#i know these has been posted already but i just love how he looks here

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 06/01✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do the little monkeys on Flower Fruit mountain ever see at Wukong and Macaque bickering like an old married couple and think to themselves 'just kiss already'?

Yes. They keep doing and Wukong tries to stop them otherwise Macaque could hear them (he already does)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Been reading up on Macaque Body Language and found this: "A peculiar behaviour displayed by macaques is lip smacking. Between macaques, lip smacking is used to show submission, affection and reconciliation. This behaviour is a form of communication and is sometimes accompanied with cooing vocalisations and mild raising of eyebrows." So now I can't stop imaging Monkey King and Macaque just smacking lips and raising eyebrows to each other instead of saying "I love you" or after a fight just smacking lips and then hugging. But then I also started questioning, do the two monkeys in your AU actually use monkey body language to communicate? Or is it just human language they use? Great work on your AU btw! Loving the art and story ^^

Mm some? Like a little but not too much. But that’s an adorable trivia!!

Does macaque know about Wukong's stage fright?👀

Yes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Baby MK lives in my head rent free. If Wukong or Macaque were trappen in the calabash than their perfect world would be one where they could raise mk without him having to fight or get hurt and traumatized

I THINK the fanfiction series Squashed Apricots is just about this if it can interest you.

@abbytheslothwitch ha chiesto: In your AU or your general opinion, which monkey dad is the taller one; Wukong or Macaque?

Macaque

Anonimo ha chiesto: The way you draw Pigsy honestly is one of the best I've seen I mean just look at him!!! He doesn't have the proportions of a regular human because he's not human and it works so well! I dunno he just looks cool in your artstyle and design That all I had to say :]]]]

Thank you so much!!!♥️♥️♥️ He’s honestly quite hard to draw exactly bc of that, but it’s good practice! Him and DBK are generally harder, I’m not super used to draw animals.

@peach-fury ha chiesto: Ello! Sorry, it's me again But just had a thought, sense Macaque has died and went to Dìyù or the underworld. (I think that's were the book of death is) Wouldn't he be at least scared or nervous to go back? Idk like bad memories like their fight or the lady bone demon or something? Idk maybe overthinking or that I just like angsty :P (P.s I fricking love your art and your AU's so much!!!!)

Yes. I believe he wouldn’t like the idea. I like to think he”s actually terrified. But he wouldn’t care less if it means to protect and help his baby.

Anonimo ha chiesto: will MK try to try change his name into nobody or something form of loophole name so that can be like ohhhh nobody us in trouble! Everyone is safeeee! And nezha’s dad is like wait no

Ahah that’s a good idea! Unfortunately that isn’t the plan

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out we know Wukong made the bed because he made it bigger. It's made out of peach tree wood. And carved moon and suns and stars on the headboard.

AWWWW!!😭😭😭😭😭

@a1teruniverse ha chiesto: What's the hardest panel you've drawn

It is a panel if it’s an animation?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will u ever do flash backs for shadowpeach thats “happy” like them first meeting realizing there in love a jealous mac courtnapping the monkey king just being young and in love.

Mmm yeah i wanna do smth like that. Don’t know when or how but i wanna.

Anonimo ha chiesto: does Wukong ever/will ever let glamours down and let like everything hang out like Mac would come in and his husband just causally has his boobs out and he’s like sweet my husband got hotter bc he’s pan(?) like I think you said that in an earlier post

I mean. I don’t think he has any issues dropping his glamours in front of macaque. I don’t think he would stay too much without his glamours bc still, I guess he would have some slight dysphoria. Also I mean, yeah Macaque loves him with or without boobies. But if Wukong could choose he would prefer not to have them out if he can.

Anonimo ha chiesto: which bottle is every ship in your lmk comic chugging? (I’m talking about your red bubble stickers for ao3 tags I would find it but I’m lazyyyh)

Shadowpeach is hurt & comfort (which I saw now I didn’t uploaded but yeah I got that one as well.), slowburn, enemies to lovers, and angst cause- duh.

Spicynoodle I would say is fluff, oneshot, enemies to lovers, found family.

Anonimo ha chiesto: im so embarrassed to ask about this but, later when mk and red boy r dating, who would ask the other first on a date? What would the date be? Also what does dbk and pif personal opinion of their relationship? SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN ASKED BEFORE😭

I think MK, because dates are something a little more human, and cause Red Son is a workaholic. It can either be something like a training session, a videogame session at Red castle, or just also the traffic light trio being competitive. DBK and PIF are supporting, mostly bc they know their family will be even more powerful with an union such as theirs. Of course PIF is supporting also cause MK is Mac baby.

@kandymaneuwu ha chiesto: On a scale of 1 to 10 how fluffy is macaque this is very important

10 with merits

@5hadowm0ch1 ha chiesto: When will Shadowpeach kiss? It's always head-to-head Pats (I'm trying to predict what happening)

b-b-b-b-b- but head-to-head pats are cute…

@majesticgazell ha chiesto: Ooohhh I’m just imagining Li Jing catching wind of the plan and activating MK’s fillet while he’s in the shadows… maybe he wouldn’t lose himself under normal circumstances, but with that thing tightening around his head? 👀 Just a thought

Hehe, isn’t that a possibility?

@nataszaluiz ha chiesto: So I have a few questions. First: do you plan on ending it before Season 6 releases or do you plan on continuing it and mixing it up with your AU? Second: have you heard theories that a fragment of Azure's Soul is placed in the blue flower that appears after it's sacrifice? Third: Will characters like Yellowtusk and Peng appear in your AU?

S6 seems to either happen next year or never, so I ve3ry much hope i finish my story sooner.

no i haven’t

mmmm i don’t know

@cheddarcheesebiscuit1 ha chiesto: I gotta ask, if MK would to ever get injured in his monkie form, then would Macaque/Wukong try to take him to a human doctor or a vet?

I know we all want to see Macaque and Wukong freaking out when their baby is sick, but I think we forget sometimes that, even though they aren’t medics, Wukong has a basic understanding how to heal wounds and medicine. Macaque is head-canoned many times to be an expert in fact. And I think there are demons/demonic doctors in case MK has some kind of curse or demonic sickness, which would be what actually makes them worry in the first place.

@ainnur ha chiesto: Mei and Wukong team up?! Wasabi Duo the party crasher🎉✨ Love them💕 They need more love as a duo

Their name IS WASABI DUO????????? AAAWWWWWW

@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for sparking my LMK hyper fixation and I’m really curious: Will we get more Nezha? How will he react knowing that the Buddha approved this? IF the Buddha approved it at all 👀

Yes you will have plenty of Nezha. Also if youo guys really want to know, yeah, the Buddha themself approved of this. No, Li Jing wasn’t lying.

@saphstories ha chiesto: KYRI PLEASE IF I ASK FOR NOTHING ELSE I NEED TO SEE HELICOPTER AUNT PIF AND UNCLE DBK IN THAT FIGHT BECAUSE *HEAVEN DID WHAT TO THEIR NEPHEW???* And I'm sorry but of freaking course Red Son being the brat he is would call Mommy and Daddy to tattle about how mean Heaven is for stealing his Monkey before he could. 😂😂 Can you tell how insane the extended Monkey Fam makes me? 😂😂😂 I love this AU, I can't wait to see more!

When they heard the news they wanted to come to help attack the palace as well, but Red Son stopped them saying smt like “HE IS MY FUTURE HOUSBAND AND I GET TO KIDNAP HIM OUT OF HEAVEN MOM!”

@anxiousbb-witch ha chiesto: Do I have a reason to fear the possibilities of the golden headband being used on MK and all the emotions and tears coming from it?

oh year, absolutely.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I just have the funny thought that MK woke up one morning in his true form and get jumpscared by looking at himself and see he has boobs again

nooouuuu poor baby! But yeah it’s a funny image

@monkieshad0w ha chiesto: HELLOO HELLOO! What’s ur opinion on sundial duo :D (if you don’t know what sundial duo is, it’s basically Macaque and Wukong being duos and besties but not lovers) :3

oohhh well I do live any pf my ships as besties as well! Platonic love is just as important as romantic one for me personally!

[prettybiching]

Helloooooooo my love. First of all, happy new year! (although it's coming a week late, sorry about that) I hope this year is filled with love and joy for you!!

Secondly, piggybacking off your last reblog, yes desi weddings are so elaborate ahhh!!! I loved the whole experience despite how exhausting and stressful it was as the sister of the bride. there's pre-wedding events, a week long wedding and then the post-wedding events so yeah nearly two months of dedicated wedding festivities lmfao but it was SOOO fun and I'm moving overseas in a few weeks so I definitely had a winter for the books.

NOWWWWWWW, I'm going to be honest, I couldn't help myself and I gave myself some sneak peeks from all the chapters uploaded because every time I get the notification I get SO excited and lemme just say - YOU COOKED AND I HAVE MASSIVE THOUGHTS

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

Oh god, breaking my heart already. Daemon, I can't stand you at times ughhhhhh. What will it take for my poor girl to not have to beg for someone to love her and be considerate to her.

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

This is either going to end horribly or wonderfully and I don't know how to feel about either.

...while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

GIRL NO!!!!!!!!!

PLEASE STOP TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF EVERY OTHER CHAPTER FOR THE SAKE OF MY WELLBEING

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

And there goes my heart again...I'm so mad at Daemon and the chapter has only just begun. I can't get over just how scared she is of telling Daemon about the baby because he will probably accuse her of incest (which would be so fucking ironic HAH) even though deep down he knows she never did any of that he's just emotionally constipated AS HELL. Even Caraxes is going to be done with his ass

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Alexa play "I Think He Knows" by Taylor Swift

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

😭😭😭 STOPPPPP PLEASE SPARE ME

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

Help, I know this is a deeply serious moment but I can't help but laugh at the fact that Arryk whipped out his sword to defend himself against CARAXES

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

OH MY GOD CARAXES CAN SENSE DAEMONS BABY IN HER TUMMY WE'VE GOT MEDIEVAL DNA TEST SOMEBODY GET DAEMON HERE

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

caraxes and reader's bestie arc better start NOW

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Oh my god Arryk stop tattling on my boy Caraxes like that. He was just trying to show some affection and protectiveness!!! It's not his fault that years of bonding with daemon also turned him a little dense and emotionally constipated like his master

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

The way I 100% believe that the foundation of the brothers' relationship is that daemon will ALWAYS do the exact opposite of viserys tells him so the fact that he told daemon to return to his lady wife, it will lead him to run as far away from her as possible (aka stepstones)

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

THIS SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO CRADLE MY HEAD IN MY HANDS AND WEEP BECAUSE WHAT THEY COULDVE BEEN IF DAEMON WASNT SO DENSE AND THICK AND STUPID AND UGHHHHHHH

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

you're so stupid

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

Daemon "I can never comprehend someone being genuinely concerned for me because I never had a mother, I don't remember my father's love and my brother was an even bigger emotionally constipated idiot who can't show me love so I'm going to mistake your love for you doubting my capabilities" targaryen

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

This is so tragic I've started crying again...

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS FUCKER TO RECEIVE THERAPY FROM BRAAVOS OR WHATEVER BECAUSE HIS UNRESOLVED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA AND THE LACK OF PARENTAL LOVE HE RECEIVED IS GOING TO DESTROY THE MC AND I CANNOT STAND FOR IT I WILL DIE

"because I love you."

and im dead. im gone.

"you are mistaken."

"I love you" "It'll pass"

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

FUCK YOU FUCK THE WHOLE TSRGARYEN DYNASTY YOU FILTHY LYING WHORE OF A DRAGON RIDER GO FUCK MYSARIA IN A WIG AND CALL OUT YOUR WIFES NAME AND TELL HER YOU WANT HER BECAUSE YOURE TOO SCARED TO SAY IT TO YOUR WIFE AND GO TO THE SHITTY STEPSTONES SURROUNDED BY NOTHING BUT UGLY LOOKING PIRATES FOR THREE WHOLE YEARS WITH SHITTY FOOD AND SHITTY WINE KJHGRRYVHBEBN LTLV

You nod, "I know."

Author, did you reach inside my brain and find the worst ways to hurt me? BECAUSE THIS HURTS OKAY

BUT IT ALSO FEELS SO GOOD??? WHYS THE ANGST YOU WRITE SO FUCKING GOOD??? IM IN LITERAL TEARS OVER THESE TWO, THE WAY DAEMON MADE HER BEG FOR HIM TO STAY AND IT WAS STILL NOT ENOUGH THE PARALLELS OF HER SAYING IT NEVER SERVES HER WELL ASKING SOMEONE TO STAY

If you're wondering how I'm doing at the end of this, then imagine this - IM IN TEARS and contemplating my existence. But I cannot atop praising you for how GOOD this chapter was. It hit right the spot. Thank youuuuu for yet another masterpiece <3

Tormented Spirit | 10

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN T_T blah blah canon stuff/high valyrian inaccurate blah. please please leave comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon does not come home to you that night. When you awaken, you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of food repulsive though, so you spend the morning looking for your husband, until your body betrays you and feels sick because of not having eaten. You realize that your state is not borne simply from worrying about the prince, but probably also because of this supposed life you carried within you.

You try to deny it though, chalking it up to your mind playing tricks on you. After all, it's laughable that you suddenly experienced these symptoms just after all the fuss of learning you were with child.

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

You'd never been so happy to see the blood wyrm.

"Daemon?" you call out, searching for him.

Caraxes is busy feasting on meat and Arryk is busy watching him, body tense and senses on high alert.

The dragon keeper comes to you, shaking his head, "se dārilaros iksis daor kesīr dombo." The prince is not here anymore.

You understood nothing, save dārilaros, which you knew meant prince, and figure he's probably telling you he is not here, which you could gather from simple observation.

You turn to Caraxes and point, "zaldrīzes." Dragon.

The man brightens, as he understands, "Caraxes."

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head and hands.

You clench your jaw and turn to Caraxes, nodding your head in understanding.

The dragon keeper relaxes.

He mistakes you.

"Arryk," you turn to your ward, "can you come here please?"

Arryk's eyes linger on the dragon a moment before turning to you. You settle him in front of the dragon keeper, and while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

The dragon notices you immediately and watches you near. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, and only then do the two men realize what's happening.

"PRINCESS!" Arryk shouts, sprinting towards you before coming to an abrupt stop.

Enraged, Caraxes cranes his long neck, roaring at Arryk, making him topple back on his bum.

The dragon keeper screams a command and raises his hands.

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

The red creature screeches as snaps his teeth at the two men, causing his keeper to step back and Arryk to crawl back with him.

Caraxes then averts his attention, shaking his head as he circles around you, effectively blocking the two from seeing anything other than his massive, scaly body.

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Your face contorts at the bleating sound it makes. He lowers his head slightly inhaling and exhaling deeply. He makes another noise and you swear to yourself, the creature looks like he's fidgeting.

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

Caraxes screams loudly again when he spots two other dragon keepers come to you from the other side. He threatens them with a snap of his teeth.

"Daor!" they scream in unison. No.

Caraxes seethes and screeches, as if saying, 'do not tell me what to do'.

He circles around you again, and this time, he shoves you forward with his wing. You yelp as you are knocked to the ground with a thud. You manage to brace yourself, grazing your hands as you did, but your chest still hurts at the impact.

The keepers scream in horror because of this, fearing that you would soon be eaten.

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

You whine as you roll on your side. Caraxes growls as he bites your arm. The fear finally sets in as he does this, and his powerful maw pulls you up to sitting position.

The dragon keeper, who ran to retrieve you, shrieks out upon witnessing this.

You gasp when Caraxes roars back, and you squeal when his wing comes over you. The strangest thing occurs to you in that moment, and your heart finally begins to race— not because it sinks in how much danger you were in, but because, suddenly, you knew you were not.

You come to a stand, and with no regard for your safety, you reach out for the dragon's skin, somehow shocked by how warm and hard it is. "Caraxes."

He hears you, though you barely raised your voice. He is sensitive to the sound of his name. Caraxes moves back, pulling away enough to be able to coil his neck and look at you.

The dragon keepers, who were so on edge, altogether fall silent when they see you in the midst of the blood wrym.

Arryk nearly broke into a other sprint upon finally seeing you, but he manages to hold back and lowers his sword, unwilling to sheathe it.

Caraxes produces a sound you think is akin to a mewl, as much as a mewl a ten foot beast could make. You huff and feel your breath hitch. You close your eyes and reach out to him, ready to accept whichever fate awaits you, companionship or death.

You gasp, eyes instantly opening when you feel the wetness on your hands. Caraxes presses his snout to your palms, and you squeak, quickly pulling back at the heat of his huff.

He lifts his head and begins to pace around again. You are certain now that the beast was, in fact, restless.

"Paez ilagon!" you exclaim, raising your hands at him.

Caraxes huffs, debating if he should heed your command.

"Paez ilagon," slow down, you repeat as the dragon fully faces you.

You, and everyone else who witnesses it, are shocked that Caraxes listens. He quits his pacing and slowly comes to a halt, looming over you.

Your lips wobble, humbled by the idea such a fearsome creature would obey the commands of such a pathetic being. You begin to weep, as Caraxes lowers his head, sniffing you. Your hands dart out to him when he gets too close. You slightly topple when he nudges you with his snout. You feel the warmth of his breath seeping through your dress as he brushes against you. You can tell he is trying his best to be gentle, but even then he is too strong that you have to repel him. He makes the faintest of sounds.

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

Caraxes remains pressed against you a moment longer.

You sniffle and momentarily fantasize about the child growing within you. You lean into him in defeat, "you silly thing."

His throat emits a low rumble.

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

Caraxes slowly lowers his head until he is laid on the floor. You remain leaned on him for a moment, and then you pull away with a sigh. You look upon the dragon, thinking he is so much like his rider, and stroke his cheek one last time before pulling away.

You walk towards the dragon keeper you had blindsided and lower your head in shame, speaking the word you had learned for Daemon, "usōvegon." Apologies.

He stares at you for a moment, taking in your now messy hair and dirtied face, and replies with something you do not understand.

You nod at him without meeting his eyes then hurriedly walk off. Arryk is quick to follow after you, and his skidding makes Caraxes screech at him. He flinches at the sound, looking behind him warily. You do not.

When Arryk finally catches up to you, he takes your arm and calls out your name. He is alarmed by the red smeared down your philtrum and cheek.

"Forgive me," you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. You do not stop walking, "I- I was overcome... I did not think of anything but myself. I did not mean to cause anyone such immense distress."

"What were you trying to do?" Arryk quips, taking in your dirtied face. He did not know if it would be appropriate to wipe it with his cloak.

You shake your head, still unable to look at him.

"Princess," Arryk speaks like a plea, "did you know Caraxes would not hurt you?"

You gulp, quickening you pace.

Arryk huffs in frustration, calling out your name.

He forces you to stop by dashing forward, coming in front of you. You look up at him, eyes teary and mouth parted.

"I beg you," he clenches his fists, before succumbing to his urges. He grabs his cloak and wipes your face, brushing the dirt and blood as neatly as he can, "please tell me you did not knowingly put yourself in danger."

The tears running down your face help him clean you off. You honestly say, "I don't know if I should tell you."

Arryk is heart broken. He clenches his jaw tightly and releases his hold on you. He steps aside and you begin walking again.

You feel awful as you look at him. He is sullen as he walks beside you. You wipe your nose on your sleeve, "apologies, Arryk."

He shakes his head and opens his mouth. His jaw hangs for a moment, but then he closes his mouth, saying nothing.

You turn to your side when you hear your name called.

Alicent, who was making her way to the king's quarters, runs up you, eyes widening at the blood on your face. The red had spread as it mixed with your tears. She quickly pulls out her handkerchief, "your nose is bleeding!"

Your eyes widen, as you did not know this, but you quickly take her wrist and slowly pull away, "it is nothing."

"What happened to her, ser?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk is eager to tattle, "she was at the dragon pit and-"

"I fell," you cut him off, blocking your sister's gaze upon your ward, "I-"

"You fell in the dragon pit?!" she bristles further. Your feigning backfired. "What did Daemon do?!"

"The prince is nowhere to be seen," Arryk scoffs.

"I was- am looking for him!" you blurt

"Caraxes nearly attacked her," Arryk adds.

"Arryk!" you whip your head to him then back to your sister, "he did not!"

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Alicent calls your name as you call Arryk's.

Your sister takes your shoulders, eyes immediately watering, "did you want to get hurt, sister?"

Your jaw slacks, "I- I-"

"Does Daemon posses you to do such things?" your baby sister begins to cry.

You shake your head rapidly, "no! No. I swear to you, this has nothing to do with him."

"Then what?" Alicent asks with a broken voice.

You gasp for air and feel a shiver run down your spine. You cannot tell her the truth, so you explain instead, "my nose already bled yesterday, which is why it's bleeding now."

"What?!"

"I already fainted yesterday and fell quite hard, which is why my nose is bleeding again."

"Mother, please," Alicent whispers.

"Alicent, I swear to you, you need not-"

"How could you let this happen to her twice?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk lowers his head, "I have failed-"

"I snuck behind him," you blurt, "do not fault him for my impulsiveness."

Alicent's heart is crush as she watches you wipe your face.

