

I looked deeper into his eyes, taking in the slight freckles on his face. “Can I be honest?” 

When Bucky nodded, I continued. “You freaked me out when you said you never thought of our future and now that I’m pregnant, I’m worried you’re going to leave.” 

“Absolutely not,” he cupped my cheek, dragging his thumb just underneath my eye to wipe away the stray tears. “I’ve never thought about the future until you came into my life, doll. I might not express it enough, which is my fault but please know you’re in my future. Especially now.” 

His free hand grazed over my stomach and I nodded into the grasp on my cheek, leaving a kiss on the inside of his palm. 

“Can you promise me one thing?” I asked. 

“Anything.” 

Biting my lip, I spoke. “Can you promise not to propose to me just because I’m pregnant? I want you to propose because you want to, not because you feel like you have too.”

Something flashed in his eyes but Bucky eventually nodded. “Of course.”

While sitting on his lap, the chair continued to creak underneath our shared weight and I sighed, ready to get off which caused him to tighten his grip on me. 

“Stay,” he breathed in the crook of my neck. “I need to show you how sorry I am.” 

Quickly, Bucky’s lips were on mine in a leisurely kiss. It started off like how our first kiss did, like he was testing the waters again. I nearly sobbed into the kiss when I felt the love pour out of him. I’d been desperate to feel this way again. With his hands on my hips, he began moving me up and down his lap, the hardness of his cock pressing against the thin material of my panties. His name fell from my lips, almost immediately swallowed by his tongue as it explored my mouth; tasting me. 

Vibranium fingers slinked up my shirt to graze over my back before Bucky tossed it over my head and down to the floor, breaking our kiss. Lust bleed in his already dark eyes as he looked at my stomach, his cock straining in his jeans. 

“Shit,” he groaned while pressing kisses along my chest. “I can’t wait to see you round with my baby.” 

A moan fell from my lips as I exposed more of myself to Bucky, his teeth now grazing over my nipples. Along with my sore breasts, my nipples were extra sensitive. 

“Bucky,” I pulled on his shirt. 

He immediately understood and helped me work it off. Immediately my nails raked along his chest as my lips met his again in a fiery kiss, this one more intense than the last. With a gentle tap to my ass, I raised my hips slightly so Bucky could drag down my panties with a bit of maneuvering. However with his jeans, it would have taken way more manuerving on his part to slide them off completely. 

“We should move to the bed,” I suggested, breathless. 

Bucky shook his head, keeping his lips on the current mark he was working on my neck. “Absolutely not. I want you to sit on my cock while I sit on the chair.” 

Feeling feisty, I pulled away from him slightly to gaze down at him. “Really? This has nothing to do with Steve making it slip the other day how he and his girlfriend did something eerily similar to this.” 

He rolled his eyes with a groan. “Please don’t bring up Steve having sex right now.” 

When he motioned towards his unzipped jeans, I let out a soft giggle and then reached my hand in his briefs to grab his cock, already so warm and hard. 

“I’ve missed this,” I whispered, gathering his precum to drag it over his head. 

“Doll,” my name came out through gritted teeth as Bucky rested his head on my shoulder. “I need to be inside of you. Please.”

Pulling his cock out from his briefs completely, I dragged it between my folds a few strokes before sinking down on him; both of us letting out a loud groan of pleasure.  It had been so long since we’ve felt this so I knew we wouldn’t last long. 

“Fuck,” Bucky strangled out while wrapping his arms around me to bring me closer. “I can’t wait to watch your belly get round with my baby.”

I mewled in response, mouth busy with leaving dark marks across his neck while one of my hands slipped between our bodies to press circles on my clit, bringing me closer to the edge. 

His cock twitched inside of me, indicating he was close when his hips stilled. “You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my kid. Your belly and tits-oh shit." 

“Don’t stop,” I begged while riding him faster this time, the chair nearly falling over. 

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice was strained so I brushed away the hair from his sweat slicked forehead. “I’m going to fill you up over and over again.” 

I nodded as the coil in my stomach began to ignite in a blaze of ecstasy, my orgasm about to snap. 

“I love you,” I cried out when my body finally snapped, arousal coating Bucky’s cock. 

With one final thrust, he followed me over the edge as he filled me with his cum and breathlessly announced his love for me as well. Falling into him with exhaustion, Bucky lifted me from the chair and carried me through our apartment towards the bathroom. 

“Are you alright?” He questioned while still carrying me. 

I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay.”

Setting me on the closed toilet seat, he turned on the shower and removed his pants while we waited for the steam to bellow around us. 

[thatsmistertoyou]

maybe a hot take idk

look I know many people are upset about the pricing/fee situation of the TIT livestream (me included, I was pissed as hell that I got a large surprise fee), and I hope everything gets sorted out. I’m proud of the phandom for being loud and demanding fairness from the platform. you will not get shit past us.

I understand that. however, I completely disagree with some opinions I’ve seen (mainly on twitter but whatever) that charging for the stream at all is greedy, especially for people who have already paid to see the show. this is a weird take imo because this stream is supposed to be an opportunity for people who didn’t get to go to see it with an audience as a communal experience. but if you already spent money and don’t want to spend more, don’t!

and I don’t know anything about anything but based on the very little information dnp have provided about the cost of touring, I really don’t think they have the option to just do the stream for free. this is just my opinion, but based on how dan said he lost money touring WAD, i would not be surprised if the livestream paid for the rights he needed to release it for free on YouTube (and the extremely important rights to play All Star in the credits). just because he wrote and performed it doesn’t mean he owned it. it would not surprise me at all if the profits from the stream don’t go to dnp only.

and also, Things Cost Money, including livestreams. I think the platform has really showed their ass, but if we remove them from the equation for a second - everyone who put on TIT, including Dan and Phil, deserve to be compensated for their work. I don’t expect them to bleed money into this project forever just because it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I’m sure they’re doing just fine financially, but they are not and never have asked anyone to take food off their table to support them.

I actually find it really disheartening to see just how many people were like, legitimately, personally angry with dnp before they had even had a chance to respond to our concerns. I’ve been around long enough to remember when they announced TABINOF, there was an uproar about how they were sellouts because they were writing a book just like every other youtuber, making a shitty cashgrab when they had nothing to say. in the 2 days before we knew what the book would even be about, the Discourse had never been more annoying or mean spirited.

and it made me wonder, what are yall doing here if you assume the worst like that? have you just been waiting for the masks to slip? are you appalled that they participate in the heinous capitalistic act of selling their labor like everyone else? have your years of support not earned a little bit of grace when there’s a miscommunication?

I’m not saying approach everything like ‘they’ve never done anything wrong once in their whole lives and never will’, but the vitriol that seems to come out at minor fuck ups is alarming. some of yall do not like them and it shows. (I am looking directly at twitter dot com now)

I find that attitude really sad. after the TABINOF drama, I promised myself I’d never lose sleep over phandom nonsense again, so I’m going to bed, just had to get some thoughts out there. 💙

[starconstruction]

can you do a cheating creampie fanfiction with twice chaeyoung

Cheating in the Club

Twice Chaeyoung x Male Reader (Smut)

smut tags: pussy eating, creampie, frequent references to cheating.

Word Count:1533, not proofread

The night raged on as the pumping of EDM music pounded against your skull, a cup of liquor sat in your hand. You had very little intention of drinking all that much, coming here to try to get lucky. It's been a while since you last got laid so might as well shoot your shot.

You sat at a booth, dark black leather to help masquerade the inevitable stains of various liquids. The people on the rainbow dance floor mingled into a homogeneous ball, bodies grinding up against each other as they tried to dance together. Essentially just groping each other and rocking heads together.

A strange girl busted into the bar, a space case covered iPhone in her hand as she walked around. She was inaudible from here, an obvious look of frustration on her face as she yelled something at the device.

Her shouting continued as she came closer to you, eyes able to get a good view of her. Slick black hair done up in a ponytail with a thick face of make-up all dolled up, her dress exposed her collarbone, a silver chain laying on her smooth creamy skin painted a blue from the LEDs.

"Gooooood you are such a fucking buzz kill! Every time I invite you out you reject or you fucking flake! I'm going to enjoy myself then don't worry about it!" The woman yelled, putting her phone aggressively into her purse. She looked around, eyeing up for a person to harass.

Seems like that person was you, sliding into the seat across. She looked you up and down. "Wanna buy me a drink handsome?" She smiled, turning the seduction up to 11. Voice sweet as honey and felt equally as trapping.

The mudic shifted onto something much more intense, resonating in your bones. The woman in front of you awaited a response, "Sure." perhaps she was the one you were looking for. She beamed, waiting there while you went to buy her something.

You returned, her eyes locked onto the beverage as it slid over to you. "Whiskey ay? Not a horrible choice." She teased, taking a sip of her liquid fire. "Sounds like you had an amazing time on the phone over there." You remarked.

"Yeah it's my boyfriend I keep inviting him to places but he's always 'too busy' like what the fuck I'm your girlfriend I should have priority!" She ranted, not taking a single breath as she continued. "I offered him to come out and he said he was playing Hades?! What the fuck is Hades?!" She was irate, slamming half her drink in frustration. This girl was certainly interesting, it was only now she was inches away that you could see the finer details of her beauty.

Her face was divine, carved out in Aphrodite's image. Her nails were painted a sinfully tempting red and black, all dolled up for her boyfriend. "He sounds like a dick, but tell me more about you. You are the beauty in front of me right now." You asked, her cheeks blushed at your complement. "I'm Chaeyoung, what about you hot shot?"

"Y/N." You replied.

-

The time slipped through your fingers as you two talked, most of it was dragging her boyfriend for everything he has done. He honestly seemed okay, just a bit lazy.

Chaeyoung had a devilish look in her eyes, "I got all shaved and ready for him! Someone is going to enjoy it! What say you? Want to come back to mine?" A twinge of shame came over you, only for a second though as you immediately nodded. "Good. Let's get moving!"

-

The apartment heated up as you two entered through Chaeyoung's door. Hands around each other's head as your lips crashed. Tongues fighting in an intense dual for dominance with no clear winner, your leg found its way in between Chaeyoung's legs as it pressed against her crotch.

You two pulled an inch away, catching your breath as your lips laid on each other. Breathing her alcoholic breath as you went lightheaded. "Such a better kisser than him." She rasped, hand squeezing your hair as you two went back in. Your tongue fucked her mouth, entering and leaving her cavern as it dragged against her lips.

Your leg moved as your bodies rolled into each other, clothed cock pressing into her body as you dragged your tongue across her lips, the gentle taste of strawberry doing it's best to fight the whiskey. "T-take me to my bedroom, 2nd door on the left." She whimpered, you stopped your assault on her mouth in order to see. Hands locked together as you dragged her along.

Her bedroom was neat and ordered, well maintained as the white desk laid empty. The wall was covered in various kpop acts, but that was not what you were interested in. Throwing Chaeyoung against the plush bed as she gasped. "Ugh, do what my boyfriend won't! Eat me out please!" She begged, legs lifted up.

You were more than happy to oblige, hands finding the strings of her boots. Pulling them off one at a time as her thick legs came free, your lips kissed just above her feet. You were going to make her beg for you, the dress was an impossible task to remove. The fabric fighting against you as she laughed, "Give me a second." Chaeyoung showed her expertise, it fell to her whims and laid on the floor. Body hitting her bed once more as she laid in her skimpy undergarments.

You got comfortable between her legs, pulling her panties to her ankles as you laid inches from her pussy. "What do you want Chaeyoung? Use your words now." You teased, hands rubbing up her soft thighs. "I.. Want you to eat me till I cum!" She purred, legs locking firmly onto your shoulders. "Say please, don't forget your manners." You growled, your mouth brushing against her flesh. "Please! Please please please." She begged.

Your tongue lapped at her fleshy pink cunt, basking in her taste as your tongue flicked her crotch, "God that feels so good! Your tongue is so good." She shuddered with unadulterated ecstasy. You were getting drunk on her scent, mind hazy as you played with her inner parts. "You taste so good Chaeyoung, your boyfriend doesn't deserve this pussy." You murmured against her body.

"Yeah! It's yours, all yours." She cried out, enjoying your tongue in her slippery folds. Hands grasping your hair as they pushed you further in, grinding your lips against hers. You found her clit, softly rubbing it while you sucked on her pussy. "Fuck! Jesus christ!" She responded to your actions. "Fuck fuck!" Her moans grew sharper, "I'm cumming god fuck!" She released on your tongue, screaming as Chaeyoung's body flushed a scorching red.

Her hand let you go, your wet face backing out of her legs. Chaeyoung's face was completely red, forehead saturated in sweat. "Fuck.. I've never came like that." She choked out, "Want me to return the favor?" She asked, her lips seemed inviting but you needed to fuck her now.

"No, I need to be in this cunt now." You growled, aiming you against her. Tip pressing into her hole as you sunk in slowly, pushing into her body. "Oh! You feel so big, way bigger than him!" She complemented you, inch by inch fell into her coaxing hole. Bottoming out as your crotches touched each other, firmly buried in Chaeyoung's cunt.

"I'm going to fuck this cunt! Make you forget that stupid boyfriend!" You yelled possessively, starting a consistent rhythm as hips slammed into her, "Fuck.. Fuck me hard!" She begged, each thrust becoming a harsh slap. Your hands kneaded Chaeyoung's pillowly asscheeks, squeezing the flesh as you thrusted. "Such a perfect body.." You let out involuntarily, Chaeyoung's eyes were screwed shut in pleasure.

"Yes! Fuck me!" Chaeyoung let out, unable to stay quiet as you kept pounding her sinful body, both of you were transfixed in each other's presence. Full of lust as you two leaked expletives with every in and out. "I'm gonna cum! Cum harder than he could make me!" Her words spurred you on, the rhythm once maintained completely fell apart. Irregular slams as you got closer to the pinnacle of her pleasure. "Fuck!" She screamed, tightening around you as she came undone.

You kept going while she rode out her high, "Chaeyoung.. I'm going to cum!" You yelped, thrusts even more desperate as you rode your own high. "Cum! Deep inside my body, claim it!" She demanded, you filled her walls with your desperate cum. Buried in tight as it shoots deep inside, shared guttural moans ripped through your mouths as Chaeyoung accepted your load.

You two laid entangled, cock rubbing against her inner thigh as your cum leaked into the blanket. "Go get my phone." She asked, you quickly left and returned, her legs laid spread out as her fingers showed her leaking cunt. "Take a picture, do the honours, he can see what he missed." A bright flash shot through the room as you took a picture.

Chaeyoung smirked as the phone hit the bed. "Come, let's go another round."

