#nothing fun in imaging staying with kids home

[hl-obsessed]

Whatever you do don’t imagine Harry babysitting Olive and Lucky while the Tomlinsons go out for the twins birthday 🫠😫🥰

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[archivingkal]

last updated: 24/03/2025

note: unless otherwise stated everything on this list is completed

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

THE WAY BACK BY @suhnshinehaos (SMAU)

fans reminisce on your relationship with seungcheol

THE LYRICS BY @seuonji (SMAU)

in which fans find out yn’s lyrics are about someone they know. not even her fellow members knew this but anyways, now their concern is, who’s the lyrics about?

YOON JEONGHAN

FAKE IT TILL YOU MAKE IT BY @bitterie-sweetie

Your Valentine’s date with Jeonghan is coming up and yet the only thing on your mind is how to break up with him. Of course breaking up with someone is difficult, but you’d argue that what’s more difficult is breaking up with someone you never even dated.

DAISIES BY @viastro

the best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart. 

JOSHUA HONG

STAY UP BY @/bitterie-sweetie

He calls you his favourite person, yet you have no idea he's hosting a party until you get the invite in the mail. Joshua Hong confuses the hell out of you and perhaps now is the time to finally figure him out.

WEN JUNHUI

1 PLUS 1 BY @/bitterie-sweetie

While looking for an outfit for the party, you can't help but notice all the couples' BOGO sales going on. What better way to get free stuff than to pretend you're dating your best friend?

WORTH IT BY @/xinganhao (SMAU)

junhui works on healing a heart he did not break. inspired by jun's 值得 (Worth It) cover.

KWON SOONYOUNG

LOVE HARD BY @/wondernus (SMAU)

kwon soonyoung loves too hard and falls in love too quickly, accidentally building a (very false!!!) fuckboy image that he can’t seem to get rid of. when his friends talk him out of proposing to a girl he went on 2 dates with, he finally realizes he has a big problem with love. signing up to appear on his university’s most popular youtube talk show to unload his baggage and fix his image? what could possibly go wrong?

TOO MUCH COMMUNICATION BY @/xinganhao (SMAU)

(svt x reverse tropes, soonyoung's miscommunication expansion)

JEON WONWOO

POSER BY @macapunoz (SMAU)

it's hard pretending to be good at video games when it's so obvious you have no skills. too bad the guy you're trying to impress is the only one who tells you you're trash at the game.

GAM3 BO1 BY @/horangboosadan (SMAU)

wonwoo tries his best to talk his noisy neighbor into being a little quieter. it just doesn't go exactly how he expected it.

LEE JIHOON

NOW PLAYING : ABOUT NOW BY @flickerchans (SMAU)

a global pandemic paired with months of lockdown; you're pretty sure you're going stir-crazy. when you come across a viral chat-app, you don't even hesitate to join it. thus begin the chaos of meeting 14 random strangers and how they become a bigger part of your life than you thought they would.

SMARTER, AND YOURS BY @vitaminkyeom

Jihoon, school's no. 1 (or no. 2), was nothing but a pain in the ass for you. Sure he was better than you in some subjects but so were you. The two of you were equally good enough for the first place so to increase the competition, he decided to suggest the most scandalous thing you had heard: the two of you tutor each other.

Or, in which, you were the rich kid with your family's dignity on the line and he was the poor kid with his family's sacrifices on the line.

LEE SEOKMIN

SET IT UP BY @/bitterie-sweetie

You have absolutely no idea how to get closer to your crush, but perhaps asking his best friend for some advice is the way to go.

CHAN, YOUR BROTHER'S HOT BY @mingkist (SMAU)

(it's honestly just a fun little smau but so sweet and cute - it's one of my favourite quick reads when I need a pick me up - who doesn't like best friend chan's older brother seokmin and falling in love through teasing chan)

TRIPLE-DOG DARE BY @eoieopda (18+ MDNI)

when you're left off the guest list to seokmin's parent's thirtieth anniversary party, you're content to keep your questions to yourself and stay home. seokmin, on the other hand, is not content. in fact, he pulls the one card he knows will always win.

READY, GET SET, GO GET IT, GO BY @chheolie

(i am so deeply in love with seokmin in this - read:always - and it's such a pleasant read about seokmin being a total fanboy and getting to live his true fanboy dreams)

HINT. HINT. HINT!!! BY @nerdycheol

(seokmin is supremely oblivious but cute all at the same time because of course he is - I adore him)

KIM MINGYU

BOYFRIEND PRIVILEGES BY @idyllic-ghost

The ten times Mingyu has shown off his "boyfriend privileges"

HARD CARRY BY @/studioeisa

your math major soulmate is the only reason you’re surviving college, but how long can you rely on him for help?

NOT FOR SALE BY @xinganhao (SMAU)

a four-part series featuring celebrity!mingyu and small business owner!reader

XU MINGHAO

HOW TO LOSE THE GIRL BY @nevernonline

minghao was feeling tired of shallow relationships. his friends, noticing his frustration, challenge him to pursue a girl and then push her away within ten days. intrigued by the idea, he reluctantly accepts the bet as a fun challenge.

BE MY MUSE BY @yyawnjun (SMAU)

how does it feel to be unexpectedly for one day the muse of your biggest crush since middle school? and what if it became harder than you thought ignoring those feelings?

BOO SEUNGKWAN

YOU SAY THE STUPIDEST (SWEETEST) THINGS BY @savventeen

you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession

MISSION POSSIBLE BY @thepixelelf

One of Mr Boo's students sees his brand new engagement ring.

HANSOL VERNON CHWE

FLEEING FEELINGS BY @diamonddaze01

so you might have told vernon you loved him while drunk – now all you have to do is avoid him. forever. 

EXPOSED BY @gamerwoo (SMAU)

“Have you discovered anything?” “Yup.” “Great! What is it?” “I love Vernon, sir lmao” (journalist reader, subject vernon - what chaos could possibly ensue?)

ON THE CLOCK BY @sailorsoons (FAKE DATING AU)

Modern problems call for modern solutions, including naming a random stranger in the book store as your boyfriend to avoid an embarrassing encounter with your ex. The problem? The stranger is Vernon and he’s not supposed to be a stranger at all - he’s your coworker, and now everyone at the office - including your ex - thinks you’re dating. 

CATCH YOU WHEN I CAN BY @/xinganhao (SMAU)

a five-part series charting vernon's relationship with you, an international rockstar. (this is where my love affair with kae started and I've not looked back since - great decision on my part)

LEE CHAN

ROCK WITH YOU BY @horangboosadan (SMAU)

after the release of your most recent drama, the world decides that you and your co-star/best friend would be the perfect couple. the influx of positive reactions are great for your career, his career, and the drama. however, it tears at you to lie to your fans and appear dishonest towards your boyfriend. being a k-pop idol, revealing your relationship can come with unforeseen consequences. how do you tackle the onslaught of people who want the inside scoop of you and your co-star, and your boyfriend in denial about his jealousy without compromising either relationship?

THE FIANCE BY @wondernus (SMAU)

a mysterious pink fishing vest. a fiancé who wakes up in the middle of nowhere. and an upcoming wedding on the line. there's only so much you can take before you let your perfect future crumble before your eyes.

PANG! BY @kkumawrites (SMAU)

You'd consider yourself a simple college student, a freshman who just wants to survive their first year - but things get complicated when you're suddenly falling for someone you definitely shouldn't be, especially since he has a girlfriend already.

THE WAY OF THE WORK HUSBAND BY @studioeisa

going back to work after the holidays sucks, but at least you've got your 'work husband' lee chan to get you through it.

OPERATION DISPATCH BY @/xinganhao (SMAU)

chan has been trying his hardest to get the two of you into dating rumors. it's not really working the way he wants it to.

OT13

SEVENTEEN MED BY @welcometomyoasis

When the previous director of Seventeen Medical Center retired, his grandson, Lee Jihoon, was promoted as his successor. Jihoon made many changes to the hospital, but the most important change of all? He hired 11 new medical staff members and 1 medical student, all of whom he knew from his days as a medical student. As these new changes occur, you bet chaos (and 13 different romance stories) ensue. 

YOU'RE THE MAN BY @princessleechan

After your university cut your soccer team to prioritize the men’s team, it’s natural you have a falling out with your then soccer-star-player boyfriend and impersonate your twin brother at the rival university to play on their men’s team. Wait, it’s not? Oh well

XINGANHAO MASTERLIST + STUDIOEISA MASTERLIST BY KAE

(literally everything on both of kae's masterlists are worth reading so i implore you to go do that - i've already mentioned a couple faves in the list above)

more to come...

[fushipurro]

All That I Wanna Hear

☆ Synopsis: It's halloween night in 2018 and while you're home enjoying a good horror movie to pass the time, you get a text from someone claiming to be your long deceased husband. Your current partner isn't all that thrilled once he finds out, but soon the night turns into more than ghosts and goblins.

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, f!reader, fluff/smut/angst all in one, breeding kink, creampie, praise kink, oral sex, established relationships, pet names, threesome, anal, foreplay, slight hurt/comfort, shameless smut, porn with plot, i meme a lot in this, toji and satoru bicker a LOT, this is NOT a tojigo fic just saying

☆ Word Count: 5.5k

unknown sender daddy long dick just landed in shibuya baby, where you at, mama?

you excuse me?

unknown sender shit doll, you didn't change your number, did ya? it's toji.

you that's a sick joke, asshole

you at first thought it was just some kids having fun. it's halloween, right? the time for pranking others even if the "joke" is downright cruel.

hell, even satoru was playing into it when you got a notification of 10 million yen being added to your bank account on top of at least 500 missed calls from the same man and more coming.

he's supposed to be out chaperoning some of his students for some halloween fun in shibuya. his group consisting of your two kids megumi and tsumiki along with a few others you've come to love like your own from their school.

you offered to come along with them to enjoy the festivities, but satoru insisted that you stayed home, all bundled up on the couch watching all your favorite movies and what not. a "well deserved break" he called it.

over the years he's done similar things ever since you first met him twelve years ago when life as you knew it completely shattered into a million pieces. instead of your husband coming home, you were greeted by a grim reaper clad in white hair and a school uniform.

before even attempting to respond to the flurry of notifications, yet another call from said reaper came blaring through with their face front and center. your own throat felt like it was closing in on you, desperate and grasping for air as every emotion fought to escape you. you picked up the phone, finally hitting that green button and instantly hearing the frantic voice of the man on the other end.

"you're home, right? stay where you are, i'm coming over right away."

"what's going on satoru? are the kids okay? what's with the money, the calls, the texts─"

"everyone's fine, just stay put! i'm almost there!"

your phone buzzed in your hand with a new message, a selfie image from the unknown sender with the caption "proof enough, sweetheart?"

sure enough, it was like looking at a ghost. a man with hair as dark as his surroundings, the piercing green eyes, the scar over his lip. not to mention the awkward angle the photo was taken at like he wasn't sure what he was doing or where to look when he took the photo. whatever phone he was using was nothing close to the old nokia he had in the past buried in your nightstand and it showed.

"...what the fuck?"

you could hear satoru asking, "what's wrong?" from the speaker of your device.

"there's no way, right? you're supposed to be dead??" you choked out, tears falling from your eyes onto the phone screen. this was a sick joke, right? there's no way your husband is alive after being dead for twelve long and grueling years, it's just not possible.

...right?

satoru burst through the front door to your home, "y/n!? where are you?!" he breezed to the living room hoping you were there, and sure enough you were.

he stood in the doorway panting, finally seeing your eyes lift to meet his with tears streaming down your face. "this is a prank, right? he's dead! i don't like this, it's not funny. . ."

he sped towards you, throwing your phone to the other end of the couch and pulling you in for a hug. there was no way he could lie to you, he saw it himself already while he was out with his students.

is it wrong for satoru to want to hide the fact that your dead husband somehow is now revived? 100%. he didn't like toji one bit especially not after almost losing his own life to him and surviving from the miracle of reverse cursed technique. he also hated how broken you became after toji died, because he killed him. he caused your pain. it was because of those actions that you were left alone to shoulder the weight of two kids in a cramped decrepit apartment you hoped to move out of someday soon at the time. satoru did not want to ever see that happen again to you after you finally allowed yourself to try and love again.

you aren't a sorcerer.

you aren't a killer.

you didn't deserve this.

toji kept a lot hidden from you about the jujutsu world and the many horrors in it, especially the acts he once committed. he changed for you as much as he could since the time he locked you down with a ring to the day he died. he forwent killing others and used his hands only to love and support life as best as he could.

he had no regrets over falling in love with you, but he also struggled to find his place in the world again. everything he believed he knew and did best centered around taking the lives of others and without that, he wasn't anything. but he had you, and the kids, and that gave him every reason to try.

when confronted about the impossible task of killing a girl being guarded by the one and only satoru gojo, he knew it wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world. toji also knew that he was the only one capable of doing it with the right methods and plenty of patience. the rewards he'd reap afterwards would be enough to coast through life in the way that you deserve and with functional appliances and hot water in the shower. even if it meant bloodying his hands one final time, it was always for your sake and yours alone.

satoru had no chance to even open his mouth before a deep voice familiar to both of you sounded from the front door he didn't bother to lock in his haste to get here. not that any lock or door could ever hope to stop the being that is toji fushiguro.

"daddy's home~, where's my angel at?"

"how the fuck did you find her?" he turned to face the man with a hostile glare.

toji scoffed, walking over to the couch, ignoring satoru in the process as he cupped your tear-stained chin to meet the smile always reserved for you.

"missed ya, sweetheart," he slowly admired all your features intently. twelve years is a long time and while you're still young, you're not immune to signs of aging. however, you can now say it's cute that you both carry the same small creases around your eyes. the idea of growing old with your soulmate and actually getting to is a miracle in and of itself.

seeing him once again like this made you sob mercilessly, if you could call whatever you were doing before that. the sheer force of many emotions overtakes your body. you're grasping his body and face praying your hands don't slip through like ghosts on TV. "toji, how are you alive? i buried you myself!"

"haven't a clue, but i couldn't care less about the reason. i'm back now and i'm not leaving you ever again."

he hooked his hands under your arms and pulled you up off the cushions and into a tight hug, one you've missed after the many years of sleepless nights in a bed far too big for one person.

sure, they were seldomly spent with satoru, more so as of late. he was there for you when no one else was or could be. you hated him at first, but you grew to understand everything that happened and he helped you learn to love again. you hated too that toji had done something so stupid that cost him everything, but you understand why and came to terms with it.

he shot a glare at satoru who was kneeling on the couch with his fists clenched and a sour expression. "you can go now, kid. my wife and i have some catching up to do."

"i'm not going anywhere." he hissed.

"i wasn't asking." toji growled in response. he leaned down to meet your lips, instantly making your body shiver. saliva coating your lips like gloss with a flavor that made long dormant senses come alive like flowers beneath a tundra.

it was like a dream, i mean, how else could your dead husband be kissing you again? yeah, cursed techniques can be crazy sometimes, given what you learned from satoru, but raising the dead? it was nigh impossible tampering with life in such a way.

there is no other way you could explain this. here before you is a man that looks like toji, sounds like toji, acts like toji, tastes like toji. everything about him is the toji you knew and you swear you can feel your soul humming for him like a human beacon.

one kiss wasn't enough. it never is with toji and you never used to complain about it. they start soft and supple and quickly turn into bites and feverish grabs, yearning for more. but the circumstances now are different than before. "t-toji, wait─"

"what's wrong, baby?" he interjected, "you know how much i missed ya?"

satoru shoved his hand in between the two of you, infinity protecting him from the possibility of toji's saliva getting on his perfect skin. "you've been dead for a long time, in case you forgot. people can move on with their lives."

"what are implying?" he narrowed his eyes at the man. "you been touching my wife in my absence?" toji got his answer when he saw your flustered gaze. "sweetheart, he did tell you how i died, right?"

"yes, but it's not like that, toji." you sighed, stepping away from the men and returning to your spot on the couch, resting your face to your palms. "satoru showed up out of the blue that day telling me exactly what happened. about everything, including the job you hid from me."

"yeah and she punched me too." satoru chimed in, making toji chuckle with pride.

"eventually, i forgave him, yes. it killed me that you went and died over some stupid pride. it's not like either of you are perfect people though, no one is, and i get that." your voice was cracking with grief and anger you haven't expressed since that day. "i just wish you would've talked to me instead of deciding for yourself what you thought was best. . ."

toji seated himself at your side, rubbing his hand on your back in an attempt to comfort you like he always used to. "i'm sorry, y/n. i never planned on dying that day and leaving you, i was stupid and i know it."

"i know... it was hard though- and satoru has been very kind in helping our family out after it all."

toji shot a look to the man keeping himself quiet to not disrupt the moment, but this time it wasn't one of anger. satoru returned his look with his own troubled expression.

"he took megumi and tsumiki in like they were his own kids, paid our debts, bought this house for us. he's even their teacher now, training and keeping them safe. oh you would be so proud of how they turned out, toji."

much to satoru's dismay, toji pulled you into his lap with your back to his chest. large hands resting on your stomach with his head in the crook of your neck delivering soft kisses to calm your relentless sobs of grief.

toji wouldn't say so right now, but he's the reason satoru came to you in the first place. he wasn't expecting much when asked what his final words were, but when regret washed over him over his choices, toji had one final hope to ensure you had the life you deserve.

"i'm home, sweetheart. m'not going anywhere ever again."

toji wasn't much of a jealous person. even after twelve years apart from you and another man filling the void, he only had himself to blame for leaving you and everyone else behind.

satoru on the other hand felt differently, but his jealousy wasn't about pride or broken promises. it was about you and sustaining your happiness.

the man you loved who got himself killed now walking back into your life by some blessing from above. the life of someone satoru has grown to love and care for. he never asked you for much in return, only that you'd give him a chance and you your own to love again beyond toji. at first it was merely about making things right for someone who didn't deserve the situation they were placed in, but it never stays like that. it always grows into something more. if you water and care for a plant, it will grow and bloom, as simple as that.

and just like with toji, it's never stops with one kiss. like a cactus waiting for a monsoon to drown it or the golden light of day to feed it. his soft kisses soon turned into bites, his breath fanning your neck behind your ears and his fingers kneading into the plush of your waist and working up to your chest.

"toji, w-what are you doing?" you blushed, squirming from not only the tongue striping your ear but the boner poking your back through the fabric.

"shh," he coos, "just lemme show you how much i missed ya, okay?"