"It is not Arryk's fault that my nose is bloody. It is neither Caraxes fault for shoving me. It is mine. My body is weak and I have spent all day looking for my husband, against the behest of my maester."

Alicent clenches her jaw. It is Daemon's fault.

"I will go to the maesters' ward and submit to whatever is prescribed to me," you place a hand on her shoulder. You sniffle, "do not speak to father of this."

"Make sure to go to the maester's then," you sister warns.

Dejected, you look away and walk off.

Alicent takes in a breath before grabbing her skirts, marching over to the king's quarters.

Viserys is in the middle of gluing his diorama of King's Landing when he hears a knock on the door, "come in."

Alicent enters, sighing deeply before pulling a smile.

"Alicent," his blank expression slightly lightens.

She curtsies, "your highness," and walks over to him. She turns her attention to whatever it was the king was building.

Viserys shows raises a block, "a new tower."

Alicent smiles softly, "pretty."

The king raises a brow upon noticing the stiffness to her demeanor, "is everything alright?"

Alicent betrays herself on purpose by nodding her head too quickly.

Viserys puts the tower down. He reaches for her arm, "what's wrong, my girl."

She takes a sharp breath, "my sister—"

He furrows his brows.

"—she... she has a bloody nose from falling."

"She fell?"

"Twice," Alicent fidgets with her hands, honest agitation for her sister taking over her, "because she's been looking for Daemon."

His reaction to the name is instant. Viserys' jaw clenches and his fists ball in anger, "Daemon."

Daemon struts down the great hall, making his way towards the Iron Throne. The night was now deep and the few candles lit in the room only increased the tension between the brothers.

The prince looks up at the king. The king and two kingsguard stationed on either side of the throne look down at him. Viserys clenches his sword, "and where have you been?"

Daemon scoffs, aimlessly looking around, "have you summoned me to nag?" He clasps his hand in front of him, leaning on one foot, "I already have a wife for that."

His brother laughs, hard. It echoes across the hall, but it is by no means genuine, "I would not have ever known with all the time you waste in brothels."

Daemon grinds his teeth, face contorting, "so you've summoned me to reb-"

"Did you say it?" Viserys snaps.

"... what?"

"An heir for a day— did you say it?!"

"..."

The king's nostrils flare.

"... we must all mourn in our own way, your grace."

Viserys sighs, lowering his head in defeat for a second, then erupts, "MY FAMILY HAS BEEN DESTROYED!" He seethes, "and instead of staying at mine, or Rhaenyra's side you celebrate your own rise with your whores and your lickspittles!

"And wife," he scoffs, "your poor wife... do you even know that your mount has injured her?"

Daemon stiffens.

"She came to the pit looking for you and the beast caused her a bloody nose."

"What?"

"You chose her Daemon. And in choosing her you prove time and time again, I bend to your desires only to be repaid with disrespect. You have no other allies in court but me, yet-"

"You do nothing but distance me from court! From the City Watch, even with- with her... you do nothing but heed the whispers of that leaching old man."

"Leaching old man?" Viserys raises his brows.

Daemon nearly vibrates in anger.

"You mean Otto Hightower?" the king's lips curl, "the man who begged me—"

He laughs dryly.

"—over and back to spare her sickly daughter from enduring a lifetime with a the likes of you!"

Daemon is wounded, "I am your brother."

"Then why do you cut me so deep?"

"I see that man for what he is."

Viserys huffs, "a loyal and faithful-"

"A cunt!"

The king leans back. His kingsguard are ready to draw their steel. Viserys realizes there is no getting through to him. He looks away then turns back to glare at him, "jiōragon hen ñuha laehurlion." Get out of my face.

"Lēkia," Daemon steps forward, muttering the word that meant older brother.

The kingsguards step forward, showing a glimmer of their swords as a warning.

"I hear it is the first time your Hightower bride has been separated from her twin. It would do her health good to visit Oldtown."

He clenches his fists tightly.

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

Daemon does not wait to be apprehended and storms out of the room. He is bristling as he gets out.

"Mazeman bona ziry gōntan daor jikagon sȳrī." I take that it did not go well.

Daemon turns and sees Corlys standing by the door, hands clasped in front of him.

"I wanted to speak to you of something important earlier today. I hope your mood is not too bad foul-"

"Ȳdragon se sagon gaomagon lēda bisa jenigon," Daemon snaps. Speak and be done with this bother.

Corlys straightens his back and motions with hand, "it is regarding the Stepstones, your grace."

Daemon furrows his brows, vaguely recalling this topic being broached during one of the council meetings. The two of them discuss this as they walk down the hall. By the time the prince reaches your shared quarters, he's agreed to help the Seasnake with his concern.

You leap from your bed when the door opens. Daemon freezes as you scurry to the door, hastily running to him without even putting on your slippers. You stand before him barefoot, heaving as you clutch your nightgown. He stares at you, hands clenching into fists.

"Usōvegon," your lips tremble.

Daemon's face falls a fraction as he watches your eyes water.

"Usōvegon," apologies, you repeat. "Please..." you slowly reach for him.

He watches your palms press against his chest. He makes no attempt to move.

"Do not be cross with me any longer."

A deep breath flares through his nostrils. He realizes then that he is exhausted and shuts his eyes. He leans his forehead on yours and takes your wrists. He huffs at your feel, "you are freezing."

"I-"

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

You don't know what he says, so you make sure to tell him what wants to hear— what you think he wants to hear, "I will not defy you ever again."

He does not care about that. He pulls back and looks at you. He wipes the tears off your face and a line forms between his brows, "Caraxes attacked you?"

One of your hands instinctively comes to your philtrum, "no. I-" you shake your head, "I fell."

You don't know why you think Daemon would be satisfied with your answer. He presses, "tell me exactly what happened."

You huff, "I was... yesterday, I fainted—"

"Fainted?"

"—then I fell."

He shakes his head, "this happened in the dragon pit?"

"... no. When... when I was chasing after you."

Daemon brushes your hair back.

You cannot hold his gaze, "I went to the pit, hoping you'd be there and-" you realize you cannot tell him what happened. You cannot tell him you walked to his mount and his mount did not attack you because he could smell part of him in you. You huff, "-and Caraxes got close and knocked me over."

"Did he try to bite you?"

You debate for a second before shaking your head.

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

Your throat tightens. Goosebumps form on your arm when Daemon traces your nose with his thumb.

"And your nose bled?"

You do not want to answer.

He sighs, "I will reintroduce you to him, so that he does not act so-"

"It's not his fault!" you blurt, "not really."

He knits his brows.

"When I fainted and fell, my nose already bled, so..." you motion with a finger, "Caraxes simply... set off a previous injury."

He says absolutely nothing.

"My body is weak," you mumble, hoping to explain it better, "I've had worse injuries."

"Do you tell me this so that I will not bring you to Caraxes?"

"No," you shake your head, "no. Just... so you do not..." worry, you almost say, but then the idea feels presumptuous.

"Not fault my beast for acting like one?" Daemon asks, as he heads for his cabinet.

You look at him for a moment then follow. You decide to hum and proceed to help him get undressed.

Your husband examines your face. The moonlight mixed with candlelight makes your skin glow. He is loathe to think your tears add to it, but it's unfortunately true. Your being glistens because of all these things. He interrupts your unbuttoning by taking your cheeks and slowly wiping off the tears on your lashes.

You blink at him, "better?"

"Gevie," he says, brushing your throat with his thumbs.

You nod, though you still did not know what that meant. You push his doublet past his shoulders and once his dress shirt remained, he is quick to remove his shoes as you bring his clothes to the hamper. When you walk back to him, he is picking out clothes from his closet. You are deeply confused when he hands you a stack of shirts.

Daemon moves to his other cabinet and says, "pack those in my trunk for me."

You freeze and blink rapidly, "I-" you turn to his truck, which was atop his closet. Your heart races, "I cannot reach it."

Daemon pulls out more clothing before looking at you. You watch him closely as he stands and reaches for the trunk. He places it on the floor and opens it.

You slowly kneel on the floor beside it, doing your best to keep calm in this moment. Are you leaving? You nearly ask him, but you don't because he clearly is. You begin to fold his clothes, but you cannot hold your peace, "where are you going?"

Daemon stuffs his clothes into his trunk and sighs before crouching down to fix them, "the Stepstones."

"W-what?"

"The Seasnake needs help with the Crabfeeder, so I will help him."

"Why?" you blurt all too quickly.

Daemon straightens up. He looks down at you as you shake your head and quickly finish folding his clothes.

"Why must it be you?"

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

He is taken aback by how you chuck his clothes into his trunk rather aggressively. His face begins to harden with anger but then you make a noise and lean into the trunk, heaving deeply in and out.

"Wha-"

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

Whatever choler was building in him quickly dissipates and morphs into... fear, or rather, worry. He calls out your name, reaching for your head.

"You cannot leave me," you shudder, gripping his calves for dear life. You look up at him, face wholly distraught but not teary. You find yourself too tired to shed a tear.

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

Your hands remain gripping the sides of his shirt as you stare at him. You take in his stoic expression as you gather the nerve to repeat, "you cannot leave m-"

"And why can't I?" he quips as his insecurity gets ahead of himself.

You hear it in his voice. You hear how he thinks you're challenging him. You shake your head and correct yourself, "n-no," you shudder, "no, Daemon, no. I- I want you to stay." You brush your palms up his chest.

He can feel the tremble of your hands as they come to his cheeks. He knit his brows at your confession. He has to ask, "why?"

You could tell him many reasons. The one possibly most relevant to him is that of the fact you were carrying his unborn child. A shiver runs down your spine; you are not foolish enough to believe this would be something that would make him want to stay. You could always tell him you needed him, your health needed him, because it was true. As much as he clawed your fragile heart, he made it soar in ways you've never experienced. But there was a rather simpler truth to that need, though attached to a very complicated feeling, "because I love you."

Daemon's expression falls. Though his lips barely part, you can tell that he is gobsmacked. You release a shaky breath as you swipe his chin and jaw with the pads of your thumbs.

Should he be so shocked? Love in a marriage is not so uncommon, even if it is arranged, even if it felt opposite in the beginning.

So, what?

What was your love to him? It would wax and wane like his brother's— and his brother, his fucking brother. He could not grant him the satisfaction. Daemon takes you by the wrists and slowly pries you off, "you are mistaken."

You take a deep breath at his words. You are perfectly still.

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

Daemon was not one to lie, convinced such an act was beneath him, reserved for incapable, lesser men; half-wits, and yellow-bellies. The only reason he could say this was because the cup in which you held your love for him was far deeper than the one he had for you, and he was aware of it. He loved himself far more than he could ever bring himself to love anyone; he would always be first.

Still, he was not an incapable, lesser man, nor was he a half-witted yellow-belly. He knew of the cup he held, which oft overflowed. The mere thought of you triggered a smell in the air, and at the mention of your name, his bones ignited. You were his, and you held his regard, his affection, his lust, and, yes, his love.

All of this, he was about to explain, but then your reaction blind-sided him.

You nod, "I know."

How terrible it was to hear it. He knew his words where callous. He knew wuch an admission is a gash from a jagged blade— to not be loved by who you loved. Yet your casual resignation to this information stung, nay, scorched his heart.

Is it cold? Is his love so dry you cannot even feel it?

His grip on you falters.

You bring your hands to his shoulders. You rub his bicep and smile softly in reassurance, "I do not mind."

"What?"

Your smile widens a fraction, "I know you enjoy the... delicateness of my body, both intimately and-" you motion to yourself, "-regarding my affliction."

He knits his brows.

"It is wholly contrary to yours, and it is mirthful to you," you nod again, "I understand."

"Do you?" he raises his furrowed brows.

You slowly loosen your hold on him. You pull away to fidget with your fingers, "do I not?"

"No," he scoffs under his breath, chest tightening far too much he has to move past you, "I don't think you do."

You are quick to grab him but it slips, "then make me understand."

Daemon stops in his tracks, turning back to you as his breathing picks up.

Your own does the same, but your gasps get shorter and shorter, so much so, you feel yourself get lightheaded. Your husband has to grab you to keep you upright, but you want to show him you have the will to overcome this, that you aren't dead weight, so push him away and mutter, "I- I can do it, Daemon."

He misinterprets you. You scorch him again. He squeezes your arms, "you don't want my help now?"

"No," you say as try to catch your breath, "I- I just-" you cannot continue.

Daemon has to sit you down to help calm you down. He tried to keep you upright, but then he realizes you were consciously trying to lean into his chest, so he lets you. You press your cheek against his warm muscles and sigh at the beat of his heart. You wrap your arms around him, "I want this."

He stares at your brown hair for a moment.

"I want all of this," you sigh, "which is why I want to be what you want me to be."

He finally lets himself embrace you, but just then, you pull away to look at him.

"I can do it," you nod as you take a final deep breath, "I can be a dutiful wife— I will be a dutiful wife. I will not defy you. I will do as you please. I will not expect more than I ought."

"You cannot do everything for me," Daemon says with slight contempt, a line between his brows.

"I-" you shake your head, "... I know," you shake your head faster, taking his hands, "but can I make you stay?"

He looks at how you hold him. He feels sick.

"What can I do to ma-"

"You do not understand," he pulls his hand away, "my brother wants me to leave. He is sick of me and prays for my riddance."

You watch as Daemon stands and paces around.

"He told me to bring you to your twin in Oldtown, and I would sooner eat Caraxes' shit than be tossed aside to the fucking Reach."

You shake your head, "why does he want you to leave?"

"He is weepy over the drunken words I spoke."

"Well, what did you-"

"Does it matter?!" he snaps, raising his hands, "I must leave!"

He is clearly upset. You nod your head and come to a stand, "then I will speak to the k-"

"No!" he shouts, "I will not have my wife act on my behalf, as though I rolled my belly."

"You are not rolling your belly, I am."

"You think there is a fucking difference?!" he quips, marching in front of you, "no! I am to leave in the dawn, so pack my fucking things, woman!"

You grit your teeth in an attempt to steel yourself away. It does not prevent the tears from running down your cheeks.

Daemon's nostrils flare as you go back to his trunk and sort out his clothes. He hears your soft whimpers and slowly begins to deflate. He wipes his face, slowly turning to you. He watches tears drop onto his garbs, "have you nothing to say?"

You sniffle and shake your head rapidly.

"No?!" his expression pinches.

You stand and grab the rest of this clothes. You sniffle with difficulty then sigh deeply. Your voice is shaky, "I want only to please you."

Daemon chuckles dryly, aimlessly looking around, "you think this pleases me?"

"Then tell me what will!" you whip your head around, clutching his clothes tightly in your arms, "I implore you." You step forward and haphazardly drop everything to his trunk, "I cannot please you if you refuse to tell me what you want."

"I want to go to the fucking Stepstones!" he points to nowhere.

You are shattered. How terrible of him to make it so painfully clear that what he wants does not even involve you. He does not want you, or even if he did, you cannot be enough. You lower your gaze.

"I want you to beg me to stay."

You look up at him. You chuckle dryly under your breath when you realize he's being serious. Your sorrow is not enough, it seems, now he wants even your shame.

Daemon tenses when you get on your knees.

You grip the fabric of his trousers as tightly as possible in an attempt to steel yourself, but it does not prevent your tears from falling. You shudder, "please."

"..."

"Stay. I beg you."

Your prince gazes upon your bitterness. He brushes your cheek and feels the coldness of your tears. He sighs because this does not affect him the way he had hoped.

It is not enough.

Dawn breaks, and Caraxes is restless. Daemon's things were being secured on his dragon, but that is not why so many dragon keepers had to keep him in check.

There, by the entrance, you stood with your hands clasped together and your head hung low. Both your wards behind you, eyeing your prince, who was doing his best to calm his ride as the last of his things were readied. Daemon did not know Caraxes was acting this way because of your distress, but the keepers slowly began to realize this was the case.

One of the keepers call out, "ñuha dārilaros, aōha ābrazȳrys." My prince, your wife.

"Rȳbagon, Caraxes!" Daemon snaps at his dragon to listen. Caraxes shakes his head and the prince spares the dragon keeper a glance, "skoros hen zirȳla?" What of her?

"Aōha zaldrīzes kostagon yknagon zirȳla boter." Your dragon can smell her suffering.

The prince turns to you, back to Caraxes, "iksis ziry zirȳla, Caraxes?" Is it her, Caraxes.

You lift your gaze when you hear Daemon call for you. He beckons you over and before you can move, Arryk grabs your arm and whispers, "I do not think this wise."

You slightly turn to him, "he will not harm me. You saw how Caraxes acted yesterday."

"It is not the dragon I worry about."

You look at the man, seeing how his jaw is clenched. You place a hand on his shoulder plate before walking towards your husband.

Rather immediately, there is a shift in Caraxes's demeanor. He huffs and screeches, neck coiling so his head could come near you. Daemon barks out multiple commands and his mount finally obeys.

The prince knits his brows then turns to you, reaching out a hand. You take it and find yourself pulled into your husband's arms. Your skin pricks with goosebumps when he whispers in your ear, "he wants you."

You sigh and close your eyes, resigning yourself to Daemon. He links his fingers into yours and places it atop his dragon's snout.

Caraxes sighs and slightly leans in.

Daemon is astounded by this, "I did not know he could possibly care for someone more than his rider."

You slowly open your eyes and look at the creatures ruby scales. "He does not," you mutter, rubbing one hand on your belly.

He does not hear this. When he turns you around, he catches you rubbing your stomach. He sighs and takes your hand, "do not weep so bitterly."

You cannot do anything but the opposite. Tears stream down your cheeks, "do not be so cruel then."

Daemon watches how your lips wobble. A line forms between his brows, "do not make this harder than it should."

You pull away from him and lower your gaze, "then just leave me now, and spare me the slow torture."

He tenses at your words. His expression hardens, "I did not ask you to see me off."

"Shall I leave then?" you snap, eyes red as you look back at him.

"Yes!"

You grab your skirt and walk towards the twins.

Daemon is stunned. He turns around and watches as you storm off. He calls your name, once, twice, and then he is sobered by the scream of Caraxes. You do not even stop by the entrance anymore, and walk past your kingsguards, who are quick to follow after you.

Here you were doing his bidding, following his wishes, yet there was no satisfaction. All there was... was less of you, less of your strength, your light, your fire.

Daemon turns to Caraxes, who was restless again. He pushes past the dragon keepers and saddles up. He orders Caraxes to start walking, so he does. The blood wrym begins to crawl towards you and the prince has to reel him back, barking out orders of obedience far too loudly.

Caraxes gives a loud screech before following the order. He huffs so deeply that the wind it produces makes you topple.

Your knights are quick to keep you upright, and though you so badly want to turn around, you remind yourself that your husband has done nothing but all he wants since you've wed. If he wanted you to stay, he would have told you.

You wouldn't know then that Daemon made Caraxes stop in his tracks. You wouldn't know that as he watched you walk off, he was mumbling under his breath that you turn around. You just kept walking yet he still waited for you to turn back, even after your figure had disappeared.

He would also never know that you headed down to the docks near the Keep, just to watch Caraxes fly away one last time. He would never know how your skin pricked with gooseflesh at the sight of the red winged beast soaring above. He would never know how hard it became for you to breathe.

"Gods, please," you mumble as your eyes endlessly watered, "swiftly return him to me."

Arryk and Erryk, stood on either side of you, glared at the sky as they heard your broken voice. They were on high alert as the docks were busy at this hour, and yet, it was necessary to convey their contempt, even if the person it was meant for could not see.

"Give me back my husband," you look at your reflection in the water, "or take me to my mother."

Before your words even register to either of the twins, you've already jumped into the water. Erryk nearly jumps in with you before realizing his armor would surely make him sink. "PRINCESS!" he screams as he undoes his armor.

"THE PRINCESS!" Arryk screams to the fisherman, "SHE'S FALLEN INTO THE WATER!"

The commotion is great. It is loud and frantic, yet as your body plunges and slowly begins to float, you care little. You feel someone fish you out of the water by the arm, and you want nothing more than to break free and swim towards your demise. But then, you hear your wards calling out your name, and you realize you cannot.

You say nothing once you are on land.

Both Cargylls has a hand on your arm, and each of them are worriedly questioning you, "are you alrigh- what happe- what were you thinki- are you faint- my princess-"

"I need to see him," you say.

Arryk and Erryk freeze. The look at each other, not knowing what to say. Arryk offers, "my princess. I fear you cannot see Dae-"

"Not him," you look between them as you gather your skirts. It is arduous, as it is soaking wet.

Otto was on his way back from the scrolls room when hears the shout from across the hall. He tenses like a rock at the recognition of his daughter's voice.

You hadn't realized how tired you were until you saw him. Your knees immediately buckle and you fall to the floor as you call out, "papa!"

The Lord Hand dashes to you, dropping the scrolls he had along the way. He gets on his knees and picks you up. He is aghast by your dripping state, and his anger is soon turned on your incompetent guards, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GIRL?"

"Papa," you mutter once you are in his arms.

Otto cradles you, looking down at your sorry form. A deep line is between his brows.

"He left me," you whisper, tears wetting your already wet cheeks.