[trashsuit]

Fuck y'all, I'm answering all of these right here, right now (if you want me to elaborate, put it in my asks)

1. River (I go by my middle name online)

2. 17, turning 18 in a few months

3. June 9 2007

4. Gemini

5. Light purple

6. 3 and 82

7. Yes, 3 cats. A calico (I think) named Millie, a light brown tortie named Marley, and a dark brown tortie named Mischief

8. Pennsylvania

9. 5'4

10. 9

11. Idk, 5-10 if I had to guess

12. I can't remember any of my dreams

13. Uh, I have talents in most of the arts, I think. I act, I sing, I play piano and guitar, and I draw and paint

14. I don't think so

15. Changes every week. Right now? Maybe Hug All Ur Friends by Cavetown

16. I don't really watch many movies, but probably Wicked

17. I'm aroace, but I'd love to live with a good friend who doesn't mind stuff like hugs and cuddles

18. Absolutely not

19. Even if I wasn't aroace, no

20. No

21. I got brain surgery when I was a few months old, but nothing since then

22. Not yet :3

23. Uh, does the actor who played The Wizard when I saw Wicked on Broadway count?

24. I prefer showers for actually cleaning myself, but I love a nice, relaxing bath

25. All of the above

26. No

27. Probably not, but I'd like to be the kind of celebrity who's only known by theatre kids and just about no one else

28. I listen to a lot of musical theatre and indie pop

29. No

30. 2, not counting stuffed animals

31. Yearner or free faller with one leg over my long stuffed animal

32. Medium, I think

33. Pillsbury strawberry cream cheese mini bagels that my school serves

34. No

35. No, but I want to

36. Skedaddle

37. Ass is one of my favorite insults

38. No clue, I usually take a lot of naps

39. Yes, across the top of my head

40. Yes I think, but his friend just tried to wingman for him, like, twice, then I was left alone

41. It depends on the lie and who I'm lying to

42. Fuck no, I don't realize people are hurting me until I'm bleeding out.

43. Yeah, I've learned through my acting class

44. I don't think so, but I've also never really left the area I grew up in enough to notice

45. I like doing a southern drawl

46. Idk what the personality types are and I don't feel like checking rn

47. By far my prom dress from last year. Most of my clothes are thrifted or from Walmart

48. Yes

49. What?

50. Right

51. Yes

52. My mom makes really good potato pancakes

53. Idk what it was called, but I had it in Japan. It was some meatballs with veggies and a really good sauce. Here's a picture (it's the stuff by the eggs)

54. Definitely messy

55. You freak/y'all freaks

56. Either fuck or freak, tbh

57. 10-15 minutes most days (if that)

58. I don't think so

59. Suck

60. Yes

61. Yes

62. I'm alright, but I'm improving with the help of a teacher

63. Probably my best friend leaving me. She's the reason I've stuck around this long, idk what I would do without her

64. Yeah

65. I genuinely can't think of one

66. I like my hair nice and short

67. *sings the 50 states song*

68. Art or history (my favorite class I take is actually theatre, but I don't think it counts)

69. It feels like it depends on the day and who I'm around

70. No

71. Almost everything, if I'm being honest (except for acting, alone or in front of a crowd)

72. Not really

73. Not really, I don't even correct people on my pronouns (I probably should tho)

74. I don't think I am

75. I don't think so, usually if I say something, I genuinely believe it, so if I did, it wasn't intentional

76. No and I don't wanna be

77. Like one sip of wine and I thought it was disgusting

78. No

79. I'm aroace, so no one

80. I have both of my earlobes pierced once and nothing else

81. Yeah

82. Not very, I'm faster on my phone than on an actual keyboard tho

83. In short bursts, like 7 mph, but I can't run a mile, I have to walk

84. Naturally, dark brown, but right now it's blue with streaks of purple

85. Hazel

86. Bactrim and possibly the sticky stuff in bandaids (I think it's latex)

87. I've tried and failed multiple times

88. My dad's a truck driver

89. It's alright, I mostly like it for theatre stuff

90. Id have to think. I'm easily annoyed or frustrated, but it takes a lot to piss me off

91. Yeah, though I kinda regret choosing such a common name. I know, like, 6 other people with my name

92. No

93. Idk, probably just a happy, healthy kid if I ever had one. I don't really care about its sex

94. Seeing the good in people

95. How trusting I am and how I try to see the good in people (that's how I keep getting hurt)

96. I kept going through baby name sites and for some reason, I really liked this one

97. No

98. Yeah, from ear to ear on top of my head

99. All of the above

100. The walls are a very light purple, but you'll find every color in there

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP AHHHH

1. What is you middle name? 2. How old are you? 3. When is your birthday? 4. What is your zodiac sign? 5. What is your favorite color? 6. What’s your lucky number? 7. Do you have any pets? 8. Where are you from? 9. How tall are you? 10. What shoe size are you? 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 12. What was your last dream about? 13. What talents do you have? 14. Are you psychic in any way? 15. Favorite song? 16. Favorite movie? 17. Who would be your ideal partner? 18. Do you want children? 19. Do you want a church wedding? 20. Are you religious? 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? 24. Baths or showers? 25. What color socks are you wearing? 26. Have you ever been famous? 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? 28. What type of music do you like? 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 31. What position do you usually sleep in? 32. How big is your house? 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? 34. Have you ever fired a gun? 35. Have you ever tried archery? 36. Favorite clean word? 37. Favorite swear word? 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 39. Do you have any scars? 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? 41. Are you a good liar? 42. Are you a good judge of character? 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? 44. Do you have a strong accent? 45. What is your favorite accent? 46. What is your personality type? 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? 48. Can you curl your tongue? 49. Are you an innie or an outie? 50. Left or right handed? 51. Are you scared of spiders? 52. Favorite food? 53. Favorite foreign food? 54. Are you a clean or messy person? 55. Most used phrased? 56. Most used word? 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 58. Do you have much of an ego? 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? 60. Do you talk to yourself? 61. Do you sing to yourself? 62. Are you a good singer? 63. Biggest Fear? 64. Are you a gossip? 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? 66. Do you like long or short hair? 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? 68. Favorite school subject? 69. Extrovert or Introvert? 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? 71. What makes you nervous? 72. Are you scared of the dark? 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? 74. Are you ticklish? 75. Have you ever started a rumor? 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? 77. Have you ever drank underage? 78. Have you ever done drugs? 79. Who was your first real crush? 80. How many piercings do you have? 81. Can you roll your Rs?“ 82. How fast can you type? 83. How fast can you run? 84. What color is your hair? 85. What color is your eyes? 86. What are you allergic to? 87. Do you keep a journal? 88. What do your parents do? 89. Do you like your age? 90. What makes you angry? 91. Do you like your own name? 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? 94. What are you strengths? 95. What are your weaknesses? 96. How did you get your name? 97. Were your ancestors royalty? 98. Do you have any scars? 99. Color of your bedspread? 100. Color of your room?

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 20: The One Where We Take a Course in Rear Window Ethics

Oh, hey, hey – you’re back!

Yes. I, uh – we need to – uh... What the hell are you doing with that Exakta VX camera fitted with a 400 mm Kilfitt lens?

Come here. See those open windows across the courtyard?

Uh, yeah…

Well, I’m trying to zoom into that apartment –

Wow. Because that’s not creepy as fuck.

Oh, don’t be so modern. This is New York City, 1954. It’s fine.

Yeah, okay. I need you to focus for a moment. Seriously – put down the zoom lens. Headquarters called and wanted to know why Dorothy was still in Oz. You know we were told to take her home.

No – actually we were told to throw stones at that wannabe Wizard. And we did. Kind of. Okay, whatever, but surely you can feel the shift. At the very least we’ve infiltrated the base camp with a bunch of flying monkeys. They’ll take care of the rest. God, there’s one in there –

And we were supposed to help Dorothy find her way back home.

Meh, don’t worry about Dorothy. I don’t think she’s ready to go home. Even after the ping-pong bullshit of the past few weeks, she’s still standing on her own two feet. Although Toto continues to be a mild pain…

But –

But nothing. Dorothy’s had the power to get her own ass home this entire time. When’s she’s ready, she’ll go.

Okay, well, obviously you’re not going to be of any help as you seem preoccupied with spying on your neighbors. So, I’m going to need to borrow the hot air balloon. Where’d you put it?

Oh, it’s on the—wait! If you take our balloon, how am I supposed to get around? I’m not staying here indefinitely. There’s no air conditioning in this damn apartment!

How about I promise to come back for you? Maybe.

Damn you. Fine, I’ll go with you. Let me get my shit together. Here, hold my camera – and don’t drop it!

Hmph, this is heavy. How does it work? I just look through this and… <points camera towards apartment across the way> Oh – this is interesting. What the hell did you say was going on over there? “…[S]tart from the beginning…Tell me everything you saw – and what you think it means.”

You know those days when you have no choice but to catch up on the work you’ve been blowing off for the past few days (maybe even weeks)? Well, last week, I was having one of those days. The work I’d been pushing down my list for weeks finally needed to be addressed. Regardless of how mind-numbing it was, it had to get done otherwise things were going to start going awry.

I’m one of those people who – when working on the mundane – has a mind that tends to wander every few minutes or so. I find myself Googling things like, “What is the fastest animal on the planet?” And, for your own Useless Knowledge, the cheetah’s land speed of 60+ mph doesn’t come close to the peregrine falcon’s dive bomb of 240+ mph.

Anyway, to keep my mind from wandering, I usually have something running in the background to force my brain into paying attention to two things at once – somehow that helps me maintain focus. The most popular “something” is almost always one of the many (quite possibly too many) British detective shows available for streaming. But, the other day, I simply wasn’t in the mood to rewatch Season 3 of “Dalgliesh” for the seventh time.

So, after a bit of scrolling, I put on an old movie I hadn’t seen in years: “Rear Window.”

The 1954 original, of course.

I’m rarely impressed by anything put out by Modern Hollywood, but the old shit – well, there are some legit classics out there, including this one.

One of the reasons I’ve always been fond of this movie is because you go into it knowing the “bad guy” right from the word “go.” I’m one of those extremely annoying people who can guess the villain within the first few chapters of a book, or within the first twenty or so minutes of a movie (like I said, I am rarely impressed by Hollywood). However, I will admit, one book did slip by me. Damn you, Agatha Christie. Honestly, though, the thrill I felt with being wrong was far more memorable than anything I’ve ever felt with being right. Good or bad, a surprise always leaves its imprint, doesn’t it? Plus, the hysterical elation my father must have felt – and later exhibited – knowing I was going into the final few chapters wrong – well, damn him, too. And, no, the book was not “Three Act Tragedy.” That one was quite easy.

Okay, enough about Ms. Christie. Back to Mr. Hitchcock.

As I sat busily typing away and listening to the dialogue of “Rear Window” playing in the far reaches of my office, it suddenly occurred to me that the parallels between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom were rather, well, thought-provoking. Here we have a man (and later his sidekicks) peering into the personal life of another human being. Our protagonist in “Rear Window” witnesses an event (a cover-up, actually) and sets out to prove it – all from the perspective of an onlooker looking in. Sound familiar? I thought it might.

So, welcome to your course on “Rear Window Ethics.”

Now, I cannot intertwine “Rear Window” with the Lukola fandom without dragging your ass into the story. Actually, I could – but it’s far more entertaining for me (and hopefully you) if I form a nexus between you and the movie.

Therefore, you, of course, get to align yourself with L.B. Jefferies (played in real life by Jimmy Stewart). If you’re still in this fandom, it’s because you’ve witnessed something you simply cannot ignore and you’re almost certainly hellbent on proving it at this point.

It’s very likely most of you entered the Lukola fandom alone. You watched some portion of the World Tour and became intrigued. Your mind began to wander, which sparked some urge in you to do some digging. Eventually your investigation led you to the Devil – sorry, I mean, social media. There you met like-minded junior investigators, and you’ve now found yourself chatting with these newfound friends and theorizing in the burrows of underground group chats.

So, about your sidekicks…

The part of “Stell-aaaaaa!!!!” (yes, that is my hat-tip to Jake) is given to your most “inventive” Lukola friend. You know, the one that has their own “theories” channel in your private chats; the one who scurries down the rabbit hole – not in search of the White Rabbit – but in search of the Cheshire Cat. Stella is the reason you think outside the box. In “Rear Window,” Stella (played by Thelma Ritter) is Jefferies’ nurse (Jefferies is injured and bound to his apartment; hence why he has so much free time to gaze out the rear window). This friend will throw anything and everything against the wall to see what sticks – even if it occasionally takes a deep-dive into how to cut up a body in a bathtub.

Next, we have Detective Doyle, Jefferies’ long-time friend (played by Wendell Corey). Doyle is quite possibly your spouse, haha, or anyone who side-eyes your involvement with this fandom. Doyle half listens to Jefferies’ theories and usually counters Jefferies with an alternative piece of evidence. But don’t fret, although Doyle teases Jefferies about his wild theories throughout the film, Doyle is, in fact, supportive of Jefferies and does comes around in the end.

I’m going to switch gears for a moment but not before acknowledging that, yes, I am aware I’m missing a player here. Don’t worry – she will arrive shortly.

Alright, on to our subject matter: Lars Thorwald.

Thorwald (played by Raymond Burr) is our straight-outta-Hitchcock-baddie who has been spotted by Jefferies trying to cover up the murder of his wife. The obvious parallels I’m going to draw between “Rear Window” and the Lukola fandom are (1) Thorwald’s crime being equivalent to the World Tour and everything that has happened thereafter, and (2) Jefferies’ obsession with proving Thorwald is guilty being comparable to the fandom’s obsession with proving Lukola is real.

Now, I’m going to get the ball rolling by fast-forwarding through the World Tour all the way up to where I last left you – the post-release of “Mis-Directed.” Recall that shortly before the book’s release, in a surprise turn of events, Luke appeared with Antonia at the Boss event held January 30. However, this was almost immediately negated by Luke snubbing Antonia post-event (and perhaps even more shockingly, Antonia’s mirrored lack of acknowledgement of Luke). And try as Nicola might, there’s no skirting around the innuendo made throughout that fan-fic of a book.

“Watson! Get up! There’s fuckery afoot!”

Who the hell are you?

I’m Dad. Who are you?

Ah, not that guy!

Yes, that guy. Of course, Dad has entered the room. After all I needed someone to fill the role of Lisa Fremont (also known as Grace Kelly). Lisa is your Lukola friend with the highest degree of common sense. She takes the “evidence” presented and looks at it with some realism. She is never going to take the Dwight Shrute Route and state something as “Fact,” but she is the one you rely on to delineate between what makes sense and what doesn’t. In short, this is your friend who understands human nature.

Alright, before I really get this ball rolling –

Since I’ve now added a third wheel (Dad) to the back-and-forth dialogue of my two wizard-chasing-balloon-riding-time-traveling-narrators, I suppose I should also give these two imbeciles names.

You first.

Uh, well, I’m Charley and that’s –

I’m Crowd.

Full credit for these two make-believe idiots is given to my dad. He created the personas of “Charley and the Crowd” for my two nieces a few years ago. They would show him their dolls and my dad would narrate what was going on in their stories. Of course, my nieces regularly corrected him with, “No, Papá, that is not what Barbie is doing!” Still, Charley and the Crowd stuck around, playing the role of two, usually counter-productive and sometimes ignored, news anchors at a Macy’s Day Parade-like event hosted by my nieces’ massive collection of L.O.L. Dolls.

And just for clarity’s sake, during the dialogue between Charley, Crowd, and Dad, actual statements made by Dad will be in quotations. Any statement not in quotations was added simply to move the story along.

Let’s begin (finally).

In “Rear Window,” every time Jefferies and his sidekicks present their findings to Detective Doyle attempting to prove Thorwald’s guilt, they are thwarted by evidence discovered by Doyle’s investigation. It’s a constant back-and-forth throughout the movie; however, regardless of how “solid” Doyle’s evidence is that Anna Thorwald is still alive, Jefferies remains sat on the hill that Thorwald killed his wife. It was this parallel – not the peeping Tom aspect of the movie – that piqued my interest last week. No matter what was thrown at him, Jefferies remained steadfast in his opinion Thorwald murdered his wife. Nothing budged him. I realized Jefferies’ level of resilience mirrored every diehard Lukola’s reaction to every piece of contradictory evidence thrown at them. Nothing budges them.

The tail-end of January and all of February was a bit wild in the Lukola fandom. I mean, there were a lot of narratives being thrown around only to be counteracted by another event. As I mentioned earlier, we ended January with the Boss event but that flame was quickly extinguished by Luke and Antonia’s complete lack of follow-up. Luke had the perfect opportunity to make it “official” with Antonia – to finally shut down the Lukola shippers – but he didn’t.

Crowd: Antonia not doing anything with it is the biggest tell, in my opinion.

I’m not going to spend much time rehashing the Boss event because I already discussed it in Entry 18 (link below), but I will touch on two things that I believe deserve an Honorable Mention.

The first being –

Charley: Why didn’t Antonia have her phone or even a handbag at the Boss event?

I mention this little detail because it was echoed at the BAFTA afterparty Luke attended with Antonia on February 16. In fact, I suspect this may be the modus operandi when Antonia attends an event with Luke – she is not given the opportunity to have a phone with her. One would think, at the very least, you would see Antonia entering and/or leaving an event with some kind of handbag or clutch. But we have pictures of Antonia entering both the Boss event and BAFTA afterparty without one. I will acknowledge we don’t see her leave these two events; however, if we rewind time, Antonia does not have a handbag with her during Papsmear.

Dad: “Well, that’s extremely odd.”

I don’t believe I’ve mentioned it before – at least not on this blog – that my dad has an eye for women’s fashion. My sisters and I grew up under his critical eye and, to this day, my father doesn’t know where he went wrong with my older sister. This is entirely why he was given the part of Lisa Fremont, the movie’s style icon in the form of Grace Kelly. The fact that Antonia is never seen with any type of handbag at these events sparked his interest.

Dad: “[It seems] they [at a minimum Luke] wanted complete control [of what Antonia could take away from the event]. No handbag. Nowhere to hide a phone. No rogue pictures floating about.”

Charley: Yes, it does seem that way.

The second event I wanted to mention was – although neither Luke nor Antonia liked the Boss grid post of the two of them entering that event together – Nicola did. Now, this wasn’t an immediate like. In fact, Nicola waited almost two weeks to like the post, on February 12.

Crowd: The day before Nicola went back and liked that post, that video was being dissected across social media.

Dad: Why?

Charley: Because it was suggested Luke said, “Let’s get this done,” as he walked inside the event with Antonia.

Dad: “I don’t hear shit.”

I will admit, when this video was initially sent to me, I didn’t hear anything except the background noise. However, when I was told what was allegedly being said, I was able to hear it. This very well could be the power of suggestion but the timing of Nicola’s like on this post is, at a minimum, noteworthy.

Once we leave the Boss event, we stumble right into “Mis-Directed.” I’ll post the links to my review of that book at the end. It is what it is – and it’s a whole lot of…umm, yeah…maybe Dad said it best.

Dad: “Either your Lukola thing is real, or Ireland is a psychopath.”

Crowd: Seriously, who let this guy in here?

I’m going to have to hard agree with my dad on this one. Not necessarily about Nicola being a “psychopath,” but the references made in the book are too on the nose for it not to be intentionally Lukola- and/or Polin-coded.