"huh?" satoru groaned.

calloused hands began pushing back the hem of your shirt as he found his way in around your breasts.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"the fuck does it look like, brat?" toji hissed at the man. "gonna make love to my wife, right mama?" he said, moving his hand inside your shorts and over your mound, toying with the sticky fabric. a husky snicker filled your ears, "so wet for me already. can't wait to taste your pretty pussy again."

"fuck! toji~," you leaned into his touch, digging your nails into his thighs to balance yourself as he slithered his rough digit between your folds, gathering slick around his finger tip to work himself inside.

"so tight for me. fuck, i missed this. has he even been treating you properly?" he smirked at satoru.

the white haired man had enough sitting with on the sidelines, scooting in front of you blatantly ignoring the scowling husband.

"why don't we show him how i treat you, princess?"

oh how toji wanted to put him in his place, but then he thought about the fun you might have with both of your love interests filling you up. toji died, time passed, he gets it. but now, you have the chance to indulge yourself in something you never would've done before.

a mischievous grin tugged his scar upwards. he leaned back, propping his hips up to adjust himself and bouncing your body up onto his lap, back against his chest.

satoru took the invitation and closed the gap between you, muffling your moans with his tongue against yours while circling your chest with his hands.

you're toji's after all. your rings still nestled on your finger unmoving after all these years. what's the harm in some temporary enjoyment to celebrate his return?

from your mouth, satoru leaned down to tongue the buds on your chest after removing your top. toji took advantage of your now free opening to kiss you, slipping another finger inside your cunt and scissoring your walls open.

"you have the prettiest tits, princess. no competition, even from jackass back there." his voice humming against your nipple that sent shockwaves straight to your heart and other areas (read: pussy) that made your body flutter.

you were already in shambles, threatening to come apart. your whole body felt like it was on fire thanks to their onslaught of attention. toji's voice filled your ears, nibbling the lobe as he spoke, "you wanna cum, sweetheart? i can feel this pussy just begging for it."

you nodded your head as best you could, "y-yes fuck─ please." with a quick circle of his thumb to your pearl and a bite from satoru, your body unraveled turning your vision white. your body slunk further back against toji's as you settled from the high.

"that's my good girl." he praised, his voice like honey over your ears, "can't wait to feel you clenching around my dick again."

"please please daddy, i need you." you whined as he took his fingers out leaving you feeling void.

his deep laugh only made you shiver and perk up more, "so eager for me? always so good f'me, baby." he raised his fingers up to his mouth, admiring the clear dew before cleaning them off in his mouth. "best taste in the world right here."

satoru slid his head between your thighs, kissing your pearl and jolting your body in the process, "don't forget that i'm here, princess. lemme clean you up a bit."

"fuck, 'toru~," you mewled as he licked a straight stripe up your slit. his tongue savoring the taste before toji lifted your body up and placed you down on all fours on the cushions.

"uh uh, pretty boy," toji teased, "this pussy belonged to me first and will stay that way. but thanks for keeping it warm for me."

you heard toji unbuckling himself, cock springing free right up against your entrance making you squeal out in response. turning your head around, you could see the precum adorning the tip of his overwhelming size.

yup, definitely toji.

"why don't i fill up this mouth of yours then, beautiful?" satoru purred as he kneeled in front of you, freeing his own bulging length from his pants.

both of the men pushed their way into your holes at the same time, a guttural groan leaving you as you adjusted to toji's monstrous size. it worked in favor for satoru, the vibration making him throw his head back.

"shit─ almost like the day we first fucked." he flashed an arrogant smile to the man across from him, "the so-called 'strongest' falling short to a monkey like me?"

satoru returned toji's remark with a cocky look of his own, "so scary~, want me to hollow purple your ass again? that did the job last time."

so long as he wasn't distracted trying to throw hands, toji kept his pace was slow and sensual. savoring every moment he was connected to your body. his grip was sure to leave bruises later on your hips but you welcomed them proudly since it meant you had him again.

satoru had his hand at the back of your head, bobbing you evenly over his cock whispering, "you're so pretty, doin' so well for us."

the cock in your mouth was the first to show signs of his incoming release, now evident by his pace turning sloppy before ultimately releasing his seed as pure and white as his hair all over your tongue and throat.

he groaned deeply, cupping your cheek to admire his handiwork with soft eyes. "prettiest girl in the world."

your praise was interrupted by yet another challenge from behind, "look at that, he cums fast too." toji sneered. his eyes fell to the circle of cream glossing his own length.

"least i actually can." he shrugged in response, only taunting him further. "did you lose your touch in the afterlife, old man?"

"tsk." he clicked his tongue. with satoru out of your mouth, he flipped you so your back was against the cushions.

"toji!" you yelped in surprise.

"sorry sweetheart, but you know how i much i love seeing your pretty face when i fuck you full."

toji entered himself back into you, hips rutting at a faster more rough pace to chase his high. his breathing turned heavy with low grunts in between.

satoru leaned down, peppering kisses across your cock drunk face seeing stars. "hang in there, beautiful, you're doing so well."

with a few harsh thrusts, toji had shimmied himself as deep as he could inside. "want me to give you another baby? give megs and tsumi a new sibling?" you nodded furiously despite not being totally aware what he was even saying through the blood rush in your ears. "yeah? daddy can do that for you, my love. can't fucking wait to see you swollen again now that i'm home."

when you love someone as much as toji, almost anything they say sounds like a good idea when he says it so sweetly to you ten inches deep. you're even more willing to indulge in his antics now after all this time without him. you truly missed such moments, more than you know.

he hasn't even seen his kids yet, oh how shocked they're gonna be when they come home to the literal ghost in the house. inside your womb however was anything but ectoplasm from some spirit. thick ropes of cum shot out, burying you with warmth from the inside and out.

"thaaattt's it... fuck baby─milk me dry." he moaned pleasingly, leaning down to bite into your soft flesh as you screamed his name harmoniously until nothing else could sound.

after a pregnant pause, he finally pulled out, attempting to stuff his seed back inside you before satoru lifted you up onto your knees with your back close to his chest. "c'mere princess, you don't need that stuff in you." as he rubbed his length along your folds, he snaked his arms around your waist and chest to keep you up, leaning into your ear whispering, "only mine," as he smirked at toji's discontented face.

toji ignored him as he took your cheeks into his hand, kissing you oh so sweetly and full of love. you greedily kissed him back, a few tears falling from your eyes whether from satoru pushing up into you or toji's return to you, who knows. both, really. either way, you're beyond happy feeling your heart beating again like it last did twelve years ago. he wiped your tears with gentle kisses, "i love you, y/n, so fucking much."

he wasn't much with words of affirmation, especially in endearing ways. toji cared more about showing his love to you in small acts or teasing. but when your bodies are pressed together, be it through making love or holding each other to sleep, that's when you hear the words come straight from his heart and into yours.

"i love you─ahh too, j-jiji." you smiled blissfully, trying your best to get the words out as satoru's cock thrusted into your sweet spot over and over.

there were plenty of times satoru wanted to interject. as much as he disliked toji, this is the man you had chosen to love before and never stopped loving. despite his own feelings, your feelings are what matter most. that being said, when the moment's over, he's reminding you about the spot in your heart reserved for the honored one.

"if you want another baby, y/n, i'll give you one." he grinned, upping his pace. his balls made a splatter sound with each thrust thanks to all the cum and slick present. "i'm sure we can make the prettiest baby together."

"is that how it is? this is my wife we're talking about, pretty boy." he leaned forward to cup your cheek, trailing his fingers to the back of your head.

"is your memory falling short too, old man?" his voice becoming disheveled, "she's had several years without you to move on."

the hand twined within your hair urged you downwards. toji's hardened cock angry at the tip was begging for attention. before he could do anything, he turned your face up to meet his gaze.

"what's your surname, sweetheart?"

"fushiguro?" you responded, slightly puzzled given your headspace.

"not gojo, huh?" he lined his tip up against your lips, ever so softly saying "i'm glad," before impaling your parted mouth, thrusting deep into your throat. his face conveyed a victorious smile beamed right at satoru.

any attempt at moaning were muffled, or more accurately gagged. your voice straining with pleasure as you were being fucked in both ends. again. toji's girth was much harder to accommodate but all his gentle praises and cooing helped relax you. the burning in your jaw worth it just for this moment. it gave satoru some extra enjoyment on his end when every praise had you vice gripping his length.

satoru couldn't compete in raw size against toji. not to say that he's by any means below average, but toji's heavenly restriction keeps him above the already exemplary sizes. he does however have one secret technique only for his bloodline.

limitless.

simply activating his ability allows himself to essentially become a human vibrator. literally. through infinity, he can expand and retract the distance between your velvet walls and his shaft at any speed he desires. it does take some effort and obviously self-control, but this is a man with an endless pool of cursed energy.

domain expansion: infinite pleasure.

the two continued their race to cum, you had no choice but to be the first, followed closely behind by the other two. your body trembling at the mercy of their cocks pumping you full.

"fast enough for ya, gojo?" he scoffed, tilting your head up to his with a finger swiping prodding your lips, "open." you obliged, sticking your tongue out like a panting dog after swallowing his essence entirely. "good girl." he smiled.

you couldn't help but whine at the loss of satoru when he pulled out, but it finally gave you a chance to catch your breath. "can you guys stop bickering for one second. at this point, you two need to be the ones fucking like some good old hate sex."

the two men chuckled, "sorry sweetheart, but you're doing so well taking us." toji purred, rubbing his digits under your jaw like he was petting a cat.

"aww, don't tell me you're tired of us now?" satoru pouted. "toji's one of the few people that actually can put up a good fight with me and with you as our prize. . ." his voice trailed off as he pulled you away from the older man's grasp to kiss you. ". . .it only makes it more enjoyable."

"don't either of you get any bright ideas that leave me to grieve again, you hear me? i mean it."

toji hooked his arms under yours and pulled up onto his lap holding you at your waist with one hand and the other keeping your face in his neck. "i think we can agree to that, can't we, 'toru?"

"yeah, jiji," he replied mockingly while inching forward, "i think for the princess here, we can keep things neutral." his voice had a tone of mischief to it.

"what are you two doin─hey!" you yelped in surprise. toji had lifted you up onto his cock, sitting you down balls deep against your lips all the while satoru's tip rubbed between your ass.

"one more baby, i know you can do it." toji cooed with his voice just as full of shit as satoru's. "you want us to see eye to eye, don't you?" he smirked.

honestly... what the hell? why not?

your mind is so far gone with pleasure to care. all you want is to love and be loved by your two sacred treasures.

"god, fuck." you groaned as satoru worked his way in, agonizingly slow. toji kept himself still but the pressure of warming them both is downright insane. tears welled up which were quickly swiped away thanks to toji. he leaned forward, kissing you through it, humming into each other's mouths in ecstasy.

"ready, princess?" you nodded your head as best as you could with your shaky body.

"try and keep up if you can, pretty boy." you glared at toji with a hiss of disapproval. "i know i know, m'sorry. lemme put a sweeter face on you now, okay?"

toji moved his arms back under yours, this time hugging your chest to his in a tight bear grip as he rutted his hips into you. every time he pushed in, satoru pulled out. repeating as they set the pace while you raked lines down toji's back.

you were reduced to nothing but babbling nonsense, crying out jiji toru jiji toru and other incoherent swears. drool spilling from your mouth despite toji's best efforts to keep it occupied with his own. he eventually dropped his head to your shoulder, biting into marks he previously made. satoru pulled himself closer, opting to rest his head on the opposite side of toji and his arms coiled around your waist.

you were unable to hold out for long before coming undone but they didn't cease their own chase. despite their disheveled breaths and all the obscenities they growled, they continued on pumping. the rhythm they set soon fell apart and after a few harsh thrusts, the two pushed up deep inside you at the same moment washing you over in a second orgasm before the first even had a chance to settle.

"fuck... y'er so warm y/n. can't take it anymore, gotta cum sweetheart. take every last bit of us, you hear me? show us how good you are."

the best you could manage was a muffled "mphm" with haphazard nods as you clenched around them equally in force. the eruption of warm seed soon followed, coating your insides and spilling out with your arousal.

they finally pulled out after what felt like an eternity followed by the jungle juice of cum, slick, and sweat dripping further out from your body. you collapsed onto toji's sweat coated chest gasping for air. satoru couldn't help himself from doing the same onto your back.

"not bad, old man. i can see why she loves you so much."

"yeah?" a genuine smile crossed toji's face from his words, "you did fine yourself too, brat. may have to keep you around for her joy."

"you couldn't stop me even if you tried, i only take orders from our princess." he chuckled.

toji brushed his hand over your head, pushing strands behind your ears and admiring your beautiful fucked face.

"i am going to order you to get your ass off of us and go start a bath before she falls asleep for good."

"fine, fine." satoru groaned before pushing himself off the two of you, kissing you once before walking off to the bathroom.

"now then. . ." toji's eyes wandered to the empty slot on his finger. "did you bury me with my wedding band, love?"

with a groggy hum, you turned upwards to his face. "i thought about it but no, i still have it. i kept it with the intention of giving it to megumi someday if he ever wanted to get married to always keep you in our thoughts."

"guess he's gonna have to pick something else," he smiled. "death is one thing that will never separate us and even if it could, i would marry you again and again, as many times as it takes in every lifetime. we're bound to each other forever."

"jiji~," you sniffled. "i love you so much. welcome home... my sweet husband."

"i love you too, my precious wife." he kissed your crown, sighing peacefully before lifting you up into his arms. "time to get cleaned off before the kids get home, right?"

one perk to this nice house gifted to you is the master bathroom featuring a large enough tub perfect for the three of you to relax in. perfectly nestling you between your two loves as they took turns scrubbing and kissing every inch of you before bothering with themselves.

"i can't believe you tried to bribe me to not see my 'dead' husband, 'toru." you pouted.

he threw his hands up defensively, "hey you know we have history, princess. i didn't want to let you go that easily without a fight."

"well i'm not giving up either of you so you two better learn to get along and fast. i love you both too much."

"aww~, you're too cute, y/n. love you too."

toji barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "just don't forget your manners, she's first and foremost my wife." satoru rolled his eyes teasingly at the man before pulling you away from him into his arms.

after soaking for a good while, the three of you stepped out. satoru changed back into his clothes from earlier and as for toji, well you never could part with the majority of his favorites. each article still carrying trace amounts of his scent that bring you peace every time you're upset or need a reminder of him.

once dressed, you curled up once more on the couch to resume a movie from earlier, tucked in a blanket up in toji's arms with satoru close by.

the front door opened followed by a resounding "we're home!" followed by the footsteps of the whole group.

"hey mom, have you heard from goj─DAD?!" megumi had entered the living room first and immediately dropped his bag to the ground.

"megumi?" tsumiki followed in after, equally as shocked before the rest of the group arrived.

toji looked softly at megumi and tsumiki first, taking in how much they've grown with a smile and a stray tear glossing his eye.

"how are you even here?!" megumi said with an appalled expression.

toji shrugged, "beats me, guess even heaven couldn't keep me from seeing my family again in life." he smirked.

"welcome home, kids!" you smiled happily to the group, unable to move away from toji's lap to greet them better after the fucking you just went through. "come sit with us, tell us about your evening!"

megumi and tsumiki came over first, hugging toji again like they too needed to confirm it was truly him and not some apparition.

"so who are the rest of ya?" toji questioned, his eyes panning to the group that wandered over.

the pink haired boy spoke first, "i'm yuji itadori! megumi's boyfriend."

next was a chestnut haired girl, "nobara kugisaki, these guys' best friend."

lastly was a familiar name and face that earned a questionable hum from the older man when she approached, "maki zenin, nobara's girlfriend."

his eyes narrowed slightly, "zenin?"

"don't count her out just yet, gramps." satoru chimed in from the other side of the couch. "your cousin here is just like you, just not nearly as old."

"says the brat with white hair. i don't see any grays on my head just yet."

"well if your back isn't hurting then you can take over maki's training from now on. you're the best choice for her to learn from, her twin as well."

toji glanced her over, as if assessing her prowess, eventually giving a satisfactory nod. "sure, but don't think you'll pull me away from y/n that easily." he moved his mouth right up against your ear, "we've got twelve years of catching up to do, don't we?"

"oh toji," you laughed. "you'll have me every single day and night now. no more stupid missions for you."

"anything for you, sweetheart." he purred, pulling the blanket up over your tired form that clung to him tightly.

you did your best to try and stay awake to enjoy your time with everyone, but thanks to toji caressing your body softly, you fell deeply asleep. when the next morning arrived and you woke up with not only satoru at your side, but toji as well, you wept with pure hearted joy that none of this was a dream or a cruel prank. simply, the love of your life finally coming home.

home sweet home once again.

☆ Notes: the idea came to me when i was trying to sleep the other night and ended up making me stay up an extra hour giggling with all the ideas i was getting for it. i hope it's not been done before but either way i was so excited to write this, i had so much fun!! writing satoru more than usual was a bit tricky for me since i'm only used to toji brainrot, but we'll get there.

also if you wanna see a bad edit i made that inspired this whole thing, peep this link

[floatingaimlessly333]

NikPrice who are trying desperately to have date night but keep getting interrupted by their children asking questions through the ring camera

The worst part is that the questions start before the couple even leaves the house.

Nik is styling his hair and John is grabbing everything they need to head out when they both get the first ring notification of many to come.

Alex: I’m heading to Tesco, do you guys need anything?

John, over the speaker: No, we’re good, lad. Maybe ask your siblings.

Alex: Will do. Have fun on your date!

The next comes seconds before Nik pulls out of the driveway.

Gary: Did you buy any apple juice yesterday? Also, if there’s free bread at the restaurant, you should steal some.

John: Gary, we’re right behind you, you didn’t need to use the camera.

Gary: *looks at his dads in the car and then back at the camera, staring deeply into it*

John, sighing: Yes, there’s apple juice in the pantry. And we’ll try and bring home some breadsticks.

Gary: Okay! Bye, love you!! *runs back inside*

They manage to get seated at the restaurant before the next notification goes through.

Simon: Hey dads, can Johnny and I take Captain for a drive?

John is about to turn on the microphone and give a firm ‘absolutely not’ when Simon starts talking again.

Simon: I’m gonna take your silence as a ‘yes.’ Bye dads, see you later!

Before either man can react, he and Captain are sprinting off the porch and hopping into Johnny’s waiting car.

Nik, chuckling: When did that boy get so bold?

John, exasperated: I’m entirely blaming this behavior on you. You’ve always had a penchant for giving me headaches.

Nik just laughs louder.