Daemon. Lord Hightower clenches his jaw. It's always fucking him. "Come, my girl," he mutters, trying to bring you to your feet, "let's get you-"

Your voice is soft, yet it still cuts him off, "you must not leave me."

Otto is frozen. Arryk and Erryk are frozen too.

"If you leave me too, I do not think I will survive."

[jjkbambi]

can i rec lulu dating a humanities major, specifically english/professional writing? i saw someone say that he’d love a partner who wasn’t into CS so he could learn more about their viewpoint on things, and i think with how much he likes to read, he’d find them rly special💌

luigi as your college crush ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

<3 meeting you @ book club! he always recommends strange nonfictions (last time he suggested you all read the unabomber’s manifesto?), so it’s not too hard to get your attention.

<3 very small hi hellos at first, you think he’s too smart and he thinks you’re too pretty

<3 notices you always get iced lattes before showing up to meetings, so he starts showing up to the same cafe hoping to run into u even tho he doesn’t like coffee

<3 when you do finally run into each other he acts like it’s some sort of a huge coincidence, smiling ear-to-ear while asking you how your day is.

<3 you’re like what’d you order and he’s like “ i didn’t order anything 🤓 coffee kills! it’s overpriced and addictive and- ”

wait so why are u here???

“the ambiance!!!”🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

<3 walking you to meetings, insists on walking you home, and now he’s insistent on carrying your books around campus, even when it’s just a small notebook—it’s the gentlemanly thing to do

<3 and once he gets enough yes’s out of you, he’s around you all the time, texting you nonstop

<3 he’s honestly kinda weird

from luigi Are you in the humanities building right now?

to luigi no I didn’t go to class today

3 missed calls from luigi

<3 always looking over your shoulder when you pull out your phone

<3 inviting you on his morning runs so you get to see him shirtless

<3 if you can’t make it to the morning runs, he shows up to ur dorm after shirtless and SWEATY with your morning coffeee!!!

<3 god forbid you mention your ex-boyfriend or situationship. his face drops immediately and he’s immediately made a mental note to look him up later

<3 ur ex liked to cook??? all of a sudden his goodreads is flooded w an unprecedented amount of cookbooks. none of ur exes have facial hair??? he’s shaveddddd down. ur ex is in the most popular frat on campus??? luigi just joined the one across the street and pays for the most expensive djs and catering … ur ex plays for the penn football team??? the coach just found coke in his backpack :3

<3 doesn’t really use instagram but is always active after you post

<3 introducing himself to your parents on friends and family day, particularly smiley when your parents ask you if you’re dating

<3 + 1 million confidence increase once he knows your parents like him. expect a bunch of stuff like “your mom said you didn’t like seafood?!?!” when did you and my mom talk about that?!!!!

<3 obsessed with touching you. your hair your hands your waist

<3 is so scared to ask you out

<3 not too scared to tell everyone he knows that you’re already dating. and he knows a lot of people

you’re always on call with him like pep, everyone thinks we’re dating T-T and he’s just like yeah Lol super weird 🤗

<3 sometimes he can’t make plans bc hes been dealing w a lot of back pain lately so you suggest going to a korean spa downtown together!

<3 trying his best to look away from you in the sauna

<3 so fucking hard underneath his robe he has to “leave” “to take a call”

after a while you call him and ask him where he went but he doesn’t answer

from luigi Come to the showers

[cherryxbooo]

I've got you ... always

Summary: Working as a Mercedes engineer has always been challenging, but with men constantly looking down on you, it becomes unbearable. Lewis is quick to put a stop to it, and fight for justice.

Note: First of all, I want to thank all of you for the love you've shown me so far. I really appreciate it! ���� The reason I chose this storyline is to address the issue of sexism and misogyny in workplaces. Unfortunately, this still happens far too often, and with this fic, I hope to bring much-needed attention to this subject. Just know you're not alone 🫶

Reader x Lewis Hamilton

Warning: misogyny and sexism

It had been nearly six years since I first joined Mercedes as an engineer.

Six years of intense work, late nights, early mornings, and a relentless pursuit of perfection in the world of Formula 1.

It was my dream job, one I had worked tirelessly to achieve.

But those six years also marked the time I’d spent with Lewis, six years of love, laughter, and challenges with the man who had become my everything.

I could still remember the day we met as if it were yesterday.

A bit of backstory:

I was the newest member of the Mercedes team, fresh out of a competitive hiring process, and I was determined to make an impression.

The first time I stepped into the paddock, I felt like an imposter among the sea of seasoned professionals.

My hands clutched my tablet like a lifeline as I walked into a strategy meeting, trying to suppress the nervous flutter in my chest.

Lewis was already there, sitting at the far end of the room. He looked relaxed, dressed casually in his signature streetwear style, yet exuding an unmistakable aura of confidence.

As I took a seat near the back, his eyes flicked toward me.

I was sure he wouldn’t even notice me, why would he?

I was just another new face among dozens of team members.

But then, he smiled.

It wasn’t one of those polite, obligatory smiles.

It was warm and genuine, as if he could sense my nerves and wanted to reassure me.

That smile was like a silent message:

You belong here.

Over the next few weeks, our paths crossed more frequently.

At first, it was just in passing, a quick hello in the garage, a casual “How’s it going?” during lunch breaks.

But it didn’t take long for us to start talking. Really talking.

It was during a particularly chaotic race weekend in Silverstone that our friendship began to solidify.

A last-minute weather change had thrown everyone into a frenzy, and I found myself staying late in the garage to run some last-minute simulations.

The paddock was nearly empty when Lewis walked in, still in his racing suit, and caught me muttering to myself as I tried to make sense of the data.

“Long night?” he asked, leaning against the workbench with a lopsided grin.

“You have no idea,” I replied with a tired laugh, glancing up from my screen.

He stayed and talked with me for over an hour, even offering a few insights that helped me crack the issue I was stuck on.

By the time he left, I realized that the nervousness I’d felt around him was gone.

He wasn’t just Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion.

He was kind, funny, and incredibly easy to talk to.

From that moment on, our friendship grew effortlessly.

Whether it was over post-race debriefs, team dinners, or stolen moments between the chaos of race weekends, we found ourselves drawn to each other.

We bonded over a shared love for what we did, but also over our differences, his world of high-speed fame and my quieter, behind-the-scenes role.

It wasn’t long before I realized my feelings for him had shifted.

I hadn’t planned on falling for him, but Lewis had a way of breaking down walls without even trying.

He made me laugh when I was stressed, listened intently when I rambled about work, and made me feel seen in a way I hadn’t experienced before.

One evening, after a long day at the factory, he invited me out for dinner.

It wasn’t anything fancy, just a cozy little restaurant tucked away.

Over plates of pasta and glasses of wine, we talked about everything from our childhoods to our dreams for the future.

By the end of the night, when he walked me to my car, he hesitated for just a moment before leaning in to kiss me.

That was the beginning of us.

For a long time, we kept our relationship private. We both wanted to protect what we had, to keep it ours without the scrutiny of the public eye.

But as the months turned into years, it became harder to hide.

Fans started noticing the subtle signs, the way Lewis would glance at me during interviews, or how I always seemed to be nearby during race weekends.

When we finally decided to go public, it wasn’t a grand announcement or a carefully curated statement.

It was a simple photo posted on Lewis’s Instagram.

We were in Monaco, sitting on a terrace overlooking the harbor, the golden light of sunset washing over us.

I didn’t even know he’d taken the picture until he showed it to me later that night.

“Should I post it?” he asked, his voice tentative.

I hesitated, thinking of the attention it would bring, but then I looked at him, at the way his eyes softened as he waited for my answer.

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “Let’s do it.”

The response back then was overwhelming.

Fans flooded the comments with messages of support, and the media couldn’t stop speculating about us.

But through it all, Lewis and I stayed grounded, reminding each other that our relationship wasn’t for anyone else.

It was for us.

One of the things that made our relationship so strong was our ability to communicate.

From the very beginning, we had promised to tell each other everything, our fears, our frustrations, our dreams.

No topic was off-limits.

Whether it was a rough qualifying session for him or a challenging project for me, we leaned on each other without hesitation.

At least, that’s how it used to be.

Lately, I hadn’t been able to keep my promise to Lewis, to tell him everything, to lean on him like I always had.

The reason? Mark, Alan, and Greg.

They were three senior engineers on the team, men who had been with Mercedes long before I joined.

Older, more experienced, and as I had quickly discovered, painfully set in their ways.

From the very beginning, they had made it clear that they didn’t think I belonged.

I still remember the first time I overheard them.

It was during my second week on the job, and I was running a simulation late at night.

They didn’t realize I was in the corner of the garage, headphones off, sorting through notes.

“Hiring for diversity quotas,” Mark had muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Yeah, they want to tick a box, so they bring in the fresh-faced rookie,” Alan had added with a chuckle.

Greg, ever the opportunist, chimed in,

“Let’s see how long she lasts when the pressure’s on.”

"She's better off making us a sandwich."

Their words had stung, sharp and bitter, but I had swallowed my pride.

I told myself that proving them wrong would be the best revenge.

I worked harder than I ever had in my life, triple-checking my calculations, volunteering for extra tasks, staying long hours to ensure that my work was flawless.

And for a while, I thought it had paid off.

At first, the snide remarks tapered off.

They didn’t engage with me much, but at least they stopped openly questioning my abilities.

I had even started to think that maybe, just maybe, I had earned their respect.

But lately, the comments had returned, and they were worse than ever.

It started subtly, dismissive sighs during meetings when I spoke, or whispered conversations that stopped the moment I entered the room.

Childish right?

Then the snark escalated, cutting through my carefully built confidence like a knife.

“Did you even double-check this?”

Alan had sneered last week after a team briefing, gesturing at the simulation results I’d spent days perfecting.

Greg, never one to miss a chance to pile on, smirked as he added,

“Leave the big decisions to people who actually know what they’re doing.”

Then Mark's voice was heard,

"Yeah, go do the laundry or something, whatever you women are good in."

It was always wrapped in the guise of banter, thinly veiled behind forced smiles and casual tones.

But I wasn’t naïve.

There was a sharpness to their words, a deliberate attempt to undermine me that cut deeper each time.

Even Mark, the one who usually played the “neutral” party, had started joining in.

During a debrief on a race strategy I’d helped design, he had scoffed and muttered,

“Well, I guess every team needs its token young genius.”

It was relentless.

Every day, there was something, a comment, a glance, a dismissive laugh that made my blood boil.

But I kept it all to myself.

I told myself that it wasn’t worth causing a scene, especially now.

Lewis had enough on his plate.

His move to Ferrari had been the talk of the motorsport world, and while he was excited for the new challenge, the transition was anything but easy.

here were endless negotiations, media commitments, and the emotional weight of leaving the team that had been his family for over a decade.

I couldn’t bring this to him, not now.

Not when he was already stretched thin.

So, I stayed quiet.

I bit my tongue when Alan questioned my calculations, ignored Greg’s condescending remarks, and pretended not to hear Mark’s muttered jokes.

Each time, I told myself it was just words, that I could handle it.

But deep down, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could.

Lewis was busy.

I kept telling myself that over and over, like a mantra.

Between announcing his move to Ferrari, dealing with the media frenzy, juggling sponsorship demands, and the seemingly endless meetings, he had so much on his plate.

The last thing he needed was me adding my problems to the mix.

But today was different.

The garage was buzzing with activity as we prepped for the upcoming race weekend.

The sound of drills, clinking tools, and the hum of engines filled the air, a symphony of chaos I had grown to love over the years.

I was stationed at my usual spot, hunched over a set of data sheets, meticulously double-checking the aerodynamics report for any inconsistencies.

I was deep in concentration, my pen scratching against the paper, when their voices drifted over.

Mark’s gruff tone was unmistakable.

“What’s the point of her even being here? Probably just a pretty face for the team photos.”

I froze, my hand pausing mid-note.

My heart sank, but I willed myself to stay calm, telling myself to ignore it like always.

Alan, never one to pass up an opportunity, snorted.

“Yeah, but even that’s debatable.”

Their laughter was casual, almost conversational, but the sting of their words hit me like a whip.

Then Greg joined in, his tone dripping with mockery.

“She’s only here because she’s shagging the driver or maybe even the boss. Imagine thinking she got this job on her own merit.”

Mark laughed before adding,

"Maybe we can all ask her for a turn as well, if it's that easy to shag the boss, we might have a chance too."

"At the end of the day, that's all they're good at. Women don't belong in the motorsport world."

The room was filled with their laughter.

That was it.

My pen slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the table as my hands began to shake.

I stared at the numbers on the page, but they were a blur, overshadowed by the burning heat of humiliation rising in my chest.

For years, I had endured their passive-aggressive comments, their dismissive attitudes, their constant undermining of my capabilities.

I had told myself it didn’t matter, that their opinions didn’t define me.

But hearing them reduce everything I had worked for, the late nights, the sweat, the tears, the sacrifices, to nothing more than being Lewis Hamilton’s girlfriend?

It was too much.

I clenched my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to hold it together.

But their laughter, light and cruel, echoed in my ears, shredding the last of my composure.

I pushed back my chair abruptly, the screech of metal against the concrete floor silencing the room for a brief moment.

My vision blurred with unshed tears as I grabbed my tablet and notes, clutching them to my chest like armor.

I didn’t dare look at them, I couldn’t.

My breath hitched, and my chest felt tight, like the walls were closing in.

I needed to get out. Now.

Without a word, I turned and stormed out of the garage, my footsteps heavy and uneven.

I didn’t care where I was going; I just needed space, air, something to stop the lump in my throat from turning into a sob.

As I walked away, their laughter faded into the background, but the words lingered, etched into my mind like a scar.

I didn’t know where I was going.

My feet carried me blindly, weaving through the maze of garages and team trailers until I found myself at the paddock’s edge.

It was quieter here, away from the relentless hum of activity, the chatter of crew members, and the ever-present cameras.

I sank onto a bench beneath the shade of a tree, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

Burying my face in my hands, I let out a shaky sigh.

My mind replayed their words like a broken record, each snide comment cutting deeper than the last.

"What’s the point of her being here?"

"Probably just a pretty face for the team photos."

"She’s only here because she’s shagging the driver."

The worst part was that they’d managed to plant a seed of doubt.

I had worked so hard to get here, put in countless hours, and sacrificed so much to prove myself in this male-dominated field.

And yet, in this moment, I felt like a fraud, like I didn’t belong.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Lewis’s voice cut through the fog in my mind.

I looked up sharply, my breath catching when I saw him standing a few feet away, his brow furrowed in concern.

He must have followed me.

My stomach twisted in a mix of guilt and relief.

The last thing I wanted was for him to see me like this, vulnerable, crumbling under the weight of my emotions.

“What’s wrong my love?” he asked, stepping closer and crouching down in front of me.

His warm, dark eyes searched mine, his hands gently resting on my knees.

The concern etched into his face made my heart ache.

“Nothing,” I lied, quickly wiping at my face.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, his expression soft but skeptical.

“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”

I hesitated, my resolve cracking under his steady gaze.

His presence was grounding, but I didn’t want to pull him into my mess.

“It’s nothing, really,” I tried again, forcing a weak smile.

“I just… I’m tired.”

“Y/n.”

His voice was low and firm, but there was a tenderness to it that made my throat tighten.

“Please. Talk to me.”

That was all it took.

The dam broke, and the words spilled out in a rush.

I told him everything, the comments, the dismissive attitudes, the years of enduring their quiet but cutting condescension.

My voice wavered as I explained how it had worsened recently, how their snide remarks had crossed the line into outright insults.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve been under so much pressure with everything, Ferrari, the media, the season. I didn’t want to be another problem for you to deal with.”

Lewis listened intently, his face unreadable as I spoke.

But the slight tightening of his jaw and the way his hands gripped mine told me he was anything but indifferent.

When I finished, there was a long silence.

I stared down at my hands, afraid to meet his eyes.

“They’ve been doing this for years?”

he finally asked, his voice low and tightly controlled.

I nodded, biting my lip. “It wasn’t always this bad, but yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to add to your stress,” I said softly.

“You’ve been dealing with so much already.”

Lewis let out a slow, measured breath, his grip on my hands tightening.

“Y/n, nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important to me than you.”

His voice softened, but there was a fierce protectiveness beneath his words.

“You should’ve told me. They don’t get to treat you like this. Ever. No woman deserves this kind of treatment.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Lewis was already standing.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, his expression dark with determination.

“Lewis, what are you doing?” I asked, standing as well.

He glanced at me, his jaw set.

“I’m making sure this doesn’t happen again.”

I reached out, touching his arm.

“Lewis, please—”

“Y/n.” He turned to face me fully, his eyes locking onto mine.

“You’ve put up with this for far too long. I’m not letting it slide, and neither should you. This is your workplace, your passion. You shouldn’t have to deal with people who try to tear you down.”

His words hit me hard, a mix of anger and love wrapped in every syllable.

I nodded slowly, my throat tight with emotion.

“Good,” he said, his voice softening as he pulled me into a hug.

His arms wrapped around me tightly, and for a moment, I let myself melt into his warmth.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into my hair. “Always.”

By mid-afternoon, the entire paddock was filled with noice.

Meetings with Toto were rarely casual, and the tension in the air was palpable.

I stayed out of sight, nerves twisting in my stomach.

When Lewis had assured me earlier that he wouldn’t let this go, I’d believed him.

But seeing the immediate repercussions unfold was a different kind of catharsis.

The walk to Toto’s office felt longer than it should have, every step heavy with anticipation.

Lewis had his hand firmly on the small of my back, guiding me through the bustling paddock.

His touch was grounding, but my nerves still prickled under my skin.

“Relax,” he said softly, leaning closer.

“We’re handling this together.”

I nodded, though my stomach was a tangled mess of knots.

The last thing I wanted was to cause drama, but after years of enduring Mark, Alan, and Greg’s behavior, I couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

When we arrived at Toto’s office, Lewis didn’t bother knocking lightly.

He rapped his knuckles on the door with purpose.

“Come in,” came the familiar voice from inside.

Toto was seated behind his desk, a stack of papers neatly arranged to one side.

His brows lifted in mild surprise when he saw the two of us enter together, but he quickly gestured for us to take a seat.

“This seems serious,” Toto remarked, his sharp eyes flicking between us.

"What’s going on?”

Lewis glanced at me, silently asking if I wanted to start.

I hesitated, my fingers twisting in my lap.

Noticing my reluctance, Lewis leaned forward.

“It’s about some of the team dynamics,” he began, his voice calm but tinged with an unmistakable edge.

“Specifically, the way Mark, Alan, and Greg have been treating Y/n.”

Toto’s expression shifted, his posture straightening.

“Go on.”

I took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak.

“For years now, they’ve made comments, snide remarks about my qualifications, my presence here. It started when I joined, but I brushed it off because I was new, and I thought I had to prove myself. But lately…”

My voice wavered, and I swallowed hard to steady it.

“Lately, it’s escalated. They’ve been openly dismissive of my work, undermining me during meetings, and even questioning my position on the team. Today, they went too far.”

Toto’s jaw tightened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“What happened today?”

Lewis’s hand found mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze as I recounted the incident.

“They implied I’m only here because I’m dating Lewis and that I used my body to get my position,”

I said quietly, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

“And that I didn’t earn my role.”

Toto exhaled sharply, his expression darkening.

“That’s not all,” Lewis added, his tone hardening.

“This has been going on for years, Toto. Years. Y/n didn’t tell me sooner because she didn’t want to cause problems, but that’s no excuse. Those three have created a toxic environment, and it stops now.”

Toto’s gaze shifted to me, his stern demeanor softening slightly.

“Why didn’t you come to me earlier, Y/L/N? This isn’t the kind of behavior we tolerate here.”

I shrugged, feeling small under his scrutiny.

“I didn’t want to be seen as a troublemaker. They’ve been here longer than I have, and I didn’t think anyone would take my word over theirs. Plus, I didn’t want to add more stress to an already intense environment.”

Toto shook his head, his voice firm but understanding.

“You should never have to tolerate that. Not here, not anywhere. The Mercedes team prides itself on being a family. What you’ve described is unacceptable, and I take full responsibility for not noticing it sooner.”

Lewis leaned back in his chair, his jaw still tight.

“What’s the plan, Toto? Because I’m not letting this slide.”

Toto nodded, already making notes on a pad in front of him.

“First, I’ll be speaking to Mark, Alan, and Greg individually. They’ll be given the chance to explain themselves, not that there’s much room for justification here. If their behavior aligns with what you’ve described, they won’t be part of this team by the end of the day.”

A weight lifted off my chest at his words, but the tension in the room remained palpable.

“I want to be there,” Lewis said firmly.

Toto raised an eyebrow.

“Lewis—”

“No,” Lewis interrupted.

“This is personal. They didn’t just disrespect Y/n, they disrespected the team, the values we stand for, and me by extension. I need to make it clear that this behavior won’t be tolerated. From anyone.”

Toto regarded him for a moment before nodding.

“Fine. But let me handle the disciplinary side. You can say your piece, but I’ll deliver the consequences.”

Lewis nodded, satisfied.

“That works for me.”