I’m also convinced this book was edited after the World Tour, with the most obvious example of this being demonstrated with the quote: “The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.” If our duo is to be believed, Luke and Nicola had no idea prior to the World Tour that the fandom would go wild over Colin’s fingers. But after the release of Part 1, any mention of “two raised fingers” would send the fandom into a feeding frenzy. And it’s such an extremely random bit of innuendo, I have trouble believing the author came up with it on her own.

Charley: When you think about it, if Antonia hadn’t shown up at the Boss event, the Lukola fandom would have taken the book as confirmation that Lukola was real.

Indeed, a hefty portion of the fandom would have done just that. The fandom was already convinced that Luke and Nicola spent the holidays together – even without direct evidence – because there was evidence that Luke and Nicola did not spend the holidays with Antonia and Jake, respectively.

Antonia appeared to be with family at Christmas and in the Maldives over New Year’s – without making even the slightest insinuation that Luke was with her.

Jake seemingly spent the holidays with Dylan B., as demonstrated by his pre-Christmas stories with Dylan in their (basically) adjacent hometowns – without Nicola, who, by her own account, was in Galway. Jake and Dylan’s Christmas stories were followed up with their jointly hosted New Year’s Eve party – at which Nicola was not present (as evidenced by Nicola’s comment to an attendee’s New Year’s Eve post: “Have the best night miss yous”).

Dad: “It is weird they [Nicola and Jake / Luke and Antonia] wouldn’t spend any of the holidays together. One? Sure, maybe. But all? No.”

But, even with that statement, my dad chose to play the role of Detective Doyle (a/k/a the Devil’s Advocate of “Rear Window”) regarding the holidays because –

Dad: “Misty [Antonia] was with her dance troupe. Jake was with his friends. Ireland was doing her thing. But no one knows where Thang [Luke] was. Everyone else has a trail except him, which is odd. He could have been with Ireland, but you can’t prove it, so what you have is not really evidence.”

Charley: Thanks, Dad.

But, let’s face it, my dad is right. There’s no solid evidence that Luke and Nicola spent their holidays with each other or anyone else. You can apply the same theory to the birthdays. The only “evidence” we have that two people did not spend a birthday together was Jake posting a belated birthday greeting to Nicola followed by Nicola posting what appeared to be an intimate birthday dinner for two, presumably from the night before. We can surmise Nicola’s birthday date was not Jake, otherwise he would not have posted the late greeting.

About Jake’s birthday –

Crowd: Oh, yeah, “hard launch No. 54” because Nicola used a red heart in her birthday story to him.

Charley: You mean the same one she used in a story for another friend just the other day?

Crowed: Yep.

Dad: “I don’t know what to say about those people [the Jakolas]. They need to resubmerge or something. There’s no relationship there [between Jake and Nicola].”

The Jakolas are banking this “hard launch” on the fact Nicola posted a birthday story for Jake, but not for Luke, and vice versa. These are the same people who will argue that Luke and Antonia not posting about each other’s birthdays is because they’re private – but, in the same breath, refuse to acknowledge Luke and Nicola may not post about each other’s birthdays because they’re private.

I believe it’s worth mentioning that no one from the Bridgerton cast except James Phoon posted about Nicola’s birthday on January 9. When Nicola acknowledged her birthday greetings the day after, she did not repost Phoon’s story nor did she repost fan-favorite JVN’s birthday story. And I should have placed bets on this next part – no one from the Bridgerton cast posted about Luke’s birthday on February 5. Surely, I’m not the only person who saw – and anticipated – the comraderie there.

What the Jakolas should have been focusing on with Jake’s birthday was the fact that it was Dylan and Becky’s boyfriend that were wearing matching “Jecky” shirts at their joint birthday party. No one else had that shirt except for the two people believed to be their significant others. Although I’m not fully convinced Jake is dating Dylan, I am one hundred percent convinced Jake would date Dylan over Nicola.

Charley: What’s next?

Crowd: God, there was so much shit going on in February! Uhh, let’s jump to Valentine’s Day. Nicola attended the IFTA’s with her mother and sister, and Luke attended a GQ dinner event alone.

This holiday follows in the same vein as the previously noted holidays, except it’s Nicola and (amazingly!) Luke that are both accounted for. Jake was presumed to be in Sheffield rehearsing for his play; and Antonia was nowhere to be found, not even at the GQ dinner.

However, Antonia does make a brief reappearance at a BAFTA afterparty alongside Luke on February 16.

Crowd: But it was a repeat of the Boss event. The next day, neither acknowledged the other.

Charley: And Luke was reported to have left the party after only an hour – without Antonia. He even posted a picture of himself getting into a car alone.

Dad: To me, “[i]t seems like Thang took his dog [Antonia] for a walk and left her at the dog park.”

Two days later, Luke – actually out for a walk – is papped getting coffee, alone. Is it horrible of me to say that the most exciting thing about these pictures was the untucked versus tucked shirt? I’m not even sure why I’m taking the time to mention this except I felt there would be some side-eye if I did not.

And to be honest, I’ve left out some details and minor events from the months of January and February because, if I were to add them, this post would be twice as long as it already is. For example, don’t get me started on sunburns, tan lines, and “sunny places.”

If we were in the movie, “Rear Window,” everything stated up until this point would run parallel to the back-and-forth between Detective Doyle and our Trio of Peeping Toms. Evidence is presented by the Trio, which is then countered by Doyle. Doyle’s evidence is dismissed by the Trio because, again, they’re hellbent on proving their case, so they continue theorizing and digging into Thorwald. All that leads up to the movie’s climax.

Charley: Have we finally made it to the SAG?

Crowd: Yes, yes, we have.

Charley: Dad – Dad – wake up!

Dad: Huh?

Alright, the fucking SAG awards. This would be about the point in “Rear Window” where Lisa gets caught by Thorwald rifling through his belongings in search of evidence. We’re in the audience biting our nails because Jefferies can’t do a damn thing to help Lisa except watch everything unfold. And that’s what we did with the SAG awards. The entire Lukola fandom was hyper-focused on Luke and Nicola – and they did not disappoint.

Forget all the drama we endured from the sideshow characters and the nonsense that came with them.

Forget Luke being AWOL for six months.

Forget everything except the “hug heard ‘round the world.”

The ice was broken; the champagne was flowing. Luke and Nicola’s joint SAG appearance was like the World Tour on steroids.

Dad: Can I say something?

Crowd: Fuck. What?

Dad: “It was their season, right? So, their joint appearance on the red carpet wasn’t earth shattering. Neither was them sitting together. It was their night to celebrate.”

Crowd: Who invited this wet blanket to the party?

Dad: I wasn’t done. “Their season has run its course, right? They’ve ‘graduated.’ So why are they the focus of mainstream media?”

Charley: <thinking> Because there’s something newsworthy there?

That is your climax. Not their SAG appearance – because everyone can have their own interpretation of Luke and Nicola’s behavior and those interviewers’ Q&A’s – it was the mainstream media going ga-ga over Luke and Nicola that sent the Lukola narrative tumbling out the window. If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll understand that reference.

By the following day, Luke and Nicola were everywhere. I genuinely appreciate the “Librarians” of the private group chats – those people who track and record every single post, story, like, non-like, follow, unfollow, literally everything – their job was grueling last week. The Sincerely Ignorant Lukolas who jumped ship months ago were frantically trying to climb back on board, while the Jakolas were desperately trying to find their Dramamine. The Defectors went silent except to remind their hive of hornets not to worry; that they will get “a reminder soon…”

Charley: A reminder of what?

Crowd: Oh, that there are two side characters floating about.

Well, lo and behold – right on schedule – a random picture of Luke and Antonia in an elevator surfaced the day after the SAG awards. The problem with the picture was that it was dismissed by Lukolas almost immediately. The account that dropped the picture on X was suspicious. Antonia’s hair and clothing seemed “so last year.” The Lukolas were far more focused on Luke and Nicola liking anything and everything to do with the SAG that day than to pay any attention to the “same old song and dance” about Antonia. Even Nicola liking Jake’s very bland “Nicola” comment on her grid post was dismissed with a “shooing” wave of the hand and an uninterested half laugh.

On February 25, the “insinuation” pictures were at it again. In fact, it was a rather busy day. An event host posted a picture of what appeared to be Antonia perfectly centered at an L.A. hotel pool. The story was reposted by the hotel itself. In fact, that’s the only reason the picture was found by the fandom. A new elevator picture of Luke and Antonia dropped; however, it, too, was dismissed fairly quickly, regardless of it being dropped by a different, less dubious X account. The Lukolas just didn’t give a fuck about Antonia. Luke was the subject of a blind that insinuated he had spent most of his time at the SAG looking in a mirror. And the evening was rounded out by something that would have rocked the boat in June 2024 but had little effect in February 2025 – Nicola followed Antonia on Instagram and vice versa!

Oh, shit – Jefferies just lost his grip and fell out the “Rear Window.” But he didn’t die! So, that’s a plus.

The following day, February 26, Antonia started to remove tags from her Instagram account including the “Soho” New Year's 2024 picture of Luke and his friend group, which included Antonia. And Nicola responded to the “mirror” blind about Luke with “I can confirm this is 100% not true [laughing/crying emoji].” So, interestingly, we had Antonia backing further away from Luke and Nicola stepping up to defend him.

Crowd: So, where do we go from here?

That’s a good question. The thing I’ve learned through this “course” is that the Lukolas are now unmoved by the shenanigans happening around them. You can serve Antonia to them on a silver platter, and they’ll flag down the waiter and ask them to return her to the kitchen. And you won’t find Jake anywhere on their menu (hence why I didn’t even bother to mention Jake’s play).

Dad: I think “the whole thing has run its course.”

It really has. The Lukolas are tired but unyielding. At this point, they just want their version of Thorwald to confess. The narratives running parallel to each other (i.e., Lukola vs. Jakola vs. Lutonia) can’t go on much longer. One of them is going to crack under the pressure.

Remember, “Three can keep a secret…”

P.S.

Dad: “Is Ireland still wearing that ring?”

Me: Yes.

Dad: “Then why did you call me?”

Me: <deep sigh>

[wendichester]

✮⋆˙ coffee, pie & a side of trouble,

summary. you finally have a handsome customer at the diner

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 399

notes. happy jackles day .ᐟ 🩷

Dean’s been to a lot of diners—greasy spoons with peeling vinyl booths and coffee strong enough to wake the dead. But this one? This one’s special.

And it has nothing to do with the menu.

“Can I get you something, sweetheart?”

Your voice is smooth, a little teasing, and when Dean glances up from the sticky menu, he nearly forgets how to speak.

Damn.

He knew walking into this place was a good idea.

You’re standing there in a worn little uniform, not exactly glamorous, but on you? It works. There’s a knowing glint in your eyes, like you’ve dealt with plenty of guys like him before—cocky, road-worn, up to no good.

Dean grins. “That depends. What’s good here?”

You huff a laugh, placing a hand on your hip. “Nothing, really. But the coffee’s hot, and the pie won’t kill you.”

“Damn, and here I was hoping for fine dining.” He taps a finger against the menu. “Tell you what—bring me some of that not-deadly pie and your best cup of coffee.”

Your lips twitch like you’re trying not to smile. “You got it, handsome.”

Dean watches as you walk away, taking his sweet time, because hey—he’s only human.

By the time you come back, balancing a plate of pie and a steaming mug, he’s already decided he likes this place way more than he should.

You set everything down in front of him, leaning slightly over the table. “That should keep you busy for a bit.”

Dean smirks, picking up his fork. “Depends. You sticking around, or am I supposed to enjoy this all by myself?”

You arch a brow. “Are you flirting for a discount?”

He grins around his first bite of pie. “Is it working?”

You shake your head, but there’s warmth in your eyes. “Not a chance.”

Dean chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee. “Alright, alright. Just figured I’d try my luck.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the booth. “You passin’ through, or should I expect you back for breakfast?”

Dean lifts a shoulder, his smirk softening just a little. “Depends. You on the morning shift?”

You pretend to think about it, tapping your fingers on the table. “Guess you’ll just have to come by and find out.”

He exhales a laugh, shaking his head. “You really know how to keep a guy on his toes.”

And damn it, he will be back.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ( continues in the comments )

[callme-holly]

Could you do a Darry x reader where shes just like super fidgety and he pulls her into his lap to calm her down

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 [��𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

a/n: short one today y'all!! really sorry but my head is all over the place rn

The house had finally begun to settle, the silence much welcome after hours of pure chaos and steadily unfurling anxiety; the boys had long since wound down, their wounds from the rumble patched, all of them sprawled out in various states around the room, sound asleep. Yet, despite them being safe and content under the same roof as you, you still couldn’t seem to relax yourself. Your heart was still thumping wildly, mind clouded slightly with fear and the what-ifs that had swirled around in your brain since the moment they’d left. 

Your hands wrung absentmindedly in your lap, nails picking at your skin, blood beading slightly at the surface. It wasn’t an intentional infliction, just something for your hands to do. You never were consciously aware of what you were doing, much like now, until Darry grabbed your hands gently in his much larger ones, his skin rough in contrast to yours. 

“Don’t do that,” he mumbles, keeping his tone low—his voice is rough from all the shouting he’d no doubt done earlier, and it sends an involuntary shiver through you. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

You don’t fight against him, simply lacing your fingers together, squeezing his hand gently. “Sorry…” You avert your gaze, eyes darting around the room quickly, landing on every single face around the room, almost as if reassuring yourself that they’re all there.

“Hey…” He grabbed your chin, his touch nothing but tender, turning your face slowly so that your attention is focused purely on him. His thumb grazes over your cheek, featherlight, barely there. "You're real restless tonight, darlin'. Talk to me." 

You let out a long, heavy sigh, shrugging half-heartedly; there was no easy way to say that, despite knowing that they were all here, you were still trembling with anxiety, the fear eating away at you. "I don't know... I just..." you trail off, searching his eyes for any sort of sign that he gets it without you having to say much more. 

He lets out a long, drawn breath, and before you can even comprehend what he's doing, he's tugging you into his lap, arms wrapped around you, holding you close. His hands rest on your hips, tracing idle circles on your skin. It's comforting and calming, a stark contrast to the panic still raging inside you. 

“It’s alright, you know that. Everything is fine. We’re all safe, sweetheart.” 

“I know…” you whisper, swallowing thickly, letting yourself melt against his chest. “I can’t help it, though. You were gone for hours, Darry. Forgive me for being slightly worried about you.” It comes out a little snappier than you meant it, and you’re immediately flooded with guilt, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth in apology. 

He doesn’t seem offended, though, instead chuckling softly. “You worry too much. I can handle myself. Those guys didn’t stand a chance against me.”

That draws a laugh from you, the first real, genuine laugh of the evening. “Whatever you say, tough guy. 'm just glad you're okay..."

You lean in again, and this time he meets you halfway, the kiss  chaste, soft, and tender; the tension in your body finally begins to dissipate, leaving behind nothing but a faint tingle as he pulls away from you. 

He's safe. He's here, with you... And he isn't going anywhere. 

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 9

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21. Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.)

Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it.

From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another.

Masterlist to the previous parts!

Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!

“So, what’s the plan?” Hange asked as they walked down the street. With each step they took, the houses grew larger, the gates taller, the fences grander—everything seemed to increase in size and value the deeper they went. “You sneak through a window now that the sun’s setting and kidnap the cat?”

Levi didn’t break stride as the street sloped downward, though he shot Hange a frown. “We’re not kidnapping anything. I sent a cadet earlier to inform them I’d be picking up the animal.”

A loud hum of understanding filled the night as they continued walking, hands tucked into their pockets. But Hange still didn’t seem convinced.

“You sure about this?”

“About what?”

Hange gave a quick glance around before answering. “These neighborhoods are private.”

“And?”

“Let’s just say the people who live in places like this and… us? We’ve never exactly been longtime acquaintances.” Hange’s tone carried the weight of an unspoken warning, as if preparing for the worst.

But Levi couldn’t care less. Maybe it was the inner thug in him, the part that never gave a damn about the rich, the nobility, the king—or authority in general. This place reeked of something foreign, something he didn’t belong to. But like a lion crossing an open field, he walked through it like it was his to take. The Scouts held power now, but that wasn’t why he moved with such unwavering confidence. Levi was Levi, and even before the Scouts had led an uprising, he had been humanity’s strongest. Strength gives you a certainty in your actions that nothing else can. Especially when they reached the front door.

Hange, either fearing the worst or just aware of Levi’s absolute lack of social grace, wisely kept quiet.

The staff member who answered the gates frowned—not just in confusion, but perhaps in disgust. His gaze landed on the Wings of Freedom insignia on their uniforms alarmingly fast.

“Sir.”

“I came for the cat,” Levi said, blunt as ever.