After that, a new alert pops up consistently every 10 to 15 minutes. And everytime it’s something that very easily could have been said over text.

Gaz asking if a few of his football mates could come over to play video games.

Farah and Valeria arguing over which movie to should watch and trying to get another opinion.

Gary trying to convince them that he should be able to have more pet cockroaches.

Alex asking if his running leg would look more impressive to his crush (even though it’s really not meant for regular walking).

The fathers look at each video message with fond but very tired sighs. Their next date is definitely going to be a ‘no phones’ affair.

Their phones ding once again as they’re handed the check. It’s Simon, and he’s holding Captain up to the camera like the massive dog weighs nothing.

Simon: Captain wants ice cream. But, he’s a dog, and therefore has no money, so…

John doesn’t even answer, he just sends Si £20.

Si stands at the doorbell until he gets the notification that the money went through.

Simon: Thanks dad! Love you!! *he runs back to the car*

After that, all is quiet. And that makes both men very suspicious. When they get home, the house is still and quiet. Which is incredibly suspicious.

Worried that their children have someone managed to murder each other in the hour and a half that they were gone, they approach the house with caution. John is tense when they reach the door, and it almost feels like he’s back in his military days again, about to breach an enemy’s safe house.

He unlocks the door and lets it slowly swing open. Once he catches sight of the living room, he’s almost brought to tears.

The two large living room couches have been pushed together and piled high with blankets and pillows. The coffee table holds their favorite ice creams and wine, and the tv is cued up with a movie they’ve been meaning to watch for ages.

Nik turns to John with tears in his own eyes, but is cut off by the ring camera.

The image that greets them is all of their kids standing out on the porch.

Alex: We know we kept bothering you guys during dinner, so we thought we’d make dessert a little more peaceful.

Farah: Si, Gary, and Gaz are staying at Johnny’s. Alex is coming with me to Valeria’s. Enjoy your night. We love you.

A chorus of ‘love yous’ can be heard and then they head off their separate ways.

Nik, wrapping his arm around John: Those sneaky little shits. They must have used the back door.

John, giving Nik a kiss on the cheek: Maybe we should get a camera for out there too. The first one turned out to be a pretty good purchase.

(I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THE LAST COUPLE WEEKS HAVE BEEN STRESSFUL 😭😭😭)(BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!)

[kingkaisen]

FIVE HUSBANDS

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 || 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐄 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗

♡ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: eren, armin, connie, jean, levi, & reiner x celebrity reader

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Following Connie’s murderous attack on two of your ex lovers, one of them fights to stay alive, but the other person tragically died. Your world has turned into nothing but a mess of rumors, sadness, and fear, but there is hope — and hope comes in the form of your remaining lovers who haven’t yet given up on you. But, in the end, your heart will forever belong to your one true love.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY || MINORS DNI || DARK CONTENT — fem reader, modern/celebrity au, brief sex mention, heavy angst, marriage, divorce, cheating, mentions of violence & blood, gun mentions, miscarriage, mentions of false imprisonment, toxic relationship, manipulation, stalking, murder talk, suicide consideration, illness, hospitalization, & major character death. Some of the warnings listed here don’t necessarily apply to this part, but the series as a whole.

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 23k

♡ — 𝐀/𝐍: Hi everyone! Welcome to part 8, or rather, part 1 of the finale. Shoutout to @spicerackofblorbos for helping me plot this! I can’t believe this series is coming to an end. Please let me know what you think in the comments or in my inbox! There’s one more part after this.

— YEARS AGO - NEW YORK CITY —

“Mom? We’re back.” The front door — old with worn-out creases along its faded white wood — creaked when you opened it. 

If your mother couldn’t hear your voice as you greeted her upon returning to your apartment, then the sound of the raggedy front door announced your presence for you.

“Hey bird,” your mother’s comforting nickname, derived of the word songbird, made you smile. It always warmed you up, just like her cooking did as well. Even with a tight budget, her meals were always exceptional. 

Expensive ingredients grown and processed in beautiful foreign countries couldn’t compare to meals that were made with the love of a mother, who stood over a hot stove, preparing recipes that had been passed down from one generation to the next.

Perhaps, the thought of food was on your mind thanks to the tantalizing aroma of stew simmering in the kitchen a short distance away. A few steps away from the front door usually landed you right in front of the stove — the outdated apartment was rather cramped.

It too had been around for generations and generations.

Stepping to the side, you let Armin Arlert enter your home before shutting the squeaky door behind him.

“Armin’s here,” you called out, but truth be told, you didn’t need to. Armin was always here. He was practically family.

Together, you both made the short stride into the living room, where your mother was sitting on the couch, watching television. It wasn’t the nicest or most modern T.V. set in the world, but even so, Armin’s blue eyes were instantly glued to the impressive screen consisting of moving images. He didn’t have a T.V., and all of the other fifteen-year-old kids his age made it their duty to make fun of him for it.

“Hi miss L/N,” Armin greeted your mother, a soft smile gracing his face, his eyes darting between her and the television.

“Come on and have a seat.” Your mother nodded to the empty spot on the sofa next to her. Her hands were steadily knitting what appeared to be a blue sweater.

Armin politely sat down beside her. 

You sat on the floor as there wasn’t enough room on the tiny, dark grey sofa — your mother despised the depressing color; she dreamed of having a cushiony beige couch with lots of decorative pillows. 

You leaned your head against Armin’s knee, feeling the cool fabric of his worn-out blue jeans against the side of your head. Unbeknownst to you both, your mother saw the gentle display of affection, and she smiled. 

The sight of her daughter slowly falling in love — even if neither you nor Armin realized it yet — warmed her heart. 

“We can switch if you want to sit on the couch,” Armin offered.

“I’m fine. I like the floor.”

Armin ruffled your hair a bit. “Okay,” he said.

Turning his attention toward your mother, who glanced between the small and heavy T.V. and her knitting project, glasses hanging around the tip of her nose, he asked, “What are you watching?”

“The news,” placing both of her knitting needles in one hand, she grabbed the remote sitting on the arm of the sofa next to her and turned the volume up three notches. 

“I know you teens don’t watch the news nowadays, but you both should look at this, now. A kid in L.A. around your age just got arrested for playin’ too rough.”

“Huh?” You wrinkled your nose. “What does that even mean?”

“He was hangin’ out with his friends and ended up pushin’ one of them down a hill. Poor baby got hit by a speedin’ car. Now the boy who did it is gonna go to prison.” 

As you looked at the television screen, the image of a mugshot appeared. It was a teenage boy with sickly pale skin — probably stress-related, you figured — and a shaved head, his hazel eyes shining with tears.

“This story made national news because your generation needs to learn to be more careful. You two are always hangin’ out outside, so just be safe, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” you and Armin replied in unison.

Several minutes of news-watching passed on by. Your stomach started to rumble, hunger greeting you like an unwelcomed, familiar friend. 

But if you were hungry, then Armin must have been starving. 

Unlike you, he didn’t have breakfast that morning, or dinner the night before. Though the servings were small, it was better than surviving off of small pieces of bread and water like he was forced to do.

Turning around, you glanced back at him. He was fidgeting with his thumbs. 

The sweet smell of food traveling from the kitchen to underneath his nostrils certainly didn’t help the hunger pain.

While he knew your mother would offer him a warm plate, as she always did, he didn’t want to let on just how starved he was. He was too polite to show any indication that he was hungry.

But you recognized the signs. He was your best friend, after all. 

And you knew what to do.

“Mom? Is the food ready? I’m hungry.”

“Hm?” She mumbled, distracted by the news, which displayed the teary-eyed teenage boy in court, handcuffed like a criminal. “Oh, yes. Everything’s ready. You two go wash your hands and get somethin’ to eat. Make sure you turn the stove off.”

After making your filling, steaming bowls of stew, you and Armin decided to eat your food outdoors, sitting on the curb in front of your apartment.

The sky was a darkening shade of blue, orange streetlights brightening up the road — which meant you couldn’t go beyond the curb.

Mom’s rules.

Insects chirped in the distance in the high, green grass nearby. Fireflies started to dance.

“I hate when my mom watches that depressing stuff,” you said, scooping up a soft carrot with your spoon and taking a bite. “She always turns it into life lessons too. Like, I’m not gonna push you in front of a car or whatever. I’m not that stupid.”

“She just wants you to be safe,” Armin paused to swallow his food. “I think it’s kinda sweet.”

“You’re just saying that because she’s feeding you,” you teased, elbowing him gently. “She’s your best friend right now.”

“Got that right.”

For a few moments, you and Armin both ate in a comforting silence.

“Do you have to leave soon?” With a frown, you glanced up at him. “Mom said she wants to cut your hair.”

“Guess it’s getting pretty long, huh?” Armin touched his blonde strands. “I can’t stay though. Work.”

“Really? But what about school in the morning? Can you even work this late? Aren’t child labor laws a thing?”

“Shush, it’s fine.” Armin stood up, and you did the same. “I’m dropping out of school once I turn sixteen next year, so I guess it doesn’t matter if I show up tomorrow tired.”

“Okay,” you mumbled with a little frown. “I’ll take your bowl back inside then since you can’t stay or whatever.”

“Thanks,” Armin smiled kindly. “And tell your mom I said thanks for the meal.”

Suddenly, the fifteen-year-old reached down and plucked a yellow weed out of the ground. 

“Dandelion,” he said. With a playful grin, he stuck it behind your ear. 

“Get that dirty piece of grass out of my hair,” you grimaced, but even so, you didn’t dare remove it. 

“Absolutely not,” his grin softened. Despite his smile, his blue eyes glistened with sadness. He despised leaving your side, even for a work shift. “Well, I bid you an adieu or whatever.”

Your childhood friend started to walk away. 

“That’s the worst French I’ve ever heard, but bye!” You shouted with a small laugh.

However, your amusement quickly died out. 

A stomachache from hunger — which was now gone, thankfully — was similar to the twisting pains of watching your friend walk away, even with the promise of seeing them again. 

As if sensing your sudden sadness, Armin briefly turned around. The orange streetlights illuminated his kind face. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled back. “See you later. So long, or whatever.”

With a soft smile, Armin started to walk off again.

The boy you unknowingly loved was gone.

— PRESENT DAY - LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA — 

“Good morning everyone, and thank you for watching KTLA news. I am Daniella Robinson, reporting live from outside former CS Records manager Levi Ackerman’s house here in Los Angeles, California. Yesterday evening, police dispatchers received a disturbing phone call from singer and actress F/N L/N, in which she claimed that Eldian Devils band member, Eren Yeager, had been shot. Along with him, a waiter named Armin Arlert was shot as well. Both men were ex-husbands of Y/N, and after being questioned by the police, Y/N claimed that they were apparently shot by her current husband and owner of CS Records, Connie Springer.” 

The breeze blew through the young woman’s black hair. She stared into the camera lens in front of her, clenching her microphone.

“We have not been able to get our hands on the original phone call made by F/N L/N yet, nor reach out to her for a statement, but images of her leaving the police station with Levi Ackerman are currently being posted all over the internet and social media platforms, with some headlining articles claiming that the shocked woman, soaked in blood, looked like Carrie White, a fictional character from a horror novel created by Stephen King. As cruel as those comments are, they pale in comparison to the onslaught of articles, videos, and tweets circulating social media accusing Y/N of shooting the two men herself, or at the very least, conspired with Connie Springer to do so. 

While the police haven’t been able to locate Springer yet, we do know that Y/N is inside Levi Ackerman’s house, whom she has been accused of having an affair with in the past while married to Reiner Braun, an actor. When it comes to the fate of the two victims, Eren Yeager pulled through a very complicated and fatal surgery and is currently in a coma. However, Armin Arlert succumbed to his injuries, and has died around two A.M. this morning. Stay tuned for further updates as they become available to us.”

—

Annie Leonhart had warm hands.

Levi’s living room was cold. The air conditioning blasting throughout his mansion made sure of it. But Annie’s fingertips graced your skin before she wrapped her hand around yours snugly, and she was warm. You were grateful. 

Her sudden, comforting touch reminded you to breathe. To stay in the present.

The mechanical click of your eyelids cleared your blurry vision, which granted you the ability to see her hand holding yours, intertwined fingers resting on your thigh — your legs covered by a pair of black sweatpants you hadn’t seen in a long time. 

It must have been an article of clothing you accidentally left behind after moving out of Levi’s home a long time ago. 

Temporarily living with Levi after Eren got arrested for physically assaulting Jean was, perhaps, the last time a piece of ordinary fabric touched your skin. Nothing fancy. Nothing worth hundreds or thousands of dollars. 

If only you could go back in time.

If only you could have fixed everything back then. 

If only your problems were still revolved around being a heartbreaker, and not witnessing murder.

No.

That wasn’t good enough.

If only you and Armin had stayed in New York City together, spent your days working in that little bakery and sitting on the rooftop of that abandoned building, staring at the beautiful stars above.

But now, you would never get a chance to look up at the stars with him ever again. 

You would never get another chance to stare into his gorgeous eyes, listen to his soft voice, or hug his warm body — his subtle scent of cinnamon rolls washing over you.

He was gone.

He transitioned from this world and into the afterlife not surrounded by loved ones as an old man in a cozy bed as he once dreamed, but surrounded by unknown surgeons — cold, terrified, and in an unspeakable amount of pain. 

Nothing could bring him back. 

Nothing could . . .

“Hey,” Annie softly called out. 

The blonde-haired woman leaned forward a bit. You could see her concerned gaze within your peripheral vision. You didn’t have the energy to turn your head and face her. 

“Your breathing was . . .” Annie paused, trying to search for the right word. “Just try to breathe.”

Breathe.

What a difficult activity that had turned out to be.

Your panic attacks were something Levi had told Annie to watch out for. He gave her quite a few directions as he gathered his belongings, getting ready to leave his home.

“I’m going to pick up Carla and Grisha from the airport and take them to the hospital,” Levi had said earlier. “I have to keep Eren’s parents safe. What a fucked up world we live in.”

Eren forced his family to leave Los Angeles to get away from Connie. They dreaded the thought of living far away from their son, especially when their boy forced them away for their safety, and yet, was staying behind. His poor mother often stayed awake at night, sitting by her cell phone and staring at the television, hoping that her famous, endangered son would survive another night in Hollywood — hell on earth, as she liked to call it. 

Her worst fear had come true.

Her beloved son had been shot and could die at any moment — while she was packing her bags, boarding the private jet with her distraught husband, or during the long flight from Maine to California.

“I’m about to leave,” Levi stepped into the living room after grabbing his car keys. “Come here, Annie.”

Annie pushed herself off of the couch, and the two of them stepped into the foyer.

“Listen to me,” Levi frowned. “I’m not worried about the paparazzi outside. They know better than to step on my property, so just let them take their shitty pictures from across the street. I don’t know where Connie is, but if he’s watching any news channel, then he knows Y/N’s here. He could show up. If that happens, there’s a gun in the storage closet. There are cameras outside as well, so you can see whoever’s walking around my house using the tablet in the living room. Keep the doors and windows locked.”

“Okay,” Annie nodded. “Anything else?”

“Reiner’s on his way,” Levi’s eyes darted away from Annie’s for a moment. “I don’t know if I can trust him, but he’s been calling my phone all morning. He was going to show up here anyway, so I’m hoping he can help you watch and protect her, but . . . keep an eye on him too, alright?”

“Wait, if you don’t trust him, then why would you let him come over-”

“I don’t trust anyone. Not entirely. But in this shitty situation, I don’t have much of a choice. You and him are my best bets. Mainly just you, but I don’t like the idea of you being here by yourself either. I trust him enough, okay? But still . . . watch him. You can’t ever be too goddamn cautious.” Levi unlocked one of the double doors. “I’ll call if anything happens.”

“Okay,” Annie said.

When Levi opened his front door, bright lights from invasive cameras flashed repeatedly. News reporters and paparazzi screamed his name. He shut the door behind him, which muffled the chaos outside. Annie locked it with a sigh, grateful for the silence.

The cold surface of the front door soothed her worries a little when she leaned her head against it.

She wasn’t used to dealing with stuff like this. 

When it came to protecting others as a women’s rights advocate, her work usually revolved around starting protests. Creating petitions. Hosting fundraisers. Telling misogynistic men to go to hell. 

As a stunt double, she’d fill in for celebrities during action films, and she had incredible skill when it came to parkour and martial arts, but beyond that, she wasn’t involved in celebrity scandals or murder tales happening in real life. 

Along with that, she barely knew you. 

You both spent time together, going out to dinner, grabbing drinks, or playing cards at Levi’s house, but it was never alone. It was always with the others: Mikasa, Sasha, Reiner, and occasionally, Levi. 

She didn’t mind watching over you. It was the right thing to do. 

But . . . if Connie came through Levi’s door with a weapon, would she put her life on the line for yours? 

Her life?

Annie touched the lock on the door. 

Who could blame her for wanting to leave? For not wanting to be your security guard and risk her own life?

She started to unlock the door, started to reach for her phone to call Levi and tell him that she couldn’t do it — but she didn’t.

She took her hand off of the lock.

If she left you alone and something happened, especially at the hands of your crazy, murderous husband, she would never forgive herself for leaving a defenseless woman behind with nothing but a gun you didn’t know how to fire.

Annie sighed once again. Taking the hair-grip off of her wrist, she pulled her hair into a low ponytail.

How likely was it for Connie to show up, anyway? With the cops looking for him and several potential witnesses with cameras and microphones outside, it was highly unlikely. 

Not to mention, it was Levi Ackerman’s house.

And Levi was truly a dangerous man.

“You can leave.”

Annie was startled by the sound of your voice, but the calm woman kept her composure. 

Slowly, you walked into the foyer, your hands in the pockets of your sweatpants. You coughed dryly. While you weren’t actively contagious or dying, you were still under the weather — someone who should be in bed, resting and recovering.

“I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be fine,” You gave Annie as much of a smile as you could muster, which amounted to a half-hearted grin. 

One that — despite barely knowing you — she could see right through.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Annie said, stepping toward you and away from the door. “Come on, you should be in bed. Levi didn’t wash those sheets for nothing.”

Pressing a warm, comforting hand against your back, Annie started to guide you in the direction of the guest room, but before you both could make it far, frantic knocking occurred at the front door.

Based on the way the noise from outside picked up, along with the flickering white camera lights peeking through the curtained windows, Annie gathered that it must have been Reiner.

Even so, she ran to grab the tablet off of the living room coffee table first, and when she opened the camera footage, she saw a worried, kind-looking man impatiently waiting for the door to open, trying his hardest to avoid the cameras snapping rapidly from a distance.