Toto turned back to me, his expression softening once more.

“Y/n, I’m sorry you’ve had to endure this. If there’s anything else you need, support, time off, anything, let me know. I’ll make sure you feel safe and valued here.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion.

Lewis stood, pulling me up with him.

“We appreciate it, Toto. Let us know when the meeting is.”

“You’ll hear from me shortly,”

Toto promised, standing to shake Lewis’s hand before giving me a reassuring nod.

As we left the office, I felt a sense of relief wash over me.

For the first time in years, I didn’t feel alone in this fight.

Lewis wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we walked down the corridor.

“We’ve got this,” he said softly, his voice full of conviction.

I leaned into him, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Yeah, we do.”

Toto wasn’t one to waste time.

Within the hour, Mark, Alan, and Greg were called into his office one by one.

The first to arrive was Mark.

When he stepped in, he wore his usual smug expression, likely thinking this was just another routine meeting.

But Toto’s steely gaze and the presence of Lewis, standing tall with his arms crossed by the window, quickly shattered that notion.

“Have a seat, Mark,”

Toto said curtly, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.

Mark sat, shifting uncomfortably as he glanced between Toto and Lewis.

“What’s this about?”

Toto wasted no time.

“It’s about your behavior toward Y/L/N,” he said, his voice sharp and unwavering.

“I’ve been informed of your repeated condescension, disrespect, and comments that have no place in this team, or any professional setting.”

Mark blinked, caught off guard.

“What? That’s not true. I—”

“Don’t bother lying,” Lewis cut in, his voice cold and firm.

He stepped closer, his dark eyes fixed on Mark.

“We’ve both heard enough from Y/n and other team members. You’ve been targeting her for years, haven’t you? Questioning her qualifications, making snide remarks about her role here, and today, outright implying she only got her position because of me.”

Mark’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

“I… Look, it was just banter. No harm meant.”

“Banter?” Toto echoed, his tone dripping with disbelief.

“You call undermining one of the most talented engineers on this team banter? You call questioning her abilities and belittling her contributions banter?”

Mark leaned forward, desperation creeping into his voice.

“Toto, I didn’t mean anything by it! I was just—”

“Enough,” Toto interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.

“I won’t tolerate excuses. You’ve created a hostile environment for one of your colleagues, and that is unacceptable. You’ve not only disrespected Y/L/N but also the principles this team stands for. I don’t care how long you’ve been here, Mark. Your behavior is grounds for immediate dismissal.”

Mark paled, his smugness vanishing entirely.

“Dismissal? Wait, Toto, please. I’ve been with this team for years. You can’t just—”

“I can, and I will,” Toto said, his voice resolute.

“Pack your things. Security will escort you out by the end of the day.”

Mark turned to Lewis, desperation in his eyes.

“Lewis, you can’t agree with this. We’re teammates, for God’s sake!”

Lewis’s expression didn’t waver.

“You stopped being my teammate the moment you disrespected Y/n. Pack your things, Mark.”

Mark’s shoulders slumped, and he left the office in silence.

Next was Alan.

He walked in with a similar air of confidence, though it quickly dissipated when he noticed the tense atmosphere.

“Toto,” Alan began, sitting down and glancing uneasily at Lewis.

“What’s going on?”

Toto leaned forward, his hands clasped on the desk.

“What’s going on, Alan, is that your behavior toward Y/L/N has come to light. Years of dismissive comments, snide remarks, and today, a blatant attack on her credibility. Care to explain yourself?”

Alan frowned, leaning back in his chair.

“Look, I might’ve been a little hard on her, but it’s nothing personal. She’s young and still learning. I thought she could use a bit of tough love.”

Lewis scoffed from his spot by the window.

“Tough love? Is that what you call undermining her at every turn and insulting her in front of the team?”

Alan shifted uncomfortably.

“She’s good at her job, I’ll give her that. But come on, Lewis, you can’t deny people have wondered if her connection to you played a part in her being hired. It’s not like I said anything everyone wasn’t already thinking.”

Lewis took a step forward, his fists clenching at his sides.

“The only reason anyone would think that is because people like you spread that garbage around."

"Y/n earned her place on this team through her hard work and talent, not because of me."

We didn't even know each other when she joined. And even if, she didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, the way you’ve treated her is disgusting.”

Toto’s expression darkened further.

“Alan, you’ve been with Mercedes long enough to know we value respect and inclusivity above all else. What you’ve done isn’t just a breach of trust, it’s a breach of the very foundation of this team. Your actions have consequences. You’re fired, effective immediately.”

Alan stood abruptly, his face red with anger.

“You’re seriously going to throw away years of experience over a few jokes?”

“Yes,” Toto said bluntly.

“And I suggest you leave now before you embarrass yourself further.”

Alan glared at both of them before storming out, muttering under his breath.

Finally, it was Greg’s turn.

Unlike the others, Greg walked in looking visibly nervous.

He barely met Toto’s eyes as he sat down, fidgeting with his hands.

“Greg,” Toto began, his voice steady but firm.

“You know why you’re here.”

Greg nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah… yeah, I figured.”

“Then you know the kind of behavior we’re addressing,” Toto continued.

“You’ve contributed to a toxic work environment for Y/L/N and others. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Greg hesitated, glancing at Lewis, who was staring at him with barely concealed anger.

“I—I don’t have an excuse. I guess… I thought it was harmless, but it clearly wasn’t. I crossed a line, and I’m sorry.”

Toto’s brow furrowed.

“You thought it was harmless? You’ve made Y/n feel unwelcome and disrespected in her own workplace. That’s not harmless, it’s damaging. Apologizing now doesn’t erase what you’ve done.”

“I know,” Greg said quickly, his voice trembling.

“I know I messed up, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

“It’s too late for that,” Lewis interjected, his voice low but full of authority.

“You had years to change your behavior, and you didn’t. You don’t get to stay on this team after what you’ve done.”

Toto nodded in agreement.

“Greg, I appreciate that you’re taking responsibility, but the damage has been done. You’re no longer part of this team. Security will escort you out shortly.”

Greg’s shoulders sagged, and he nodded, standing to leave.

“My deepest apologies,” he said quietly before walking out.

By the end of the day, the three men were gone, and the Mercedes team felt lighter.

Word of the firings spread quickly, and several team members quietly expressed their relief and support for you.

Back in the garage, Lewis pulled me into a quiet corner.

“It’s done,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

I nodded, a weight lifting off my chest.

“Thank you, Lew. For standing by me.”

“Always sweetheart,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“No one messes with my girl.”

To all the women facing sexism at work, school, home or online: You are strong, capable, and deserving of respect. Don’t let anyone diminish your worth. Your voice matters, and you are making a difference just by being you. Keep pushing forward.

The end

[puckinghischier]

What do you think Quinn would do for a grand gesture when he was missing his girl?

seeing as he’s a sentimental sort, considering the gift he gave luke, i know he’d do something so over the top in the best way.

he’d already have bought you every long distance gadget in existence. the bracelets that vibrate when you touch them to let the other person know you’re thinking of them. the smart fridge he can leave notes from his phone on for you to wake up to in the morning. the lamp that glows a certain color when the other person misses you. the iphone widget he can draw pictures of flowers on before the real thing is delivered to your door.

he’d make sure he had every opportunity to make sure you knew he was thinking about you, even when he’s busy and on the road. sometimes a message or a vibration from a bracelet is all he had time for, but it was enough for you.

for him? nothing could ever replace being in your presence. he needed to see you, touch you, hear your voice. this past season had been rough. being away from you for so long, he was miserable. he found himself being distracted by thoughts of when he could get back home to you during practice or while warming up for a game. he was rushing post game media so he could call you before you fell asleep. he was skipping team bonding to facetime you and catch up on your day.

so, he started putting a plan into motion. he hoped it wouldn’t scare you off or freak you out, but he was too deep into it now to back out.

you had noticed he’d been spending a lot of time on the phone with his agent lately, assuming it was some negotiation for a brand or sponsorship. you knew it couldn’t have anything to do with his spot on the canucks, both the team and quinn loving the other too much to part ways.

but he started acting weird. he started being jumpy when you’d ask him about his conversations with his agent, curious as to what’s taking up so much of his time lately.

“just contract stuff. you know, i have to renew it soon and there’s all kinds of stuff that goes into that. brad’s just trying to get me the best bang for my buck,” he’d nervously chuckle, changing the subject quickly.

you were cleaning up the kitchen one day after making lunch, quinn having had to go to the rink for some kind of business meeting, he told you. you hear the door open and his keys fall into the bowl on the dining room table, a soft call of your name ringing through the space.

he walks into the kitchen to find you finishing up the last few dishes, making small talk until you’re finished and join him over at the end of the long island.

“whatcha got there, q?” you question curiously, noticing how he hasn’t let go of the paper once since walking through the door.

“oh, this? well, we need to talk about it, actually.” his nervous tone makes you nervous, worried about what’s on the piece of official looking paper.

“okay…” you trail off, not enjoying the nervous energy engulfing the room.

he clears his throat, running his fingers along the edges of the paper repeatedly, forcing himself to keep looking you in the eyes.

“so, you know how i bought you all those things to let you know i’m thinking of you when i’m not on the road? the bracelet, the lamp, the new fridge, the flowers and notes?” he lists off all the heartfelt things he’s given you over the course of your relationship, a smile taking over your face as you nod at him.

the smile on your face gives him a bit more confidence, more sure of his decision than he was just a few moments ago.

“okay, well, i can’t do that anymore. those bracelets? the lamp? the messages on the fridge? they’re not enough. they’re not cutting it anymore.”

your heart sinks. what does he mean it’s not enough? if it’s enough for you, why isn’t it enough for him? he’s the one that’s gone all the time. you’re the one who has to stay here and wait for him to come back. is this paper a new lease? is he kicking you out? breaking up with you?

you take a step back from him, your head filling with all kinds of negative thoughts as to what’s on that paper in his hand.

“quinn, i-i don’t understand. what do you mean-“

“please, just let me finish. i need to get this out and then you can ask me all the questions you want. and yell at me, if you feel the need,” he interrupts you, putting a hand up in between the two of you.

your mouth snaps shut, tears threatening to spill any second.

“like i said, the superficial stuff just isn’t enough anymore. if i can’t have you with me all the time, i don’t know if i can keep doing this. all of this. it’s killing me. i know it’s my fault i’m gone, but my god i miss you so much it hurts me,” he continues his speech, not picking up on the shake in your hands.

“quinn, you don’t have to do this. we can…figure something else out. i miss you too when you’re gone. so much,” your shaky voice tries to reason with him, not wanting to hear him say the words out loud.

he holds a hand up to silence you, effectively stopping your words.

“my mind’s already made up. already signed my name and everything, even if brad did think i was crazy,” quinn keeps going, confusing you even more.

what did his agent have to do with him breaking up with you and kicking you off of the lease you just signed together?

you don’t have time to ask him, because he lays the paper in front of you, sliding it towards you. “here, just read it for yourself.”

you pick up the thick paper, noting the canucks emblem stamped into the top of the document, your eyes falling to the long paragraphs taking up the majority of the page.

there’s one section that’s highlighted, marked to stand out specifically for your eyes.

“the canucks organization, in agreement with quintin j. hughes, hereby provides transportation, accommodations, and admission to 10 (ten) away games of his choice during regular season hockey, and every meeting of post-season playoffs if necessary, to one person of his choice, contingent of his reporting to canucks sponsored activities such as: games, practice, training camps….”

it takes your brain a few moments to catch up to what you��re reading.

he…rewrote his contract for you. he, somehow, convinced an entire organization to write into his contract a clause to be able to take you with him to games during the season. you look up at him, his nervous stare meeting your eyes.

you start laughing.

quinn was nervous for a lot of things. he was worried you’d freak out and say he was crazy for this. he was worried you’d be mad at him and tell him you didn’t want to go on road trips with him. he didn’t know if you’d cry or jump with joy or walk out on him.

but he never expected you to laugh at him.

you can’t control your laughter. you try, but it just keeps coming, every attempt at containing it only making you laugh harder.

“i don’t understand. what’s so funny here?” quinn manages the courage to ask, voice shaky and embarrassed.

you manage to calm your fit enough to gain a fraction of decorum back, taking a few deep breaths before responding.

“quinn, i thought you were breaking up with me.”

quinn’s eyes widen, not expecting the words out of your mouth at all.

“no, i- why would you think that?” he rushes out, walking towards you.

you wipe the tears from your eyes, trying to calm yourself even further.

“well, i don’t know. the way you worded it had me convinced you were bringing me a new lease you’d signed without my name on it or something. thought you were kicking me out,” you chuckle only slightly at the end of your explanation.

quinn grabs your face in his calloused hands, gently forcing you to look at him.

“i hope you know, i would never break up with you. not by kicking you out of the apartment, much less. if anything you’d be the one kicking me out.”

“well i sure hope not. according to your contract, we have eight more years of roadies in our future. think those accommodations would be real awkward if you kicked me out. wonder if petey would let me bunk with him?”

[kiwriteswords]

Drabble request—trying to explain to Hotch posting him on Instagram/making it Instagram official!

The Hard Launch [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader Drabble]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 600

TW: Age gap, social media use, non-BAU reader, Aaron Hotchner POV

Aaron Hotchner had never been one for social media. Not one bit.

To him, the value of a private life far exceeded the lure of likes and comments. 

However, as he sat across from you in the soft glow of your living room, he couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers danced with nervous energy over your phone screen. 

Penelope, who lived next door to you, had been the architect of your meeting. Her intuition had proved impeccable, as usual. Despite the age gap of twenty years between you and Hotch, the connection was undeniable. It was your youthfulness that breathed new life into his structured world, and in turn, he offered a grounding stability you cherished.

Although, in this moment, he felt from an entirely different generation.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hotch's voice was laced with caution as he watched you meticulously select a photo from your gallery.

You nodded, biting your lip in concentration. "Yes, but it has to be perfect. This isn’t just any post, Aaron. It’s us...going public. Officially."

Hotch’s brow furrowed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in thought. "And this is important because…?" His tone wasn’t dismissive, merely inquisitive. He genuinely sought to understand this slice of your world.

You paused, the selected photo of the two of you from Dave's retirement party displayed on your screen—both of you caught mid-laughter, a snapshot of genuine happiness. "It's about crafting the narrative we want to share. This," you gestured to the photo, "tells a story of joy. Of us. It’s not just for my friends but for anyone who comes across it. I want them to see the happiness we share, not just the age difference."

Hotch took the phone from your hands, studying the image. He had always been protective of his private life, especially after the tragedy with Haley and the constant threats that came with his job. But looking at the photo, the happiness evident in his usually reserved expression, he felt a rare surge of pride.

"You make a compelling argument," Hotch admitted, handing back the phone. "So, how do you make it ‘perfect’ then?"

You smiled, a sparkle of excitement in your eyes. "It’s about the caption too. It sets the tone." You started typing, your thumbs moving swiftly. "'A new chapter begins with endless possibilities,'" you read aloud, then looked up at him for approval.

"Poetic," he commented dryly, but his small, affectionate smile betrayed his appreciation. "You really think this is necessary?"

"It’s like marking a milestone," you explained, your gaze softening. "It's telling the world that this is my choice, our choice, and we’re happy. It's setting boundaries too, declaring that what matters is the narrative we choose to share and nothing else."

Understanding dawned on him then. It was a declaration, a way to control the story before others had the chance to define it for you. In his line of work, control was everything, yet here he was, learning a different kind of control—over personal perceptions and societal narratives.

"Okay, post it," Hotch said finally, the protective instinct giving way to support for your happiness. You looked at him, a mixture of relief and love washing over you, before pressing the share button.

As you set your phone aside, Hotch reached for your hand, a silent acknowledgment of the new step you both were taking. "How long until the world knows?"

You chuckled, "Give it a few minutes. Penelope probably already has the notifications on."

True to your words, within minutes your phone buzzed with Penelope’s enthusiastic approval and a stream of comments that followed. Hotch couldn’t help but feel a sense of rightness about it all. Maybe, just maybe, this social media thing had its merits, especially if it meant the world would know how proud he was to have you by his side.

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition pt. 2 ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

ft. gn! reader x asaba harumasa, billy kid, and seth lowell ; a follow up to my previous dating hcs (which can be found here) and a response to a request ( ^ω^ ) first post of the year（≧∇≦）i hope you enjoy reading!!

asaba harumasa

very clingy. when you're not together, he'd be texting you random little updates or beg for your attention just for the sake of talking to you if calling momentarily isn't an option. sometimes he tries to use you as an excuse to get out of work, but after he's done it a couple of times, you've become immune to always bending to his whims and suddenly he's whining about how you don't love him anymore.

["wait i'll look at your texts later brb love u ^3^" "so you hate me."]

an avid quality time enjoyer, if i've ever seen one. he's content with lazing around with you or doing mundane tasks that don't require much physical effort. likes cuddling against you when you're just sitting engrossed in doing something with your hands and reading or watching something together.

even though he usually appears and acts lighthearted, deep down, he's genuinely happy with you and the relationship you share. he cherishes every moment you can spend together and wishes it could go on for as long as he lives. you're the person he refers to as family when on one of his much-dreaded doctor appointments.

alongside the nightmares he already has regarding his sickness, he'd have times when he'd wake up in a cold sweat from dreams of losing or leaving you and the people he cares for. thankfully, on the days you sleep over, he has you; he's comforted by the sight of your sleeping figure and clings to you for the rest of the night.

on a lighter note, sharing a bed with this man is probably a chaotic experience on a dreamless night; initially, you'd both fall into slumber comfortably cuddled against each other, but the following morning, one of you would be seconds away from suffocating in a vice grip.

billy kid

loves playing games with you. he's usually competitive when playing against you but when you're both on a team together, he's suddenly the biggest cheerleader there is. if both of you lose, that's totally fine! you'll get it next time. what matters to him is that you had fun together.

deeply appreciates it and enjoys when you match him nerd-for-nerd, even if you don't share a lot of similar interests. you take turns randomly info-dumping about any piece of media or activity you're into and both of you pay genuine attention to whatever the other is talking about. he loves listening to you passionately talk or share anything about any topic because you do the same for him.

adding on to the previous point: both of you make jokes about liking your favorite fictional characters or celebrities more, just to be playfully petty.

["if you had to choose between me or monica, who would you pick?" "...well, yes!" "..." "alright, then. between me and /insert favorite character/--" "that's unimportant."]

after spending so much time with him, you already know which maintenance products he likes for himself or his guns. kind of like how other people know what shampoo or body wash their partner prefers. when you see he's running out and you buy them without telling him, he'll notice and be weeping tears of joy.

if you take a while to open up to him about certain things, he's alright with that and will tell you to take your time or give you the space you need. he's been the same when it comes to sharing his past with other people and understands that some things do take courage to tell.

seth lowell

despite having been in a relationship for a while, he most likely still gets easily flustered from any vaguely flirty quip and intimate gesture that comes from you. you could use this knowledge to your advantage but do have mercy on the poor guy.

[there was one instance where you gave him a quick peck on the lips without giving much thought to it before leaving and all he could do was stay where he was with his brain buffering for a whole minute.]

even though he's somewhat shy about expressing his admiration or appreciation for you and sometimes stumbles through his words when doing so, he's sincere in everything he says and does for you.

you're one of the very few people he trusts with touching his tail and ears. it's come to the point where when you're both just laying together, he wouldn't mind the feeling of your fingers gently rubbing on a certain spot on his ears while you run your fingers through his hair.

he appreciates that you see him for who he is and acknowledge his efforts to get where he is now. your affirmations, whether spoken or unspoken, mean much to him and he feels like he can truly be comfortable when he's around you.

sometimes, he unknowingly acts or does very attractive things and it just blows your mind. he'd steer you by the waist from bumping into things or, if you're shorter, accidentally pin you against a wall/surface when trying to reach for something from a high place because he just wants to help! you should be more careful, you know. but you've already mentally imploded while your sweet, sweet boyfriend remains clueless.

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

Hi can you please do a Damian Priest x Reader where the reader and Damian are dating and she gets jealous about him and Kayden are making TikTok videos together ( I love Kayden and her videos ❤️). And a fluff at the end.

●Damian Priest x Reader●

____________________________________________________

*Y/N's POV*

Sitting in the passenger's seat in my best friend Zelina Vega's car, I am scrolling on TikTok as she is driving us to our next location. I come across Kayden's video and the corner says "POV: he asks you to drive." I watch it and as the camera turns towards the passenger seat, Damian's body comes into frame making me gasp.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Kayden posted another video. And apparently she is driving Damian to the next show. When he told me he was going by himself."

"Girl.... I told you he was no good for you."

"I know. You have told me multiple times."

"Yes I have. And now he is over here taking videos with Kayden acting like they are together. Again. Maybe when we get to the hotel, you take him off your reservation for the room and make him have his own room. He didn't tell you he was going with Kayden than he can be surprised about his own hotel room when he gets there."

"I guess you are right. I am very pissed off about this."

"Give him a taste of his own medicine."

I shake my head, close my phone and lay against the seat starting to fall asleep.

____________________________________________________

*at the hotel*

We walk up to the counter and a nice lady greets us.