The man’s expression barely shifted. “I thought we informed the cadet that if you came, you should use the back entrance.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. He had no problem using the service entrance. But they’d received a mere MP cadet—barely fifteen years old—at their pristine front gates, and now he was supposed to go around the back like some beggar? Not a fucking chance.

“Are you going to let me in or not?”

The man—a butler? Or something like that. I don’t fucking know, Levi thought—stepped aside reluctantly, extending a stiff hand toward the entrance.

Once inside, Hange took a moment to admire the downtown manor, pressing their lips together, nodding slowly in appreciation of the place’s elegance. Levi, however, wasn’t impressed. He was already pissed off—because of Zackly, because of the MPs, because of the damn door. His hands remained in his pockets, deep-set eyes locked onto the stairs with not even a hint of friendliness.

“The cat?” His voice cut through the tension, sharp and impatient. If he’d given them advance notice, then they should have been ready by now.

The butler barely reacted. “Please, wait here. The family is busy.”

Levi let the silence stretch, his patience thinner than ever. “I sent someone over four hours ago.”

Hange, sensing the storm brewing in him, reached out, placing a cautious hand on his shoulder. Their expression twisted into an uneasy grimace, a silent plea.

‘Let’s not make this harder.’

Levi had barely registered Hange’s silent plea when the muffled sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the grand hall. A moment later, a flustered servant appeared, carrying a wooden box with small air holes carved into its sides. The box wobbled precariously in his grip—not because it was heavy, but because a tiny pair of hands were clawing at it with desperate strength.

“Clauwy! Nooo!! Clauwy!!!”

The voice was shrill and thick with tears, and it belonged to a small, wild-haired girl stumbling after the servant in a fit of heartbreak. Her face was blotchy from crying, her little legs moving as fast as they could, though they barely kept up. She yanked at the box, nearly knocking it from the man’s grasp, her tiny fingers clinging like her life depended on it.

“Miss, please—” The servant tried to wrestle the box from her grip, his expression strained. It was clear he was struggling, not because she was particularly strong, but because she was the boss’s daughter—and he couldn't exactly shove her off.

Levi watched the scene unfold, eyebrows knitting together as the girl let out another wail, “Clauwy!!!”

‘Clauwy?’ He blinked.

Hange was biting their lip, either to keep from laughing or from making things worse. The servant finally managed to pry the girl’s fingers off, stumbling forward as he hastily presented Levi with the box. “Here, sir. The animal is inside. Everything needed and requested is included.”

Levi barely had time to grip the box before the little girl let out another sob and jumped, arms stretching toward it in a frantic attempt to snatch it back. Her high pitched scream made Hange go from entertainment to grimace in pain as the loud cry hurted the adult’s ears. LEvi clenched his teeth bearing himself to it but Hange whispered “Dear Sheena…” as if this was everything the commander needed to recall why they never had kids.

“Nooo, Clauwy!!” she howled, tiny hands grasping at the air. “Y/N is gonna never come back if Clauwy isn’t here!!”

At that, Levi stiffened. His sharp gaze flicked down to the girl, eyes narrowing slightly.

‘Y/N’s little sister.’

That was the only explanation.

The messy hair, the same teary eyes, the way her tiny fists balled up in frustration—it wasn’t hard to see the resemblance.

Levi exhaled quietly, shifting his stance. His grip on the box relaxed just a fraction as he crouched down, leveling himself with the child. She sniffled loudly, cheeks stained with tears, little lips quivering. The tears were not watery work as some kids did to get what they wanted, she was loudly and messily crying her eyes off.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure what the hell he was supposed to say.

But then, in a rare, softened tone, he spoke.

“Hey.”

The girl hiccupped, still glaring up at him with wet, accusing eyes.

Levi tilted his head slightly, nodding toward the box. “I’m taking him to Y/N. You don’t have to cry.”

The little girl’s breath hitched. Her brows knitted together, unsure whether to believe him. “Pwomise?”

Levi nodded once. “Promise.”

She sniffled again, rubbing at her puffy eyes with tiny fists. The violent wailing had subsided into shaky breaths, though doubt still lingered in her expression. "You… with Y/N?" she murmured, her voice small and filled with innocent curiosity.

Levi gave a short nod. "Yeah. She's with me."

Before he had time to react, the girl threw her arms around his jacket, clinging to him like a koala.

"I wanna be with Y/N!" she insisted, her tiny fists gripping the fabric tightly. She was so small that she barely weighed anything, but she nearly knocked him off balance in her desperation.

Levi instinctively steadied her with his free hand, his body tensing. "No, no. You’ve got your parents." He tried to pry her off, one hand awkwardly holding her in place to keep her from slipping. His voice carried an edge of unease—like this wasn’t the first time a child had latched onto him, looking for something he wasn’t sure how to give.

It all made sense when a commanding voice cut through the hallway.

"MAEVE!"

Levi turned his head, eyes narrowing at the elegantly dressed woman approaching from the corridor. She carried herself with an air of superiority, her gaze sharp, cold, and—more than anything—filled with contempt. A contempt Levi could barely understand but somehow reciprocated on instinct.

"Come here, this instant."

Maeve, still clinging to Levi as if he were her last lifeline, buried her tear-streaked face against his chest in fear.

Levi wasn't holding her back, but he wasn’t pushing her away either. A part of him reasoned it wasn’t his place to interfere with another’s parenting. Another part—something older, instinctual—bristled at the fear in the little girl’s eyes.

"Mae," the woman’s voice dropped lower, dangerously even, though the authority in it never wavered. "Do not make me come over there."

Levi remained in his crouch, though he wished he weren’t. Not because she intimidated him and neither was it that his height was towering—far from it—but because he wasn’t about to be ordered around like a misbehaving child.

She turned her glare on him. "You got what you came for. Don’t touch my daughter, and get out."

His voice was calm, but firm. “I’m married to your daughter.”

He let the words sink in. He knew the comment was about Maeve, but he wanted to remind her why he was here. “And you’re living in this house thanks to that. So next time, have the decency to receive me at the front door. And maybe bring a tea set."

The silence that followed felt like a battlefield.

The woman clenched her jaw, her pride clearly wounded. Levi, on the other hand, was holding back the urge to tell her a few things that would make the situation irreparable.

Eventually, the little girl loosened her grip just slightly, uncertainty still clouding her face, but her wobbly legs found the floor again. She pouted up at Levi. "Y/N...?"

Levi blinked. The words were mumbled and choked between sobs, but he caught enough of them to piece together what she meant.

“You draw too? Like your sister?” he asked.

The little girl nodded hesitantly.

He exhaled and adjusted the box under his arm. "Why don’t you give your drawings to your grandmother? She has my address. I bet Y/N will love them."

The idea seemed to ease something in her little mind. Her expression brightened just slightly—a wobbly, tear-stained smile forming.

"Okay..."

Then, as if remembering something urgent, she gasped and reached for the box. Levi lowered it just enough for her to hold it against her tiny chest, where she planted an exaggerated kiss on the top.

“Bye-bye, Clauwy,” she sniffled, waving at the wooden crate as if the cat inside could see her.

She then stepped back, allowing a nearby servant—who was no doubt assigned to escort her away without much fuss—to gently guide her down the hall.

With only adults left in the room, the woman stepped closer, lowering her voice to a venomous whisper. "Do not drag my daughters into this."

Levi barely batted an eye as he stood, shifting the box under his arm. He spat back, just as low, "Then don’t bring your daughter into this."

—

By the time they were making their way down the cobblestone streets, Hange finally broke the silence with a drawl of pure sarcasm. "Your in-laws adore you."

Levi scoffed, adjusting his grip on the box. "They fucking should. They’re out of jail thanks to me."

Hange hummed, amused. "Ahh, the foundation of every strong family bond."

They walked in silence for a few moments before Hange, who had been keeping an eye on the cargo, squinted. "Uh… Levi?"

"What?" Levi barely glanced at them.

"The box is leaking something."

Levi stopped dead in his tracks. "What."

His head snapped down, and sure enough, a suspiciously watery liquid was seeping through the bottom of the wooden crate. With a sharp sigh, he lifted it slightly, peering through the holes.

Inside, a pair of terrified cat eyes stared back at him—so wide, so frozen in fear, that it was almost comical.

Levi’s nose wrinkled. "Oh, for fuck’s sake."

Hange took a cautious step back. "Is that—?"

"The damn thing pissed itself." Levi scowled, glaring at the cat. "Tch. It’s gonna be fine, you idiot. Don’t shit yourself too."

Hange let out an obnoxious cackle. "That’s it! Use your daddy skills on the cat!"

Levi shot them a deadly glare. "Who do you think I am? Erwin?"

That only made Hange laugh harder.

—

Perhaps the unconscious side of his mind knew better than he did—it could foretell a prophecy and a future, much like some mystical oracle. At first, Levi wondered why he was wasting the precious little time he had left for sleep on dreaming pointless memories. But as soon as he recovered a bit of consciousness, he felt something heavy and warm on top of him. Blinking rapidly, trying to knock some sense into himself, the first thing that greeted him was a huge fur ball sprawled out like a bum on his chest, purring loudly.

It was one of those rare occasions when Levi had decided he needed to sleep more than just two or three hours, rather than curling over his desk or slumping in his chair. The migraine he suffered, the particular sluggish state of the previous day, and his lingering intoxication all signaled that this was one of those times when he needed to try for a normal night’s sleep. Usually he would use his bed, but his bed was, as usual, occupied by the new member of the household. So he rearranged one of the couch cushions, changed his uniform, and called it a day—even though “calling it a day” for him meant staring at the ceiling for a good couple of hours. On other occasions, he might have masturbated and taken a warm shower to help induce sleepiness; however, Y/N wanted to shower after him. The thought of him jerking off on a couch whose cover he couldn’t change, right next to the room where she slept, wasn’t very arousing.

The brownish-grey short blanket that barely covered his hips—originally meant for expeditions—hung loosely over him as he felt that the night was too warm for his taste. Moreover, the big animal on top of him served as a living pillow, radiating an inviting warmth that mingled with the humid air.

“Tch,” Levi cursed as he abruptly woke up. “You’re supposed to be sleeping with your owner, not me.”

But the cat, as if interpreting any suggestion from Levi as a personal challenge, stretched upward—making Levi grimace as though suddenly the animal weighs 500 tons, its teeny tiny paws seeming to carry an impossible burden. Then it knocked its head against Levi’s face and curled up even closer.

“No,” Levi groaned, only for the cat to start licking his face with its paper-thin, sandpapery tongue. “For fuck’s sake, not with the tongue you use to clean your ass,” he barked, moving his head away in disgust. If falling asleep was already a struggle with a huge fur ball curled around his head purring like a machine, it wasn’t going to become any easier.

The paper-thin white curtains waged a constant battle against the early morning sun. For the past month, the weather had undergone an unstoppable change—the temperatures rising even at night. The chimney, where she had once warmed herself on the night she arrived, had been cleaned and relegated to a storage space where, on occasion, a small fire was kindled to boil water for Levi’s late-night tea. The bedroom, which had seemed foreign to her on the first night, had now been completely conquered, making it hard to sleep past a certain hour. Each day, the sun filtered in a little earlier, illuminating the entire space with a relentless glow.

Restlessly contorting on the bed, she tried to tug the blanket over her head to escape the scorching early summer sun. But it did little to help—not only were Levi’s blankets short and itchy, but breathing beneath the cover was unbearably warm. The fact that Levi had never noticed the curtains didn’t actually cover anything betrayed either his hectic early schedule or the fact that he rarely slept in that room. Waking up hungry was the first thing she noticed, and that realization motivated her to leave the bed.

Usually, she enjoyed the morning—though Levi hardly considered anything past 8 a.m. as truly morning. Even after living there for an entire month, the place still didn’t feel like hers, especially when Levi was around. Sharing the four walls with him made her feel self-conscious, as if she were merely a guest staying over for a short visit, forced to display her best behavior and wear her finest clothes. It made her wonder if this was something that couples eventually got used to. When he left, she was usually asleep; when he returned, she was already dressed, her hair done, and presentable. Perhaps it was because her mother had always maintained a polished appearance around the house, or maybe it was due to the lack of true intimacy in their relationship—but when he wasn’t around, she felt as though the place belonged entirely to her.

Without giving a second thought, she crawled out of the bed and opened the bedroom door. That small act already struck her as odd, making her frown. Levi had never closed the door when she was inside, and neither did she; for her, it still felt like a loss of control over her personal space. There was little time to rationalize this sentiment, however, as a squeak of surprise mixed with delight echoed through the chambers.

“Aww! Good morning, sleepy beauty!”

Y/N stood frozen as she locked eyes with the brunette seated at Levi’s desk. Instantly, she tried to wrap her arms around herself—her whitish, slightly translucent camisole leaving little to the imagination, and she feared the worst. But before she could even reconsider enclosing herself back in the bedroom, Hange rose and walked over to her. “I’ve been meaning to finally meet you!” the newcomer exclaimed.

The hug was unexpected but a welcome surprise. It took her a little while to process it before she hugged back, delighted to receive such a clear expression of affection. Only to add to the surprise, Hange swayed slightly to the side, tightening the embrace and eliciting a sincere chuckle from the omega girl. For her, the random stranger who had been enjoying breakfast with her newly proclaimed husband was a delightful presence. As for Levi, he could see—through his deadpan expression—how Hange savored the aroma of her hair, smirking cheekily as if the low-class alpha had just won some trivial inner competition.

When they parted, Hange rested their hands on her upper arms. “You can call me Hange—I’m Levi’s bestie, even if shortie denies it.”

“Ah,” she said, smiling in a slightly confused yet relieved manner, as if her life were slowly returning to normal. Now she could go out; she had met the important people in her husband’s life. What should have been the usual “Nice to—” was cut short when Hange added, “I’m also the commander, but don’t take it too seriously,” as if it were nothing. The remark immediately silenced any response she might have offered, forcing her to press her lips together in shock and blush heavily as she looked down at her pajamas and bare feet.

“I’m so sorry,” she hesitated, but Hange laughed it off.

“Do not worry, you look great!” they insisted. “I swear, you’re a beauty—a cutie and a beauty.” The comment made her blush even more, especially when Hange pinched one of her cheeks. “Right, Levi, isn’t she a cutie?”

‘That was absolutely unnecessary and uncalled for,’ Levi thought immediately, trying not to choke on the tea he was drinking at the unexpected turn of conversation. He coughed a bit as the liquid reacted to the shock; he had not paid attention until now that his so-called best friend had decided to put him in the spotlight. His eyes silently conveyed his inner exclamation of “What the fuck, dude? That was UNNECESSARY,” but Hange maintained a sassy, unaffected grimace.

Almost breathless, Levi groaned a bit, “Yeah,” as if the words had been forced out of him at gunpoint rather than being genuine. Or so it seemed to her. Y/N admired the scene first with thankfulness and hope, then with confusion, and finally with a resigned sense of broken hope. ‘He truly can’t even stand me,’ she thought.

For Levi, the cough that had erupted initially was forced out, stretching his moment of embarrassment before he resumed drinking his tea to hide his subtle blush. He wasn’t one to give compliments—not because he didn’t feel them, but because he wasn’t good with them. Being thrust into the spotlight and forced to offer a compliment only revealed his best: a feigned indifference.

Hange, who thought it was a good occasion to coax the Captain into a sweet gesture, had left the room heavy with uneasiness. “Let’s have breakfast, shall we?” the brunette said, placing a hand behind Y/N’s back and gently guiding her toward the desk. But she refused.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother during a meeting, sir,” she explained, already resolving that from now on she would check before opening the door. Perhaps, now that she wasn’t enclosed, Levi could return to his usual routine of holding meetings at his place—or so she guessed, for since her arrival, neither of them had ever experienced a normal routine.

“It’s Hange,” they insisted, “and we’re not having a meeting—we’re just having breakfast. Well… more like eating your cookies, but sure.”

That slowly convinced her to follow them further into the room, although there wasn’t much further to go since the space was rather small.

“Her cookies?” Levi asked casually. “I pay for those.”

“If that’s the case, they’re my cookies—I pay the salary that you use to pay for the cookies,” Hange retorted sarcastically as they sat down.

“I thought you said you didn’t choose salaries. Give me a fucking raise then.”

Levi exhaled sharply through his nose as he leaned back in his chair, watching Hange shamelessly steal another cookie from the tin. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the way Hange ate with no remorse or the fact that he had been roped into this conversation in the first place.  

Y/N, still blushing from the earlier interaction, carefully sat down at the table. She reached for a slice of bread, but her mind was already elsewhere—on the trip ahead.  

“Eat quickly,” Levi told her, tone clipped. “We’re leaving for Trost soon. I was about to wake you up, anyway.”  

Y/N blinked in surprise. “Oh. This early?”  

Levi took a sip of his tea.’God… I don’t actually believe in you but… bless me patience,’

Hange chuckled. “You’re acting like we’re on some mission, Levi. Trost isn’t going anywhere.”  

Levi shot them a tired glare ‘Whose side are you?’ He silently asked as if he needed someone to back him up for once since his life had been turned upside down. Then he turned back to Y/N. “So eat and get ready. We need to leave soon.”  