Annie opened the door and practically pulled the man inside by his forest green jacket before shutting the door back and locking it. 

“Reiner,” you called out, and those gentle eyes of his locked with yours.

“Oh my god,” he sighed with relief. Blinking, a tear fell. 

Reiner walked over and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a comforting hug you so desperately needed.

The tall, gentle man rubbed your back soothingly, and you exhaled. Only then did you realize you were holding your breath.

“I couldn’t see you in the hospital,” Reiner leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “I tried, but Connie was in the lobby. Wasn’t sure you’d wanna see me anyway, but I had to see you now. I’m glad you’re safe. I’m sorry for your losses, Y/N. Both Armin and your baby.” 

“Reiner . . . you should leave Hollywood as quickly as you can.” 

“I’m not leaving without you-”

“Stop. Yes, you are.” Pulling away from him, you looked into his eyes with a glassy gaze. “Connie shot Eren and killed . . . Armin because of their affiliation with me. He’s gone fucking crazy and you need to leave. I need to find Jean and tell him to leave too, or not to come back if he’s already gone. I-I haven’t seen him lately. Levi should go as well. Everyone should, even Annie and Sasha and-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Annie interrupted, folding her arms across her chest. “Let's say we all move to Maine or Rhode Island, and for a while, we’re safe. Then what? We change our appearances and identities? Hide for the rest of our lives?”

“She’s right,” Reiner looked over at Annie, then stared back into your eyes. “Connie left you alive. Make him regret it.”

Several hours had passed.

Sitting at the breakfast nook in Levi’s kitchen, you couldn’t help but think about the good memory, a fleeting moment of happiness, that had occurred around this table, long ago. Drinking and playing cards with the others while Levi cooked steak a short distance away. 

Even he had managed to smile that day. 

Now, on this horrific day, Reiner was making homemade baked potato soup for dinner — his mother’s recipe. He knew how much you loved her cooking. A recipe for disaster, she called it, and meant it literally. 

“Whenever I was sick or feeling down, mom would make this for me,” Reiner said softly as he chopped up some potatoes. 

While Reiner cooked, Annie got up from her spot in the booth-like breakfast nook, turning around a bit as she opened the blinds, peeking out of the window.

“Everyone’s still out there,” she announced. “I think there are more reporters now, actually.” 

“My fault,” Reiner said, tossing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “The world knows I’m here now, too. Not to mention they know Levi left and will return. They probably plan to bombard him on his way in.”

You had no idea what time it was, but nighttime had arrived, and Levi hadn’t called. 

It was odd, to say the least.

“I hope Levi’s alright,” you mumbled. 

Folding your arms on the table, you rested your head on them as if to hide and avoid being seen.

“I’m sure he’s just busy. He said he’d call if something happens, so I’d say him not calling is a good thing.” Annie closed the blinds and sat back down. Reaching out, she touched your hand. “How are you feeling?”

‘I feel like Eren’s going to die and Levi’s next. Then Connie will pick us all off one by one because no one is taking me seriously when I say everyone should leave California. But I also don’t give a damn. I just want to die so I can see Armin again,’ you thought. 

“Fine,” you lied. “Just worried.”

Suddenly, the tablet — which Annie had brought into the kitchen, not wanting to be far away from it — dinged, alerting everyone of detected motion around Levi’s front door.

Someone was right outside.

The distant, invasive shouts coming from the reporters and paparazzi camping out on the street had increased in volume, along with the flickering lights, which shone through the blinds.

“Must be Levi,” Reiner grabbed the tablet off of the kitchen island to double-check, but as he did so, the person outside knocked on the door. 

Levi wouldn’t need to knock. 

He had a key.

“Who is it?” Furrowing your brows, you watched the man frown in confusion.

“It’s, uh . . . Jean,” Reiner faltered worriedly. “He looks terrible.”

Opening the front door yourself was an idiotic idea, one that resulted in blinding lights and overwhelming shouts of your name. You grabbed Jean’s wrist. He winced in pain.

Letting go wasn’t an option. With cameras both snapping pictures and recording live for the entire world to see, releasing Jean’s wrist would lead to speculation and rumors. 

Why did Y/N let go of his wrist so suddenly? Did Jean yank himself away from her? Were they secretly hooking up and she had forgotten that people were watching them, so Jean pulled himself away? Is wrist-grabbing a secret code? Why is Jean at Levi’s house to begin with? Are all of Y/N’s ex-partners in on something? Did they . . .

You had no choice but to pull Jean inside and shut the front door behind him.

If there was any doubt that you might have been inside Levi’s house before, well, you gave the world confirmation just now. 

Looking up at the tall man, you had opened your mouth to speak — to ask him what he was doing here. Where he had been. Why he flinched when you grabbed ahold of his wrist. But at the sight of him, your jaw simply hung open in pure horror. 

Eren’s sudden disappearance upon hearing about your hospital stay had abruptly ended the Eldian Devils tour, but Jean Kirstein hadn’t been by his side during the last few shows before then. Every promo picture and trending Twitter video showed Eren on stage rocking all by himself under the guise that Jean was “sick” and unable to perform. In reality, Connie’s Silent Men just weren’t careful during their routine beatings and had given him injuries that no amount of makeup could fix, so they kept him out of the spotlight. 

However, Jean’s whereabouts were unknown even after Eren ended the tour, and no one truly cared.

No one knew that they should have cared.

Slowly, your trembling hand covered your mouth. It was a subconscious act. A result of shock.

“Jean,” Reiner called out, stepping into the foyer. “What the hell happened to you? Where’ve you been?”

Jean could hear the man speaking, but his bloodshot eyes only stared into your sad ones, not bothering to look away. 

But your eyes did. 

You scanned his entire body — every bruise, every scar.

Much like Eren was when he visited you in the hospital, Jean was thinner too. Hollow cheeks right underneath his dark undereye circles. His long-sleeved, dark blue shirt was loose around his upper body. His black jeans were baggier. While certain visible parts of his pale body were black and blue with old bruises or bright red from fresh scars, it was nothing compared to his hands.

Jean cherished his hands more than anything. 

He cherished them more than any other body part. More than his fans. More than money. 

Anyone could say what they wanted about him, that he was a homewrecker, attention seeker, living in Eren’s shadow — it didn’t matter. As long as he was acknowledged as a musician.

Playing instruments and making music was what made Jean Kirstein Jean Kirstein. He needed to stroke the keys of his piano, write lyrics, or layer chords just as much as he needed to eat and breathe. Connie knew that. 

He knew that making music meant everything to his former best friend.

“Connie hurt you, didn’t he?” You cupped Jean’s injured, bandaged-wrapped hands with your own, eyeing his scratched fingers that were formerly twisted. Someone must have given him medical attention.

“Not directly,” Jean coughed dryly. He hadn’t spoken in a long time. “His men did. Per fucking usual.”

“What happened?” Your eyes ran across his ruined skin. “Tell me everything.”

You, Annie, and Jean were all sitting at the breakfast nook while Reiner continued to make his soup over the stove, ensuring that there was enough for Jean to have some as well, and Levi, once he returned.

Jean eyed the cup of water sitting on the table in front of him. The droplets of condensation slipped off of the cool glass and pooled around the circular bottom, spilling over onto the coaster. 

He wanted to drink the refreshing water you kindly made him, but with the state his hands were in, he was certain he’d drop it. And he didn’t want to ask for a straw. He didn’t want to ask anyone for anything.

No one had ever given a damn about him before, especially you. Not that he could have blamed you.

Jean spoke of the inhumane treatment that Connie had put him and Eren through during their last-minute tour. As he described the abuse — a look of anger, sadness, and disappointment on your face in the form of a clenched jaw, furrowed brows, and glassy eyes — it had confirmed one thing: you had no idea what was happening to him and Eren. And he was relieved. 

“I was living in his house . . . I married him . . . and I didn’t know that he was still treating you guys that way. I should’ve known. I don’t why I just assumed he’d stop.” Your hands started to tremble. “I’m so sorry, Jean.”

“What happened after you couldn’t perform anymore?” Annie asked plainly. “Where’d you go?”

“I was being punished,” Jean smiled sadly in disbelief. “Those assholes blew my pupil, so I couldn’t go on stage or be seen in public, and the company had lost a lot of money trying to make up for my absence — refunding people who bought meet-and-greet passes to see me — but it wasn’t my fault. But they locked me in the recording studio anyway and fucked up my hands so I . . . couldn’t play anything. Kept me locked in there for weeks until now.” 

You shuddered. 

“Jesus,” Reiner exhaustedly rubbed his eyes with his hand. His grip on the stirring spoon tightened. “That’s sick, Jean. I’m so sorry. We had no idea.” “How’d you get out? Did they let you go? Have you seen Connie today?”

Jean shook his head, answering your last question first. 

“I haven’t seen him. Uh . . . Levi found me. I guess he was the only one who noticed I was missing.” Jean’s eyes glistened with sadness. Being forgotten hurt more than his festering wounds.

“Anyway, he got me out of there, fixed up my hands, stuck me in a car with a driver, and told me to come here. He told me what happened too. I’m sorry for your loss, Y/N. Armin was a good person, far as I know. He deserved to live a long life.” 

Your eyes darted down to your lap. Your throat was dry — a lump had formed in it that was practically painful and felt as if it strained your neck. It wouldn’t go away. Right now, you needed the glass of water sitting on the table just as much as Jean did.

“Levi said he was going to the airport to get Carla, then to the hospital,” Annie blinked, her face emotionless as she spoke plainly. “You’re saying he also stopped at CS Records, got past Connie’s security, and freed you? That doesn’t seem right.”

“I agree.” Reiner pulled down several bowls from the cabinet across from the stove. His tone, however, wasn’t exactly accusatory but filled with curiosity. “How’d he know where to find you in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” Jean shrugged. “But think about it, big guy. Levi and Connie used to be pretty close. There was a time when CS Records was nothing more than the band, Connie, and Levi all working from a cheap rented-out studio. In a way, Connie owes a lot of his success to Levi, I guess.”

“So Levi pretty much knows how Connie thinks,” Annie said.

“Yeah. Got that right.”

Hot baked potato soup was poured into four white, glass bowls. Reiner served everyone. When he made his way over to Jean, the bowl clinked gently as he sat it down on the table in front of the injured man. Discreetly, he put a straw in Jean’s drink and moved the glass cup closer toward him.

Jean looked at him with his light-brown eyes, casting a grateful glance as a silent thank you.

Reiner gave him a nod. 

Jean watched as the blonde-haired man whispered something into your ear, and then motioned for Annie to grab her soup and follow him out of the kitchen.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Jean watched you move from one side of the breakfast nook and scoot around the booth until you were sitting right beside him.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you eat,” you grabbed his spoon, scooping up a bit of soup with a tiny potato chuck in it.

‘Oh, I get it,’ Jean thought. ‘Annie and Reiner must’ve left so I wouldn’t feel so embarrassed about being spoon-fed like a baby. This fucking sucks.’

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you said caringly as if reading his thoughts. “We all need a little extra help sometimes.”

When you raised the spoon to his mouth, Jean hesitated. 

“Come on,” your encouraging words were followed by you darting the spoon toward his lips a bit more. 

Finally, he took a bite.

“I understand how you feel,” You said, lowering the spoon back into the bowl of soup. “Levi had to help me bathe. Scrubbed me down because I couldn’t do it myself. Like I said, sometimes people just need a little more help.”

A tiny wave of relief washed over Jean. Your words helped.

Silently, you fed Jean another bite, then several more.

“Your own soup is gonna get cold,” Jean nodded in the direction of your steaming, awaiting bowl across the table. 

“There’s a microwave here,” you said bluntly. 

“Alright, smartass,” with a teasing tone, Jean smiled a bit. 

“Excuse me?” You said with both shock and playfulness. “Alright, fine. Since you wanna call me that . . .”

Your words trailed off into a curious silence that piqued Jean’s interest. Scooping up another spoonful of soup, you guided it towards Jean’s mouth. This time around, you decided to coo and sing at him.

“Here comes the airplane, open wide! You can do it!” 

“Y/N, I swear on my mother that I will bite your hand. I can’t fight you right now, but I’ll chew the hell out of your finger.”

Suddenly, you laughed. 

It was that big, beautiful laugh that no one had heard in what felt like a lifetime — the wholehearted chuckle that your nauseating media-training classes had driven out of you. 

The version of yourself that used to experience such joy had died a long time ago — suffocated to death by the pressure and weight of fame, torturous love, and neverending misery. 

To hear it again was a blessing. 

You didn’t know if your soul allowed for such boisterous laughter anymore. 

And for Jean, witnessing such a sight made him feel like he was falling in love all over again. 

The corners of his mouth twitched. He was heartbroken and joyous at the same time. He wanted to cry and laugh. 

The sound of your laughter had attracted Reiner, who stood in the archway of the kitchen, grinning. He was happy to hear your laugh again as well, even if his heart did sting a bit from jealousy.

After all, he wasn’t the one who caused it. 

“Sounds like someone’s cheered up a bit,” Reiner said softly. 

“Tell . . . tell Reiner what you said,” you huffed out, attempting to control your laughter as you gently tapped Jean’s arm. By now, your cheeks were hurting. It was a beautiful feeling.

“I think you’re the only person who would find that funny, Y/N.” Jean grinned, rolling his eyes playfully. Memories of you — the old you — laughing at the smallest, most insignificant things flashed in Jean’s mind. 

Witnessing the look of disgust and sadness on Eren’s face when he accidentally dipped his chicken finger in cocktail sauce instead of ketchup and ate it made you nearly do a spit-take with your water one day during your brief time touring with Eldian Devils long ago. 

Coming across a mediocre meme online had you clenching your stomach and finding the nearest person to show. 

You were just that sort of person. Or, at least, you used to be.

If human beings had true individual purposes and Jean’s was to make music, then yours was to laugh.

“Y/N, can we talk for a sec?”

Reiner’s sudden serious tone snapped Jean out of his pleasant thoughts. 

The last few huffs of laughter died out, your smile faded away, and you nodded. 

Scooting out of the booth, you followed Reiner — grabbing your soup and bringing it along with you.

From what you knew about Levi, he wouldn’t be too pleased with you eating such an easily spillable meal on his couch, but Reiner didn’t want to chat with you in the formal dining room. It would have been too odd, he figured.

“I know now isn’t the right time, but maybe when things are . . . better,” Reiner paused, “I was hoping we could go out for dinner and talk about everything.”

“By everything, do you mean us?” You sat the bowl of soup down on the coffee table. You had lost your appetite again. “It might not be the conversation you’re hoping for, Reiner.” “I know. I just want to know what happened. How did you go from loving me to marrying Connie? Did he really get in your head that much, or did you really love him?” 

Reiner’s words carried a harsher, heavier tone than he had intended. And when he was met with silence as a response, your eyes fixated on the unlit fireplace, Reiner sighed softly.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have brought any of this up right now. It’s selfish.”

“It’s fine.” Turning to look at him, you tried your best to smile as a way of easing the tension. “I mean it, it’s fine. You deserve an answer.”

“You don’t have to give it to me right now, though. I can wait.”

Reiner was always that type of person — the kind-hearted lover. The savior of some sort. He was even the perfect ex, oddly enough. 

“I do love you, Reiner,” you said softly, yet sternly. “Just like I told Eren; I love all of you. I thought I didn’t. Tried to convince myself that I kinda hated all of you, but I realized that wasn’t true.”

“What made you realize that?”

Your eyes flickered down to your shoes. A smile of regret flashed across your exhausted face. “When I successfully pushed everyone away and forced myself into a loveless marriage. When I almost died. When I lost my . . . kid. I wanted someone to be there — You, Levi, Eren, Jean . . . Armin — I just needed all of you. But I can’t have all of you.”  

“I think . . .” Reiner paused, his eyes squinting a bit as he thought about his words carefully before uttering them. “I think that, even so, you loved Armin the most. We were all fools to think otherwise. I saw the way you touched him . . . hugged him the longest the night you told all of us to leave you alone. . . kinda pieced it together then. He was your soulmate.”

Soulmate.

What a horrific word.

The boy you had grown up with, the dandelion-plucking, hardworking, beautiful blonde-haired baker from New York — the one with the scarred hands and a sweet smile, who smelt of cinnamon and enjoyed reading. 

He was the other half of your soul, it would seem.

He was the human part.

And he was gone.

He appeared in your imagination bittersweetly. Standing in the high grass underneath a darkening evening sky was Armin, seven years old with a big head and even bigger blue eyes, holding his tiny hands out so the nearby fireflies would land on his skin.

The second grader wasn’t interested in catching them in a jar to keep as a pet like you were. 

Then, Armin was a teenager, grabbing your wrist and taking you to the breathtaking rooftop of an isolated building to look at the stars, rambling on and on about his dreams, which were rather grand for a poor person.

Lastly, Armin was an adult. He rolled cinnamon rolls. He flipped burgers. He poured concrete. He kissed you. He loved you. He married you. And he waited for you to come back to him.

And he was gone.

Your one true love was dead.

It took Reiner’s large hands gripping your shoulders to snap you out of your overwhelming memories, and only then did you realize that tears were pouring from your eyes, your breathing unsteady as heartbroken sobs fell from between your lips. During such a moment, you weren’t in control of your own body.

Armin was. 

The thoughts of him were wreaking havoc.

The burning feeling in your chest — you couldn’t take in enough air. Couldn’t catch your breath. 

You thought about his look of fear when the bullet from Connie’s gun pierced him.

Annie appeared at your side suddenly, kneeling next to your leg. Her warm hands held onto your trembling ones. She was speaking, but you couldn’t hear what she said. 

You thought about the blood pouring out of Armin’s body.

Screaming sobs made Jean’s ears ring as he rushed into the living room. Drool fell from the corners of your mouth.

You thought about how scared and lonely Armin must have felt, dying on that operating table as a result of your mistakes. 

You killed him! First, you killed his soul by breaking his heart, and then, your chaos involving Connie led to his death. It was all your fault. You might as well should have been the one holding the gun, firing it. 

‘It’s all my fault, all my fault, all my fault,’ you thought. ‘Armin’s gone. Never coming back.’

Tears blurred your vision. 

“What the fuck did you do, Reiner?” Jean shouted above your sobs. “She was fucking laughing a minute ago, and now she’s-”

“I didn’t do anything,” Reiner argued back, but his words were riddled with guilt. “We were just talking and she started crying. What do we do, Annie?”

“How should I know?” Annie frowned, trying to steady your violently shaky hands. She felt just as guilty as Reiner. She was supposed to know. 