"Hello ladies. How may I help you?"

"I'm checking in for Y/N."

"Y/N and Damian?"

"No. Just Y/N. I don't want Damian on the reservation anymore."

"Okay. I can do that for you. Give me a few minutes."

She goes on typing on the computer while we wait. Zelina goes to another lady to check in. The lady gives me my keycard and all the information making sure Damian has been taken off the reservation. We grab our belongings and head up to our hotel rooms. I say goodbye to Zelina, swipe my card and enter my room. I throw my bags on the bed and flop down next to them. Next thing I know I am fast asleep.

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

*later in the night*

"Y/N! Y/N!"

I sit up, rub my face and try to understand why I hear someone yelling my name from the hallway. I get up putting my shirt and sweatpants back on that I apparently took off some time while I was sleeping. I walk up to the door and listen to who is shouting.

"Y/N! I will break down every one of these doors until I find you!"

"Please calm down."

I open the door and slightly look out seeing Damian looking super angry standing in the hallway and Kayden in front of him with her hands on his chest trying to get him to calm down. I open the door and lean against the doorframe crossing my arms. He sees me and pushes past Kayden walking up to me.

"Y/N! Why did you take me off our reservation?! You have someone else here?!"

He pushes me out of the way of the door and walks into my room. A tear rolls down my cheek at the questions he just asked me. He starts walking around my room looking for someone when I am the only one in my room. Kayden comes up next to me, puts a hand on my shoulder and looks in at Damian.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you in any way. If there is anyth....."

I stop her before she keeps talking.

"Its not you. You didn't do anything wrong. He lied to me. And now he thinks I'm cheating on him."

"I'm gonna go."

She turns and runs down the hallway when I turn looking at Damian who is standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. I close the door, turn to look at him and cross my arms as well.

"Care to explain why you took me off our reservation?"

"Care to explain why you lied to me and got a ride from Kayden?"

"I didn't lie to you! Kayden is my friend! I asked her to drive me because I was exhausted from having the main event of Raw! You already left with Zelina! I didn't wanna fall asleep behind the wheel!"

"You told me to leave with Zelina! That you would be fine driving by yourself! You didn't even text me to tell me you were going with Kayden! Than you keep making these tik tok videos together and everyone thinks you two are together and dating! Like you left me behind! You barely take pictures with me but you take videos with everyone else! How do you think I feel?!"

"I don't know how you feel because you never talk to me about your feelings!"

"I try but you never seem to have time to sit down and talk! You are either wrestling or hanging out with your friends! Then when you come back home to me, you go right to bed! When is there time to talk?"

He stares at me, looking like he doesn't know what to say. I wipe the tears that have seemed to start running down my face as I just laid out all my feelings to Damian. I take a deep breath and sit down on the bed.

"Y/N, I'm sorry...."

"Damian, I don't wanna hear you are sorry. I love you. But you really need to work on communication with me and spending more time with me. That's all I ask."

He kneels down in front of me putting his hands on the top of my knees looking up at me.

"Babygirl, I love you more than you will ever know. I will work on communication with you and we will spend way more time together that you might get sick of me."

I giggle looking at him. He puts his hands on my cheeks looking at me smiling.

"I promise Y/N. With my whole heart. I love you."

"I love you too."

He pulls my face to his and kisses me hard. He starts pushing me back on the bed climbing over top of me still kissing me. Seems I will be in for a long night.....

THE END.

[loredrinker]

Inflection, Context, and Elven: Lavellan’s Veilguard Ending (romance state)

Lately, I’ve seen quite a bit of criticism directed at a romanced Lavellan on my dash - particularly in the Veilguard ending, interpreting her as needy, egotistical, or entitled.

And I am wondering: Did we watch the same ending? (I find it fascinating how differently people interpret the same moments - such a reflection of the human experience.) And I couldn't help myself! I felt compelled to share my interpretations so I punched this out the last few days.

The sticking point seems to be Lavellan’s words, especially the ones spoken in Elven.

It seems like a common interpretation of Lavellan’s words here are: 

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me.” (Implying possessiveness or entitlement - and that she alone will make it better.)

The game’s delivery offers no inflection on any word though. For me, it’s always been: 

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me.” 

It’s subtle, but very different. This is just one micro-example of how much nuance is packed into the dialogue in the Veilguard ending. These lines shouldn’t be taken in isolation - especially not the Elven ones. They should be understood in the context of what Solas says to Lavellan in Elven just before, and beyond that, within the history established in Inquisition and Trespasser.

Indulgent Solas x Lavellan post ahead.

Note: I respect and appreciate all Solas ships and I will never post negativity towards other interpretations in this space. Everyone deserves to enjoy their creativity and find joy in their community. There’s more than enough Solas to go around. As for Lavellan’s portrayal in VG, it's not perfect. I understand the devs had the impossible task of balancing every interpretation of her. Some dialogue between Rook and Lavellan took me out of gameplay a bit. But I recognized then they had to condense countless versions of her into one, and perfection wasn’t possible. In general I have honest criticisms about the game but try to keep my posts positive overall.

Still here? Excellent. (And sorry, it's another long post.)

"Elven is often a game of intents, not direct mapping of phonetic meaning." The language doesn’t rely on straightforward translations of sounds or words into specific meanings. Instead, it operates on a deeper level, where intent and context carry as much weight.

Earlier in the game, when Solas confronts Elgar’nan, he says: “I must speak to you in this tongue. It seems Elven is beyond your grasp.” This insult implies that Elgar’nan has lost the ability to understand the nuanced, metaphorical nature of the language. Elven relies on shared understanding, rhythm, intent, to convey its full meaning. By Lavellan and Solas choosing to speak Elven to each other it's an acknowledgement of their shared understanding - a connection rooted in their history going back to Inquisition.

Which is why I embrace it in my interpretations.

I disliked that Veilguard kept out the Elven words and left only the English translations in. They can be found here: (Elven Language - Dragon Age Wiki)  But for funsies, let's take Lavellan’s actual Elven dialogue and translate it literally: Banal nadas. Ar lath ma, vhenan. We already know from Inquisition that Banal nadas translates roughly to "Nothing is inevitable" - the same phrase Solas uses when confronting the Nightmare Demon. So Lavellan is saying: "Nothing is inevitable. I love you, my heart."  The gall of this woman! 

Since I do my best to keep my posts playing in the game’s sandbox, I’m going to just look at what the game tells us the translations are and not get into actual translations (others have done that far better than I ever could). There are some great fandom language resources linked at the end of this post. 

Let's start where Lavellan enters and speaks in the common tongue: 

This is personal and expansive. On one level, she’s speaking as someone Solas has wronged, reminding him of the pain he’s caused her directly. But on another, she’s channeling the voices of countless others whose lives were affected by him and who will be shattered by his actions. It’s a challenge that blends her role as both an individual and the Inquisitor.

It’s also not a condemnation. Lavellan doesn’t lash out or accuse him of being irredeemable. Instead, she questions him, cutting through to reach the man beneath. She’s speaking to Solas (wisdom).

"Vhenan" is acknowledging his love for her but it’s also symbolic of his heart, the part of himself he’s buried and tried to ignore, suddenly reappearing. Solas has spent much of his journey detached and isolated, removing his heart metaphorically to push forward with his plans without the weight of emotional ties. Lavellan’s presence makes it impossible for him to keep it hidden. His heart is right there, exposed and speaking. And the ellipsis - so many words unsaid.

Immediately Solas looks down (I read it as shame). It’s a reaction back to what he said in Trespasser: that he would not have her see what he becomes. And yet, here she is. She sees him, the terrible path he has chosen, the blood on his hands, the awful things he has done, and what he’s about to do. In that moment, his shame is palpable - because Lavellan is one person he couldn’t bear to face in this state. 

And Lavellan doesn’t hesitate. Her next words are as much about holding him accountable as they are about reminding him that there is still another path. 

This isn’t some starry-eyed, naïve Inquisitor we’re dealing with (at least mine isn’t). Lavellan is fully aware at this point. But her stance is clear: no one is beyond redemption, not even the Dread Wolf himself. And she wasn’t the only one – this message is repeated throughout the game by others. 

Her words challenge the belief that has kept Solas shackled to his path. He’s convinced himself that his guilt and mistakes are too great, that there’s no turning back, and that the only option is to see his destructive plans through to the bitter end.

She doesn’t beg or demand or frame it in a way that’s grand and sweeping – she simply says “you’re wrong.”  

She’s not trying to erase his mistakes or pretend they don’t exist. She's saying, Yes, you’ve done terrible things, but that doesn’t mean you’re beyond the reach of change.

Lavellan’s journey as Inquisitor began with the Anchor - a mark born of Solas’s mistakes and choices. From the moment she touched his orb (yes, it sounds dirty), her path became entwined with his. This isn’t Lavellan selfishly claiming Solas’s path; it’s an acknowledgment that their journeys have run parallel.

Their connection was forged long before either fully understood its implications. Lavellan’s work to stabilize Southern Thedas mirrors Solas’s aim to restore a broken world, including the burdens of being forced to take on titles and labels. She is revealing her own struggles with devastating, blood-soaked choices - choices that, like his, have carried profound consequences.

Solas believes he’s been walking this path alone, but Lavellan shows him she's been walking alongside him this whole time. Now, as their paths converge again, this is a reminder of the power of connection and the burdens they’ve both borne. He's actually not alone.

Her words also carry an unspoken promise: she is ready to continue to bear the consequences with him. She knows the road ahead is painful and fraught with difficulty, but she is steadfast.

Why do I feel that people sometimes forget Lavellan’s role as Inquisitor? She wasn’t defined by Solas; she was the leader of a powerful military and political organization, forced to make horrible decisions. Whether you choose the mages or templars in Inquisition, you doom thousands to torment and death. The Empress of Orlais can live or die based on the Inquisitor’s choices. And if you’re like me and made the wrong calls on the Dalish clan war table operation, her own clan can be murdered and wiped out.  (Yes, I’m still haunted by that moment.) Her hands have blood on them too. This makes me wonder: does some criticism of the Solas/Lavellan romance stem from failing to see Lavellan as her own person? I love Lavellan for who she is as the Inquisitor - not because of Solas. Likewise, Solas is fascinating on his own. Their romance is one layer of the story, not the foundation of either character. Sometimes it feels like there are even some Solas/Lavellan lovers who have a tendency to overlook the depth and individuality of both characters outside of their romance.

Solas’s statement is a raw admission of all the guilt he carries for his deceptions and the pain he has caused her - lying to her about his identity, betraying her trust - not just as the Inquisitor, but as a person he loves.

His words are not an attempt to seek forgiveness but an acknowledgment of the truth - no matter how painful it is for them both. He knows his choices have caused devastation to the world and to her specifically. He's exposing the full weight of his dual burden: the grand, world-altering consequences of his plans and the personal betrayal of the woman he loves, who trusted him. 

Perhaps, on some level, he hopes that reminding Lavellan of his lies and treachery will convince her to abandon him, sparing her further pain. His guilt and self-loathing are so entrenched that the idea of being forgiven - or even supported – either confounds him or terrifies him.

But Solas’s confession is not just a shield to push her away. It’s also an invitation for her to see him - not the wise, compassionate companion she knew, but the flawed, broken man beneath.

This moment to me shows that Solas still values Lavellan’s understanding (we also saw it in his letter to her). He doesn’t diminish the weight of his actions but wants her to see the cost of his deception - not just for her, but for himself. To Solas, his betrayal is unforgivable. 

And yet - this "selfish" woman dares to forgive him anyway. 

Forgiveness is an act of wisdom because it requires understanding - and she reflects that wisdom right back at him.

"All you have to do is stop" is heavy with meaning. Yes, on the surface, it’s a plea to stop tearing down the Veil, to reconsider the destruction. But it’s also a plea for him to stop running, to stop isolating himself, and to stop punishing himself for his failures. She’s asking him to step out of the shadow of his self-loathing and see that there’s another way forward, not by demanding or commanding, but by offering him compassion (forgiveness). (Cole, I miss you.) 

But Solas’s guilt and self-loathing run deep.

With these words, Solas apologizes to his heart - hardening it once more. For a moment, it had softened, cracked open. But he shuts the door.

The bow that accompanies his words is loaded. A bow carries layers of meaning depending on context - reverence, respect, gratitude, apology, greeting or farewell, a spiritual act, acknowledgment, loyalty, mourning, or even a romantic gesture. Solas’s bow can mean all of these. 

He is physically reinforcing the gravity of his apology. It’s a solemn moment. He is bowing to her strength, to all she has endured because of him. And when he calls her "vhenan," it is personal. It's an apology to her and to his own heart for not choosing the life he wanted to have with her.  “...to stay by your side as Solas...as I wanted.”  

The bow also carries guilt. He is acknowledging the pain he’s caused and humbling himself before her. And his eyes in the animation during this moment – I saw haunted, tormented, tired eyes – the eyes of a man grappling with the weight of his choices and the thought that he cannot accept redemption, even if it’s offered freely.

Time for a an indulgent moment - a bow can also symbolize acceptance. What if, in that moment, it’s not just an apology? What if it’s Solas saying, “You’re right. You have walked this path with me. I acknowledge that.” The bow could be a tacit agreement - a recognition of a future with her. What if he’s asking: I’m sorry, but I can’t stop, are you still coming with me? And Lavellan’s eyes right after? She looks down, like she’s contemplating this - what if he tears the Veil down? What happens next? What do I do? Anyway, maybe I indulged with this thought a little too much.  

But, as I’ve said before, it takes a village to stop a Solas. Cue Morrigan and Mythal - but I’m not diving into that dialogue rabbit hole in this post.  

But this scene with Mythal is important. Lavellan has just watched the man she loves completely crumble in front of Mythal. He’s bent over in grief/pain, utterly vulnerable. She hears him say, in anguish, “The things that I have done.” She sees him lift the dagger - perhaps to surrender it, to shield himself from Mythal, or even as a plea to Mythal to end his torment. Whatever the intent, Lavellan is witnessing the rawest, most broken Solas. His guilt is overwhelming, and this is the first time she’s truly seeing the full weight of it laid bare (as is Rook). It’s a moment of heavy sadness for her – and for us as players. 

This scene seems to have created a universal understanding among players who love Solas, regardless of who you ship Solas with. We are all witnessing Solas in this moment of pure vulnerability. Let’s honor that shared empathy. 

Solas is bent over with the emotional collapse of centuries of obligation and guilt coming to the surface. Mythal’s departure leaves Solas vulnerable, stripped of the purpose that has guided him for so long. He is alone in his pain.

For Lavellan, can you imagine the helplessness? All she can do is offer her presence, understanding, and faith in him afterward. That might feel like so little in the face of such immense pain, but it’s all she has to give. 

Where Mythal’s words, spoken in the common tongue, are authoritative and final, Lavellan’s are intimate and personal. Her choice to speak Elven reflects her desire to meet Solas where he is - connecting with him on an intimate level.

Only after Mythal has left him exposed - that Lavellan uses the Elven language. In this moment, stripped of his defenses, he is finally open to hearing and feeling the full significance of the words and their intent.

Lavellan’s words challenge the notion that fate is immutable or inevitable. When she says, “there is no fate...,” she isn’t diminishing everything else in favor of her love; she’s rejecting the tyranny of inevitability. Her words assert that choices - rooted in love, connection, and shared purpose - have the power to shape their path forward. She reframes love as a force just as powerful as fate, capable of creating meaning and direction where there once seemed to be none.

Atonement

And at this point? Lavellan has no idea what Solas will do next. None of them do. But the combined efforts of Rook, Lavellan and Morrigan get through to him. Because Solas makes a choice - a monumental choice. He binds himself to the veil, committing to atonement. Atonement is a powerful, active word. It evokes the gravity of recognizing wrongdoing and the courage to address it. His decision to seek restoration with the Titans, to deal with the Blight, to return to where it all began, reflects the depth of his remorse and his willingness to rebuild the balance he disrupted – from the beginning. 

Solas equates atonement with isolation, believing that his punishment must be borne alone. To him, atonement requires severing ties, including the possibility of love. He doesn’t ask Lavellan to join him because he cannot conceive of burdening her with the weight of his choices and the path he must walk.

But Lavellan’s words - once again - challenge that. She offers him the possibility that his actions, no matter how devastating, do not erase the love and faith others still have in him. This is an invitation.

She's also being vulnerable here. She’s offering herself to him, knowing full well that he still might say no. A risk she’s willing to take. 

He doesn’t try to shut her out or push her away this time. Instead, he shifts the focus - he needs her to understand the gravity of the path they are about to walk. His response reflects his own vulnerability as well, he wants her to know what she’s choosing, but he can’t bring himself to reject her offer outright. 

Solas responds in Elven - his acknowledgment of their shared understanding and their entire relationship and journey that has shaped them.

His words also mark a turning point: for the first time, Solas allows Lavellan her agency. Throughout their relationship, he has taken her choices away. He broke off their relationship in Inquisition. He vanished after Corypheus’s defeat, leaving her no say in it all.

And he knows this! During their confrontation in Trespasser, when Lavellan demands answers, he justifies his deception with, “And what would you have had me say? That I was the great adversary in your people’s mythology?” Her cutting reply, “I would have had you trust me!” lands with devastating clarity. His face falls, struck by the hard truth: the man who values freedom has stripped hers away. And he's going to do it again.

This moment in Veilguard feels like a callback to that. Lavellan is asserting her choice. And this time, Solas doesn’t take it from her.

By framing his destination in such stark, "terrible" terms, Solas isn’t pushing her away out of cruelty. He’s laying bare the enormity of what lies ahead, warning her of the peril while giving her the freedom to choose for herself. It’s his way of ensuring she understands the stakes.

Solas is doing what she requested long ago - trusting her - and what a choice to place that trust in. He’s entrusting her to make an informed decision about stepping onto a path that could shape the future of Thedas. He is trusting Lavellan’s strength and resiliency. And in trusting her, Solas reveals a quiet, unspoken truth: he doesn’t want to face this journey alone. By even presenting the choice, he reveals a quiet hope that she might go with him, despite everything.

To me, what makes this moment so achingly beautiful is the duality in his expression. His eyes seem to plead two things at once: “I don’t want to put you in harm’s way,” and “I can’t deny wanting to be with you.” There’s a raw vulnerability in the way he looks at her.

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me.” 

Lavellan’s response is a direct challenge to Solas’s warning. He tells her the path ahead will be awful - because of him. But she counters, saying that it’s because of him that it won’t be. This isn’t her forcing herself into his journey or suggesting that she alone will make it better. Instead, it’s her way of expressing that his presence will give her the strength to face whatever lies ahead. She’s trying to ease his mind, while also signaling her willingness to trust him again.

At the same time, her words acknowledge the weight of Solas’s suffering, offering herself as a partner to bear that burden together. She isn’t dismissing the risks or downplaying the severity of what’s to come - she’s choosing to stand beside him, fully aware of the challenges ahead.

It’s not about personal gain; it’s about shared resilience. Lavellan’s focus is on what they can endure together, not on what she might receive from the journey.

And since the Fade reflects emotions, as many have pointed out, their combined trust and love could manifest in ways neither of them can predict. Their bond has the power to shape not just their path but the very world around them.

This declaration is past, present and future; it’s a reaffirmation of their bond, a recognition that they’ve been walking the path of the dinan’shiral together all along. It’s future focused - she is offering to shoulder the burden with him going forward.  

She’s also telling him that she won't abandon him, no matter how hard the road ahead may be. 

And at the end of the day, she's a woman who still loves him. What does Prince Lir say in The Last Unicorn? "I love whom I love."

I've never interpreted Lavellan as someone sitting by a window for ten years, writing sad poetry and sighing into the wind, longing for Solas. She’s been busy - rebuilding a fractured world, navigating political fallout, and seeking understanding. Lavellan’s love for Solas isn’t blind devotion; she’s holding onto the possibility of redemption and the deep impact he had on her life. In my world state, Lavellan’s clan is wiped out. The people of the Inquisition have become her family, the ones she fights for and protects. And indirectly, Solas gave her that family. Despite the pain he’s caused, her love for him reflects the complexity of her journey - one defined not by a single relationship, but by hope, resilience, and the connections she’s forged along the way.

Lavellan then leans in to kiss him, and Solas allows himself to be drawn in. This moment is acceptance - a silent vow, a promise sealed in their shared vulnerability. It’s an intimate connection forged in front of those who have just witnessed the emotional storm that brought them to this point, as if to say, “This is where we stand, together.”

While I won’t dive into fly-cam images (you can find some here), there are some tender subtle details: the way he caresses her hands with his thumbs, the way he holds onto her one hand as she pulls away, as if he’s not ready to let go. But I promised to stay within game constraints.

And then Solas turns to Rook and says, “Thank you.”

Solas doesn’t thank Rook when he hands them the dagger, nor when he’s preparing to walk into the Fade. He says it after the kiss. Make of that what you will but Rook’s is symbolic for me, especially after thinking about this ending a bit.

In thanking Rook, Solas acknowledges not only their actions but also their understanding of the connection he shares with Lavellan. Rook, transformed by their own relationships and the bonds they’ve formed throughout their journey, embodies the themes that have always defined Dragon Age to me: connection, fellowship, community, love, and redemption. These games (again, for me) have always been about how people, despite their flaws and struggles, can come together to make the impossible possible.