Y/N nodded, already thinking ahead. She had never been to Trost before, but she knew it was much livelier than their usual surroundings—filled with markets, shops, and well-dressed people going about their daily lives. For the first time in a long while, she would be in a real city, not just cooped up in Levi’s quarters or wandering the military compound.  

Excitement fluttered in her chest. “I’ll be quick. I just need to get dressed.” She silently clapped her hands in quite excitement “I’ll wear that floral dress I’ve been saving,”

As she spoke, Levi could almost see and hear everything that was about to unfold before his eyes in the middle of the city. “What’s wrong with your usual dresses?”

She frowned. “I want to wear something nice for the trip.”  

His expression didn’t change, but his gaze sharpened slightly. “There’s no need for that. Just wear something simple.”  

“But—”  

“It’s better if we don’t draw attention.”  

Her excitement flickered, her shoulders tensing. “We’re going to a city, not sneaking around like criminals.”  

Levi had a bad habit of keeping things to himself and making little to no effort to explain the reasons behind his decisions. This habit made her bite her inner cheek in annoyance; he simply ordered around as if they were following a strict chain of command rather than working together on this arrangement. “Exactly. A city means more people, more eyes, and more chances for someone to be an issue. You already stand out enough as it is. There's no need to make it worse.”

Y/N stiffened. She wasn’t sure what annoyed her more—the implication that she was some sort of problem or the fact that he was, yet again, making decisions for her. “I just want to look nice.”  

“You already are,” he said. In his mind, he was protecting her—for her, he was controlling every step she took as if she were a toddler. “I don’t want to deal with people staring at us.”

‘First the room, then his squad, now this. Who are you hiding me from?’ Her mind began to construct ideas, though many were based on little more than a shaky foundation. She felt like a prisoner of his relentless attempts to keep her undercover.

Her fingers curled into her lap. “So what? I’m supposed to walk around looking dull just because you don’t want to be bothered?”  

“Not dull,” he corrected. “Just —

Y/N huffed, frustration bubbling in her chest. She wanted to argue—to snap back that she didn’t need him controlling what she wore. At the same time, she wanted her space to be respected. ‘Like it or not, I’m your wife! Give me ONE chance to feel like I’m not a prisoner,’ she thought. But before she could say anything, Hange clapped their hands together, breaking the tension.

“Well! I say we leave a little later then,” Hange announced cheerfully. “No need to rush. Let her get ready how she wants. She’ll look gorgeous no matter what, right?” They shot Levi a pointed look.  

Levi exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly not pleased and not in the mood to argue further. He just grunted in response.

‘Don't listen to me—I was born yesterday. In fact, I'm stupid,’ Levi thought, for him the outcome was as clear as possible. ‘Don't come back pouting at me when you realize I was damn right.’

Y/N turned to Hange, eyebrows raised. “Wait… you’re coming?”  

Hange tilted their head. “Of course I am! What, did you think you and Levi were just going on a little honeymoon getaway?” They wiggled their eyebrows playfully before taking another bite of a cookie.  

Y/N felt her face heat up again. “No, I just—”  

“We’re going for business,” Hange reminded her with a smirk. “In case you forgot, there’s a whole reason behind this trip, and it’s not sightseeing.”  

Her lips parted slightly in realization. Right. Of course. Business. Glancing at Levi as waiting for some guidance. He didn’t look at her, just continued drinking his tea as if the whole argument hadn’t happened.

Y/N hurried excitedly into the room, and as soon as she was out of the chambers, Hange bent over the desk to whisper to the Captain, “Don’t be so constipated—let her have this.”

Levi clenched his teeth. The day before yesterday’s little tantrum about going to Trost, and now this. He wasn’t one to take being disrespected in his decisions lightly. “I know what I’m doing,” he whispered back, his tone biting with each word.

“And what are you doing?” the commander retorted, raising a single eyebrow with a grimace of confusion mixed with exasperation. “Being a bitch?”

Like a tired mother who might exclaim, “I’d like to see all of you the day I die!” Levi raised his hands in the air, pressed his lips together, and stood up—silently declaring that he was going to wait and see, wait and see how right he was.

“By the way,” Hange added with their mouth full, “I preferred it when she didn’t stink to you.”

“Could you try not to hit on my wife for five fucking minutes?” he said, exhausted, only to win a cheeky chuckle from the brunette.

He was ready—ready a long while ago. A casual white shirt, dark trousers, knee-high boots, sleeves rolled up. Deep breath in, deep breath out. His grey eyes stared at the abyss before he loudly exclaimed, “I’m leaving in THREE, TWO—”

”I’M READY!” Y/N adjusted the wide-brimmed hat over her head, making sure it sat just right before stepping out of the bathroom. The sunflower dress she had chosen was light and airy, perfect for the warm weather, and the soft fabric swayed gently around her knees as she moved. She felt… nice. Presentable. Even a little excited.

Levi was already at the door, checking the lock one last time to make sure the cat wouldn’t escape while they were gone. His back was turned to her, but she still lifted her chin slightly, expecting something. A comment, maybe. Not a compliment—he was terrible at those—but at least some acknowledgment.

Levi turned around, his eyes flicking over her in a quick assessment.

And that was when it hit him. ‘Great. Just fucking great. She looks freaking cute, and I’m forced to have sharper senses than when I was trying not to get killed by that monkey’s rocks.’

The damn dress, the stupid hat, the way the sunlight hit her just right—he could already feel the stares they were bound to attract. He could almost hear Hange’s teasing and see the way people would gape. And worst of all, he knew she was waiting for a reaction. He wasn’t stupid; he could see in her expectant eyes that she was standing up straight, her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze innocent yet hopeful. Or perhaps he was a little stupid, because when cornered to say something nice, his best option was to play dead and freeze like a possum.

“Finally,” he muttered, turning back to the lock as if her entire effort had gone unnoticed.

Y/N’s shoulders dropped slightly, her excitement dimming at his lack of response. ‘That’s it?’ Her disappointment was so clear as she pouted while he pushed open the door, stepping outside without even sparing her a second glance. She bent down to press a kiss on the cat’s head and whispered, “Love ya, baby.”

By the time she followed him out, he was already locking the office behind them, the keys jingling as he secured every bolt.

“You should wear different shoes,” he said without looking up.

Y/N glanced down at her feet. The shoes in question were a delicate pair of heeled sandals, the only ones that really matched her outfit. “They’re fine,” she argued.

“It’s a long trip,” he countered. “You’re gonna regret it.”

She huffed. “I’ll be fine.”

Levi shot her a look, unimpressed. He could already picture it—halfway through the day, she’d be complaining about sore feet, and he’d be the one stuck dealing with it. But if she wanted to be stubborn about it, fine. He wasn’t going to argue over a pair of shoes.

“Suit yourself,” he muttered, stepping down onto the corridor.

They barely made it a few steps before a group of cadets passed by, chatting among themselves. One of them, recognizing Y/N, perked up immediately.

“Good morning, ma’am!” a young soldier greeted with a bright smile. Then they performed the military salute, moving stiffly with the sides of their boots clacking against each other in the process. “Sir,”

Y/N, caught off guard but pleased, smiled back just as enthusiastically. “Oh! Good morning!”

The cadets all nodded in respect before continuing on their way, but Y/N’s cheerful response seemed to echo in Levi’s ears like a goddamn church bell.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing his temple as he walked beside her. “Tch. You don’t have to greet every damn person you see.”

She shot him a side glance, amused. “They greeted me first. Should I have ignored them?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

Levi didn’t answer. He just kept walking, already dreading how long this trip was going to feel.

At the front doors of the barracks, a group of cadets waited with varying degrees of patience. Jean paced back and forth, arms crossed, his brows furrowed as he glanced toward the office.

"What the hell is taking them so long?" he grumbled.

Mikasa, standing beside him with her usual deadpan expression, shrugged slightly. "Maybe she got lost in the corridors," she suggested.

"Lost?" Jean snorted. "It’s a damn building, not a maze."

"She’s new here?" Armin pointed out as if it was obvious, adjusting his collar.

Jean hesitated before scoffing. "Well, yes, but—"

"There you go," Mikasa cut in.

Before Jean could argue, Sasha suddenly clapped her hands together, her eyes practically sparkling. "Guys, focus," she whispered excitedly. "This is a golden opportunity!"

Jean, Connie, and Sasha all exchanged knowing looks, their grins spreading mischievously.

Eren, standing a little behind them, narrowed his eyes. "What’s a golden opportunity?"

Connie immediately pulled him into a huddle, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Armin and Mikasa were dragged in next, forming a tight circle like a football team plotting their next big play.

Jean took the lead, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Alright, listen up. Captain Levi is well-known in Trost."

"No kidding," Armin muttered.

"Shh!" Jean hushed him. "The point is, he's famous, but he never—never—pays attention to street vendors, food stalls, or anything fun."

Sasha gasped dramatically. "A tragedy, truly."

"But!" Jean continued, raising a finger. "The people of Trost will definitely be eager to pamper his new wife." He leaned in closer, voice dripping with excitement. "Which means—"

"Free food!" Sasha finished, eyes gleaming.

"Free stuff," Connie corrected, practically bouncing on his feet. "I bet we could score more than just food."

"Like what? Socks?" Eren asked, raising a skeptical brow.

"Yes, Eren, socks," Connie said, rolling his eyes. "And maybe some new boots, a hat, a nice bottle of whiskey—who knows?"

Jean nodded. "All we gotta do is make sure Y/N walks near the best vendors and looks interested. The rest will handle itself."

Sasha pumped her fist. "We need to make her look hungry! I can do that!"

"You are always hungry," Mikasa pointed out flatly.

Sasha beamed. "Exactly! I’ll be her coach!"

Armin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is ridiculous."

"No, this is genius," Connie corrected. "Think about it! Levi would never let us go around sampling food like tourists, but if it’s for his wife?" He smirked. "He’d look like a jerk if he stopped it."

Eren groaned. "I can’t believe I’m listening to this."

Jean smirked, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "That’s because you know it’s a solid plan."

Armin exhaled, shaking his head. "You do realize there’s a possibility Levi will find out and murder us all, right?"

A brief silence followed.

Then Sasha shrugged. "Worth it."

Jean clapped his hands together. "Alright, team! Stick to the plan. Act natural, but not too natural."

Connie pointed dramatically toward the office. "Operation 'Use the Captain’s Wife to Score Free Stuff' is a go!"

And with that, the squad dispersed, their grins full of anticipation as they awaited Y/N’s arrival.

“Y/N!” The enthusiastic cheer of her name echoed down the training ground, momentarily confusing her, but she quickly adapted. Her happiness for the day immediately matched that of the cadets as she hurried up to meet them.

“Hi, sweeties,” she called out, rushing forward to hug the squad members—except for Eren, who remained distant despite her approach. “Good morning,” she added warmly.

Meanwhile, Levi stayed behind, slowly approaching the weathered wooden cart they were about to take. He made no haste to join the others, instead raising a silent eyebrow at the suspicious attitude that seemed to hang in the air. However, Hange reached the cart first and whispered to the team, “Way less, guys, way less.” It was as if the six teenagers and the commander shared one single brain cell, all arriving at the same conclusion for the trip, their plan guided by the voice of experience.

“The cat isn’t coming?” Mikasa asked, her tone almost disappointed. That question made Y/N’s eyes sparkle with a newfound idea; her mouth opened as she looked back at Levi, but before she could even say anything, he interjected firmly:

“Do not even dream of it.”

Pouting immediately as her expression changed, she retorted, “I didn’t say anything!”

“The answer is still no,”

“Why are we taking the cart? We’d go ten times faster on horseback,” Eren pointed out, sparking a domino effect as the rest of the squad immediately jumped in with similar complaints.

“Yeah, why not just ride?”

“It’d be way quicker.”

“Are we seriously taking the slowest option?”

Y/N hesitated, shifting on her feet as the sudden attention made her stomach twist. “I… I don’t know how to ride,” she admitted, her voice quiet, shame creeping in as she noticed how the squad tried—really tried—to force understanding smiles.

“I—I could ride with you,” Jean blurted, his excitement so obvious it practically scented the air.

Levi, who had been silent up until now, slowly turned to give him a long, deadpan stare. No words. No expression. Just the weight of his gaze pressing down like a boulder.

Jean visibly deflated. “Or… maybe not,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he quickly took it back, feeling the unspoken threat in the older Alpha’s presence.

The ride to Trost was, thankfully, uneventful. The cart rumbled over uneven stone paths, the steady clatter of hooves filling the otherwise quiet morning. The cadets, in contrast, were anything but quiet. They chatted excitedly, cracking jokes and speculating about what they would do once they arrived. Y/N soaked up the energy, enjoying their excitement, though Levi, sitting beside her with arms crossed, remained as unimpressed as ever.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Trost, the sun was already climbing high, casting long shadows over the busy streets. The closer they got to the heart of the city, the more people crowded the roads, bustling about their business. Levi pulled the cart to a stop near the entrance to the inner district, hopping off with practiced ease before turning to the group.

“We’ll be meeting back here before sundown,” he announced, his sharp gaze sweeping over the cadets. “That gives you plenty of time to do whatever it is you want. You’re old enough to manage that much.”

Jean pumped a fist into the air, grinning. “Hell yeah, free roam.”

Armin sighed dramatically. “This is a mistake. they are not responsible enough for this.”

“Don’t worry, Armin, I’ll supervise,” Connie smirked. But Armin glanced back at the other beta, his brows knitting together, unable to hide the fact that his words had been anything but reassuring.

Levi, ignoring them, turned to Y/N. “You stick to me.”

The words hit her like a slap. She blinked, stunned for a second, then frowned deeply. “What?”

He didn’t even spare her a glance as he tightened the straps on his gear. “You heard me.”

But to his surprise, the cadets follow him closely behind. “What?”

But to his surprise, the cadets followed closely behind. Too closely.

“What?” Levi’s narrowed gaze flicked back at them.

“Oh, we just—” Sasha stuttered, visibly scrambling for a decent excuse. “We want to spend time with you, Cap!”

Hange did a full-face palm, exhaling loudly. As if anything would have been more convincing than that.

“Aye, aye, we’re all headed in the same direction, so let’s stick together,” the commander cut in, plastering on a way-too-obviously fake cheerful smile as they pushed the cadets forward.

Y/N, on the other hand, stood frozen for a moment, feeling irritation simmer under her skin. They got to wander freely, but she had to stick by his side like a lost child? “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath as she stomped after him.

Levi didn’t react. He didn’t have to. 

As the not-so-happy couple grumbled their way ahead, the rest of the squad lagged a few steps behind. Hange leaned in with a low murmur. “You guys are horrible at this.”

Connie protested, puffing out his chest—only for Hange to ruffle his hair like an annoying older sibling. “Are you any better?”

The brunette grinned triumphantly, looking more like a mischievous cadet than the highest-ranking in the Corps. “Me? Levi’s influence has been funding my trips for the past six years.”

The squad collectively blinked at them before Jean muttered, “Respect.”

But as they made their way deeper into Trost, her frustration was quickly overtaken by something else.

The city was buzzing with life, vendors calling out their wares, children weaving between adults, and chatter filling the air. Yet as soon as Levi stepped onto the main road, the atmosphere subtly shifted.

People noticed him.

Heads turned, whispers spread like wildfire, and before long, the greetings started.

“Captain Levi!”

“It’s really him!”

“Good morning, sir!”

Men straightened their postures, women gasped in admiration, and children pointed in awe. A few brave ones even ran up to him, eyes shining.

Levi, as usual, barely reacted. He nodded when necessary, offered the occasional “Hello,” 

At first, Y/N found it amusing—fascinating, even. Seeing him get this much admiration, this much respect, was unlike anything she’d experienced before. But then, she started noticing something else.

They were looking at her too.

Not with admiration.

With confusion.

Some whispered amongst themselves, glancing her way before quickly turning back. A few openly stared. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she caught faint traces of scent lingering in the air—mostly Betas, but here and there, a few Omegas and Alphas stood out. Most of them weren’t high-bred, but every so often, a stronger scent cut through the rest, sharp and unmistakable.

Y/N slowed her steps, unease creeping up her spine. Her gaze flickered toward Sasha and Mikasa, their simple, practical outfits blending easily into the crowd. Then she glanced down at herself—her soft, feminine dress, the ring on her finger, the way the fabric swayed with every step. Finally, her eyes shifted back to the citizens.

The Omegas whispered behind cupped hands, sneaking glances at her before looking away with knowing expressions. The Alphas, on the other hand, looked perplexed—some furrowing their brows, others tilting their heads slightly as if trying to solve a puzzle. A few even smiled at her, their interest apparent.

Y/N suddenly felt as though she could hear every unspoken thought in the air around her.

"Married but unclaimed? What’s wrong with her?"

The realization settled in her stomach like a stone. She wasn’t just being stared at—she was being judged. Scrutinized. Questioned.