One of the front double doors suddenly opened and slammed shut. Jean whipped his head around, startled, and walked into the foyer to see a pissed-off Levi Ackerman.

“What the hell’s going on?”

Jean could barely hear him over the sound of your cries, but he knew that the man was asking the most obvious question. Without waiting for an answer, Levi furrowed his dark brows, gritting his teeth as he swore, the corners of his mouth pulled down into a frown.

He took off his jacket and tossed his keys somewhere. 

Three people whom he trusted to look after you had failed. You were on the verge of a mental breakdown, and here they were, staring at him like a deer caught in headlights when he stepped into his living room. 

“Move,” he ordered Reiner, who pointlessly rubbed soothing circles onto your back.

As much as Reiner wished he could be the one to comfort you, to soothe your sobs and cries, he defeatedly rose from the couch and let Levi take his place.

Levi put one of his legs behind you, stretching it out over the couch cushions. With his entire body facing your side, he reached up, grabbed your shoulder, and slowly, cautiously, pulled you toward his chest. Once your cheek hit his heart, he started to ease back, laying down on the sofa with your body in between his legs and your head on his chest.

Annie grabbed your legs and put them up on the sofa.

Levi’s hands soothingly rubbed your shoulder. “I know,” he whispered. “I know. I got you.”

He didn’t bother with shushing you or telling you that everything would be okay — pointless and meaning acts that provided little comfort. 

He couldn’t promise that everything would be alright.

But he knew that you were hurting. 

And he wasn’t going to let you go through it alone.

“I got you.”

—

It was between midnight and one A.M. when Levi’s eyes lazily fluttered, the click of his lids opening his sharp eyes to reveal a blurry, white, high ceiling amongst the darkness. 

His muscles were sore. As he tried to shift around, he felt the weight of something preventing him from moving.

It was you, fast asleep on top of him. 

He was still on the living room couch, still dressed in his day clothes. 

‘I must’ve fallen asleep too,’ he thought.

Last he could remember, you were starting to calm down, and Reiner tossed a blanket over you. 

Then, the three useless caregivers went home. 

Reiner invited Jean to crash at his place, seeing as the musician could barely use his hands, and Reiner had his own security in light of Connie’s chaos as of late.

A small sigh fell from Levi’s chapped lips, his throat as dry as the desserts he once visited during his time in the military.

He was dehydrated thanks to all the running around he did yesterday, forgetting to drink a sip of water, and yet, he had to pee badly enough to have had a toilet appear in his dream.  His bladder ached from fullness, but he didn’t want to disturb you. 

Levi glanced down at your head pressed against his stomach, more so the outline of it due to the darkness, the moonlight peeking through the drawn curtains of his big living room windows as his only source of light, and he smiled softly. While watching you, he studied your rhythmic breathing — the easy rise and fall of your shoulders.

However, as all good things must come to an end, Levi’s phone started to ring. 

Your eyes fluttered open, a sleepy frown gracing your face. The absence of your warmth as you sat up made Levi frown as well.

Just like that, Levi had pointlessly risked receiving damage to his bladder, because whoever his midnight caller was had disturbed you anyway.

That’s when it hit him.

If someone was calling him at such an ungodly hour, it couldn’t have been good news.

His stomach dropped at the realization, his phone ringing, screaming to be answered, and meanwhile, you were staring at him with wide, worried eyes that held both exhaustion and dreadful anticipation. 

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Levi spoke with an unusual hoarseness, his voice low and raspy from both waking up and unquenched thirst.

He grabbed his phone out of his pocket. His stomach dropped when he saw the caller ID. It was Carla.

“Who is it?” You asked.

Levi didn’t answer. He didn’t let his internal worry be reflected upon his face, either. With an expression as blank as a new sheet of paper, he tapped his screen and answered the call.

“Hello?” He gave a small cough.

You could hear Carla speaking, but you couldn’t make out the muffled words coming from Levi’s phone, which he pressed against his ear with a firm hand. His hands weren’t trembling like yours. 

Despite the quietness, it was impossible to hear Eren’s mother talk to Levi thanks to the thumbing of your heart, which echoed in your ears. 

Levi’s face suddenly paled in color.

“We’re on our way.” He hung up the phone.

“You need to get dressed, Y/N.” He rubbed the lower half of his face with his hand.

“Why?” A tear rolled down your cheek. Your question hadn’t yet been answered, but your soul knew. “What’s wrong?”

Levi’s eyes wouldn’t meet yours. He had no idea how to process what Carla just told him. 

The woman who spoke to him moments ago with a croaking voice and devastating news had told him that the boy he had known for years — the aggressive kid with a kind heart, the one whose family adopted his cousin, the boy who cried on his shoulder when Marco died and Connie went to prison, the person who gave him an insanely fancy mop for his birthday and would always unintentionally mimic him when they were younger, simply wanting to be like him — he was dying.

The doctors estimated that he only had two more hours to live.

“We need to go see Eren.”

The implication was obvious, just as obvious as the fact that Levi was holding back his tears.

Right now, you wanted to find the gun you knew Levi kept somewhere, stick the barrel into your mouth, and meet Eren in the afterlife — greet him once he arrived.

By now, you were out of tears. 

All worn out and dried up inside from mourning one love, and your body could no longer process how to grieve another. 

Numbness ran through your veins. Settled underneath your cold skin. Buried itself into your aching bones. 

The tiny part of your brain that could still function right now presented a horrific, intrusive thought, that perhaps you simply didn’t cry for Eren because you planned on meeting him in Heaven or Hell or another life or wherever your souls went after death soon enough. 

And you’d see Armin too.

All three of you, free from pain.

Maybe you would see your mother again, or meet Eren’s old friend, Marco.

Suddenly, a heartbroken smile appeared across your face.

It was brief, but Levi saw it, and it shook him to his core.

Getting off of the couch, you went into the guest room and got dressed. Your dragging footsteps echoed down the dark hallway.

—

“Y/N! Please give us an autograph, please!”

“Y/N! Y/N! Turn this way!”

“Y/N, is it true that you are the reason Eren Yeager is in the hospital right now? Did you have a hand in the shooting?”

“Y/N, what are your thoughts on being called Carrie White? Is it true you’re going to star in Hander Tapper’s new horror film inspired by your photos? Y/N, please answer!”

Fans and paparazzi alike crowded the brightly lit hallways of the hospital. Pests, they were. Security guards and local police officers held them back like bug exterminators, letting you and Levi squeeze through into the blocked-off, spacious sage green and brown waiting room where a teary-eyed Carla Yeager sobbed into her hands.

She was sitting in a wheelchair, her husband, Grisha, gripping the handlebars as tears rolled down his cheeks. 

“She fainted,” Grisha croaked out. 

Levi approached them first. 

Crouching down, he hugged the unconsolable woman, rubbing her back gently. 

You went for Grisha, hugging him with a face as blank as a blind man, deprived of any and all emotion. 

Only then did you realize that there were other people in the waiting room. 

You recognized some of them as distant relatives of Eren’s family that you had once met. Aunts. Cousins. Even the dear uncle he was named after. He sat in a chair tucked away in the corner, tear-soaked face hidden behind his hands as he thought about the times he carried his nephew on his back and spun him around.

Jean was there too, fixated on his phone. He pressed a button, put his device against his ear, and mumbled into it. From where you stood, you could only make out a few words.

“Mikasa . . . emergency . . . Eren . . . call me back . . .”

“Go see him,” Grisha sniffled, pulling away from the hug.

Levi appeared at your side. Grisha’s sad eyes darted in his direction. 

“H-He shot my baby boy . . .” blinking rapidly, tears streamed down Grisha’s red-stained cheeks even harder, soaking the collar of his white ironed shirt. “That’s my baby boy.”

Suddenly, a freckle-faced woman with big, black, curly hair walked over and wrapped her arm around Grisha.

Her frown lines were rather deep, the crinkles by her eyes much more detailed than they should have been, for her youthful, light brown eyes had shown that she was younger than she appeared to be.

Misery had aged her.

Call it a gut feeling, write it off as a lucky guess, but somehow, you knew that you were staring at Marco’s mother.

Levi’s calloused fingertips graced your wrist as he wrapped his hand around it. 

“Come on,” he said softly.

Two slow footsteps in the direction of the nearest nurse were interrupted by the miserable woman’s voice. 

“Wait,” Marco’s mother called out. 

Leaving Grisha’s side, she approached you and Levi.

“Seeing Eren in such a state will be traumatic,” she warned, her voice raspy. “Sometimes we think seeing someone before or after they pass is the best choice, but consider that this will be the last time you see him alive, and determine whether or not you want that image in your head. Please think about it.”

She spoke from experience. The trembling weary in her voice was a telltale sign. 

“We have to say goodbye,” you spoke plainly. 

“He has a tube down his throat, wires connected to him, machines hooked to almost every part of his body . . . I beg you to think about this.”

“I understand,” you replied with as much compassion as you could muster, but Eren could pass away at any minute. This conversation was a waste of precious time. “I want to see him anyway.”

The woman nodded sadly.

After all, you had seen Eren get shot. Witness the blood pour out of him. Saw him fight to stay alive. 

You had already witnessed Eren in a state that would traumatize you forever.

After approaching the awaiting nurse, you and Levi were escorted down the twisty hallways. This part of the hospital was rather different. 

The white walls were decorated with stained glass of angels, pinned-up flyers containing advertisements regarding churches and grief counselors, and other religious symbols of the afterlife.

It was as if the hospital was declaring Eren to be deceased while his heart was still beating.

Levi held your hand.

Only then, feeling his grasp, had you realized that you were trembling again. 

But at least you weren’t alone.

The nurse slowed her footsteps as she guided you both to a doorless room. The dark-skinned woman smiled sympathetically and walked away.

Marco’s mother spoke with honesty. 

Eren was strung up like a puppet. It was a struggle to walk to his bedside, cords and wires decorating the floor and proposing a tripping hazard to anyone who wasn’t careful, but the nurses tending to the beeping machines walked over them with expertise. 

However, the miserable woman didn’t detail that the hardest part about seeing Eren like that wasn’t the tube down his throat. It wasn’t the wires hooked to his body and the machines, or the constant beeping that you didn’t know the meaning behind and were too afraid to ask.

It was the look on his face.

His eyes weren’t open of course. His skin was pale. Dark circles settled under his eyes. Cheeks were hollow, as he was skinnier than he ever should have been.

Truth be told, he was casket-ready. Physically, at least.

His face told a different story.

Maybe it was your imagination. Maybe it was the natural state of his face. You wouldn’t know.

But his eyebrows were furrowed, as if he was stuck in between anger and fear — pissed off at the fact that he was dying and couldn’t do anything about it, or, perhaps, terrified of what would await him after death.

‘He’s a fighter,’ you thought.

If only one could live if their will was strong enough. If only the universe worked that way.

Leaning down, you pressed your soft lips against his forehead. 

If he was awake, he would have smiled. Affection from you had always reduced the rowdy rockstar into a shy, blushing mess.

Pulling away from Eren, you noticed little droplets on his face. 

You were crying; your tears fell from your eyes and splattered onto his skin.

Gently, with a trembling hand, you wiped it off. 

��Sorry,” you whispered to him.

You turned around to face Levi, but he was staring down at his hand, which held Eren’s, positioned carefully so as to not touch his pulse oximeter.

“I’m sorry, Eren,” Levi mumbled weakly. “I failed you.”

You took a careful step back. It was obvious that Levi had the courage to say goodbye first. 

He took your former spot, leaning down to speak to the dying man, uncertain whether or not he could hear him. It didn’t matter. 

He said what needed to be spoken.

“I was supposed to protect you from all this.” A tear rolled down Levi’s cheek. He placed his hand on Eren’s head. “You needed me to be there for you, and I wasn’t. I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me for it. You’re too damn young to-” 

Levi couldn’t continue. 

He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth. 

Without casting a glance your way, Levi stroked his thumb over Eren’s forehead and left the room.

It was your turn to speak. The lump forming in your dry throat made it nearly impossible, every word requiring effort and great strain, but you had to do it. 

You had to say goodbye, a bittersweet opportunity you didn’t get with Armin.

You stood by Eren’s bedside, the machines beeping as the nurses walked from one side of the room to the other, and you leaned down.

“Eren, it’s Y/N. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m here,” weakly, you sniffled. “Uh . . . everyone’s in the waiting room. You’re not alone, okay? So don’t be scared. We’re here. If I know one thing about you, it’s that you’re fighting like hell to stay alive, aren’t you? No one knows how to fight like you do. You even fought for me once, and I’ll always be grateful for that. Thank you for loving me. And I love you too, okay? So don’t ever doubt it. I’m still hoping that you’ll wake up, but . . . if anyone deserves to rest, it’s you. And . . . maybe I’ll see you soon, Eren.”

Once again, you kissed Eren’s forehead. 

When you left the room heavy with the aura of death, you didn’t return to the waiting room with the others.

Instead, you walked down a bright white hallway with a big medical cart in the middle of it, but deprived of fans and paparazzi, and stepped through the automatic see-through doors, exiting the hospital and walking into the darkness.

It wasn’t odd to see a person walking down the streets of Los Angeles wearing a hood. None of the late-night drivers knew that Hollywood’s biggest heartbreaker was the one teetering dangerously close to the road, walking along the curbs of the busy streets.

It took about two hours of walking through the city to reach your destination. Even among the honking cars, screeching tires, rumbling engines, and booming radios, you could still hear your phone ringing in your pocket. 

You pulled it out after a while.

Eleven missed calls from Levi.

Eight missed calls from Jean.

Darting your eyes down to the bottom of your notification screen, you had a handful of text messages from both of them, but you didn’t bother to read them.

Everyone was either looking for you or trying to tell you that Eren had died.

You put your phone back into your pocket.

Darting across a spacious road that wasn’t busy, orange streetlights as your source of light due to the absence of any headlights from nonexistent cars nearby, you cut through the abundance of trees — this particular foresty area was drastically different compared to the rest of the bustling city.

There, grass and leaves crunched under your feet as you made your way over to the faded green bridge, covered in vines, towering over a body of water.

It was a hidden location that Mikasa had often spoken of, quite different compared to the rest of L.A., but of course, the adventurous woman adored it. She’d often take you here for a quick lunch as a way to free you from the hustle and bustle of the suffocating city, if only for a meal’s worth of time. 

Truth be told, coming here wasn’t your intention. Your soul led you here; your body was along for the ride.

Or the walk, rather.

Approaching the middle of the isolated, raggedy bridge, you sat on the ledge and swung your feet across. 

‘What now?’ you thought. 

The cold water below flowed slowly. Your hands gripped the edge of the ledge. Your mind was split in half — part of you wanted to hang on for dear life, while the other half wanted you to push yourself off. 

It sounded so freeing. Death did. 

Maybe you’d see your mother and father again. Maybe you’d see Armin and Eren. Maybe . . .

Once again, your phone started to ring. 

Why you hadn’t muted it, you couldn’t be certain. 

And why you decided to pull it out now, you wouldn’t ever know. 

Maybe it was to get confirmation regarding Eren’s fate. Maybe a small part of you wanted Levi to talk you out of it. Perhaps, it was so if you did decide to make that body of water below you your official place of death, you would at least be able to die knowing you had spoken to Levi one last time. 

Why that mattered to you, you had no idea.

“Hello?” You said. 

You braced yourself for the heartbreaking news by looking at the water, thinking about how badly it would hurt to come in contact with it, but you were ready.

“Are you okay? Where the hell are you?” Levi rushed out over the phone.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” 

It seemed as if your decision was made: to not haunt Levi by making him aware of your impending demise. 

“Where are you, Y/N?” Levi insisted yet again. Even with an unsteady connection due to your shady location, you could hear the worry in his voice.

“Did you call me because he . . .” 

You couldn’t finish your question. You could only think about the water.

“No, I called you because I can’t fucking find you,” Levi replied. After a beat of silence, Levi continued to speak. “His condition has improved slightly. He’s still holding on. Must’ve been you.”

Miracles — what a stupid fucking concept. A cookie-cutter, mechanically human response to a pleasant aftermath of devastation.

One, specifically, you did not believe in. 

One person’s miracle was another person’s tragedy, more often. People would call it a miracle when someone survived a deadly car crash, even though they caused it, and the person they hit going 90 miles per hour was dead.

Your fans often claim that your music, your utter existence, somehow saved their life. That you were a miracle. But here you were, sitting on the ledge of a raggedy green bridge.

But . . . maybe, just maybe . . .

“Y/N, please tell me where you are.” 

Levi — with his serious, and yet increasingly worried tone — snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I’m fine, I swear-”

“Then why won’t you tell me where you are? Why wouldn’t you answer your phone?”

“I just wanted to be alone,” you lied — well, not entirely. It was the truth, as you did desire solitude. “I’m sorry.”

Right now, you figured that he and everyone else should have been worried about Eren. Not you. 

But . . . maybe, just maybe . . .

“Are you safe?”

The concern and utter fear in Levi’s voice had revealed one thing to you: he cared about you more than he had ever expressed with words.

Perhaps that was obvious. It should have been.

He tried to save you from Connie.

He banded together with your other lovers, but his intent was never clear. Was he trying to win your heart, or did he simply want you to be free?

He fucked you during that one drunken night. You carried his baby until you lost it. He took care of you like someone would care for a loved one.

But he never said he loved you.

What was Levi Ackerman fighting for?

But . . . maybe, just maybe . . .

The way he said those three words — not I love you, those were unspoken — but the way he asked if you were safe. He said it with love.

And, for now, that was enough.

“Not really,” you admitted. You could hear his breath stagger over the phone. “Can you come get me?”

“Send me your location. I’m on my way.”

The phone call ended. 

Not wanting Levi to know your exact whereabouts, you made your way to a nearby diner as quickly as you could before sending him the address.

Sitting on the curb waiting for him to arrive was rather odd. You were hungry. The smell of fresh coffee and buttery pancakes flooding from the 24-hour eatery made your stomach rumble. Desperately, you wanted to yank that door open and order three servings of whatever the old man behind the counter was cooking.

With your head down, and hood up, you looked and felt like a homeless person, not the glamorous celebrity who was currently on the television inside of the partially empty diner.

It was an entertainment news station displaying footage of you and Levi arriving at the hospital. Even though it was around four A.M., those nosy headline-seeking reporters wouldn’t give it a rest. 

But, then again, a famous rockstar was dying.

What happened between you, Connie, Eren, and Armin was the biggest news in the world right now. 