Rook’s symbolism in the redemption ending feels like the culmination of this ethos. They represent how even those who begin on the periphery of great events can become central to forging bonds and creating change. Solas’s gratitude is for Rook's empathy, their recognition of the importance of connection, and their role in bringing these threads of love and redemption together. I'll go cry now.

And off they go into the Fade.

The Final Translation 

"With Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain dead, and the Inquisitor finally reunited with her true love, it looked like one of the biggest stories the world had ever seen was finally drawing to a close."  

Varric’s narration ties the ending image back to the connection between Inquisition and Veilguard. Inquisition is the Inquisitor’s story; Veilguard is Rook’s. Solas serves as the thread linking them. Varric frames this moment through Lavellan’s perspective, narrating the story like one of his novels - not to diminish Solas, but to highlight the Inquisitor’s journey. After all, Veilguard wouldn’t exist without Inquisition. Rook wouldn’t be working with Varric or searching for Solas if not for the Inquisitor.

As much as I would have loved a deeper focus on Solas, Veilguard wasn’t his story. If Inquisition is the Inquisitor’s story and Veilguard is Rook’s, this ending is a shared culmination: for a romanced Lavellan, it’s the personal resolution of her journey; for Rook, it’s recognition of their critical role in saving Thedas.

Okay, indulgence over - whew, that was long! I really need to practice shorter posts.

In the end, those who dislike this romance or this ending probably always will. That’s fine; I just wanted to share my interpretations because I genuinely love this story for all its complexity.

To everyone who made it to the end of this post - thank you for joining me in my indulgence. May your own Solas ships continue to bring you joy and inspiration.

Elven language resources: 

Project Elvehn on AO3 

Elven Translator 

World Anvil Elvhen Resource 

Reddit on Elvhen Poetry 

[teaguehq]

I'm glad you have more an appreciation for Calgary for staying here with me! And aside from the cold, I have to admit it's a nice city for all the fun things we've had the chance to see together. Seeing them with you makes them all the more fun, of course. That works out perfectly because I love attending your premieres and especially getting to see your projects on the big screen! I just know how much you put into your work, so it's no surprise it ends up being something special. People like a man in uniform for a reason, and I'm sure I'll be no different when I see Warfare, which you know I'm excited to see! I'm so happy you're not having to work either, and that I'm getting a little vacation for the holidays. It gave me the chance to finally drag you down to Florida with me, which I'm so happy you wanted to! Besides, we were due some warm weather after all that cold in Calgary and New York, don't you think? We can definitely think of a fun Halloween costume for next year, though closer to so we can match whichever ones are popular at the time if we'd like to. I'm sure it'll be just as fun dressing up with you again as it was this year! I appreciate that you'll always be understanding about distance when it comes to our relationship, and it certainly puts my mind at ease about ever losing you to that. Plus it means the world to me that we can celebrate our achievements together, including landing new roles! I can't help that being in your arms is so comforting, especially after a long day on set, so it's a good thing you don't mind the clinginess! You're already thinking up some new dates to plan? Because you know I'm interested in hearing those! And I may be planning something fun for Tampa while we're here, so it means a lot that you enjoy them. I think we both have a soft spot for the hot springs in Calgary, and no doubt we'll have to visit them again before my filming there is over. Recreating everything we've done there has been a lot of fun too, and you know I'm always up for that. I'm all for staying a little longer to take advantage of the hot springs since that seems like the perfect post-filming celebration. Not to mention I always love hot tubs with you, and loved them when we visited New York. I'm blushing a little at your saying you love me being all yours, and honestly, I like that too, along with you being all mine. If you love the way I look in your knitted items, just means you might have to knit more for me, don't you think? That feeling is so mutual, wanting to be near you, and it's impossible not to miss you when you're away. I'd wondered if Bach would be okay with traveling, so I'm just glad he's been such a good sport about it! And I'll still keep the secret about you liking my cuddles more than his and me liking your cuddles more, don't worry. It'll definitely be fun to meet up with Anya and Jamie in Paris to see the secret entrances to the Catacombs, and you know I'll always hold your hand through it all, too. I'd love to go back to that pub and see if it floods again, and if you'll have to carry me over your shoulder! I can't help blushing when you say things like I'm the sexiest, which it still feels a bit surreal that you think so. Though I'll always think you're more sexy, that's a given! Kissing you will always be the best way to start the day, and it's part of why I enjoy you being with me so much. We did an amazing job at breaking in your New York place, without a doubt, and I'm already looking forward to doing that all over again next time we're in the city. And my place too, since I know we have to break that in a little more. You're happy being where I am? That makes me happy to hear when it's so mutual, though I will say that I'm always willing to travel to London with you whenever you're missing it.

I'm so happy you enjoyed the bar with live music, since it's one of my favorite spots in New York! Dancing with you honestly just made it all the better. I'm all for taking more cooking classes too, because you're right, we need to learn more recipes to fill those books with! I'm happy you're as enthusiastic about that as I am, along with finding new meals we'll both enjoy. I'd been looking forward to the trip also, and we can go and meet Bentley tomorrow if you'd like! And you're thinking of giving the sanctuary a donation? You have such a kind heart, and I know they'd appreciate that a lot since like you said, they always need the funds to help out. I was happy you didn't mind meeting my parents, which I knew they'd like you! They'd been curious about you too, and I think they're relieved I'm with someone who's as amazing as you are. I understand being nervous since I'm nervous about meeting your family too, though I'm going to trust that they'll like me as much as you say. I'm excited to take you camping later in the week too, since I know a really great spot for it near a ranch where we can even see some cattle! I think that'll make it all the more fun. I'd love to visit those thermal pools in Turkey, especially since we already have a soft spot for those, and the surroundings are gorgeous. Having so many holidays planned suits me just fine too, when I'd love to see the world with you. And your spoiling me is honestly the best bonus, though you should expect some spoiling in return! Plus you're welcome to wake me up that way as many times as you'd like, given I enjoy it so much to start the day. Between that and our morning showers, I feel like I'm becoming more of a morning person, too. You don't have to be nervous about scaring me off, especially when I don't think that's possible. You…you love me? And think about all those things like living together and getting married? I can understand being nervous to say it when those are really big things to say, though I'm glad you did. I love you too, and I've known that for a little while - I think I kept quiet for the same reasons, not wanting to scare you and being a little afraid that it would. But I want you forever too, Joseph, and I can't ever see a time I don't, so it just makes me really happy we're on the same page, even if it's a little scary! But neither of us have to be scared when we're on the same page, right? You don't have to worry about me kissing you all the time, since I always will! Well, everyone was pretty amused by us when you made me run off set in the middle of a scene, though it's good to hear everyone's teasing you makes you feel at home! And that's good to know you'll always enjoy those kinds of favors, given they're a lot of fun with you and tend to linger in my mind, too. I always like having hot chocolate on the roof, and you being there and being in your arms just made it all the better, of course. I still smile so much thinking about that surprise in at your place and all the decorations, since you went all out for them, not to mention the red theme! We definitely had a perfect first Christmas together, and New Year's as well! I'm so happy you liked the gifts I gave you too, and we'll have to start mandolin lessons soon, don't you think? I couldn't resist getting you knitting supplies either, knowing hos much you like it! My gifts were so thought and lovely too, and I felt so spoiled! I know I'm never taking that necklace off, not to mention I'm excited about the cruise and planning that when we can! Bringing in the New Year kissing you in Times Square was incredible and I loved every moment. We'll have to go back to Devonian Gardens for another picnic before we leave Calgary too, don't you think? Which, I'm so happy you're not filming for a while and get to stay with me. I know we both need our parents, though it's nice we can take care of each other as well. Because that's mutual, that I'll always do whatever I can to make sure you feel happy and safe. | @josephafq

it's safe to say that you always make me feel amazing, love, and i can't help but feel amazing that i mean so much to you -- especially when you mean so much to me too. i've loved getting to stay with you while you've been filming too, and i'll admit that i've grown kind of fond of calgary! plus, it makes me feel good hearing that things are much better with me being there, i love that so much. i'll just say right now that you're the best date to have, and i love having you on my arm at premieres! though you're making me blush saying i do such amazing work, and it means the world that you think that, love. and it makes me feel good that you can't wait to see warfare as well, and i'm told i look pretty good in uniform, so you'll have some eye candy while watching as well! even though you know i love working, things feel so much better now that i'm not, and i can be with you all the time because i love being able to spend so much time with you. we'll have to think of a cute couple costume for next halloween, don't you think? and you know i'll never agree that i took the title sexy over you, love, though you're right that we both looked pretty amazing, and it was so much fun dressing up with you! again by making me blush, calling me extremely talented, and it feels so good hearing that you're proud of me, you know? you're right, even though we both hate the distance when we're apart, i know we'll both do everything in our power to make it work, and that's all that matters in the end. and it's safe to say when it comes to you -- i'll always be as understanding as i can be, yeah? and i love getting to celebrate with you when you land a new role because you're so talented, and i love when other people are getting to see that too! i'm very glad i don't have to worry about losing you, love, since i truly would be lost without you. and it feels good hearing that you'd never want to lose me either. i love that we're both clingy, it makes me smile when we want to hold onto each other so much. and it makes me feel good knowing that being in my arms is a cure-all for you because i love making you feel better, love, and love having you in my arms after you have a rough day on set. i love making you feel better. i'm so glad that you like the dates i plan, and i'm already thinking up some new dates to plan! it's also safe to say that i love when you plan dates too, love. and the one we had before we left for new york for christmas was amazing! you more than thanked me for always being here for you too, i loved it so much.  and you know i love staying at the hotel near the hot springs a whole lot already, and i just love being in the hot springs with you! so it makes me smile to hear you say it's one of your new favorite places, since i love going there with you just as much. and we're getting so good at recreating everything we've both been thinking about when we're there, yeah? you know i'm all for making the hot springs our last visit once you're done filming, love, and maybe we can stay there a little longer too. what do you think? oh, we always have so much fun in hot tubs when we have access to them, right? and i'm so thankful that my building in new york has a hot tub and pool, since we had so much fun using them. especially with the weather being as cold as it was in new york! and i know we'll be doing the same in calgary, since the weather is colder there! glad you think it's adorable that i want you in that state to be for my eyes only -- and it feels good hearing that you want to be the only one that sees me in that state as well. i just love you being all mine, you know? and don't want to share that sight with anyone!

i'm so glad that you love my knitted items, love, and i'll admit that it makes me smile when you wear them as well. and i love the way you look in them -- though it's safe to say i love the way you look in anything! i just always want to be near you, you know? so the moment we're apart, i can't help but miss you. and i'm glad that it's the same for you, love, and i love that you want to be so close to me all the time. i'm glad that you were happy bach has been traveling with us, he travels better than i thought he would, honestly. though i'm glad that you don't love his cuddles more than mine, of course, and we'll just have to keep it from him that you like mine better! i'm glad that i always have you to hold my hand when we go on a haunted adventure with jamie and anya -- and i'll have to let them know about us all meeting up in paris sometime! and from what they tell me, they know all the secret entrances, or are at least always finding some, so it should be fun. it makes me smile when you laugh about me carrying you at the pub, and i love the idea of you laughing if i tossed you over my shoulder to carry you next time, which means we need to go back to that pub so i can do just that, yeah? oh, i love the reaction of you blushing when i call you sexy, which is why i say it so often, but also because you're the sexiest. it makes me smile when you say that you think i'm the sexier of the two of us, even if i don't agree with that, love. i'm glad my kisses that i give you before you need to be on set help start your day so perfectly, especially when i love waking up and being able to kiss you. that's how i feel when we get to sleep in as well, very spoiled, i love getting to be wrapped around you for as long as possible. i'll admit it's fun silencing you with kisses, especially when you laugh a little whenever i do it! it's safe to say we did a very good job of breaking in my new york place for christmas and the new years, wouldn't you agree? and i loved that we got to spend at least one day at your place breaking it in a little, we'll spend more time there though, no doubt about that. it's funny, i'm still not missing london all that much -- though i have a feeling it more has to do with the fact that i'm with you than anything else, and you feel like home to me so i'm happy being wherever you are. it was fun going to a bar in new york that played live music, especially loved when you danced with me. we have to take some more cooking classes, yeah? because we need to fill those recipe books that you got me for christmas, love. and i can't wait to fill them with you, i can't wait to find new things to cook with you. i know i'm going to look forward to going to florida with you, love, and it'll be so much fun meeting bentley since you adore him so much! of course i understand missing you, you're very easy to miss, just saying. the sanctuary runs on donations, yeah? maybe i can give them a little something as well as help out. what do you think? i don't think it's too soon to meet your parents, love, because i really want you to meet my family too. especially when i talk about you so much to them and they can't help but be curious, you know? i'm a little nervous about meeting them, though, because i want them to like me, but can we make a plan to meet them soon? then after i meet your parents -- you can meet my family, who i just know are going to love you. i can't wait to camp with you in flordia, and just spend so much time on holiday with you when we've got the free time, love.

i had a feeling once you looked up the pamukkale thermal pools you would think they were gorgeous -- so i'm glad you're all for heading to turkey for those, and i know you'll love the hotel as well, love. and i'll just say that i love we've got so many holidays planned, you know? i'm going to spoil you so much on every one of them! i'm glad that you think i look so adorable when i blush, that makes me smile and just makes me love when you make me blush all the more. hey, i'll always wake you up that way if you'd like, love, since it's my favorite way to wake you up and all. and i'm glad it makes early mornings a whole lot more fun too, and of course i love our morning showers just as much! yeah? i'm glad to hear there isn't a time when you don't want me, since i spend every day and probably every minute wanting you. i do think about our future a lot, and i'll admit i'm a little nervous sharing some of the things i think about, mostly because i don't want to scare you off. though it makes it easier when you say it feels impossible to not see a future with me, so it makes me feel better about saying it all out loud. but..i think about us in the future settling down together. getting a house, getting married -- even maybe starting a family if that's what we both want. it's scary as hell saying all that out loud; i'm not going to lie, but i…love you and it feels good to lay my emotion cards on the table with you. and i really do want you for as long as i can have you, so please let it be forever, yeah? you're the most beautiful person i know, love, and i'm always going to say that. i love that picturing me pouting makes you want to kiss me, but i love even more being with you so you can kiss me all the time you'd like to, and please kiss me all the time! love, it's so cute that you had to promise him you wouldn't abandon a scene again when i showed up on set this time around. though i love that they tease me a little about it too, it makes me feel pretty welcome there! believe me, anytime you give me something like the favor you return, i'm going to think about it for a long time. it was really fun having hot chocolate on your rooftop that one night, plus i loved having you in my arms and just looking out over the city. i'm really glad that we ended up doing new york for christmas, my apartment ended up looking amazing thanks to the people i hired, and it was just the perfect first christmas with you! and i'm still not over the gifts that you got me, love, and i can't wait for you to give me mandolin lessons! plus the braclet and the beatles gift, which still makes me smile so much that you got me that, and the knitting stuff, i loved it all so much. and new years was great with you too, love, so glad you got to be my first kiss of the new year, and you know you're going to be my only kiss for the rest of the year too. it was fun bringing in 2025 with you though! i'm so glad you suggested devonian gardens for our indoor picnic. by the way, it was so gorgeous there, and the picnic was perfect. yeah? i love when you encourage me to touch you more, just saying. i'm happy to be with you too, my love, and i'm glad that i don't have to start filming for a while now so i can stay with you. and i know, baby, that's why i'm so glad to be with you now since the material is so dark, and i'm glad that i can bring you some comfort when you're dealing with some rough things. and i'm so glad you had your parents for thanksgiving, it makes me smile that seeing them helped, but i get it because after filming warfare, i needed my mum and dad too. i'll also always take care of you, okay? never doubt that -- anytime you need me, i'll gladly be here and do whatever i can to make you feel better. || @teaguehq

[luxcuriousao3]

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Chapter Eleven

Summary: “You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories. Word Count: 2413 Warnings: vaguely erotic candy sharing, mentions of past abuse, mostly just fluff tbh (this story has a surprising amount of fluff for being set in a literal zombie apocalypse) Notes: Sorry about not updating last week--I was on vacation and had forgotten my laptop. I have also decided I will be posting on Sundays from now on. Hopefully still once a week, but I'm running out of pre-written chapters, and with the semester starting again soon, I am not sure how much time I will have for writing. I've also been struggling a bit with motivation. All dividers were made by @/sweetmelodygraphics (original post here). The zombie divider indicates the text below is Ghost's POV, the dove divider inidcates Lelia's POV. The combined dove and zombie divider represents a time skip but not a POV change. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Also, the poems referenced in this chapter are, in order of appearance: i am at the bottom by Innokenty Annensky (translation by R.H. Morrison), Invictus by William Ernest Henry, and i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) by E.E. Cummings. AO3, Masterlist

When the sun began to cast its weak winter light into the bedroom, Ghost carefully untangled himself from his dove, smoothing a hand over her hair before leaving to check the kitchen. He found a single box of stale cereal, already open and mostly empty. It wasn’t enough. He cast a glance outside, at the knee high snow drifts. There was no way she could go out to search for supplies. He would have to leave her behind and search himself. He was far from pleased with that, but especially since he hadn't yet had the chance to clear the village, but he didn’t have much of a choice. At least she would be safer in the house than she was the tree.

Taking advantage of the mixing bowls and pots left behind, Ghost collected freshly fallen snow in every single one he could find, then brought them back inside to melt. That was the one good thing about the snow. For as long as it was clean, Lelia could drink it.

“Simon?”

He heard his dove calling him from the bedroom, and he grunted loudly to let her know he was still here. A second later, little footsteps padded into the kitchen to join him. Her long hair was mussed from sleep, and a thick quilt was wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, dwarfing her small frame. He wondered if she’d look just as tiny wearing nothing but his shirt. Innocent and soft with sleep, just begging to be lifted up onto the table so he could spread her legs and ravish her…

Ghost looked away quickly. He couldn’t think like that. Especially not after what she’d confided in him last night.

Last night, when he had cradled her close, and she'd let him touch her face with the same reverence she did his whenever she brushed his teeth. When he’d leaned their foreheads together, her hot breath misting over his face. Her pink, pouty lips had been so close, close enough to touch his own… if he’d had any.

“Good morning,” his dove yawned as she approached, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Simon stiffened, before automatically hugging her back. He couldn’t kiss her, couldn’t make love to her, but he could treasure every touch she gave him, just like he’d promised himself he would last night.

He slowly, painstakingly uttered a garbled ‘Good morning, Dove,’ back. It sounded more like an animal dying, but Lelia beamed up at him anyway, cheeks pink.

“I bet if we found a way to fix your jaw, you’d be able to speak clearly,” she said, reaching up to carefully hold his hanging jaw in place. The broken bones grinded against each other, and his teeth clacked together loudly. His dove rubbed her fingers against his skin soothingly, even though she knew by now that he didn't feel pain. She sighed. “But I have no idea how we’d go about doing that.”

He covered her hand with his, squeezing it gently before pulling it away from his face. His jaw flopped open grotesquely, but Lelia didn't flinch. It warmed something inside him.

Keeping a hold of her hand, he led her over to the table, which was loaded up with bowls, pots, and even mugs full of half melted snow. Her eyes brightened, and he didn't have to tell her what they were for. She grabbed the closest mug and downed its slushy contents, smacking her lips and shivering afterwards. Ghost chuckled, and she grinned cheekily at him. Christ, he swore that one of these days, her smile would restart his heart.

Ghost returned to his dove after several hours spent combing the village for supplies. He’d not gone far, so he’d only managed to clear a small part of it, but he was unwilling to leave her alone for any longer than he had to.

He knocked on the locked door three times, paused, and then twice more. After a moment, Lelia opened it, still wrapped in her blanket, and he stepped inside, stomping on the floor to shake the snow from his boots.

“Did you find anything?” She asked, and Ghost would have grinned if he could. He swung the rucksack off his shoulder and reached inside, pulling out a candy bar and presenting it to her. Her face lit up, eyes bright, and she threw herself at him in a hug. He chuckled and hugged her back for a few seconds before gently pushing her away, not wanting to get her wet.

He hadn’t found much else—just a couple cans of food, and a new torch—but he tried not to let his worry show, not wanting to ruin the small moment of happiness for her. She’d already ripped open the silvery wrapper, and she took a big bite, moaning in delight at the taste. Ghost wrangled his depraved thoughts, morbidly glad that his cock couldn't twitch and give him away.

Lelia savored the bite of chocolate, caramel, and peanuts for a long moment, eyes closed and expression one of bliss. Simon savored her in turn, the upward tilt of her lips, the chocolate smeared on her chin, and the sticky, smacking noises of her chewing. Her joy was sweeter to him than any candy could ever hope to be.

Finally, Lelia swallowed, opening her eyes again as she broke off a small piece, holding it up to his mouth.

“I know human food doesn’t… fuel you,” she started, and he tried not to laugh again at the careful way she phrased it. “But does it still taste good, at least?”