The overwhelming urge to disappear struck her like a slap. If she could just melt into the cadets, slip unnoticed into their little group, maybe she’d escape the weight of all those eyes. But it was too late for that. She’d wanted to stand out. Now she was paying for it.

Without thinking, she scooted closer to Levi, her fingers twitching at her sides. She hesitated, then glanced up at him with uncertain, almost pleading eyes.

Levi, however, didn’t need to say a single word. The look he shot her—deadpan, unimpressed, and laced with I told you so—was louder than any scolding could ever be.

Author note: Hi, how are all of you doing? Did you miss me? Haha! I actually have, like... a million things to share, so first things first. I know this chapter is a little dull, BUT the real chapter is 16k words—and believe it or not, NOBODY reads a chapter that’s over 6k. My years in fandom have taught me that TikTok has murdered attention spans, and nobody reads a fic over 6k on Tumblr (AO3 is a different story). Now, since I cross-post here, it would be weird to post the full 16k chapter on AO3 but not here. So, this Wednesday, I’ll post the second part, which, in my opinion, is the BEST part of the chapter. But well... Now, onto other news. A lot of people have been asking me, "Only 15 chapters? The story won’t wrap up that quickly!" The 15 chapters were just an estimate based on what I wanted each chapter to include. Then, I realized they kept surpassing 6k, so I had to cut them into parts, which naturally led to more chapters. So don’t worry—this story STILL has plenty of chapters planned! Now, about last Wednesday—I didn’t update as planned. Why? Well, here come the biggest news! Some of you may already know that I’m from Argentina. I’ve been working toward moving because the situation in my home country (and town) is really tricky, and I want to be in a better position to help my mom and family. Last Friday, I had my visa interview, and I was so anxious and stressed about it that I simply didn’t have time to post. I was double-checking all my papers, preparing for the interview questions, planning my trip to the capital city, etc. Good news? 🎉 THIS GIRL IS MOVING TO AUSTRIA, GUYS!! 🎉 I GOT MY VISA! T-T More updates! After being asked so many times (T-T), I finally opened my first Discord server! It’s for Levi fans, and the rules are over on Discord. If anyone wants to join, feel free! ❤️ We’re still a small group, and I’m trying to keep it tight-knit. (I also share story spoilers there—just saying 👀👉👈) -> https://discord.gg/VnGXsKbC LAST—but definitely not least! I have one art commission slot left! If anyone wants it, feel free to ask. 😊 Love you all! I swear I’ve been reading all your comments, and they’re honestly what’s been giving me strength lately. My life is so chaotic right now, but knowing you’re all enjoying my fics means the world. Also—I was recently mentioned on TikTok about my fics and T-T OMG, it feels like a dream come true! Okay, okay, I’ll stop rambling now. Love ya, guys! ❤️

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[shatcey]

Lover Contract (Victor)

I will not make summary… there is not much plot in this story. They came to this club (for lovers only), noticed the guy they needed to check out, and… look around a bit. That's all. But… Kate and Victor had interesting (even philosophical) thoughts, and I would like to reflect on them…

But before that… Victor spoils us a lot with his gentle expression at this event. And… because of that, it took me longer than usual to read it… I just couldn't help but stare at him..

(smiles tenderly) He's so cute…

The post turned out to be quite big. Like like my theory post… very big. I am surprised myself. But I mentioned that I liked this event, even though it didn't have much plot, it contained a lot of interesting thoughts and made me think. More than usual… if that even possible.

They came to this club to confirm that one of the Prime Council member is having an affair. And they noticed him right away… Victor was contemplating…

Despite the fact that he seems to be a person who sees everything only in white and black… bad or good… He doesn't divide people based on that. In his eyes, they are all the same. Friends or foes… they all are just people. The only reason he decided he had to use this information against the guy… because he needs to protect Crown. If he didn't have to, what would he decide? I wondering…

And after that, they noticed another acquaintance… The guy who is famous for being a faithful husband and even making speeches about it… But it turned out that he has a mistress.

Victor looks extremely angry here. That's not the right word… he looks at the guy with disdain. The fact that someone is cheating annoys him, as if for some reason it is very personal to him. Had someone betrayed him? Had someone betrayed his loved ones?

At the very end of the main part of the story… Kate… looking at all these unfaithful spouses thinking out loud…

After everything she'd seen… unsurprisingly, she began to doubt…

He's fascinated by love in general. I have a feeling it has something to do with his curse… Freedom and love… All fairy tales are about at least one of these concepts, but they're usually about protoganist, not antoganist. Was there antagonist somewhere who did bad things for love??? I… don't remember… If ANY love is "fascinating"… As Ally said in the Chocolate event, "everything is fair in love and war." It must be somehow related… No, I still can't catch that thought…

A long sentence on the middle screenshot… can be not entirely correct. I found a very interesting dictionary. It's quite easy to split a sentence into words. BUT… most languages have a very strict order of words in a sentence. And if you know this order, you can easily understand that the part of the speech every word should be. But… there are no special restrictions in my native language… as you may have noticed, I'm constantly playing with words.So, out of habit, I could interpret these words as I see fit. Even adjust it to my thoughts. There was a question in the original text, but it was in the middle. But to make it sound more logical, I changed the sentence to this.

And this wording of his makes me think that he is not a human. He talks about them as if he is just an observer… and has nothing to do with them…

And here we go… What he said earlier was… just a fact, and he doesn't judge others, this it their life. But personally he doesn't like cheating. Nice to know.

Bitter ending

After a short walk (I don't see the point in telling you what happened there, it's not relevant) they return back to the main hall. Kate is thirsty (I wonder why), Vivi notices this and orders drinks.

Well, he's a second Gilly-bee. He probably knows more about you than you know yourself…

I played with the words again, but it seems more correct than what the mechanical translation suggested to me. So… she feels like he's far away… for many reasons: age, experience, knowledge, status… But he takes it literally. The distance. We learned from the LINE campaign that he has been looking out for her from a DISTANCE for a very long time. And… he feels lonely because even though he is with her right now, she still thinks he is far away.

If I had read this BEFORE the LINE campaign, perhaps I would have interpreted these words as his usual sad thoughts about loneliness. But now everything is completely different. And in the next part, he literally says it. He took her hand and told her that he was here with her. And he's "just like her." It's a very peculiar wording. I'm not going to talk about it now. I'm more happy about the next part. He never considered himself free.

He FINALLY admitted it. Where it was… in one of my theory posts… I was talking about freedom… here. It was pretty obvious, but Vivi had never confirmed it before… But here… he really became more open, more… naked, as he said in the epilogue… It was as if he no longer had the desire to remain an observer with her… It feels like we're already in the middle of his route. I'll explain why I think so later.

Kate had an interesting thought…

It makes me think about that damn…. fish… again… I know she's not a fish, she's kind of humanoid. Thatever! The mermaid is not the villain in this story… She's a victim. A victim of betrayal. She suffers from the moment she fell in love until the very end. But… It seems that everything fits too well into the story… And the fact that he takes care of her from a distance, and the fact that he used to be free, but no anymore… It's just too similar. Annoying so. Calm down, girl, it's too early to riled up. But if his curse is that damn fish, I'll scream!

And the fact that Kate either thinks of him that way, or already knows about it… It seems that this is already his route.

Premium ending

We talked for a while on the balcony. After Kate said that she now considers love to be freer than she originally thought… Victor suddenly noticed.

IT'S SO CLOSE!!! But not quite. Oh, what a shame! If you don't understand what I'm implying, I've written about it here.

And after Kate asks, "What kind of love is Victor looking for?"

I don't need Harrison to confirm this, it's obvious that he's lying. Well… he wasn't lying, but he wasn't completely honest either. Yes, he's obsessed with taking care of everyone, but… It's more like… a habit. I don't know… or… unfulfilled desire… Projection, maybe?… No one cared about him, so he's doing this for others?........

Kate was more honest when Vivi asked her the same question. She said that despite the fact she had seen many very strange expressions of love today… and she began to understand the difficulties associated with spending her life with one person, but…

It's a very sweet dream… And look at him… he fully shares her dream. But he decided to NOT said it out loud and pretend to be a clown again. Sad…

Don't talk like it's not going to be you or… to be completely honest… already you.

In the epilogue, she thought that she wants Vivi to love her, and the way her heart stops all the time is a great hint of this as well. SO… we are already in the middle of his route. BUT it hasn't been released yet. The paradox.

I will only mention this from the epilogue…

Now I'm curious to see…

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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[cherryblossomcowgirl]

The One That Got Away

WC: 1.7k

WARNINGS: Angst; Fluff; Miscommunication

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The plane lands and I step out into the California air. It’s been 6 years since I’ve set foot here, but the memories hit me like a brick wall. My ‘One That Got Away’ floods my mind. The perfect blonde hair and green eyes. The smug smirk he wore more often than not. I try to shake the thoughts out of my head. I remind myself, we are here for work. Not for Jake Seresin. Once I get in the rental car, I head to the site of my new coffee shop. I opened my first cafe 4 years ago back home in Austin. Sassy’s Books and Brews has taken off, expanding faster than I could have ever imagined. When my development team said California was the next move, the ache in my heart returned. It’s been 6 years and here I am, wondering if he still thinks about me.

.

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My creative director hugs me outside of the cafe, “Y/n, this is amazing! It’s all come together. This is going to be a hit!” I chuckle nervously, “I hope so. How’s the social media response for the grand opening tomorrow?” She beams at me, “Ah-ma-zing. We already have 20k followers on the instagram ALONE!” I smile and scan the cafe over one last time. Checking my watch, I sigh, “I’m going to head to the hotel and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day. Thank you for everything, you’re outstanding.” At the hotel, I shut myself in the room and order room service. There’s a Harry Potter marathon on, so I fall asleep thinking about a magical world.

.

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My alarm startles me awake. After hair, makeup, and changing my outfit ten times, I drive over for the big event. Local news is already filling the sidewalk out front. There is a line all the way around the corner. All the baristas are ready to go. I put on a large smile and open the doors, “Welcome to Sassy’s Books and Brews! C’mon in y’all!” I join my baristas behind the counter as the crowd files in. Part of me is wondering if he will walk in those doors. Another part of me is angry at myself for even entertaining the thought. I focus on keeping the line moving, pushing Jake out of my mind. We are busy all day long, so I make sure each barista gets the breaks they need. The team here is amazing and I have no doubt they have what it takes to keep the shop running smooth. There’s finally a moment of calm around 8 pm, right before closing. I send the baristas home, thanking them for their work today. There are a few people sitting around, reading and chatting. A smile spread across my face as I remember the day I decided to open these cafes. My dream was to have a place where everyone felt at home, surrounded by literature and good drinks. The door chime brings me back to reality, I look up only to meet those green eyes. Jake smirks as he walks towards the counter, “I had to stop by to see if it was really you.” I lean on the counter, “Well Jake, here I am. Can I get you anything?” “I’ll take a black coffee.” He tries to hand me cash but I refuse, “It’s on the house.” I hand him his coffee and he raises an eyebrow, “How have you been? Your hair is darker.” “I’ve been good. Yourself?” He shrugs, “Same here. It’s been a long time, Y/n.” I look down at my hands, “Yes it has.” He leans in, “Mom called when you opened your first cafe. Said she goes there all the time.” Nodding, I smile, “She does. Always makes my day seeing Cyndy.” He rubs his hand through his hair, “When do you close? Maybe we could go somewhere and… catch up?” For a moment I want to say yes, but then the memories of the heartbreak resurface. I swallow the lump in my throat, “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Jake.” Sadness washes over his face, “Well, I’ll see you around. Thank you for the coffee.” As I watch him walk away, my heart aches. How can I be angry at someone and still want them at the same time?

.

.

Jake stops by the shop every morning for the rest of the week. Every time I see him walking up, I make myself busy in the back. I’m only here for the next few weeks to make sure the shop starts off on the right foot, then I can go home and leave these thoughts of Jake behind. It’s Friday night, right before closing and I send the rest of the staff home. Lots of people are sitting around, playing board games and laughing. I get comfy behind the counter, rereading Sherlock for the umpteenth time. “Evening, Y/n. Long week?” Jake smiles as I stand up, getting him a black coffee, “Very. Happy about the turnout.” He takes a sip, “Any chance we could talk?” I check my watch, “We close in 5 minutes, you could hang around while I clean up.” A smile spreads across his whole face. People head out and I flip the open sign to closed, starting the long process of cleaning the machines and shutting everything off for the night. Jake clears his throat, “I’ve missed you.” I sigh, “Jake…” “Not just like that. You were my best friend for as long as I can remember. When our relationship ended, I wasn’t ready for our friendship to end too.” Tears start to form in my eyes and I turn away from him, “I didn’t know how to go back to best friends.” “Did you get my letters?” When I finally meet his eyes again, they’re searching mine for any answer. I nod. “Did you read them?” I shake my head. The stack of letters is in a box in my office. Unopened. Unread. The only guy I had dated that I thought could work found them one day. He broke up with me, saying that I wouldn’t have kept them if I didn’t care about him. I fiddle with the espresso machine, “I have them. I just couldn’t read them, Jake.” He walks behind the counter, wiping the tear that fell down my cheek. His touch sends a shiver down my spine. It always has. His voice lowers, “Just tell me why.”

.

.

*6 years before*

Our love story was like a cheesy movie. We grew up together. Jake was 2 years older than me. Wherever he went, I followed. All throughout school, our neighborhood, even summer vacations. Jake and Y/n. Our Mom’s always joked that we would grow up and get married. When we were young we’d respond, “Ewww!!!!”. But as we got older, the feelings started to change. My crush on Jake grew and grew. He went to college at UT, then a couple years later I got accepted too. He helped me set up my freshman dorm and he looked different. More toned. More tan. Jake was no longer the tall and awkward teenage boy, but a strong and beautiful man. I didn’t know how he felt about me. I was too scared to ask him. Jake was so popular around campus, he could have any girl he wanted. One night I was walking back to my dorm crying. Some boy had asked me out, but never showed up at the restaurant. I was so embarrassed. Jake was coming out of the library when he ran up to me. He took me back to his apartment and he turned on one of our favorite movies to make me feel better. That night, he looked at me different. There was something in his eyes. That’s when he kissed me for the first time. The rest was history. When he graduated, he went off to boot camp and started his military career. I was so proud of him. He wrote to me whenever he could. He even made it back for my graduation, just to surprise me. But that night, everything changed. Jake told me about his new dream, being a Navy Pilot. I smiled, “Where will you be out of? Corpus?” He looked down, “Florida for a few weeks. Then I want to go to Top Gun… in California.” My brain tried to figure out a new plan. One where I could keep my new job I was so excited about, but somehow be wherever Jake is. The panic set in and he grabbed my hands, “Marry me. I don’t have a ring but I’ll get you one. Come with me, please.” Tears filled my eyes, “Jake… I… I can’t.” He stood there, shocked, as I ran away crying.

.

.

*Present day*

I take a deep breath, “I came here looking for you, Jake. 6 years ago. Cyndy told me where to find you. When I got to the bar, I saw you taking a girl back to your truck. Y’all left. I figured you had moved on and I couldn’t be angry at you because I was the one that ended everything. So I went back home.” His eyes well up, “I’m an idiot. Some rebound, one night stand kept the love of my life away?” I whisper, “I didn’t know. Jake, I was so scared.” He put his face in his hands, “I’m the one that changed the plan. I was gonna stay in Texas. We could’ve been together. I just fell in love with flying. I’m sorry.” I place my hand on his shoulder, “Don’t apologize, Jake. I am happy for you. You wouldn’t have been happy if you stayed in Texas.” His green eyes meet mine, “But I would have you.” “We were kids. Who knows if we would’ve made it.” He rests his hand on top of mine, “Do you have someone?” I shake my head, thinking of all of my failed relationships since Jake. He thinks for a moment, “Why?” I close my eyes, debating whether or not I want to tell him. My heart wins the argument against my brain, “Because none of them were you.”

[gamergirlwrites]

Title: Expecting

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Female!Reader

Synopsis: You invite Leon over to tell him some news.

CW: mention of pregnancy

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you waited for Leon. He was on his way to you, possibly panicked in the same way you were. He didn't know yet, but you'd have to tell him. Leon had been gone for long enough that you were pretty sure that he could take one look at you and figure out what this was all about. He had left you months ago without much word, but the fetus growing inside of you was definitely his. You hadn't slept with anybody else, not when you were still holding out for a change of heart.

"(Y/n), open up. It's Leon!" He called out over a couple of quick knocks. You took a deep breath to steady your heart, but it wasn't much use. You were still absolutely freaking out when you opened the door to see him.

Leon looked good. He had never showed up to your door looking bad, but this was a nice change from the usual suit you saw him in. The leather jacket reminded you of the guys you had always been too scared to date in college. His chest was practically straining against his shirt, as were the muscle in his legs with his jeans. You were sure that a big part of his affect on you was hormonal, but all you wanted to do was climb him like a tree.