But, even with your face plastered on the television while you sat outside of the little restaurant, you realized that you were both. 

A homeless person and a glamorous, rich celebrity.

You’d have to purchase a home once again after selling your last one — assuming you still wanted to live. 

Levi’s familiar black vehicle pulled up in front of the diner much more quickly than you had expected.

You got into his car, and thankfully, he didn’t bombard you with thousands of questions.

Instead, you looked over at him as he started to pull off, and asked, “Is he still alive?”

“Yeah,” Levi replied, his eyes on the road. “The next twenty-four hours are crucial. He could go either way. But there’s still a chance he could pull through.”

“What changed?” You fidgeted with the string of your hoodie dangling across your chest, looking out the window. “How did he go from having only two hours to live to possibly being able to pull through?”

Levi didn’t respond immediately. It took him a moment.

“I don’t know, but I’m not optimistic.”

“What?” You whipped your head in his direction and looked at his side profile — his jawline sharp as he clenched and unclenched it. 

“Sometimes, a person’s condition improves before they die. It’s fucked up. It gives you false hope that the person will make it. It happens all the time.”

“I take it you’ve seen it happen to someone, hm?” 

Your accusation made Levi grip the steering wheel a bit tighter. 

“My mom. Cancer,” he answered dryly. “Anyway, I just wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what’s happening now, but who the hell knows? Those damn doctors surely act like they don’t.”

You didn’t respond. 

Neither you nor Levi said anything else during the drive back to his place.

The sky was an inspiring canvas painted with soft orange and blue colors as the sun started to rise. With a yawn, Levi arrived at his home, grimacing at the sight of a few lurking reporters and paparazzi still camping out around his place. 

There weren’t as many as before — several of them flocked to the hospital upon discovering Eren’s worsening condition and you and Levi’s presence there. 

“Wish I could run over these bastards,” Levi mumbled. “I wouldn’t mind going to prison for that. I’ll smile in my mugshot. I don’t care.”

A soft laugh escaped you. 

Levi’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of it. 

—

The rest of that day was a challenging blur. 

Trying to eat. Trying to sleep. Left to wonder. Left to wait.

Not knowing if Eren would live or die.

Not knowing if you would live or die.

Eventually, one day led to another, and that day led to the next. And the next.

You’d eat breakfast — something quick. Something easy. Usually, eggs or oatmeal prepared by Levi. Then, you’d visit Eren at the hospital. Say a few words.

At one point, a young nurse asked you to take a picture with her. It was fine, though. You were used to holding back tears and faking a smile.

Even though Eren had survived beyond what the doctors had twice predicted, he was still in a coma. He still wasn’t out of the woods.

After visiting Eren, the rest of your day would typically amount to trying to divorce a missing person, arranging Armin’s funeral with Levi, and being involved in the ongoing investigation into what happened that night with Connie. 

He was still nowhere to be found.

But he was working — using his money to work in favors from a distance.

You might have revealed to the public that he was behind the shooting, sure, but the billionaire used his power to once again influence the justice system.

And just like that, the finest investigators in L.A. had millions of dollars, and there wasn’t any surveillance camera footage of his car on the road that night. 

When you watched the police department hop on live television and indirectly detail how Connie Springer couldn’t have been involved, you had expected all of it to fall back on you.

“He’s going to put the blame on me, isn’t he?” You asked Levi with a face full of tears.

“I won’t let that happen.” 

Levi’s words were comforting, but did they truly have meaning? Was he planning on influencing the justice system with millions of dollars as well? After all, he hadn’t achieved billionaire status like Connie had. Plus — he was unemployed from the very job that made him wealthy. Just how much money did he have in that savings account of his? Did it have anything to do with investing? Did he have other, secret ways of making money?

—

Going out in public was dangerous if Connie wasn’t behind bars, but you’ll be damned if let fear force you into missing Armin’s funeral.

It was a quaint ceremony — it had to be that way, not only because Armin wouldn’t want anything drastic, but because it was the only way to remain hidden from paparazzi and reporters who wouldn’t mind crashing a heartbreaking ceremony for a few pictures.

The majority of the people who showed up amounted to coworkers. It made sense. He was always working, and in a twisted way, his fellow waiters, construction men, and other peers from his previous jobs were his family.

There was nothing — nothing — quite like seeing them lower Armin’s casket into the ground.

It was a sight that took the strength out of your legs, frying your brain until simple functions like walking were a challenge.

It should have been Connie in there. That’s what you thought. That’s what you wished.

Especially when you decided to open the pile of letters collecting dust on your nightstand a few days later.

“How the fuck can he do this to me? How the fuck is this possible?” Tossing down a stack of paper on the desk in Levi’s dark home office — where he sat behind it, typing away on his computer before you stormed in — you continued to both shout and cry.

You were so sick of crying. Tired of tears. 

With brows furrowed in confusion, Levi picked up the letters that were previously folded three ways, indicating that they came in envelopes that had arrived in the mail.  

It made sense.

The entire world knew that your current residence was with Levi. 

Including him.

Unable to sit in any of the black chairs in front of his desk due to your horrific anxiety, you slowly paced back and forth as he read the letters from the bank and collection agencies. 

In short, you were broke, just as poor as you once were when you arrived in Los Angeles as a former baker from New York who had to split sandwiches to survive. 

Connie naturally owned everything that belonged to his artists. Blame the shitty contracts.

But, in your case, you married the bastard. He had his hand in everything tied to your finances. Tied to you. 

And he took it all away.

“Y/N-”

“It’s my fault.” You cut Levi off. Abruptly, you stopped pacing. “I know, okay? I don’t . . . don’t need to hear you say it. I didn’t protect my finances from Connie when we got married, I just . . .”

“You just thought you were the one who had him trapped, not the other way around.” Levi put down the letters. His face was unreadable. “We need to find out if these letters are even real.”

“It’s real,” you said with a sniffle. “I called every fucking number they listed. It’s real.”

“We should’ve seen this coming,” Levi paused. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. 

For someone who always claimed to only want wealthy people associated with his name, Connie certainly didn’t mind leaving his enemies to rot in poverty.  

A deep, shaky breath escaped from between your lips. Slowly, you sat down in one of Levi’s chairs as you said, “It’s my karma, right? For marrying him for wealth . . . tricking him with a baby that wasn’t his . . .”

“Does he know?”

Levi’s eyes darted away from yours. Aside from when he cared for you that night after Armin and Eren were shot and you confessed a truth he already knew, neither one of you talked about the fact that you once carried his baby. 

“Uh,” you sniffled once again, shifting in your seat. “I don’t know if he knows the baby wasn’t his. If he knew it was yours, he might-”

Levi interrupted you, but not with words. 

It was with a dry, yet soft, laugh.

“Shoot me like he did Eren and Armin. That’s what you were going to say, right?” Levi paused. “He’d never.” 

You opened your mouth to speak. You flickered your eyes across the room, feeling rather puzzled as you started to piece things together.

“Levi?” You spoke with caution, preparing to ask a question you weren’t entirely sure you wanted the answer to. “Why hasn’t Connie come after you yet?”

Levi didn’t answer.

You spoke again.

“Aside from being fired and getting a letter threatening your friend, Connie has left you alone. Tell me why.” You bit your lower lip. “Jean and Eren were basically tortured. I was imprisoned. Reiner’s family could have burned to death. Even Armin was beaten, and yet . . . you sent Erwin to rescue me. You stormed Connie’s house with everyone else. You embarrassed him by getting caught sleeping with me, making his company look bad or whatever the hell it is he was always saying. You pissed him off more than anyone else, but you . . . you and your cousin, Mikasa, were always just fine. You still have your nice house even without your overpaid job. There isn’t a scratch on you. You haven’t been locked away. Your loved ones are fine. Tell me why.”

“What are you trying to say? What exactly are you accusing me of, Y/N?”

Suddenly, you pulled out your brand-new phone, the one Levi had purchased for you. 

Your old phone was still with Connie. 

Unlocking your new phone and tossing it on his desk, Levi darted his eyes down at it, then back up at you.

“I always thought it was kinda funny how my stalker took photos of us from right outside your house. But, surely you didn’t have anything to do with it, because why would you get yourself in trouble, right? Unless you knew nothing bad would happen to you. And you knew it would make you look more innocent.” You nodded down at the phone. “Open it. Read my recent messages.”

Levi hesitated, but then, he picked up your phone and scrolled through the recent thread of messages and photos from an unknown number.

The texts were all similar in nature. Different variations of someone claiming they were watching you while snapping pictures of you in public.

“What the hell does this have to do with me?” Levi’s frown deepened. “You think I’m somehow behind you getting stalked? Or do you think I’ve been working with Connie this entire time? Which is it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s both. Maybe you’re behind everything along with him.”

Levi’s glossy eyes glistened with hurt. 

“I promise you that I’m not working with Connie. I’m not the one stalking you, either.”

“Then why hasn’t he come after you?” By now, your hands were trembling again. And although it was cold in Levi’s office, that wasn’t the reason why. Once again, you sniffled. “Why won’t you answer me?”

Amid Levi’s silence, you got up from the chair. “Okay, that’s it. I’m fucking leaving.”

You didn’t have any place to go, truly. Instead of money, you had to rely on hope, that maybe Reiner, Jean, or Annie would let you stay with them for a little while. 

Assuming you could trust anyone right now.

“Wait,” Levi called out defeatedly. “Don’t leave.”

Slowly, you sat back down.

“I’m not stalking you, and I don’t know who is. I’m not working with Connie either.” Levi’s voice softened. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not guilty of some things. I’ve been with CS Records as a manager since the beginning. I saw everything he did become successful. I knew how he treated people. I knew what kind of monster he was, but I didn’t do anything about it. He made me one of the richest managers in Hollywood, so I kept my mouth shut. I let good people get hurt. I told myself I couldn’t do anything about it because he could kill me and make it look like an accident, but that was just an excuse. I didn’t start pissing him off until you came around, and I just wanted to protect you.”

“That’s why you were apologizing to Eren when you were saying your goodbyes. He’s one of the people you let get hurt.” You glared at Levi. “Still doesn’t explain why Connie leaves you alone.”

“He leaves me alone because I have evidence. I’ve been collecting it since the day he made Eren and Jean sign their first contract.” Levi made unwavering eye contact with you. It sent a chill up your spine. “He doesn’t know where it is, doesn’t know what it is, so he can’t destroy it. But he knows I have it.”

“Seriously? That doesn’t make any fucking sense! How the hell does he know you have evidence but doesn’t know what it is?”

“I alone am a piece of evidence, because I’m a witness to almost everything he’s done.” Levi got up from his seat. He walked around his desk and leaned back against it, and he looked down at you.

“Listen. All you need to know is that Connie doesn’t touch me because he knows I could ruin his life. He knew I’d be fine if he fired me. I’m smart with my money. Anything else would be crossing a line with me, and he knows that.”

“Then why haven’t you come forward with all this evidence you’ve been collecting?”

“Because I don’t know if it’ll be enough.” Levi paused. “I give it to the police, then what? He’ll just pay to get it tossed out.”

“If that’s the fucking case, then I don’t get why he doesn’t come after you anyway if he knows he’ll get away with it. Wouldn’t killing you solve that problem?” Your glaring only intensified. Levi, however, remained calm.

“Probably, but I also have the guts to kill him,” Levi replied. 

After all, Connie wasn’t the best shooter. Two out of three of his recent victims had survived. If he tried to murder Levi to get rid of any evidence and the skilled man lived, then the retaliation would have been horrific. 

You raised your eyebrows in shock. Then, your face fell into a blank expression. You chuckled a bit.

“I’m telling the truth,” Levi spoke with sternness, and yet, his voice was soft as well.

“I don’t care,” shaking your head, you could see Levi’s heart break a bit. It was reflected within his intense, sad gaze. “If what you’re saying is true, then you’re still the bastard who stood by and did nothing while Connie abused his artists with contracts and all of his fear tactics. And you let me join that fucked up label as well, and you didn’t say a damn word. Collecting evidence — for what? So you could continue to sit back and do nothing? You’re telling me he won’t touch you because you’re apparently so goddamn dangerous that he’s afraid you’ll kill him, but yet, you don’t have the power to throw his ass in jail? I don’t care if he dies. I don’t care if he goes to prison. But something has to happen to him. You have to do something — you could have done something. What will it take for you to even try? Was-Was Erwin getting shot not enough? Was him torturing people not enough? What about Armin getting murdered? Remember him? The guy who had you as his emergency contact because he trusted you? Or what about Eren? The son of the people who adopted your cousin? Will you finally do something once I die? Is that what it’ll fucking take?”

Once again, you rose from your seat, but this time, Levi didn’t try to stop you.

“I get it. You’re not as rich as him. You can’t influence people to the degree that he can. You give the evidence to the police, he gets rid of it, and then there’s no point. But you should have tried. You should have tried years ago. Hell, even two months ago would’ve made a difference,” you started to make your way towards his front door. He followed closely behind. “You were always fucking lying . . . saying you couldn’t do anything because of his gun or his Silent Men or whatever . . . there was always an excuse. And, let me guess, taking me in and caring for me was your way of apologizing? Was fucking me supposed to make it all better too?”

“Are you serious?” Levi followed you into the foyer. The anger in his voice — an anger you hadn’t ever known to come from him — it made you stop walking and turn around to look him in the eye. But despite his harsh tone, his gaze was filled with nothing but hurt. The amount of pain — you hadn’t recognized that either. “You tried to use our baby . . . my baby . . . as a way for you to get revenge on Connie, and I didn’t say a word. It’s hilarious how you’re pissed with me for not taking down the same bastard you married. You were more than willing to let him continue to be a piece of shit if it benefited you, and I didn’t say a word. You’re no better than I am.” You’re eyes shifted away from Levi, but he continued to speak. “Maybe I should’ve done something a long time ago, but if you can recall, every single one of us stormed Connie’s house, ready to put a bullet in his head, and you told all of us to fuck off. You yelled at us for trying to handle him. Now you’re yelling at me for not handling him. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what you want when it comes to anything.”

“You should have done something long before I got involved with him or with you. You should have done something years before you even met me.” Your voice was softer now. Levi couldn’t tell if your shaky words were laced with guilt or with quiet hatred.

Thanks to the darkness of the foyer and you standing in the dark shadows, whereas he stood in the moonlight spilling in through the nearby windows, he could barely see your face. 

Regret and guilt bubbled up inside of him until his insides felt rotten. It wasn’t a matter of who was right and who was wrong, nothing was that simple when everyone had regrets that kept them up at night, tossing and turning in bed, but Levi knew one thing: he didn’t want to lose you.

“Let’s just sit down and talk about this,” he said. He hated the way he sounded, but he hated the idea of you leaving even more.

“Nope, there’s nothing else to talk about,” you stared at Levi with dark eyes he couldn’t recognize. “All of those media training classes you and Connie put me through told me it was improper to voice my opinions like this. Remember?”

When your hand touched the door handle, Levi’s hand grabbed your wrist. 

“What? Are you gonna imprison me too? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Your jab hit Levi like someone slapped him across his face. As a former member of the military, and as someone who had quite a rough childhood, he was good, old friends with pain.

But nothing had hurt quite like your words.

The ache in his heart had spread to every limp. It was an unfathomable pain he could feel down to his fingertips.

There was an unpleasant prickle of hot tears threatening to fall. His waterline brimmed with them. He wasn’t the type of person to cry easily, but that changed when it came to you.

Everything changed when it came to you.

“It’s late at night. You have nowhere to go and no money to get anywhere. If you want to leave, I won’t . . . I won’t stop you. But you should call someone and ask them to pick you up. If you try to walk, all of the goons with cameras outside will just follow you down the street.”

You didn’t let go of the door handle. Levi continued to speak. “We could also sit down and talk it all through. I made mistakes. I’m human, and a shitty one, but I’m sorry. Me helping you out wasn’t to ease my guilt. I did all of that because I care about you and you know it. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Only a few seconds had passed, but to Levi, it felt as if you were both frozen in time for an eternity, plus an extra minute. 

Your hand released the door handle, and Levi let go of your wrist. Suddenly, you turned around and started to walk away, your shoes lightly stomping against the floor. You walked past Levi as if he was invisible.

“I’m calling someone to come get me,” you shouted, making your way back to Levi’s office to retrieve your phone. “Once I’m done, you can have that phone back. And never speak to me again, got it? As far as I’m concerned, you’re just as bad as Connie.”

—

One hour later, Reiner arrived to pick you up from Levi’s house. And, of course, cameras flashed continuously as you made your way to his passenger seat and slammed the door closed. 

You hated to use Reiner this way — even if he didn’t mind it. 

It wasn’t fair to him.

But you had no other option. 

You didn’t know Annie well enough to burden her with this. Jean was too busy with his own recovery. Luckily, Jean was back at his own place, being looked after by hired help. 

Being around Reiner had instantly overwhelmed you with comfort. His aura alone was soothing. The way he looked at you with soft, concerned eyes had created the delusion that, perhaps, everything would be okay someday.

Reiner was silent for the first few minutes. Then, as he made a right turn, he asked that haunting question: “What happened?”

“Connie took all of my money. Made me realize that Levi hasn’t suffered as much as everyone else. When I asked him about it, he told me that Connie doesn’t bother him because Connie knows that Levi isn’t afraid to kill him and has evidence that can put him in prison. He said he hasn’t turned it in to the police because he figures Connie will just pay to get rid of it, which makes sense, but . . .”

“But what?” Reiner darted his eyes in your direction, then back at the road ahead. 

“Levi was in the position to do something about Connie. Even if turning in evidence failed, he still sat back and let everyone join CS Records. Fear is a powerful thing, and if Connie is really afraid of Levi and everything he could do, then Levi could have used that fear to get Connie to do anything — turn himself in, stop being a shitty person, anything. But he did nothing. He’s still doing nothing.”

Reiner knew you. He knew that right now, a lot of your anger wasn’t truly directed at Levi. The poor man was just being used as a punching bag, a way for you to avoid being angry with yourself for not protecting your finances from Connie. It was a way to not take in your new reality: you were poor and homeless yet again.

After all, one could blame Levi for not acting out against Connie’s behavior for whatever reason. 

But you were just as guilty.

Fear was a powerful tool, but so was love. 

If you weren’t blinded by his billionaire status, then, perhaps, you too could have done something about Connie. After all, you knew what kind of man you married.

But you didn’t do anything. 

Everyone else was guilty as well.

No one tried to stop Connie when they had the chance, beyond trying to free you from his grasp. Blame the contracts. Blame the fear of homelessness or death. Those were all valid excuses, but they were excuses, nevertheless. 