Ghost eyed the piece of candy skeptically. He couldn’t recall ever trying regular food after turning. He didn’t think he’d ever even thought of it—the craving for flesh was far too strong.

He couldn’t smell the sugary sweetness of the candy bar, but it did look appealing. Or perhaps it was his dove’s chocolate covered fingers that had him beginning to drool…

Before he could turn away, she popped the piece of candy into his mouth, holding it there. She set the rest of the bar down on the table and reached up with her other hand, gently grabbing his broken jaw and beginning to move it up and down, helping him chew. Simon stared at her, his ruined brain lagging like a shitty computer—even as his tongue greedily lapped at her skin, ignoring the candy entirely. Lelia blushed, and that sweet, musky scent of her arousal soon filled the air.

“Do you like it?” She asked, her voice slightly breathy. Simon nodded, practically in a trance, and quickly swallowed the candy. He reached up to hold onto her wrist, though, keeping her fingers in his mouth and he methodically licked each digit clean. She gasped quietly, but didn’t pull away, big doe eyes looking straight into his own.

He stopped himself before he began to slobber all over her palm like a dog—or worse, try to take a bite. Lelia shivered when the cold air hit her spit-soaked skin, and he grabbed a rag from the kitchen sink, beginning to clean it for her. The two of them stood in slightly awkward silence, until she picked up the candy bar and took another—much smaller—bite, and hummed happily.

“Thank you, Simon,” she said, voice earnest and grateful. “I needed this. I needed something good.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile again.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you,” she said, voice soft and teasing. “What would you like? A filet mignon? Baked Alaska?”

“A blowie?” Johnny's voice echoed in his head, whiny in a playful way. It sounded less like an interjection this time, and more like a memory. “C’mon, Si, ye owe me fer tha’ bit o’ friendly fire! Nearly took me bollocks off!”

Ghost tried to cling onto the strange memory, to examine it further, but it slipped away like water through a sieve. He focused back on the present, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully before nodding at his dove. There was something that he’d been wanting to ask her…

He stepped closer, reaching into the breast pocket of her leather jacket and pulling out a small book. The cover was red and made of worn leather, with faded, gilded letters embossed on the front. She sucked in a startled breath. Clearly she hadn’t realized he’d known about the book she always carried around, never taking it out in front of him. He felt a bit bad, guessing it was supposed to be a secret—but she’d offered. He opened it to a random page and held it out to her, unable to meet her eyes.

“You want me to read to you?” She asked after a moment of hesitation, reluctantly accepting the book. Simon nodded, embarrassed but refusing to show it. What he really wanted was for her to teach him to read again, but that was too much to ask for. So he’d settle for the sweet sound of her voice telling him stories.

“Alright…” she trailed off nervously. She took his hand and began to pull him over to the couch. She was stalling, that much was clear. “Let's get comfortable, first.”

He let her sit him down, let her take his wet boots off—resolutely ignoring the dirty thoughts that stirred at seeing her on her knees in front of him—let her fluff up the pillows and arrange them just right before curling up on the opposite end of the couch, book in her lap. He sat patiently as she stared down at it for a long moment, working up her courage. And when she finally opened it again, he leaned forward, full of anticipation as she flipped through the pages.

“Most of this book is in Russian,” she admitted. He blinked in surprise, and she huffed a little laugh. “It’s my first language. My parents were displeased by that. I was their own fault for letting my governess raise me all by herself, though.”

She shook her head, stopping at a page a third of the way into the book.

“My first word was яблоня. The Russian word for apple,” she told him, a small, sad smile on her face. “It’s what I named my teddy bear. I kept that bear until Andrew threw it away on our we— I mean… well. Until Andrew threw it away.”

On our wedding night.

The missing words were easy enough to fill in. Simon remembered the time she’d almost spoken about a husband. He remembered how disgruntled he’d been by the thought that she was married. How jealous. Now, he only felt a simmering rage in his chest, like a false heartbeat. If he ever laid eyes on Lelia’s husband, he’d tear him apart.

“Anyway,” she whispered, delicately learning her throat and quickly moving on, clearly not wanting to be questioned about her slip. “I’ve translated some of them, or at least my favorite stanzas. I’ll read you one of those.”

Poems? He thought curiously, eyes on her as he listened with rapt attention. Of course she liked poetry. Pretty words with hidden depths. Just like her.

Then, she began to read.

“I am at the bottom; I am a sorrowful

Fragment; above me the water is shimmering

Green. Out of the heavy glass darkness

There are no roads for anyone to anywhere…”

“I didn't always like that one,” she admitted into the silence that followed. Simon was still digesting the poem, his ears ringing a little bit. The words had touched something deep inside him, whispering of memories just out of reach. “But that was because I didn’t understand it, then.”

He grunted, moving a little closer to her and tapping the book.

“Another?” She asked, surprised. He nodded, and she blushed, looking unsure. “I don't know… I don’t want to bore you…”

Ghost gave her an unimpressed look and just tapped the book again, a little harder this time.

“Fine, fine,” she huffed, but he could see the slight amusement in her eyes. She flipped through the book for a moment before stopping, dragging her fingertip down the page. She was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering over the lines, before speaking again. “This one… this one is one of my favorites. It’s not a translation. Just an English classic.”

“Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.”

There were tears in his dove’s eyes by the time she finished, and Simon reached out to wipe away one that slipped down her cheek. She let out a little embarrassed laugh, ducking her head and scrubbing at her face.

“Sorry,” she whispered, closing the book. “That one always makes me emotional.”

He could guess why. He only knew an inkling of what she had been through, but that was enough. That she was still standing at all was proof of how strong she was, in his opinion. Bloody but unbowed indeed.

Simon managed to convince her to keep going, and at some point over the last hour, his head had ended up in her lap as he laid down across the couch. She carded her fingers through his hair as she read aloud, choosing her favorites—but avoiding any that she herself had written. They were far too embarrassing.

Had she not known better, she would have thought Simon was asleep. His eyes were closed, a deep, content rumbling echoing from his chest. She had to stop herself from giggling when she realized how much he resembled a cat, like that.

“And this is the secret that’s keeping the stars apart,” Lelia recited the last two lines of what had been her favorite love poem for most of her life. She wasn’t even looking at the book anymore, her soft gaze focused on Simon, eyes tracing the features of his mask. She wished he would let her see under it. She wouldn’t flinch away from whatever she found—nothing could make her see him as anything other than beautiful, not anymore. “I carry your heart; I carry it in my heart.”

[lemotmo]

People are once again going off about Ryan being homophobic. Even when Buddie gets together, I know this unfounded claim will continue 🙄

Yeah, I have seen a couple of people posting about it and the discourse around it. It seems to be mostly contained over on Twitter though. Or I have really curated my Tumblr well, because I haven't seen anything like it yet. I'm not sure which one it is.

It's a laughable accusation really when you think of it. Ryan is the one who coined the Buddie name for the ship. How many times does he have to say in an interview that he wouldn't mind the story going into the Buddie direction? How many times does he have to say that it's important to support your loved ones when they come out to you, like Eddie supported Buck when he came out? The man talked about reading Buddie fanfiction and watching Buddie edits for crying out loud. He even reposted some Buddie stuff on his Instagram.

Anyway, I have accepted that some people will never give up making the guy into some kind of villian. Mind you, he isn't a saint, but neither are any of the other actors. They're all just people, like us. We've all made some dumb mistakes in life we wish we hadn't. But that's all a part of the journey of life.

Obviously I don't know the guy. None of us do. What we know about him is all very superficial stuff, but that's okay. I like Ryan and I'd love to get the chance to chat with him one day, but I admit that I'm mostly here for Eddie Diaz and what he has going on in his life. So I'm mainly invested in Ryan's bts or 911 interviews. I'm not as invested in anything he does outside of 911.

Look, it comes down to this: if people can't look past other people's mistakes after they have done everything in their power to apologize and show them they are trying to do better? If they can't move on after they have clearly been forgiven by the people that actually know them and love them best in life? Then that's on them.

So I don't care anymore. I just block the instigators that spread nonsense like that and move on. There is nothing to be gained by engaging these people. They already have their mind made up and nothing I or anyone can say will change their opinion of Ryan. I refuse to add fuel to the discourse. It only makes the discourse more widespread and problematic.

So let's all agree to do just that: ignore, block and move on. It will make everyone's fandom experience a lot more fun, I can guarantee you that.

I'm pretty sure that is exactly what Ryan does as well by the way. Him and Oliver are very similar in that regard. They just do what makes them happy, don't share too much about themselves and live their lives, ignoring all the social media shit. Combine that with a job they both seem to love? Yeah--

Good for them.

[sturns-angel]

bsf!matt finds out bsf!reader has been feeling the same way he has... ❗️SMUT - MDNI❗️ ❕WRITER'S NOTE: this is my first smut that i'm actually posting, PLEASE tell me if this is ass.❕

"get off of me, you freak!" nick shouts, shoving chris with an exaggerated amount of force. chris stumbles back towards the counter and i can't contain my laughter. they've been 'arguing' for the past 10 minutes while matt and i simply sit back and enjoy the entertainment.

i had agreed to filming a video with the triplets before finding out the topic; 'say it or eat it'. the challenge of eating something disgusting doesn't scare me, it's the questions. they've been ruthless thus far and i can only assume they're gonna get worse. i've already been asked 2 questions as of now and i just know that the rest will be harsh.

'describe your first love.' nick read from his phone with an almost evil smirk. i stare at the spoonful of sauerkraut that's set out on the table in front of me and gulp. 'in what way?' i ask, eyeing the brothers standing beside me.

i had reluctantly answered the question in order to avoid the punishment.

'matt! describe the last dream you can remember, including embarrassing details.' chris announced as he pushed a small bowl of blue cheese stuffed olives towards him. matt groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. he looked to the bowl, then slowly lifted his head as he found my eyes. i raised my eyebrows as i waited to see how he'd handle the situation. before chris can continue with his peer pressure, matt grabbed 2 olives and popped them into his mouth.

chris takes a swig of hot sauce to avoid his question and immediately runs to the sink to rinse his mouth out.

"y/n!" nick grins, holding his phone close to him as if he's trying to hide a secret. "who's your current crush?" chris squeals and jumps around while i stare at the poorly cooked shrimp (thanks to chris).

"that's not fair!" i exclaim as i wince away from the dish. "the only way i can answer that is with a full-on name drop!"

matt chuckles and quickly joins chris in the background of the initial set up, leaning against the counter. despite my gaze being set on nick, i know matt is staring at me. i can practically feel his gaze burning into my skin.

"okay, okay. i know you hate shrimp so i'll make it a little easier." nick explains while he locks his phone and sets it on the table. "describe your current crush; physical or however you choose."

i can feel the heat rushing to my face as i think of my crush. about 5'9, brown hair, blue eyes, full lips, standing within arms reach of me. my mind wanders while chris rushes over to me and throws an arm around my shoulder.

"c'mon y/n! shrimp or most-likely-shrimp-dick?" chris laughs and i nudge his side. when i turn my head to give chris a disgusted look, my eyes meet matts. his gaze is hard, yet somewhat playful. he's always been a bit more protective over me than the other triplets. his judgements of any guy that i showed the slightest bit of interest in were harsh.

i look back to chris who is impatiently waiting for my response. "this is ridiculous." i scoff and brush my hair out of my face. "he's funny, nice, and attractive. done." i throw my hands up. chris and nick groan in annoyance at my answer.

"y/n, that's so lame! we need more than that, like the color of his eyes or..." nick trails off, but chris is quick to continue. "what's the first initial of his first name?" chris asks.

i quickly pick up a piece of the shrimp and take a bite, silently gagging as soon as it hits my tongue.

the last round of questions go by fast, the usual chaos occurring as we finish out the video. matt makes his way over to the camera to do his regular outro and i feel an arm wrap around my shoulders once more.

"thanks for doing the video with us. i'm sure it wasn't easy with your crush here." nick says with a wide grin on his face. i roll my eyes with a soft laugh. of course nick knows about my feelings for matt, but that's as far as i’ve been willing to take it. matt and i have grown super close over the past few weeks and it's made me realize i want more than what we currently have, i just can't bring myself to risk our friendship.

"nick, i'm sleeping in your room tonight and i'm going up there immediately. i'm exhausted." chris explains as he makes his way over to the stairs. nick nods and adds in that he'll be joining him while following close behind.

"are you staying the night?" i hear matt ask while i clean off the table, quickly joining to help me.

"yeah, i'll probably just crash on the couch again." i explain, wiping the table off once matt clears out the last bit of food. he lets out a soft hum in response. we spend a few minutes in silence as we finish cleaning the kitchen before matt finally speaks.

"do you wanna watch a movie? i'm not really tired and movies are a bit boring alone." he asks, wiping his hands off on some paper towels. "unless you're tired - i mean - don't want to-"

"yeah, we can watch a movie." i cut him off with a soft smile. we settle in on the couch in the living room and quickly decide on a thriller. luckily, i came over in a some sweatpants and a t-shirt so i was already pretty comfortable. the same can't be said for matt. about 10 minutes into the movie, i notice matt fidgeting and tugging at his jeans. "you alright?" i ask once matt stands up from his spot on the couch.

"yeah, i'll be right back." he quickly mumbles and rushes off to his bedroom. i turn my attention back to the movie, barely picking up on the plot. matt soon returns in a pair of sweatpants that sit low on his hips and the infamous cropped pink t-shirt.

as he makes his way over to the couch, i can't help but notice the lack of a waistband from his boxers. my eyes slowly travel down and it becomes very obvious why the waistband is missing; no underwear.

i quickly shift my gaze back to the tv, watching the main character move around aimlessly through her house. my mind melts away from the movie when i feel a dip in the couch, much closer than earlier.

"alright, babe. don't hog the blanket." matt jokes, pulling the small throw blanket closer and tossing it over his legs. the 'innocent' pet name is nothing new and neither is the effect it has on me. i subtly smush my thighs together and give some slack to the blanket.

15 minutes. 15 absolute agonizing minutes go by before i shift in my seat, somewhat forgetting the arousal between my thighs. matt slings an arm over my shoulders and i feel my breath hitch in my throat.

sitting close on the couch, sharing a bed (but keeping our distance), locking arms in a crowded place; all of this is normal for us. normal for best friends. as innocent as it seems, this is uncharted territory. i'm not even sure where to go from here so i slowly lower my head onto him, resting on his collarbone.

"y/n." matt whispers and i hum in response. i wait for a moment, only silence following his initial speech. right as i'm about to speak, he clears his throat, obviously contemplating his next words. "now that the camera's off, can i know who your crush is?"

i laugh softly and bring a hand up to my face, pinching the bridge of my nose as i think. not much thought needs to be put into who my crush is. i just need to tread lightly. i want to have matt in my life in whatever way he'll allow. telling him the truth about my feelings could easily ruin that.

"c'mon, i thought friends were supposed to tell each other everything." he jokes, reaching his hand down and lightly tickling my side.

"it's not really - it's not a big deal." i respond, hoping that will satisfy him. of course, it doesn't.

"is he your age?" matt presses. i purse my lips and keep my eyes trained on the tv.

"he's like a year older." i answer with a shrug, doing my best to keep my response as nonchalant as possible. matt lets out a low chuckle, shifting slightly.

"okay... do we know him?" he asks. i know who 'we' is. he wants to know if i've mentioned this crush to his brothers, possibly brought him around without matt knowing.

"yeah." i respond softly. he clears his throat once again, but this one sounds more forced.

he knows. he knows and he's uncomfortable. why didn't i just lie? why didn't i just avoid the question completely in the video? of course, he's uncomfortable. i'm supposed to be his best friend, but i've secretly been thinking of something more. why did i-

"is he - um - like, in the house?" matt's question pulls me out of my thoughts then immediately throws me back into them. i start to lift my head off of him, trying to create some distance between us, but his arms tighten around me. they squeeze around my waist and hold me close to him.

i try to answer his question, but i feel like all the moisture has left my mouth, making it impossible for any words to form. i settle on a soft nod.

my heart feels like it's about to beat straight up my chest and out of my throat. "y/n." matt says, his voice slightly more serious than before.

i don't move. i'm practically paralyzed in the realization that he definitely knows. my breathing is sharp, shallow.

"y/n/n." the nickname gives a slight ease to the conversation. i slowly lift my head to look up at him. before i can fully move, i feel his slender fingers rest under my chin to pull my face closer to his.

his face is so close to mine, our noses brush together slightly. my eyes lift to meet his and we're frozen like this for moment. a moment trapped in time. it's intense, yet comfortable. my brain turns to mush and the words fall out of my mouth before i can even register what i'm saying.

"he's right in front of me."

his soft lips are a stark contrast in the harshnesses he pushes them against mine. this is all i've wanted for the past month. this is all i've dreamt of and it's even better than i imagined.

his lips mold perfectly to mine as if they were made for this, made for this moment. his hand moves down from my chin, wrapping around the back of my neck. i quickly bring my hands up, letting one rest comfortably on his chest while the other reaches up to caress his cheek.

he deepens the kiss, pulling me impossibly close and swiping his tongue over my bottom lip. i shift once again in my seat, pulling my knees up and leaning on them. his tongue explores my mouth as he quickly pulls me into his lap. i swing one leg over to straddle his lap.

"i need you." he murmurs against my mouth before moving his attention to my neck. his soft lips quickly find the sweet spot just under my ear and nip at it gently. "i've needed you for so long." he whispers.

"matt..." i whimper, gripping his shoulders tightly. he hums against my neck, hand traveling down and sliding under my shirt. his fingertips brush over my sensitive nipple and i can feel a smirk growing his face. he cups my breast, slowly and gently massaging it.

"did you expect this to happen or am i just that lucky?" matt chuckles and moves his mouth back to mine, swallowing the soft moans i left slip out.

i groan softly when his hand suddenly leaves my skin. he grips the hem of my shirt and gives it a soft tug, silently asking for permission. i quickly pull the shirt off of me and watch as his eyes travel over my torso, growing darker. the sudden realization hits me that my best friend is staring at my bare chest and i move closer to him, attempting to cover myself. his hands hold firm on my waist.

"you're perfect..." he mumbles, looking into my eyes with an expression i've never seen from him. i scoff, rolling my eyes and shifting my gaze away from him. "y/n." one hand reaches up to gently grab my chin, turning my attention back to his face.

just as he's about to speak, we hear the sound of a door opening upstairs, followed by heavy footsteps. our eyes widen and i throw myself off of him. he quickly moves the blanket over my body and i curl up into a ball, snuggling into his side.

just as chris rounds the corner, my eyes land on my shirt that was carelessly thrown to the floor. shit. "y/n, if you drank the last pepsi 'm gonna-" he freezes, staring at us for a moment. i quickly move my eyes to the tv, pretending to be interested in the movie. after sitting in silence for what feels like an eternity, chris squeals and runs back to the stairs. "nick!" he shrieks and i feel like my face is on fire.

"fuck, here we go." matt groans, running his fingers through his hair. chris makes it about halfway up the stairs before he turns around and peeks over the ledge of the wall.

"also, on the couch? you have a bed, matt!" chris exclaims, grinning widely despite him trying to act disgusted.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

my head is thrown back against the arm of the couch as i bite my lip, trying my best to conceal my moans. matt's fingers pump in and out of me quickly, curling to hit just the right spot. while his fingers work to bring me closer to climax, his mouth is moving back and forth between each of my nipples, softly nipping at the sensitive buds.

he was so quick with his movements once chris disappeared upstairs that i was barely able to register what was happening. now here i am, completely bare in front of matt as he pushes his fingers into me.

"fuck, matt!" i exclaim quietly, rushing my fingers through his hair and tugging lightly. he moans against my skin and i feel myself clinching around his fingers tighter.

the burning in my core is building, growing stronger and stronger. my walls flutter around his digits and i can feel my eyes rolling into the back of my head. i feel like i'm floating, preparing to release what's been building in my stomach. i'm fully prepared to let go when i suddenly feel empty, his fingers pulling out of me and dripping my arousal onto the couch.

before i can protest, matt shifts, pulling me into him with his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. he quickly lifts me off the couch and i instinctively wrap my legs around him, tucking my head down and leaving hungry kisses up and down his neck.

he rushes us over to his room, closing the door with a swift kick and tossing me onto the bed. he quickly removes his shirt and throws it across the room, groaning as he stares down at my leaking cunt. he reaches for the waistline of his sweatpants, but i quickly sit up and swat his hands away.

he stands at the foot of the bed while i reposition myself, sitting on my knees and leaning back on my heels. i swiftly pull his pants down and his thick cock is released, springing up towards my lips. before his pants can hit the floor, i lunge forward, wrapping a hand around the base and sucking his tip into my mouth.

"fuck, y/n..." he moans, staring down at me as i sink my mouth further down. i'm intimidated by his size, but the urge to please him and feel him as much as i can overpowers the intimidation.

i hold him in my mouth for moment, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. i maintain eye contact as i slowly pull his length out of my mouth, sticking my tongue out farther to tease the underside of his cock. quickly, i push him back into my mouth, bobbing my head quickly and using my hand to pump what i can't fit.

my free hand reaches up and grips onto his thigh to keep myself stable. matts grunts and moans fill the room, causing my wetness to grow. i can feel my arousal dripping down my thighs as matts hands move to my shoulders and he lightly shoves me off of his throbbing dick.