"Come in, and you'll probably want to sit down for this," you warned. Leon seemed skeptical, but still did as you said. "Okay, so, um, I'm pregnant."

"I've been gone for a long time," Leon said. He didn't seem upset, which was a good thing. However, you noticed that he didn't exactly seem happy either.

"There hasn't been anybody else in almost a year, so I think it's safe to assume that you're the father," you told him. You didn't mean to sound so short with him, but you couldn't help it. "I know that you're not the relationship type, so I don't expect anything special. I just wanted to let you know, give you that option."

"I won't just leave you to raise our baby by yourself. I've been staying in Colorado, but it's definitely time that I come back to DC again. There will always be secrets, but if you give me a chance I won't throw it away," Leon promised you.

"Alright, I like the sound of you being around more. And Colorado, seriously? Not even a phone call." You shoved his shoulder back, and Leon just flopped back against your couch. You turned away to hide the evidence of your amusement. Everything considered, Leon always knew how to make you laugh.

"Do you know the sex yet? If you'd let me, I would love to help with the name and some other stuff. I can put the nursery together here, I'm pretty capable with my hands." You paused for a moment as you listened to Leon. He was offering himself up, that much was obvious. The man who had run at the first sight of feelings before was openly asking for involvement.

"A girl, and some help with the name would be great. I've been driving myself crazy trying to come up with one. I know it's short notice, but I've got a doctor's appointment tomorrow if you wanted to join me?" You tried not to sound too hopeful, but Leon didn't hide his excitement at your invitation at all.

[lv9su]

Everything inside me is stone.

Levi Ackerman x reader

I’ve wanted to write for him for so long this man is so fine💆🏾‍♀️ also this is based on the earlier seasons of aot

Age gap!!! Slightly toxic.. Angst, Forbidden Love (sorta) lots of sexual tension, always use of y/n, Levi being stubborn and you being stubborn back. 💋

~

Right now you weren’t in a.. strange predicament. Were you on top of Eren on the training grounds? Yes, but not in the way you might think. Why? Because you paired up for sparring, and you were very annoyed before this session started.

Let’s take it back to the reason why. The last conversation you had before everyone met for training. Maybe the word argument would be more fitted.

“Why do you keep on pushing me away?” You asked, getting frustrated at the sight of Levi getting out of the bed, cleaning the room you two had left a mess and finding clothes to get dressed. But you were having none of it.

“I’m not pushing you away, I’m protecting you.” Levi said, his back turned to you.

“Yes you are!? You know I can protect myself? You don’t need to isolate yourself from me.” Your voice began raising.

“I’m not the right person for you y/n. Since you’re so smart you should understand the risks of us! Whatever this is.” He turned around, pointing his finger between the both of you. He was self sabotaging because he felt you could do better than an older emotionally scarred man who just so happens to be the leader of your squad.

You felt the anger rise inside, and sure you could’ve screamed and yelled in his dumb face for saying what he said. Instead you were so angry tears pooled in your eyes, and you tried to hide it. Messily putting on your clothes you mumbled enough for him, to aggravated to speak normally.

“Fine.” You pulled on your white jeans.

“Whatever.” You began buttoning up your shirt.

“Just fuck off.” You hissed as his hands reached to help you button up since you being frantic.

You put on your socks and boots, the rest of your uniform in your room. “Leave me alone.”

He knew he’d fucked up. But seeing tears in your eyes, and your bottom lip quivering, he realised that was something he never wanted to see.

But why? It was so wrong. But when it was just the two of you it was so right.

It all started one drunken night three months ago began a kind of relationship you would’ve never ever expected to happen with Levi. Ackerman. Your. Captain.

I mean sure you always found him attractive, and he seemed to tolerate you more than anyone else in your scout group. He definitely did call you a Brat pretty much every day, but he didn’t ever insult you. Everyone else figured it was just favouritism when he’d tell everyone to fuck off and figure out their own shit except when it came to you he spoke in a normal tone. Needed help with the gear? He’d be behind you, guiding your arms and showing you what to do. Wanted to spar with him? He’d teach you new moves and would be very physical but not enough to hurt you, just for the sake of touch. You were thirsty? He’d make tea for the both of you. And so on.

You pretended to be oblivious to all of this, but in your mind you couldn’t help but daydream and zone out imagining what it’d be like with him.

“Thinking about the captain” Sasha nudged your arm as your hand rested on your face. She giggled as she sipped her alcoholic beverage. Yes, would absolutely were.

“No!!!! Shut up.” You slightly chuckled and rolled your eyes, as you began drinking a little more.

“Y’know y/n, if you change your mind and want someone your own age im your perfect match.” Jean winked at you, slurring his words and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“You need to sit down.” You grinned at the sight, standing up and sitting him down where you were sat.

You walked out of the tavern and sat outside in the dark, kissed by the moonlight and wrapped around the late night breeze of the summer. Everyone was here celebrating the recent mission, less people killed by titans and an increase in the titans being killed. That’s what it’s all about right? Until the next mission there’d most likely be some intense training so the plan was to try and have some fun while you still could.

“I’m surprised you’re with that lanky piece of shit. Out of everyone.” You heard from behind, not needing to look behind since you recognised the voice right away. He sat beside you, and you hummed questioningly.

“Tch don’t play dumb brat. Jean. The lanky horse-” you laughed and cut him off.

“I’m not with Jean. And it seems, someone was stalking me.” You smirk, speaking with the liquid confidence.

“I’m taking you back to headquarters. You’ve had too much to drink.” He rolled his eyes at you.

When you got back, one thing led to another and the next morning you were tangled in his sheets naked. Before you woke he left to make tea, except you woke while he was gone and assumed he’d just left. So you did too. And when he saw you were gone from his room he realised you might’ve thought it was a mistake. But he couldn’t blame you if you did.. he was older, there was a pretty big power dynamic and he came to the conclusion that is was for the good that he was alone. If he formed an emotional attachment there was always the chance he could lose you.

But you ignoring him? He didn’t like that. He tolerated 1 day of being ignored by you before he hollered you into his office and well.. let’s just say this time you were both sober when you did it.

After that you both said that it wouldn’t continue.. but it did. More often than not. You had fucked in his office, his room, your room, the stables, in the shower, in the forest and empty rooms. But as much as there was lust, there was sweet moments that were dates in disguise. Long talks, walks, rides, play fights, sparring in feilds and then having a picnic, slow dances and admiration. But hey what was more romantic than slaying titans together.

Back in the present.

“Cmon y/n, are you even trying?” Eren mocked as the two of you sparred, except you were thinking about the argument you’d had with him this morning.

So after a swift kick to the legs - which Levi taught you how to do - dropping him to the floor within seconds. And in that amount of time you’d began throwing punch after punch after punch. Poor eren. Too bad he underestimated you at a time like this.

“OKAY MISSY!!” Hange shouted in a high pitched voice as she grabbed the back of your arms and pulled you off of him. “You doin’ okay up there sweets?” She raised a brow moving closer to your face and tapping your head. You nodded and she rubbed your arm before you walked away.

Levi watched you the whole entire time.

Hange walked back over to where they sat. “You outta go get your girl short stack.” She smirked.

He went silent for a second, unsure of how to respond “what’re you talking about four eyes.”

“Oh don’t play dumb. I see that look in your eyes, I know you put up this cold front but seems as though she’s melting it down.” She readjusted her glasses “a little young but hmph! I get it. Better go get her before someone else does.”

“Tch. Shut up.” he abruptly stood up and followed in your footsteps.

Eventually catching up as he found you walking in the hq. “I told you to leave me alone” you frowned.

“I’m the one who gives orders around here brat.”

“Go boss around someone else then” you went to walk away and he grabbed your hand.

“No. You’re gonna stay and listen to me.” He began to get annoyed now. “And drop the attitude brat. You know i care, probably too much so quit acting like I don’t. I shouldn’t have pushed you away but I was trying to do what’s best for you. If I keep you to myself you don’t get a chance with any other guy your age.”

“But that’s my decision Levi, and I don’t want any other guy. I want you.” You interrupted, looking into his eyes. He now grabbed your face, and leaned closer “I didn’t say you could talk.” He then glided his thumb over your lower lip.

“It’s dangerous to live in a world like this.” Her brows lifted then caressed your jaw.

“I don’t care about that.” You batted your eyelashes up at him and he kissed you.

~

[kiszjuli]

・── love or leave .ᐟ (L.TY) ; PART 2

(태용) ; fem!reader x lee taeyong

──in which love has always felt like a risk you're not willing to take. but taeyong was someone who makes it feel safe, maybe even possible. falling for him was never part of the plan, and you don't know how to let him stay.

genre. angst. romance. self sabotage. ; tags. bittersweet romance. slightly suggestive. patient! taeyong x guarded reader. emotional conflict. ; w.c. 2.6k

find part one here .ᐟ

the rain picks up, drenching the street in a sheen of wet reflection, and you can hear the quiet rush of water running along the sidewalk. you keep your eyes focused on the ground, unwilling to meet his gaze. taeyong’s silence presses against you, heavy with unspoken things, until he finally steps forward.

“do you think i’m going to keep waiting around for you?” his voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it now, a quiet frustration that you haven’t heard before. “because i can’t. i won’t. i can’t keep giving you pieces of myself only to watch you pull away when it gets real.”

you blink rapidly, trying to ignore the sharp sting in your chest. the words feel too raw, too honest. you try to brush it off, but it’s there—his confession hanging between you, and you can’t erase it.

“i never asked you to wait,” you murmur, voice cracking despite yourself. “this was never supposed to be anything more. i told you that.”

his laugh is dry and humorless, the sound a harsh contrast to the soft patter of the rain. he runs a hand through his wet hair, clearly frustrated, but there’s a vulnerability in his gaze that cuts through the anger.

“you’re right. you told me it wasn’t supposed to be anything. but that doesn’t mean i’m okay with it. i’ve been patient, i’ve been there when you needed me, and i tried to respect your space. but you can’t keep pushing me away without expecting me to eventually walk away too.”

he pauses, letting the words sink in, and when he speaks again, his tone softens, though the firmness remains. “you don’t get to pull me in and then act like it was nothing. like it doesn’t matter to you. it does matter to me. and if that’s something you can’t handle, then i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep waiting around for you to change your mind. i’m not going to keep holding onto something that isn’t real to you.”

there’s a long silence between you two, the rain drenching everything around you in a haze. you feel like you’re standing in a storm—both literal and emotional. his words are final, not harsh, but certain. like he’s finally come to a decision he’s been avoiding.

“you have to choose, y/n. whether this is worth it or not. whether i’m worth it. because i can’t keep chasing after you while you run in the other direction. and i’m not going to wait around for you to decide if you want me.”

he takes a deep breath, eyes locking with yours, holding your gaze steady as though searching for something. “maybe i’m not the one you need. maybe i’m not the one who can make you stop running. but if you need space, if you need time, you need to say it. because i need to know if it’s worth sticking around to find out. or if i should just let go.”

his words hang in the air, heavy and sharp, cutting through the space between you both. you know he’s serious, and for the first time, you realize how much he’s been holding in. how much he’s been willing to give to something that you’ve been unwilling to truly take.

you swallow hard, unsure of how to respond. the reality of the situation is pressing down on you, and you can’t pretend anymore. he’s not asking you to give him all of yourself. he’s asking you to be honest. and maybe that’s what scares you the most. the honesty of it all, the vulnerability, and the fear of what it would mean if you let yourself need him.

the rain falls harder now, but you don’t move. you can feel the weight of the decision pushing down on you, the weight of his quiet but unwavering stance, and the silent question in his eyes. do you let him stay, or walk away?

—

the rain continued to fall heavily, soaking through your clothes, a chill creeping into your bones. the world around you is blurred, a mix of gray and shadows, but in this moment, everything seems to center on taeyong. his gaze is unwavering, though you can see the storm inside him—a turmoil that mirrors the storm above.

his lips are pressed in a tight line, his chest rising and falling with each breath. you want to look away, to avoid the weight of his stare, but something about the way he holds himself forces you to stay grounded in the moment. you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it feels impossible. every word he’s said cuts deeper than you expected, and you can’t help but feel it all. his frustration, his quiet pain, the battle he’s been fighting with himself.

“i can’t keep doing this.” the words are quiet but firm, and they cut through the thick air between you. “i’m not asking for everything. i’m just… asking you to let me know if this—whatever this is—is worth holding onto. or if it’s just me fooling myself. because i’m done pretending i’m okay with how things are.”

your fingers tremble slightly at your sides, but you don’t move. you can’t bring yourself to speak yet, not with the sudden weight of everything crashing down on you. the pressure is unbearable, suffocating even.

“you don’t get it,” you whisper finally, though your voice is small. “i don’t know how to do this… how to be what you need.”

he takes a step closer, his eyes softening just a fraction. “i don’t need anything from you that you’re not ready to give. i just need you to be honest with me. are you going to keep running, or are you going to let me in?” his voice is steady, but there’s a quiet desperation now, an unspoken plea beneath the surface.

a shudder runs through you, not from the cold, but from the fear of it all. the fear of admitting that you’ve let someone this close, that you’re not sure you’re capable of giving back what he’s offering. you’ve been afraid of what it would mean if you did. but standing here, with him so close, with his words echoing in the silence, you can’t ignore it any longer.

“i don’t know how to let go of everything i’ve been guarding,” you murmur, barely audible above the sound of the rain. “i’ve never let anyone in like this. i don’t know how.”

for the briefest moment, his expression softens, and you think you see something—understanding, maybe even a touch of sympathy. but it fades quickly, replaced by the guarded resolve that’s taken its place.

“i get it,” he says, his voice gentle now, almost like he’s trying to soothe you. “but you can’t keep holding onto that forever, y/n. not when there’s something between us. you don’t get to ask for me to keep waiting while you stay in this place where nothing can happen. you can’t shut me out completely and expect me to just be fine with it. i won’t be. not anymore.”

the words hit like a punch to the gut. you feel like you’ve been standing in this downpour forever, but the tension between you two feels like it’s grown years older in mere seconds. he’s laid it all out, his heart in the open, and it’s terrifying in a way you can’t quite explain. the rain is getting harder, and it’s starting to feel like it’s pressing down on you both, filling every silence, every space, with its relentless rhythm.

“i’m not asking for you to have all the answers right now,” he continues, his voice quiet but resolute. “but i need to know if you’re still willing to try. because i’m not going to waste my time waiting for something that you’re not ready to give.” he inhales sharply, the words spilling out before he can stop them. “i’m not asking you to love me, y/n. not yet. but i need to know if you’re willing to take a step towards me. i need to know if you’re still here, or if this is where we end.”

the silence that follows is deafening. you try to hold onto something, anything—an excuse, a reason not to answer, but the words feel stuck in your throat. your chest tightens, and you want to say something, but nothing seems enough. nothing seems right.

taeyong shifts his weight, a quiet sigh escaping him as he rubs his hand across his face, pushing back the frustration threatening to overtake him. his shoulders slump, just slightly, and you know he’s fighting a battle of his own. his eyes flicker back to yours, and this time, there’s no anger, no harshness. just that quiet, searching look—the look of someone who’s giving everything but doesn’t know if it will be enough.

you want to say something, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. the storm inside you feels even more intense now, swirling in your chest, and you don’t know what to do with it. your heart is racing, and yet, there’s a part of you that feels like you’re still frozen, unsure of what comes next.

the rain continues to pour down, the world around you turning into nothing more than a blur of water and sound. you’re not sure how long you stand there, trapped between your own hesitation and taeyong’s quiet resolve, but the tension is thick—unavoidable, suffocating.

and still, you say nothing.

—

the rain is relentless now, your clothes now clinging to your skin like a second weight you can’t shake off. it makes it harder to speak, harder to breathe, but the way taeyong is looking at you—the way he’s standing there, waiting for something.

but your silence stretches too long. his jaw tenses, and his hands curl into fists at his sides before he exhales sharply.

“i get it,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “that’s my answer, isn’t it?”

“no—” you step forward, but he’s already turning away, the rain blurring the edges of his figure.

he’s leaving.

panic flares in your chest, drowning out every hesitation that’s kept you from speaking until now.

“taeyong.”

your voice wavers, barely cutting through the storm, but it’s enough to make him stop. his shoulders stiffen, and for a moment, he doesn’t turn back. you can’t see his face, can’t tell if he’s giving you a last chance or if he’s already decided that this is it.

the rain pounds against the pavement between you, filling the space where words should be. your pulse is hammering. you don’t know if you can say it, don’t know if he’ll even believe you if you do.

but you have to try.

“i love you,” you say, the words spilling out, rough and unsteady.

taeyong turns then, slowly, his expression unreadable beneath the streaks of rain sliding down his face. his dark eyes search yours, but he doesn’t move toward you. “then why do you keep pushing me away?” his voice is quiet, but it cuts through everything. “why do you act like i’m someone you have to be scared of?”

your throat tightens. “because i am scared.”

something flickers across his face, but he doesn’t interrupt.