And now Armin was dead.

Maybe Levi should have been the one to go toe-to-toe with Connie. After all, if Connie was scared of him, then he had the biggest chance of surviving the chaos that would have ensued by trying to toss him in prison. Reiner couldn’t say. But he felt as if your anger was misplaced.

He wouldn’t admit it, though.

The last thing he wanted was for you to jump out of his car.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Reiner said gently, the nickname not holding any romantic implications, but rather, just a result of his southern nature.

“It’s not alright,” with a sniffle, you folded your arms across your chest. “He’s gonna get away with murdering Armin too. He’s gonna get away with everything.”

—

Reiner set you up in his homey guest room. Promised that you could stay as long as you wanted. But he wasn’t a fool. 

Your heart had moved on from him. 

It belonged to that dead baker in the ground.

Even so, he would be there for you no matter what.

Two weeks later, it was raining. Rarely had such weather occurred in L.A., but for the last few years, it rained more often. 

Your days consisted of sitting on the bay window bench in the beautiful, charming living room, sipping on warm beverages.

One day, you walked into the kitchen, smiled at Reiner, and said, “Your cappuccinos are amazing.”

Since then, a steaming hot cup of cappuccino was always waiting for you on the kitchen counter.

This morning wasn’t any different. You were greeted with your favorite hot drink as of late, and after getting dressed, you both headed to the hospital to visit Eren.

He was still hanging on. Still in a coma. Still teetering between life and death.

On this rainy day, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d see Levi as well. You hadn’t spoken since the day you yelled at him. The pained look on his face haunted you more than you would have liked to admit, it reappeared in your scattered mind whenever you tried to fall asleep at night. After spending those sleepless evenings lost in thought over what conspired between you both, you realized that you were out of line. 

Reiner didn’t want to admit it, but you could see the way his eyes shifted whenever you ranted about Levi during dinner. He chewed on his chicken alfredo and didn’t say a word, but it was obvious that he thought the same thing.

Everyone had done some things wrong. Everyone had done some things right.

Levi had reasons to be angry with you, such as trying to use his baby to trick another man into marrying you for greed and revenge. Even so, he never snapped at you. He didn’t speak to you the way you spoke to him.

But it didn’t matter anymore. You were poor. The world had started to forget about Armin’s murder. Eren’s condition hadn’t changed, so he was no longer appearing in headlines. Everyone had started to paint Connie Springer as innocent, and for the people who hadn’t, they didn’t care. Several billionaires have killed a person or two. Who cared about some random waiter?

In short, the world found other things to obsess over. 

It was tragic and peaceful at the same time. 

Arriving at the hospital, only a few paparazzi lurked outside of the entrance. Fans were still present as they screamed for you and Reiner.

And, both luckily and unfortunately, you didn’t see Levi in the waiting room.

“Hi honey,” Carla greeted you softly, wrapping her arms around you. 

“It’s good to see you,” with a gentle smile, you pulled away from her, and like you had done a thousand times, you asked, “How is he?”

“There are some positive signs,” Carla clenched the piece of tissue in her hand. “Why don’t you go see him?”

The positive signs that Carla had mentioned seemed nonexistent. When you walked into Eren’s room, nothing about the rockstar had changed. But there weren’t any nurses in his room right now. There wasn’t the thick aura of death. The machines hooked to his body didn’t sound so scary.

But he was still there, pale and thin, eyebrows furrowed with a tube down his throat and wires attached to his body. 

This time, you pulled up a chair to sit by Eren’s side. By now, you had gotten more comfortable with talking to him. 

“Hi, Eren. It’s Y/N,” you greeted. Gently, you pulled up on the collar of his hospital gown, straightening it out more. You stroked his forehead with your thumb, and let your fingers run through his hair. 

You didn’t see it, but a finger on Eren’s left hand twitched.

“Hair’s still amazing, don’t you worry. Your mom’s been combing it every day,” you said softly. “I’ve been drinking cappuccinos lately. It’s just one little thing I have to look forward to, you know what I mean? It makes me think about all the things waiting for you when you wake up. All the things you have left to look forward to. I know life has been shitty, but . . . your family’s still here. I’m still here. We aren’t going anywhere. You’re going to wake up, heal, and live a long life, okay? You’re going to be so happy, healthy, and free. We’ll all make sure of it. I’m going to sit here with you for a while — is that okay?”

You ran your thumb across Eren’s eyebrow. Even like this, he was still so beautiful.

Perhaps, the entire world would have been more eager to throw Connie in prison if he had ruined Eren’s face.

Leaning out of your seat a bit, you planted a kiss on Eren’s forehead. 

“I love you, Eren.”

Eren’s finger twitched again.

Thirty minutes had passed. During that time, you sat with Eren, talked to him, and even read him a few pieces of dialogue from a play you were writing in your spare time. It was nothing more than a few printed-out sheets of paper inside of a flimsy folder.

As you scanned over the written stage directions, you flipped the page, mumbling about details you needed to change in certain scenes.

You didn’t notice that Eren had slightly opened his eyes until his body jerked and the nearby machines started beeping.

“What the hell?” Your eyes widened. A nurse grabbed your shoulders, ushering you out of the room as another one grabbed your chair.

Unfamiliar medical terms were exchanged, but from the hallway, you watched as Eren’s body continued to jerk. It must have been the tube down his throat, as they seemed to work quickly to remove it.

More doctors and nurses rushed into his room. More machines continued to beep. 

Holding your folder against your chest, your arms started to shake.

Tears started to fall like clockwork, but this time, they were from utter happiness, as Eren was starting to wake up.

—

The following week was a blur — a beautiful, confusing blur.

“As an actor,” Reiner paused, holding your hand comfortingly as you both sat in the waiting room. “I’ve seen my fair share of storylines involving comas. Television usually gets it wrong, huh?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a polite whisper. “Either way, I’m happy. I can’t wait to see him . . . see him and have him actually respond to me.”

You knew exactly what Reiner was referring to. In movies and shows, patients often awakened from comas and were immediately responsive. You recalled seeing Reiner partake in having to play the heartbroken spouse on the other end of that sappy storyline once.

But, in reality, it took Eren a while to come around. Recovery wasn’t easy.

He had to get the hang of walking again, and other basic skills. Therapy, for both his mental and physical state, consumed his entire hospital stay.

For the first few days, he was utterly confused, and needed time to piece together what had happened to him. According to Carla, he remembered getting shot by Connie.

He remembered everything after a while.

The doctor didn’t want anyone aside from Eren’s parents visiting him during the start of his recovery. 

But now, you could see him.

He was in a different room this time. It was a proper one with a door, free from the symbolic afterlife advertisements and the aura of death.

This was a room that belonged to someone who was expected to live.

You knocked gently, then opened the door.

And there he was.

Only a week had passed, and yet, he looked better. Some color had returned to his soft skin. He looked as healthy as a person who had been shot and survived being in a coma for weeks could look.

What made you smile tearfully was that when you saw him this time, he was looking back at you.

Those piercing, gorgeous emerald eyes locked with yours. 

And he smiled beautifully.

“Eren,” his name slipped from between your lips.

You rushed over to where he sat in his wheelchair — he was undoubtedly sick of laying down, but not well enough to constantly move around just yet — and you leaned down and hugged him.

“I’m so sorry,” your hands were lost in his hair. You felt him weakly hug you back.

“I’m so glad you’re alive, oh my god, Eren. I thought you were gonna die.”

Pulling away from Eren, you couldn’t help but cup his face and kiss his forehead. Truly, you didn’t want to overwhelm him, but you just had to kiss his cheeks as well. And his nose. 

He might have been a badass rockstar, but your kisses made him blush.

After showering his face with affection, you sat down on the side of his bed. He was holding on to a big refillable water bottle. His portable I.V. pole was next to his wheelchair. He had yellow socks on his feet. The furthest corner of his enormous hospital room was filled with get-well gifts, cards, flowers, and balloons, including your own presents that you had dropped off earlier in the week, even though you couldn’t give it to him directly at the time. On the television, the action-comedy film Rush Hour was playing. He must have been watching it before you came in.

All of those little details you had noticed made you grin, simply because it meant one thing: Eren Yeager was alive.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, noticing that he hadn’t yet said anything to you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m . . . o-kay.”

The sudden heartache you felt sent waves of pain through your chest and down to your fingertips. 

He sounded unrecognizable.

It made sense.

He hadn’t spoken in weeks. His throat was also swollen from having a tube wedged down it for so long.

“Good. I’m glad,” you gave him a sad, soft smile. 

Eren’s eyes scanned over you. A look of worry flashed across his face. You seemed different, but that was understandable. 

He had heard about everything that was going on. 

Connie’s disappearance. Jean’s punishment. Your fight with Levi. Staying with Reiner. Your lack of funds. Armin’s death. 

His mother held him while he cried a few nights ago after learning that he had survived, but not his best friend. “I know, baby,” his mom whispered repeatedly, holding her son in his hospital bed as sobbed, wishing he could somehow trade his life for Armin’s.

And he couldn’t imagine how you felt.

Although it hurt to speak, he had to ask.

“You . . . o-okay?”

“Don’t worry about me,” you gave a wave of your hand. “I’ll be fine.” 

Eren could see the sadness in your eyes, and not just from everything you were going through, but because you had walked in here with the hopes of listening to Eren run his mouth, only to discover that he could barely speak.

So, instead, he reached out, grabbed your hand, and ran his thumb across your knuckles.

Grabbing his hand, you suddenly raised it to your lips and kissed the spot below where his fingers were missing.

Seeing you make such a loving gesture both warmed Eren’s heart and snapped it into pieces. 

He looked at you with the softest, most loving eyes. 

If only he hadn’t let go of you way back then. If only he didn’t toss his ring and let Connie intimidate him into divorcing you.

If only.

Eren pulled his hand away from you. He stroked your cheek with his thumb. He tapped your nose with his pinky finger. Ruffled your hair a bit. Touched you in any way he could to communicate when speaking wasn’t the best option. It was his way of reminding you that this visit wasn’t the same as the previous ones. He might not have been talkative, but unlike when he was in his coma, he could look at you. Hear you. See you. Touch you.

Soon enough, you laughed. What a lovely sound — it always was.

“I heard you tried to throw a cup at your doctor once you found out he told us you only had two hours to live,” with a playful smirk, you jabbed at his cheek a bit with your finger. 

Eren nodded proudly.

‘That asshole scared everyone I loved,’ Eren thought.

Suddenly, your smile faded. Eren’s grin quickly diminished as well, and he looked at you with great concern.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking . . . I’m worried.” With a pause you carefully considered whether or not you should express your haunting thought. But it had to be something Eren was worried about as well.

“What if Connie comes back and finishes the job?”

Eren’s face of concern changed into anger at the mention of Connie’s name. Eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched — hearing the name of the bastard who shot him and killed his friend had flipped a switch within him.

But, truthfully, even if Eren could talk normally right now, he still would have met your question with silence.

What would he do, exactly?

As many times as Eren thought he had to courage to take the man’s life, he secretly accepted that he wasn’t that cold-hearted. He couldn’t kill someone, especially an old friend he had grown up with. Someone he would have died for.

Sometimes, he still saw that funny, idiotic teenager who liked to mix all of his food together during lunch and cherished his friend group. Never could he fully accept that the Connie he once knew was gone forever, replaced by a monster who only cared about money and power.

A monster who tried to kill him.

The corners of Eren’s mouth fell into a frown. He looked down at the white floor beneath him. 

“I guess that’s something we should worry about later, huh? Your recovery comes first. He won’t touch you while you’re in here.” Your smile was comforting, but it wasn’t convincing.

After all, this could have been the easiest way to kill Eren.

Connie could hire someone, get them to pretend to be a nurse, enter his room, and shove a pillow over his face until he suffocated.

No one would question his death if he died at the hospital. Especially when the doctors were certain he’d die a long time ago.

“Hey, I have an idea,” you said. “Why don’t we head down to the cafeteria? They have ice cream down there.”

Instantly, Eren grabbed the pole to his transportable I.V. on wheels, indicating that he was ready to go. 

You got up, grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, and started to push him out of his room.

“I don’t even know if I’m allowed to do this, but I’m gonna do it anyway.”

Reaching back with the hand that wasn’t holding on to the rolling I.V. pole, he touched your hand as a way of saying thanks.

Making your way down to the cafeteria was an easy journey for the most part. By now, the nurses and doctors who worked in the hospital had gotten used to seeing you, Eren, and other celebrities roaming the halls. 

But the group of fans gathered outside of the entrance lost their minds when they saw that familiar head of brown hair. 

Their muffled screams were startling. Some of them started to cry. They banged on the seethrough doors, either trying to get inside or catch Eren’s attention, you couldn’t be certain. As you rolled him by, he gave his fans a casual wave. 

That only made them scream even louder. 

Silence arrived once you pushed Eren out of their view and rolled him down a hallway decorated with modern, colorful contemporary art, contrasting against the white walls and floors pleasantly  — rather nice for such a depressing place.

“Wanna play U.N.O later? I have the cards in my purse.” 

Eren could hear the casual excitement in your voice. Of course, you brought U.N.O cards. You loved that game, even if you tried to create your own rules.

At the sight of Eren’s nod, you said, “Great! It’ll be fun. I won’t change the rules this time-”

Suddenly, your footsteps came to a halt.

At the end of the hallway, Levi appeared.

Eren waved at him. Levi smiled, but it quickly diminished when his eyes darted up to you.

The man who was typically sharply dressed looked rather disheveled. Black hair was messy, longer than it typically was, and the dark circles under his eyes made it clear he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. He wore a grey long-sleeved hood and a pair of jeans. His phone was in his right hand, and he tapped it with his thumb, ending a phone call, more than likely. In his left hand, he carried a thermal bag. It must have been food for Eren’s parents.

Turning his head around in his wheelchair, Eren looked back at you, then faced forward to look at Levi.

Oh, how awkward it was. 

A wave of heat ran through your body. Pure shame and utter embarrassment. But turning around would have made it worse. So, you pushed Eren right past Levi as you mumbled, “Excuse me.”

—

The rest of the day was spent in Eren’s company. Eating ice cream, playing U.N.O, and watching the rest of Rush Hour made you forget your own troubles for just a few hours.

The rockstar didn’t want to admit it because he didn’t want you to leave, but he was exhausted. You could tell based on his tired eyes and sleepy grin.

So, you let him rest, telling him goodbye and kissing his forehead gently after helping him back into his bed.

Returning to the waiting room, you overheard Carla and Grisha discussing having two bodyguards standing outside of Eren’s door for his safety. After hugging them goodbye, you went down to one of the more private exits of the hospital and stood outside underneath the carport-like shade. You hadn’t called Reiner just yet. He was a busy man, one who still had a career to worry about, and he had clocked in for a sixteen-hour shift on yet another film set after making sure you were able to visit Eren. 

But he promised that he’d send a driver out to pick you up and take you back to his house once you were ready to leave. All you had to do was send a text message.

However, a lump of guilt formed in your throat, preventing you from doing so. 

Reiner never made you feel like a bother. He welcomed you back into his home — back into his life with open arms, even as a friend.

Although you could see the glisten of hurt behind his kindhearted gaze because your heart no longer belonged to him, he never did anything for you because he expected some kind of love or favor in return.

But your lack of independence was starting to get to you.

Never — not once in your entire life — had you truly been independent. 

Maybe for about a year at most, but aside from that, someone had always cared for you, whether it was with diamonds and fine dining or pennies and sandwiches.

So, you didn’t text Reiner. You put your phone back into your purse, unsure of what to do.

That’s when you noticed Levi walking out of the door. Once again, he was ending a phone call. 

Who exactly was he always on the phone with?

This time around, encountering Levi was far more awkward. It was just the two of you, standing outside, alone in the dark, listening to the gentle raindrops splatter onto the ground. 

Levi started to turn around and head back inside, but the sound of your voice made his footsteps halt.

“Wait,” you said. “Don’t leave.”

Levi didn’t move.

“I’m sorry, Levi. I was out of line the other day.”

He turned to face you. Staring at his unreadable expression, you wished that, just once, you knew what he was thinking. 

“That’s your apology?” Levi’s sudden frown was a mix of both sadness and anger. “After everything you accused me of . . . everything you said to me . . . that’s the best you can do?”

Your shameful gaze dropped down to your feet, briefly staring at the concrete ground before looking back up into his eyes.

“I was upset. I was going through a lot and I wanted someone to blame. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, especially after everything you’ve done for me when you didn’t have to lift a finger. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person. I of all people know how difficult it is to break free from someone like Connie . . . to pick wanting money over doing the right thing . . . and . . . I’m just sorry.”

The rain started to pour harder. It filled the silence until, after a moment, Levi started to speak.

“I forgive you. You weren’t entirely wrong, either. I should have done more, and I should have done it years ago. I was never the kind of person who’d let people get hurt as long as it benefitted me, and how I became this way, I don’t know. I’m sorry too.”

“I understand,” you said. The smile that appeared across your face had erased any remaining aggravation that Levi might have felt in his heart. “Believe me, I get it. I don’t know much about your past, but I know you know what poverty feels like, right? I mean, most people don’t understand how far someone will go to avoid being homeless and starved. That’s where me and you are kinda similar, you know? Along with that, you said you had been collecting evidence since the beginning, right? You might not have done anything with it yet, but . . . in my opinion, it means that you didn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

Connie wasn’t always as cruel as he was now — a simple, yet important fact that was often overlooked by his latest actions. Once upon a time, he was just a ruthless entrepreneur with life-altering contracts. Still a shitty human being, but it was better than who he was now — a murderer. Imprisoner. Torturer.

That came once you got involved with his life and label. 

And that was when Levi, and everyone else, hit their limit. 

Your words made it difficult for Levi to make eye contact with you. He wasn’t shy by nature, nor someone who was easily made to feel anxious or nervous — an effect he had on others — but hearing you say those words, especially after your argument, was touching. 

But nothing could ease his guilt. It was a burden he’d live with forever, something he wasn’t certain he could learn to forgive himself for even after a lifetime of therapy. 

Not until Connie was behind bars or six feet under, at least.

“Y/N, did you really think I took care of you to ease my guilt?”

With a light shrug, you mumbled, “I’d be lying if I said I knew why you did anything, Levi.”

“Really?” Levi smiled sadly. His voice was soft as he spoke. “Are you being serious? I let you sleep in my house. I bought all of your favorite snacks in bulk. The only time I’ve ever tried to fight against Connie was for you. Everything I’ve done . . . you mean to tell me you don’t realize that I love you?”