"i need to fuck you. right now." he admits, kicking off the sweats that were just pooled around his feet. "lay back, sweetheart." he instructs and i immediately obey, laying back on the bed and letting my head rest against the pile of pillows.

he climbs on top of me and uses a knee to gently nudge my thighs. i spread my legs, allowing him to slot his body between them. the tip of his cock brushes against my neglected clit and i can't contain the moan that escapes me.

"you have to be quiet, babe." matt chuckles, reaching between us to position himself at my entrance, dragging his tip around it. i giggle softly and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

"matt, i think they already know what's happen - fuck!" i interrupt myself with a shriek as he roughly pushes his thick cock into me. before i can make another sound, his hand travels up my body and clasps over my mouth. he stays still for a moment before slowly pulling out and slamming back into me.

he lowers his head and grazes his teeth over my earlobe. "i don't want anyone else hearing these pretty sounds. this is only for me." he whispers as pistons in and out of me.

my moans are muffled by his hand and he quickly moves it, shoving his ring and middle finger into my mouth. without a second thought, i wrap my lips around his slender fingers, tasting the residue of myself on them from earlier.

"fuck - feel s'good." he grunts lowly, lifting his head to rest against mine, our sweaty foreheads connected as he stares into my eyes. his eyelids are low and i can feel mine slowly closing, succumbing to the pleasure. "keep 'em open. i need - shit - need to see you."

i lazily open my eyes and stare into his, drowning in the feeling of his cock pushing into me with a rapid pace. his tip brushes my gummy, sweet spot and my lips fall away from his fingers, letting a moan fall past my lips.

reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of my mouth and loosely wraps them around my neck. "m-matt..." i whimper, feeling my pussy pulse around him.

"give it to me, pretty girl. fuck - make a mess all over me." he grunts, his thrusts losing rhythm and stuttering. "gonna stay quiet f' me?" he asks breathlessly.

i shake my head rapidly, knowing the pleasure is too much for me to be quiet. a smirk slowly creeps up his face, a sinister look appearing in his eyes. he pulls out quickly and i subconsciously push my hips down, searching for the feeling that was just ripped away from me.

he roughly grips the back of my thigh, pushing it up and leaning over me once again. my leg dangles over his shoulder as he quickly pushes back into me. he instantly resumes his pace, hitting a new, deeper spot inside of me.

"fuck!" i exclaim, throwing my head further into his pillows. he props himself up on his forearm, his other arm snaking between us. i feel his hand pressing against my abdomen, creating a brand new sensation for me. i'm a blabbering, whimpering mess beneath him as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. that familiar burning sensation makes another appearance and i can't hold back anymore.

he leans in closer, whispering obscene things to me, but i can’t concentrate on his words. the only thing i’m able to focus on is the knot in my stomach completely unraveling.

“matt, oh-“ his lips connect to mine, cutting me off. he grunts against my lips and i can feel his cock twitching inside of me. he chases his high as he pushes me further and further. i’m slightly overstimulated, but i don’t care.

“fuck, fuck.” he mutters against my lips before stilling inside of me. i can feel him filling me up, soft grunts leaving his mouth as he softly drops my leg.

we lay there in a comfortable silence for a minute, his head resting in my neck and my fingers raking softly through his hair. once we’ve both caught our breath, he shifts slightly, the movement of his now soft cock inside me causes me to wince.

“‘m sorry, i couldn’t even think straight. i should’ve pulled out.” he huffs, slowly pulling out. he sits up and i can see something flash in his eyes as he sees his cum slowly leaking out of me.

“it’s okay, matt.” i giggle. “i’m on the pill.”

“okay, good because i definitely need to see this again.” he says calmly, reaching down and pushing his release back into my pussy. i whine at the feeling, my face scrunching in discomfort.

“shit, sorry.” he whispers before quickly moving off the bed and putting his sweatpants back on. he quickly shuffles out of the room and i lay there staring at the ceiling. i can’t believe what just happened. obviously, i’m happy about what happened, but now we have to figure out what the hell this is. are we just friends who occasionally fuck? does he want to actually date me? will this never happen again? pushed to the back of our minds, pretending it never even happened.

i’m pulled from my thoughts when i feel matt softly brushing a towel against my core, cleaning me up. when he’s done he tosses the towel in his laundry basket and climbs on the bed.

“you can wear this if you want. just thought it’d be comfortable. it’s my favorite sleep shirt so…” matt says, holding a black t shirt out to me. i sit up and take it from him, giving a quiet ‘thanks’ with a soft smile. i slip the shirt on and sit back against the headboard.

when i turn to look at matt i see that he’s already looking at me, eyes soft and a small smile on his face. “what?” i ask shyly.

“you’re so beautiful.” he responds, voice barely above a whisper. i can feel myself blush and i look away, staring at nothing in particular. “stop doing that.” he says as he grabs my hand.

“i’m not doing anything!” i defend with a giggle. he pulls me closer and reaches down to grab his blanket, pulling it over us. he shuffles a bit, laying down comfortably. he drops my hand and holds his arm out, sending a silent invitation for me to join him.

after settling next to him and laying my head on his shoulder, he speaks up. “i’m not a liar.” he says. i give him a confused look and he turns his head towards me. “when i compliment you, it’s always the truth. you really are beautiful.”

i can’t stop myself from smiling and i move a hand up to rest on his cheek. i pull him in and kiss him softly. this kiss is probably the softest one that we’ve shared at this point and i can feel every emotion, every unspoken secret between us.

just as i pull away, ready to say something, the door opens quickly. matt and i snap our heads to the doorway and see nick and chris with smug smiles.

“awww! what a cute couple!” chris squeals, clinging onto nicks shoulders. nick shrugs him off and i feel matt snatch a pillow from behind us, throwing it at the boys.

“get the fuck out!” matt yells while i hide my face in his chest, trying my best to conceal my laughter.

[hexedwinchester]

What the later seasons of Supernatural are Missing?

It's no secret that as Supernatural added more seasons, the quality of the show deteriorated and the only reason it ran so long was because of Jared and Jensen. This dilution is attributed to a lot of reasons: Kripke's era coming to end, change of writers and show runners, poor writing on the part of new writers, focus of the story shifting from Sam and Dean to supporting cast. But here's something I don't see folks mentioning a lot and that is it lacked a good villain and not just that but rather a good villain with personal interest/vendetta with our boys. Let me explain..

Season 1 and 2: Though season 1 starts off with the boys looking for their father, the plots twists into Yellow Eyes chasing Sam down for personal reasons. He is invested in Sam, personally. That's what makes it beautiful

Season 3: Stakes are high as Dean is on the clock to walk the red carpet to Hell. While that's a major crux, Lilith who holds Dean's contract is also making the vendetta quite personal

Season 4: Sam is pumped on Demon blood being manipulated by Ruby to kill Lilith to stop the apocalypse with a side of getting some revenge for dragging Dean into Hell. See what I mean? Personal again. It's all about the boys

Season 5: it can't get any more personal than Lucifer and Michael twisting the guys to say yes to being their vessels. While the angels try everything to get a yes from Dean, let's put that aside for a minute and focus on Lucifer. His first interaction with Sam is in the form of his dead girlfriend. His obsession with his vessel is so fucked up, as if he knows Sam inside out, like he already has crawled under his skin. One look at Lucifer will tell you he only has eyes on the prize: The Great Sam Winchester. That's what made this season great!

Season 6: This is where it subtly starts to go downhill. While the Soulless Sam storyline holds interest, the whole find the purgatory feels like a side quest i'd be happy to skip because the prize is not our boys' journey. Frankly, I don't care a damn about the war between Heaven and Hell

Season 7: Probably in the top 5 of my least favourite seasons. Leviathans were lame with their world domination plan by buying real estate and their leader Dick Roman sucked. It seemed like a USA problem than Sam and Dean problem. The worst of it all? Borax kills them?! Say what?! Wut?! The oldest creatures with a weakness of cleaning agent?! What's next? Shedim are scared of hyaluronic acid? Let's squirt them with moisturizer!

Season 8: This was one of those seasons without a proper antagonist. And yes, the angel/demon tablet fiasco. Nothing against advance placement student Kevin but I didn't enjoy the prophet storyline. It would have been interesting if they made it personal to the boys. I loved the Trial Sam storyline and what would have made it better would be if instead of Kevin if Sam could translate the tablet after spending all those years in Hell, you know?

Season 9: Though Gadreel wasn't the main antagonist, his possession of Sam was good. I would have loved it if they extended the part when he doesn't get out of Sam, made it personal, something like Meg!Sam situation. On the other hand, I was happy with Metatron. He was sneaky, cruel and power hungry and it was personal after he got Kevin killed.

Season 10: Somebody jog my memory of what Season 10 was supposed to be other than Demon!Dean and Mark of Cain. I have already made a post on how Demon!Dean was not utilised to a full potential and i stand by it. And that's all I have to say about this season.

Season 11: Darkness and her personal connection to Dean. Now, see the idea sounded good in theory. But sadly, they never exploited this personal connection. It could have played so well but no, they made it about God and his sister. This season also provided a gateway to bring back Lucifer but...

Season 12: it brings us to the season I hate the most. We got Lucifer back but he was no longer obsessed with Sam? (Yawning!) We got BMoL but oh god they were nothing more than a bunch of snobs in suits or as Sam rightly said "accents in a pansuits". Like seriously, what could they do to him? Nothing, that's what. Then whole Lucifer's son plot was so weak, it makes the entire season difficult to watch.

Season 13: things get very blurry for me from this season onward, so bear with me if I don't get everything right. Probably second on the list of SPN seasons i hate. This is the AU plot right? It was interesting when they mentioned Michael lived in AU but oh god they should have made Michael obsessed with Dean. Stalking him, torturing Sam to get the yes. But nope, none of that.

Season 14: we get Michael!Dean but see it's missing that personal grudge. It feels like a random possession. They could have played this so well, perhaps given us the OG Lucifer vs Michael battle.

Season 15: God? The villain? Again one of those plots that sound amazing in theory but the success lies in the execution. At least, they made it personal so that was really great. What I don't like about this season is the finale. And no, I don't mean the whole who dies, who lives. Or the rebar. Or the safe life with blurry wife. I mean the epic showdown between God and the Winchester that we all were expecting. That storytelling was missing. I don't want punches, I want a freaking battle!

Simply saying, what do you think makes Joker or Moriarty or Lord Voldemort a good villain? It's not just their power. It's their obsession with the protagonist. You take them out, that's the end of it. (I'm looking at you, Sherlock, BBC show)

In conclusion, when the show stopped making the battles personal to the brother, stopped writing the hero's journey, skipped the storytelling element and wrote villain that weren't quite as obsessed with the brothers, that's when it started falling apart.

[yeonmuse]

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ Curtain Call ·˚ ༘

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x lee heeseung ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷

authors notes This is a follow up to Heeseungs side story in Can You Hear My Heart. It takes place directly after the final chapter of Jungwons Mini Series. This is not a Hee X Reader series, but if youd like to replace the characters name with your own feel free to. This is part of admins University series

IN WHICH 𖤓 Heeseung has a thing for the theaters golden girl, he’s been crushing on her for months. He’s got it so bad for her that he somehow lets Jake talk him into attending auditions just to get closer to her.

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Everyones invited

Heeseung meant what he said when he tweeted that he’d be going to that party, though the party itself was quite exclusive he along with his friends had already scored secure invites. Him having been friends with the boyfriend of the party host, besides since nicholas had cancelled his party, what better way to spend their time then at a party where he could finally see her outside of just practice or they’re occasional bump ins on campus.

He along with everyone else from the operationXO group chat would be attending, everyones invited, though if only they knew tonight was about to take a turn for the worst.

As they all arrived the house had already been completely packed, his first time at a penthouse suite yet all he cared about was finding her, his priorities sure did change. As he spots the pink fuzz of her hoodie which he had seen in the photos she had taken, he takes a few steps forward only to stop dead in his tracks as his eyes fall upon her smiling and laughing with two other girls, and one girl he knew all too well, Rena.

Sakoia must have sensed his presence because he had been preparing to turn himself around and walk away before he could be seen. She spotted him standing there.

“Heeseung?” He curses under his breath before looking up at her rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Koia, didn’t think I’d see you here. You didn’t strike me as the party type.” He was lying through his teeth, he had seen her posts enough by now to know when it came to her friends she was out often.

“Guess there’s a lot you’ve got to learn about me, Lee Heeseung.” She laughs and jerks her head into the direction of each of her friends as she introduces him to them.

“Ladies this is Heeseung, Heeseung this is Yuan, Nezza and Yuan's friend Rena.” No one else had seemed to notice but by the time Sakoia had introduced Rena, she had already been staring at him. This was painfully awkward and awfully troubling for him, the woman he was once in love with, the one that broke his heart, standing right across from the girl he had been trying to pursue for the last 5 months.

“Nice to meet you all.” He tried his best to play it cool, act as if he didn’t remember her, but she was well aware that he remembered, and he also knew very well from the way he looked at her alone, that he had a thing for Sakoia, because the same way he looked at Sakoia was how he once looked at her.

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight? Are the girls and the others here too?”

“Yeah we all came, Wonbin gave us an invite since Nicholas had to cancel his party. Congratulations on your release by the way, Nezza.” Truth be told he didn’t know a lot about nezza since the two had only met a handful of times, on the other hand he had known wonbin for years, the two of them having lived across from one another for years in their high school and middle school days.

“Thanks Hee, he’s upstairs probably playing pool in the foyer with some of the guests.”

“Sounds like I should be joining them, but I’ll catch you a little later?” He responds looking at Sakoia.

“Come find me later?” She responds with a smile on her face, he nods in response before disappearing into the crowd.

The moment Sakoia turned around she was met with amused faces.

“Lee Heeseung? You’re hanging out with him and his friends now?” Nezza was the first to mention the obvious elephant in the room, as long as she had known wonbin she had known about Heeseung, she had only met him and his friends a handful of times but it was enough times to know that they were a fun but chaotic bunch. As sweet as Heeseung was, she knew very well that he was the type to leave them, not love them, and it was obvious that his sights were set on her.

“I won’t say hanging out with his friends, I’ve only met them all once at his friend Jungwons Film event, other than that I only just met the girls but we’ve been hanging out occasionally.”

“All I got from this was that there are other women stealing my wife away.” Yuan complains and wraps her arms around Sakoia earning a laugh from sakoia and Nezza, while Rena just sat and observed.

“Just be careful with him, he’s not the type to talk to a woman just because he wants to be friends.”

“Nezz don’t read too much into it like you always do, we’re only friends, he’s a cast member now so I’m sure he just wants to get to know me better since we’re working together, it's only natural to do that right?”

“I don’t even know the guy, but the way he looked at you was not how a costar looks at their costar.”

“Yuan. Seriously you both are reading too much into it.”

Knowing that she had caught Heeseungs eye made her look at Sakoia in a different light. She scanned the girl from head to toe, she had to give it to Heeseung, he sure knew how to pick them, she was beautiful, stunning, but was she really his type?

While the girls remained in the kitchen chatting and gossiping about their life outside of campus, Heeseung joined the others upstairs, half out of his mind from the fact that now only the girl he currently had a thing for had been there, but so was Rena, of all places he could run into her, of all the people he could have seen here it was her.

“You look like you just saw a ghost” Wonbin chuckles as he leans over the pool table for his play.

“Maybe he ran into Sakoia.” Sunghoon teases, warning a slap on the arm from yn who had been sitting on jungwons lap.

“Oh I definitely saw her, she and her friends were gagging a nice conversation before I met them in the kitchen, a conversation with Rena.”

“Oh shit she's really here?” Sunghoon was sent into a fit of laughter that only made Heeseung roll his eyes in response.

“That bitch is actually here? Why ?” Sunoo absolutely hated her, there was no one in the group that hated her more than he had, not even Heeseung himself.

“Apparently she knows both of Koias friends and she was invited, Koia doesn’t seem to know her. I'm guessing they met for the first time today.”

“I saw the whole interaction on twitter, I just didn’t think she would actually be coming, that's insane.” Sunghoon chimes in as he takes his shot on the billiard table.

“Am I missing something? Who is this girl and why do we hate her exactly?” Yn had been the only one left out of the loop, for as long as the guys had known each other they all knew that she was someone that they didn’t speak of. There was a mutual hatred for the girl that each of them had had since senior year in high school.

“Shes Heeseungs Ex”

🔖 @sol3chu @butterflywonz @jwonistic @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @lillotus17 @dreeki @jiamini @st4rryst4r @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time @heesallure

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[secriden]

Ohh what an intriguing idea!! I actually really, really want this to be the case although I have my doubts if the show will allow Style to go that dark (mostly because, as I was recently reminded, this IS a comedy-romance and not like a dark-romance).

But all the same . . . I made a meta post a while back about how Style is being quite deliberately shown to be morally grey, and I think a deliciously dramatic conclusion of that character beat would be to have Style fully embrace the one thing Fadel probably thinks makes him the most unworthy of love.

Especially because I am firmly in the camp that Fadel, at least, thinks that murdering Bad Men is a necessary evil; that as exhausting and soul-crushing as the work is, it is part of his duty to Khun Mae and his obligation to his past self to ensure that no one else has the same experience that he and Bison did. But, equally, as I said in another meta post:

...Fadel is acutely aware [... of] what it implies about Fadel. Because being able to kill another human, coldly and clinically and without remorse, takes a certain type of person. [...] Because there's something about Fadel that twisted dark [...] that enables him to look a man in the eyes, smile politely, and pull the trigger.

Which is why, even in episode 6, with Fadel wholly excepting his own feelings for Style and (at least until the last few minutes) wholly believing in the genuineness of Style returning those feelings, he still can't bring himself to tell Style the truth.

And I just realised this was another parallel between ep 5 and ep 6: Fadel sees two different but related obstacles to his desire for Style to "accept me for who I am" -- Style has to be ready to embrace Fadel's darkness and Fadel has to be ready to take the risk and tell him.

(Or is this a translation issue that I'm reading too much into?? Please let me know!!)

Here's the thing, though, how can Style ever prove to Fadel that he truly accepts him? I don't think words will be enough, because Style has already given Fadel the exact words claims he wants, over and over again, and Fadel hasn't been able to believe him; and the broken trust of thinking Style is a snitch means that he probably won't be able to trust Style's words for a long, long time.

So I, personally, would loooove it if the way Style finally shows it is that he really does embrace all of Fadel is, if he winds up slotting right into place in this dysfunctional family made out of a murder brother duo and one former car thief and current semi-successful con man. Because there's a beautiful, if sick and twisted, poetry to Style setting out at the start of the series thinking he's about to have some fun and take an arrogant prick down a peg or two, only for him end up so emotionally entangled with Fadel that he willingly dives headfirst into the very darkness Fadel thinks he could never show Style.

Also on a meta level -- I actually think they COULD swing it as a comedic ending and have Fadel and Style riding off into the sunset Bonnie and Clyde style, but maybe with more... uh, altruistic motivations. 😂🤷🏻‍♀️

you know how style makes a confession in ep6:

but then it turns out fadel was already well aware of what style was confessing to:

and after the truth is out, style is also very stressed about fadel's reaction and whether he's gonna be angry or not:

but fadel isn't angry at all:

and now at the end of the episode we're left with fadel learning something about style...

but the thing is, style doesn't know what fadel now knows!! style still has a confession to make about how he knows that fadel kills people. and so i'm wondering if we'll ever get a parallel scene to the confession scene at the rock pub where style tells fadel "i know you're a hitman" and fadel tells style "i know that you know". and i wonder if when the time comes, the writers will flip it and have fadel be angry then or if the "why would i be mad?" from the rock pub is foreshadowing for how fadel will react when the time comes. that when fadel listens to style's confession about having been aware of the truth fadel won't be angry, because we know his reaction in the immediate aftermath of hearing the news wasn't actually anger:

and IF the scene at the rock pub really was foreshadowing that fadel's reaction is NOT gonna be anger when style finally opens up about how much he already knew, then well, there is more that we can learn from the conversation about the rock pub. because apart from "why would i be mad? i already knew that", fadel also says:

style was keeping the truth from fadel, a truth fadel was already aware of and when style finally confesses to the truth, fadel isn't mad, but there will still be a punishment, there will still be consequences. so that makes me wonder... what are the consequences gonna be for style knowing the truth about fadel's hitman identity? what is the punishment going to be?

at the rock pub, the punishment is:

style followed fadel into the heavy metal world even though he himself isn't a heavy metal fan and the consequences are that he has to put on make-up to blend in

and i wonder if style will follow fadel into the hitman world even though he himself isn't a hitman and i wonder if as a consequence style will end up killing someone

i'm still haunted by this pic that dunk posted on the last day of shooting:

(edit: @lavenderrlilac pointed out in the replies that the murder husband pic could be from the painball scenes, and while that is highly likely, it still doesn't cancel out the whole thing about "the punishment for keeping the truth is that you have to blend in into my world" 🫣🫣🫣)