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to keep going. “i’m scared because i love you, and the last time i loved someone, they broke me.” your voice shakes, your heart beating so fast it physically hurts. “and i don’t know how to trust that you won’t do the same.”

the confession leaves you breathless, like you’ve just opened a wound you spent years trying to patch up. you don’t know what to expect, but taeyong doesn’t look away. he’s fully focused on you, rain dripping from his lashes, his lips slightly parted like he’s trying to find the right words.

and then he exhales, his features softening just enough for you to see it—the understanding, the hurt, the way he’s piecing everything together.

“i’m not them, y/n,” he says, voice steady despite the storm around you. “i would never be them.”

you nod, but the fear is still there, tangled with the love in your chest. “i know,” you whisper. “but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

for a moment, neither of you move. the rain keeps falling, soaking you both to the bone, but it’s like neither of you feel it anymore. it’s just him. just you. and the truth between you.

then, finally, taeyong sighs. he lifts a hand to his hair, pushing back the wet strands clinging to his forehead, and when he looks at you again, there’s something steadier in his gaze.

“you don’t have to have all the answers right now,” he murmurs. “but i need to know—do you want me to stay?”

your chest tightens. “yes.”

his lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it so easily. but it’s the truth. it always has been.

slowly, cautiously, taeyong takes a step toward you. his hand lifts, hesitates, then settles gently against your cheek, his palm warm despite the cold. his thumb brushes over your skin, grounding you in a way nothing else has tonight.

“then let me,” he whispers. “let me love you the way you deserve.”

you close your eyes for a second, leaning into his touch, rain slipping between his fingers. and when you open them again, he’s still there. still waiting.

you don’t know if you’re ready. but you know you don’t want to lose him.

so you nod. just enough for him to see it. just enough for him to stay.

and this time, when taeyong pulls you into his arms, you let him.

—

taeyong holds you close, his arms tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. you press your forehead against his chest, listening to the unsteady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the layers of soaked fabric. it’s fast, but steady. just like him.

the rain continues to pour, drenching you both, but neither of you make a move to step away. not yet.

you feel his breath against your hair when he finally speaks. “i’m not gonna say that love isn’t scary.” his voice is low, quiet, but there’s something certain in it. “but i can promise that i won’t leave you to figure it out alone.”

something in your chest cracks open at his words. he’s not asking you to be fearless. he’s just asking you to let him be here—with you, beside you, through it all.

you pull back just enough to meet his gaze. his eyes search yours, patient, waiting. you don’t know what to say, so you just nod.

taeyong exhales, a small, almost disbelieving smile flickering across his lips before he brushes his thumb along your cheek again, wiping away water—rain, maybe tears, you don’t know.

“okay,” he murmurs.

and then, finally, he leans in.

the kiss is slow and careful, like he’s letting you set the pace. his lips are warm despite the cold, the press of his mouth against yours a silent promise that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere.

and for the first time in a long time, you believe it.

when you finally break apart, the world feels quieter, softer, despite the storm still raging around you. taeyong rests his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you steady.

“let’s go home,” he murmurs, and this time, when he reaches for your hand, you don’t hesitate.

you lace your fingers through his, and together, you step forward—through the rain, into the unknown, into whatever comes next.

but this time, you’re not alone.

—

▸ sorry for the wait !! i got like a jumble of ideas for other fics at the time i started writing this

▸ i hope this is a good enough ending, i kinda lost ideas for it lmao

[theangryman]

yeah, my boss and my clients and the nice Mexican food truck man only call me a man because they are deeply concerned that i might off myself otherwise

they don’t even know i’m transgender, they just pick up that i attempt suicide any time anyone even insinuates that i’m actually a woman and the boss is getting sick of having to reschedule everything around my inpatient stays and sex change surgeries

i’m not sure how im supposed to “stop playing pretend” here - do i need to loudly announce “HEY I HAVE A UTERUS DESPITE ALL APPEARANCES TO THE CONTRARY” every time i enter a Walmart? do i need to commandeer the intercom?

[starrylanex]

bf!dean having to see reader take one for the team and flirt/make themselves bait for a pervy witness during a mission. I'm just wanting to see how hard it would be for him to restrain himself from stepping in or him having to step in if things get out of hand 🤍

Thank you Pookie 😘

COST OF THE JOB, D. WINCHESTER

wordcount: 1,2k; warnings: a creepy guy, readers uncomfortable but dean comes in and saves the day.

an: hi angels, this has been in my drafts for way too long now so I think its fair it finally sees the daylight lol, so sorry to the person that requested this, but here it is now✨

———

The second Sam briefed all of you on the plan, you knew it was going to be a problem.

Not because the mission itself was complicated, just a simple case of a missing person, tied to a local creep with enough ties to the supernatural world to be suspicious. No, the problem was the role you were being asked to play.

"Carl Jennings," Sam had explained, tossing a file onto the motel room table. "Owns a bar downtown, last person to see our vic before she disappeared. Cops questioned him, but he claimed she left alone. No leads since."

You flipped the file open, scanning the contents. The guy's face was plastered across one of the pages, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a face that made your gut twist. Not because he looked particularly intimidating, but because you recognized the type.

Sleazy. Overconfident. The kind of man who thought women were owed to him.

Dean leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "So, what? We knock on his door, ask real nice?"

Sam shook his head. "He's not gonna talk to us. But," he turned to you, "he's got a type."

You groaned, already seeing where this was going.

"Great." You dragged a hand down your face. "Let me guess, I'm the bait."

Sam hesitated before nodding. "He likes younger women, especially ones who act... interested. If we send you in, maybe you can get him talking."

Silence.

Dean hadn't said anything yet.

You glanced at him, expecting at least a grunt of disapproval, but he was just staring at the file. Too quiet. Too still.

Oh, yeah. He hated this.

"Dean?" you said, his name sounding more like a question.

His jaw clenched. "Do we really need to do it this way?"

Sam sighed. "Dean—"

"No, seriously," Dean cut in, his voice sharp. "There's gotta be another way. We can corner him after hours, rough him up a little—"

You snorted. "Yeah, because nothing says 'please tell us everything you know' like breaking someone's nose."

Dean shot you a look, but you ignored it, closing the file and pushing it away. "Look, I get it. This isn't exactly my dream gig, either, but if this is the best way to get him to talk, then I'll do it."

Dean exhaled sharply through his nose, leaning forward to brace his forearms against his knees. He ran a hand over his mouth, visibly trying to reel himself in. "I don't like it."

"I know." You placed a hand on his knee, squeezing lightly. "I don't either, but I can handle myself."

Dean's eyes flicked to yours, something passing through them. Something tight and reluctant, something that said I know you can handle it. I just don't want you to have to. But he didn't argue.

And that's how you ended up here. with Dean Winchester sitting few tables away from you pissed.

And honestly? You couldn't blame him. 

Because if the roles were reversed, if it were him sitting at the bar, laughing a little too sweetly at some pervy woman's joke, letting her place a hand on his arm, leaning in just enough to give the illusion of interest, you'd probably be throwing chairs. 

But the job was the job, and you knew what had to be done. 

It didn't make it easier. 

You could feel Dean's eyes on you from across the bar, burning into the side of your face, hot and searing. You didn't need to look to know that his jaw was clenched so tight he was probably grinding his teeth, that his fingers were wrapped too tight around his beer bottle, that he was seconds from saying screw the mission and stomping over here just to deck this guy for breathing in your direction. 

And honestly? You wouldn't have minded. 

Because this guy, Carl? Craig? Who cared, was exactly the type you hated dealing with. The kind of man who thought confidence and sleaze were the same thing, who assumed that a polite laugh was an invitation, that the way you leaned in closer was because you wanted to, not because you were trying to get him talking. 

You had the routine down to an art. Light touches. Tilt of the head. Biting your lip just enough. A perfectly timed giggle. And it was working, he was spilling information between flirty comments and drawn-out stories about himself. 

Then he placed a hand on your thigh. 

Every muscle in your body tensed. 

You swallowed the disgust curling in your throat, forcing a breathy laugh as if that wasn't your cue to get the hell out of here. As if your skin wasn't crawling under his touch. 

It's fine. You've done worse. It's just a hand. 

And then he leaned in. 

His breath was hot against your ear, his voice dropping into something meant to be seductive but landed more on the side of stomach-churning.

"You're even prettier up close," he murmured. "Bet you taste just as sweet." 

Oh, hell no.

Before you could react, before you could push him off, before you could figure out whether breaking his nose would blow the mission, he was gone. One second he was next to you, and the next, Dean was in his place, standing between you like an immovable wall, broad and solid and yours.

Oh, shit. 

You barely registered the sound of the guy stumbling back, his confused "Who the hell are you?" barely processing because your brain was still catching up with the fact that Dean had moved.

Because Dean Winchester never let personal feelings get in the way of a mission. Not when it mattered. 

But this? This was you. 

His restraint had been stretched too thin, too fast. 

And now? Now that elastic band had snapped.

"Her boyfriend." Dean's voice was rough, clipped, the kind of dangerous that had made grown men twice his size back down without a second thought. 

The guy scoffed, glancing at you like he expected you to deny it. When you didn't, he rolled his eyes. "Jesus, relax, man. She was into it." 

Your stomach churned. You were so close to just decking this guy yourself, mission be damned, but Dean's grip on the bar was white-knuckle tight, and you knew if you so much as exhaled wrong, he'd finish what he started. 

You placed a hand on his back, fingers curling into his shirt, not to stop him, but to ground him. To tell him I'm okay. I've got this.

Dean exhaled sharply through his nose, tension radiating through his body. "Yeah, well, work's over," he gritted out. "So why don't you take your slimy hands and crawl back into whatever hole you came from, huh?" 

The guy held up his hands in mock surrender, muttering something under his breath as he walked off, and only then did you feel Dean's body loosen under your touch. The moment the guy was out the door, Dean turned to you, scanning your face like he expected to find something broken. Like he was waiting for an excuse to go after the guy and finish the job.

"You okay?" His voice was softer now, hands finding your waist, pulling you in like he needed to feel you close.

You sighed, letting yourself relax into him, just for a second. "I had it under control, De." 

Dean huffed, eyes flicking to where the guy had disappeared. "Yeah, well, my self-control only goes so far." 

Your lips twitched. "I noticed." 

Dean ran a hand down his face, exhaling deeply. "Next time, I'm taking the pervy witness." 

You grinned, tilting your head. "Sure when you grow a pair of boobs."

Dean smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple, warm and steady and safe.

"Might as well."

[valyriandreamer]

𝔖ummer 𝔑ights

summary: the red keep gardens look extremely welcoming late at night. especially to the two last royals of the targaryen dynasty.

paring: aegon targaryen iii x targaryen!reader

part one - 𝔊reen and 𝔅lack (can be read separately)

part two - 𝔖hared 𝔖orrow (can be read separately but recommend before this read)

The days after that quiet moment by the fire slowly began to change the rhythm of your life with Aegon. It wasn’t a grand shift — nothing ever seemed to be with him. But there was a difference, a subtle one. He would sit closer to you now, let the silence stretch between you without it feeling so heavy, so suffocating. His presence was no longer so distant, as if he was learning to be comfortable in it and with you.

It was still awkward at times — more often than not, really. The two of you were young and had never really known each other before your marriage. The divide between your families during the war had kept you apart for much of your lives, and the weight of that tension still lingered in the air when you thought too much about it. But here, in the small moments that you shared, there was something new blooming.

One evening, you found yourselves sitting together once more, this time in the gardens of the Red Keep. The autumn air was cool, and the scent of the sea drifted on the breeze. The sky above was a soft, dusky blue, the sun having just dipped below the horizon. Aegon sat beside you on the stone bench, his posture stiff as always, his dark eyes scanning the horizon as though lost in thought.

You tugged your cloak tighter around your shoulders, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. He hadn’t said much, but that wasn’t unusual. What was unusual, however, was the fact that he had suggested coming here at all. You had spent so much of your early marriage in the silence of the Red Keep’s chambers that the open air felt almost strange.

"I… didn’t know you liked the gardens," you said softly, trying to coax him into conversation.

Aegon shrugged, his eyes still fixed ahead. "I don’t mind them."

It was a simple answer, as most of his were, but you didn’t let the conversation drop there.

"They’re beautiful this time of year," you ventured, looking around at the softly glowing lanterns and the last of the summer blooms. "The leaves are just beginning to change."

He nodded, but his gaze remained distant. You couldn’t help but smile at his reluctance. He always seemed to hover on the edge of engagement, never fully committing to a conversation unless you gave him enough space.

"You know, when I was a child, I used to imagine myself living in a small cottage surrounded by a garden like this," you said, a little more brightly. "Far away from the court. Somewhere peaceful."

Aegon turned to look at you then, his brow furrowing slightly. "A cottage? You wanted to leave the court?"

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "I didn’t want to leave, not really. I just… imagined it. A quiet place, far from all the... noise."

He considered that for a moment, his gaze shifting from you to the gardens around you. "It sounds nice," he admitted quietly, and there was something almost wistful in his tone.

You glanced over at him, surprised. There were times when you caught glimpses of the boy he must have been before the war before everything had hardened him. It was moments like this that made you wonder what could have been had your families not been so torn apart.

"I think you’d like it," you said gently, your voice soft. "Somewhere quiet, just the two of us."

The words hung in the air between you, and you saw Aegon’s jaw tighten slightly, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable, but not in the way he usually was. This wasn’t the stiff formality of court life: this was something else, something more personal.

"I’m not… used to that," he muttered after a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Being with someone. Talking like this."

You nodded, understanding. It hadn’t been easy for you, either. Your marriage had started with little more than oaths and the weight of expectation, two strangers bound together by circumstance. But slowly, you were learning to navigate each other.

"Neither am I," you admitted, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "But we’re figuring it out, aren’t we?"

He looked up at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, to your surprise, he gave you an awkward smile, nodding stiffly at you.

The awkwardness lingered, as it always did with Aegon. Yet there was something softer in the air between you now. You watched as he glanced at his hands, fingers twisting together as though unsure of what to do with them, and you felt a flicker of warmth towards him. He was trying, even if neither of you knew quite how to bridge the gap that still existed.

"I think..." you began hesitantly, "it’s all right that we’re not used to this. It’s not as though anyone ever taught us how to... well, be with each other."

Aegon shifted beside you, giving a noncommittal grunt. But he didn’t pull away, and that in itself felt like progress. You wondered if, like you, he had spent years learning to build walls. The war, your families’ animosity, the pressures of the court — it had all left marks on both of you, invisible but deep.

"I always thought," you continued, "that marriage would feel... easier. Like in the songs they sing." You laughed lightly, half-embarrassed at admitting such a thing. "That or it would be horrid, like my parents. But it’s not like that, is it?"

"No," Aegon muttered, almost too quietly for you to hear. He glanced at you then, his eyes still wary but with a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "It’s not."

"I don’t think the songs get it right," you said softly, smiling a little. "They leave out all the... uncomfortable bits."

Aegon snorted, a small, almost reluctant sound of amusement. His lips curved just the tiniest bit, the ghost of a smile. "Maybe they’re not meant to be real."

"Maybe not." You turned your gaze back to the gardens, watching as the wind rustled through the leaves, some already turning golden and red. "But I think this, what we’re doing now, learning to... talk, to understand each other — it’s worth more than any song."

Aegon was silent for a moment, and you wondered if you’d said too much. But then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke again, his voice low and hesitant.

"Do you really think... it could be like that? Just the two of us somewhere quiet?"

You glanced at him, surprised. His expression was guarded, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. It was the first time he had ever truly acknowledged the possibility of something more between you. Something real.

"I think..." you said slowly, choosing your words with care, "it could be, yes. If we both wanted it."

Aegon’s brow furrowed slightly, as though he was trying to puzzle out the weight of your words. He shifted again, clearly uncomfortable, but he didn’t retreat. Instead, he nodded, more to himself than to you.

"I’ve never wanted anything like that," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t... think it was possible for me."

Your heart ached a little at the quiet confession. You reached out, hesitating for just a moment before gently placing your hand on his. His fingers tensed beneath yours, but he didn’t pull away.

"Maybe it is," you said softly. "For both of us."

He didn’t say anything, but his hand shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against yours. It wasn’t much — just a fleeting, awkward touch — but it was enough to make your chest tighten with something warm and hopeful.

The silence stretched on, but it didn’t feel heavy this time. It felt like something had shifted, something small but important. You weren’t entirely sure what it was, or where it would lead, but for the first time, the future didn’t feel quite so uncertain.

Aegon’s gaze drifted back to the horizon, his posture still stiff, but his hand remained where it was, resting lightly beneath yours. The gardens around you were quiet, the last of the evening light fading into the sea, and for once, the silence between you felt... comfortable.

You squeezed his hand gently, a small gesture of reassurance, and he didn’t pull away. Neither of you said anything more, but in that quiet moment, you both understood — this was enough, for now.

The rest would come in time.