There it was. That beautiful confession. One that made you want to smile and cry at the same time. 

“Finally. I love you too.” With glassy eyes and a soft grin, you breathlessly said, “Well, it took you so long to say it first, no wonder I didn’t piece it together. I guess I’m not as smart as I thought I was.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Suddenly, as that last word rolled off of his tongue, Levi stepped forward, cupped your cheeks, and pressed his lips against yours.

He didn’t care who might have been watching. He didn’t care if you were an infamous heartbreaker. He moved his lips against yours passionately without any regret. And — god, he could feel your lips wanting to spread into a smile as you kissed him back. 

It was the kind of kiss that made him mourn what could have been. 

He thought about you both losing your baby more than he let on.

And he thought about what his life might have been like if Connie never imprisoned you. If the seed of revenge was never planted within you.

Would you have told him the truth? Would the two of you have had a family, perhaps? Some sort of happy ending? Was it too late to try again?

When Levi pulled away from the kiss, it was only because he needed to breathe. Damn the human body for needing oxygen during such a sweet, cherishable moment. 

As badly as Levi wanted to take you home and toss you across his bed, he couldn’t. 

Not yet.

The last thing he wanted your relationship to amount to was friends with benefits.

You both almost had a child, and yet, he hadn’t even taken you out on a proper date.

Levi’s eyes darted down at his black shoes. He couldn’t see it, but the sight of his cheeks becoming a faint shade of pink and his flickering eyes made you smile even harder than before. Underneath his intimidating and cold personality, he was rather adorable.

“Are you busy tonight?” Levi questioned. He subtly cleared his throat, attempting to play off his sudden awkwardness. “If not, we should go somewhere.”

“On a date?” “Yes. On a date.”

—

Levi was a classy man. Call him old-fashioned, but he preferred the ways of greeting his date with flowers, wearing dresses and suits, fine dining at gourmet restaurants, and being the perfect gentleman. 

But tonight would have to go differently.

After all, you were both giving each other the silent treatment several minutes ago. Now, you were sitting in his car, getting ready to have a late dinner with him.

Half of him had wished that he asked you out tomorrow night instead, giving him time to prepare, but, truth be told, there was something charming about being this spontaneous. 

As he drove down the streets of Los Angeles, struggling to concentrate on the road because he wanted to keep staring at your cute grin — which made him smile too — he wasn’t sure where to take you tonight.

It wasn’t easy. After all, you were both dressed appropriately to visit someone in the hospital, not to go dining at a five-star restaurant amongst other celebrities and rich citizens. 

But, if you went to cheaper, less impressive dining places where your outfits would have been fine, you both would certainly be bombarded by paparazzi and fans who weren’t used to seeing celebrities walk into such common eateries. 

Even so, he was certain you would have preferred to eat at one of the more sophisticated restaurants in town. Levi had opened his mouth to suggest you both go somewhere for a quick wardrobe change so he could properly treat you to a classic steak and lobster dinner, a meal you had rambled about often in the past, but before he could speak, you sat up, staring out of the passenger seat window. 

“Oh, wait, wait, Levi, let’s eat there!”

It was a diner. A tiny, twenty-four-hour restaurant that undoubtedly served bottomless coffee, greasy food, and had an interior that hadn’t been remodeled since the 1970’s. 

It was the same place Levi picked you up from a while ago.

Pulling into the parking lot, Levi could see that the family-owned diner was being run by a chubby old man wiping down a table, who looked like he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Despite living in the heart of all things film and music-related, the man didn’t seem like someone who would recognize you and Levi. Or, if he did, he wouldn’t care. All he cared about was serving his customers delicious food and making sure their bellies were full, no matter who they were.

From what Levi could tell, only one or two customers were in the diner. A younger girl who looked like a runaway, and another old man who was looking forward to completing a crossword puzzle in the morning. 

“I know it’s not . . .” you paused, thinking of the appropriate word. “I know it’s not fancy, but I don’t know. I saw this place the other day, and I really wanted to go inside. The food smelled really good.”

“Then let’s go inside, hm?” Levi smiled softly. He had never smiled so much in one day before.

Excitedly, you swung your passenger door open, and Levi had to grab your arm. “Wait, slow down,” he was rather amused at your impatience. 

“What? What’s wrong?” You frowned. 

Levi opened his center console and pulled out a hat. He tugged it on your head before pulling his own gray hood up. 

Everyone could still see your faces, but maybe the hats and hoods would help against any strollers who might pass by the diner, glance through the window, and see your familiar head shape.

—

Just as Levi had predicted, the old man treated you both like human beings.

The other old man in the diner hadn’t even glanced over to see who entered, as Jeopardy! was playing on the television hanging on the wall, and it held his attention like a moth drawn to a flame. 

However, the young runaway — a brunette teenage girl with the tips of her hair dyed bright purple — didn’t recognize Levi, but she knew who you were. After all, she owned a physical copy of the latest album created by Eldian Devils and a Jean Kirstein t-shirt — a black top with a white line drawing of his lazily cupped hands. His fans adored his hands as much as he did.

Two days ago, she watched your movie, A Game of Darkness, through Netflix on her cell phone as she waited at the bus stop.

But she didn’t bother you. She didn’t freak out.

Instead, she smiled kindly, removed her hand from the pocket of her jean jacket, and waved.

When you waved back, her smile brightened, and she went right back to eating her stack of pancakes.

The Classic. That’s what you had ordered; a burger and fries combo complete with a milkshake you shared with Levi.

Levi had ordered a sandwich with tater tots, but that didn’t stop him from stealing a french fry off of your plate.

Playfully, you swatted at his hand.

“Excuse you,” you said with a grin. “I bet if I took a bite of your sandwich, you’d start scoffing at me.”

“You can take a bite, I don’t care. The problem is that you’d unhinge your jaw and take the biggest bite possible,” grabbing two tater tots off of his plate, he put them on yours. “There. Now we’re even.” 

“One fry equals two tater tots?” You questioned. 

“Yeah, ‘cause they’re smaller.” 

“But they’re wider.” 

“Fine then,” with a small grin, Levi stole another one of your fries. 

You giggled a bit — a sound that would forever make Levi fall in love with you just a bit more. It seemed as if being in the diner had made you forget all your troubles, even just for a little while.

With your hand placed over the circular bottom of the vanilla milkshake in an old-fashioned glass, served with whipped cream and a cherry on top, you slowly slid it across the table to Levi’s side after taking a sip. 

“I’m giving you permission to steal another french fry from me, but you have to dip it in the milkshake.” 

“What for?” 

Dipping your own fry into the creamy dessert, you said, “I had a feeling you never tried it before.” 

“Got that right. I don’t look at a french fry and think, hey, this could really use some frozen sweet milk,” Levi's teasing tone made you tap his leg with your foot underneath the table, kicking him jokingly. 

“Maybe you’d be less grumpy now if you had tried it growing up.” Nodding in the direction of the milkshake, you bit into your own ice cream covered french fry. “Try it.”

Hesitantly, he grabbed another fry — pausing to put two more of his tater tots on your plate — and he dipped the fried potato into the milkshake, careful not to make any of the white, cold mixture spill out of the glass cup.

He took a bite. He raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise for a second, then, he tried to play it off by looking away, avoiding the sight of your amused smirk.

“You like it! I can tell,” you beamed. 

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can!”

Your lighthearted bickering session continued throughout your little date. After debating over the french fry and milkshake combination, you had challenged Levi to see who could tie a knot with the stem of the cherry from your milkshake using their tongue — the ultimate test of a good kisser.

It was endearing to see you this way. 

Watching you cover your mouth with your hand to hold back your loud but enduring laughter so as to not bother the other guests. Listening to you ramble on and on about different topics, such as why french fries should have been considered gourmet food, and at one point, you even told him about your play. He could see the passion in your eyes — the shy nature of sharing something that meant so much to you. Neither the topic of music nor acting had ever made your eyes sparkle like they were now.

And he was honored that you felt comfortable enough to tell him about your real passion: writing.

At one point, hours later, you and Levi had both sat in the diner for so long, that the owner had gone home and his daughter took over for her shift. The other guests had left too, and according to Levi’s watch, it was around midnight.

But neither you nor Levi had grown bored of being in each other’s presence for long. 

Not only had you shared your passions with Levi, but he started to open up as well. 

You asked him about his childhood.

He gave you as much detail as he could, even if he struggled to maintain eye contact as he did so.

He told the story of his beginnings as a boy without a father and a mother who was a sex worker. He touched on the topics of being raised and abandoned by his uncle, joining the military to combat poverty, and then helping out the boy whose parents adopted his cousin form a proper band, and assisting that boy’s friend with the launch of his record label.

When he brought up Hange and Erwin, his two best friends, he smiled.

Once you and Levi eventually left the diner after getting lost in time, he dropped you off at Reiner’s house.

It was drastically different from his own — not necessarily in terms of size, as the place was huge, making it obvious that the man wanted to have a lot of kids someday or intended for his relatives to stay over often — but his home looked like someone plucked a mansion out of the suburbs somewhere in the south and put it in the middle of Los Angeles.

The memory of seeing Reiner star in one of those house-building shows on HGTV several years ago suddenly appeared in Levi’s mind. He remembered skipping through the commercials about it. 

But it all made sense. Reiner probably had his home built specifically for him and his Tennessee-like, big family-seeking needs.

There were so many things he wanted to say before you got out of his car, shut the passenger door, and walked through Reiner’s front door. 

He wanted to tell you that you could live with him again if you wanted. He wanted to ask you out again and plan your next date immediately. He wanted . . . everything with you. 

But for now, he didn’t say a word.

—

— NEARLY TWO WEEKS LATER —

For the most part, your days consisted of the same routine.

Reiner would drop you off at the hospital to visit Eren. Levi would pick you up some nights, and you’d spend time together, going on brief walks in areas deemed as safe from prying eyes and pointed guns, and occasionally, you’d both stop by that lovely diner. 

You both made it a goal to try everything on the menu at least once. The old man beamed adorably whenever the bell above the door would ring, and he’d see you both walk in. You and Levi reminded him of his youthful days when he too was in love with someone. 

After your evenings out, Levi would drop you off at Reiner’s house, leaving the blonde-haired man conflicted, as he was happy to see you smiling again, but heartbroken that he wasn’t the cause of it. 

There was no greater misery than being roommates with someone you were once married to.

On an ordinary Thursday afternoon, you found yourself in Eren’s hospital room once again. His recovery was quite extraordinary. He could function like a regular person. Within the next few days, he would finally be allowed to go home. 

“Erennn,” you called out with a bit of a whine, shoes clicking against the mopped floor as you rushed over to his big window and pulled the curtains open, letting the pretty afternoon sun cast its colorful orange and yellow rays into his room. “You have the nicest view in the entire hospital. You should open your curtains more often. Just look at the sky.”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Eren said curiously, his sharp eyes watching you as he sat in his chair. He moved the acoustic guitar from his lap and leaned it against the wall. Trying to play it only reminded him of what he lost — two of his fingers and a friend. 

“Is it ‘cause of Levi?”

Growing up, Eren had always been told several facts about his face — that it was perfect. Beautiful, according to science. Even now, the golden sunlight shined upon his gorgeous face, and it made him look like a god had spent an incredible amount of time crafting him. But, he had also been told that he was quite expressive as well, unable to hide even the slightest displeasure.

Everyone could always tell when he was pissed off, irritated, happy, or upset.

During those moments when he wasn’t glaring at someone with utter hatred, he, oddly enough, had a love stare as well. 

Where most people had blank or neutral expressions while interacting with others, Eren tended to stare at the ones he cared for like he was madly in love with them — he couldn’t help it.

It drove his fans crazy too. The way he’d look at every fan as if they were his soulmate, and they would blush and giggle.

And when he looked at you, well, his eyes would soften then too. But there was no mistaking that the love glistening within his gaze was real.

That’s how he was looking at you now. With that love stare.

But there was something else flickering in his eyes as well.

Jealousy and pain.

“How’d you hear about that?” You questioned, walking over to sit on his hospital bed — a bed he absolutely despised because laying down was his least favorite thing to do in such a creepy place.

“Reiner told me.” Eren shrugged. “I don’t think he meant to, but I couldn’t speak well, so he was running his mouth to try to fill the silence. You know how many people do that? They start rambling when it gets too quiet. I know so many secrets now, like my aunt Beth — you remember her, right? — well, she believed in Santa Claus until she was fourteen. Oh, and my mom never made homemade marinara sauce growing up. It was store-bought. She lied. But anyway, yeah. Reiner told me.”

“Oh,” with a gentle smile, you said, “Well, it’s not like I was trying to keep it a secret. I just didn’t know if there was anything to tell. Me and Levi aren’t . . . we don’t have any sort of title. With me still trying to get a divorce, and everything going on . . . I just don’t want to worry too much about romance right now, you know what I mean? All I know is that I like our little dates. It’s a good distraction from . . . everything else.”

Feeling his heart shatter into pieces was almost as painful as getting shot in the chest.

“He’s fucking lucky,” Eren mumbled, frowning a bit. “I’m happy you’re happy, it’s nice to see you smile, but I’m not giving up on you just yet.” 

With a little laugh, you shook your head.

“Eren, you’re worried about the wrong thing. Now isn’t the time for you to be jealous, okay?”

Eren turned his head away from you. Truthfully, the sight of his jealousy-driven antics made your heart skip a beat — the very heart that Eren would always have a place in, even if he didn’t own it.

“Eren,” you called out once again, leaning to the right until your elbow was pressed against the mattress. “Can you look at me please?”

He didn’t mean to act like a child. Truly, he didn’t. He hated himself for it. Armin had just died. You were in the middle of trying to divorce a monster. You were dealing with financial troubles and a lack of privacy from the rest of the world.

The last thing he wanted was to make you feel guilty over being around someone who made you forget your troubles, even for a couple of hours every night, especially when he was genuinely happy for you.

But he couldn’t help it.

He had his fair share of past relationships, hookups, and regrets. At one point, Hollywood could have given him the infamous heartbreaker title, just as they did you. 

But everything changed when he fell in love with you. No longer was he that rebellious rockstar who fucked supermodels and didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. 

He was now the kind of person who found himself blushing when you stared into his eyes. The kind of person who’d both kill and die for you. The kind of person who would do anything you wanted.

And he ruined it by both letting you go and pushing you away.

“I wish I never let that assrat force me into divorcing you,” Eren glared at the floor. “I wanted us to go to therapy — did you know that?”

“Yeah. I did. Connie made you leave me.” 

You recalled the memory of you, long ago, begging Eren to stay with you after you cheated on him with Jean.  

What a time.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You tried again. “Please don’t be jealous.”

After your plea didn’t work, you took matters into your own hands. You leaned off of the bed, grabbed the arms of his wheelchair, and rolled him over toward you. Still, he tried to avoid your gaze, but it was rather difficult with you being so close. 

“Eren, if you don’t look at me, I swear on my mom that I’ll . . .” you paused, pursing your lips. “Okay, I can’t think of anything, so can you just look at me?”

He couldn’t hide his laughter, nor did he want to. 

But, finally, his eyes made contact with yours.

“About time,” you smiled. 

“Why did me not looking at you bother you so much? I don’t get it.”

“Because I thought you were going to die, so . . . I guess I like to look at you as much as I can now. I couldn’t see your eyes for weeks, remember? And losing you would ruin me in ways I can’t even say.”

Your mind drifted back to that night at the bridge.

“Y/N,” Eren ran his hand over his face. For a second, you thought he knew about your dark day, and your heart skipped a beat once again, this time in utter panic.

“You can’t say shit like that to me,” Eren groaned. “How can you tell me not to be jealous and then say-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” interrupting him, you reached forward, grabbing his jaw gently, and rather playfully. “We’re not gonna talk about any of that right now, okay? There are more important things to focus on. For example, you could be getting discharged in a few days, which is a really big deal for a lot of reasons, and your safety is the top priority. You’re gonna have to put up with plenty of bodyguards for now, but it won’t be so bad. I’ll be around to help you out. So will your family, of course.”

“Fine,” Eren mumbled, but then, he suddenly grinned — as best as he could with your fingers pressing into his cheeks, at least. “What do you wanna do today, then? I can kick your ass at U.N.O, we can watch a movie-”

“Kick my ass?” You moved his head back and forth before releasing your grip on his jaw. “Since when?”

“Since before you started cheating. You shuffle the deck in a way that gives you all the draw fours, and I think you hide all the skip cards under your leg,” Eren was grinning even brighter than before. 

“Hush before I shuffle you.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Eren called out, laughing softly as you rose from your spot on the hospital bed to grab the deck of U.N.O cards from your purse. 

“It means I’ll give you an extended hospital stay.”

For a while, you and Eren proceeded to play cards and bicker until it was time for you to leave.

Tonight, you and Levi didn’t have any plans, but you had grown rather concerned when you checked your phone and saw that he hadn’t messaged you yet.

—

One day later, you and Levi found yourselves standing outside of the private hospital exit once again after visiting Eren and the Yeager family. 

Levi had prepared baked chicken and a green bean casserole for them, as poor Carla didn’t have the time or the energy to cook nowadays.

As you waited for Reiner to arrive, you smiled at Levi, and he grinned back, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He spoke before you could question it.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.” With much intensity, Levi stared into your eyes. “Not here, though.”

Reiner’s expensive, dark green pick-up truck came into view, his car slowing to a complete stop.

When you didn’t hop in immediately, Reiner rolled down the passenger seat window.

“Hey Levi,” he greeted. He looked at him, then at you. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, um,” you stepped closer toward the rolled-down window. “Do you mind if Levi comes back to your place with us? He said he needs to talk. It’s really important.”

“Of course, I don’t mind,” Reiner smiled softly. 

Although, in his heart, he wanted to be your one and only, part of him was relieved to see that you and Levi had worked through your situation, only because if something had happened to himself at the hands of Connie, you’d have someone else to depend on.

—

It wasn’t long before the three of you were in Reiner’s living room. For extra privacy, Reiner asked his bodyguards to stand outside for a while.

Levi sat down in a chair across from the couch, which is where Reiner lounged, while you sprawled out on the bay window bench — your favorite spot in the entire world right now.

“What’s going on?” You asked Levi. “You’re worrying me.”

“I put a lot of thought into what you said, Y/N.” Levi shifted around in his seat. “The police don't care what you and Eren have to say, not when Connie’s making them rich. Every day, the situation dies down more and more, and soon enough, Connie won’t just get away with murder, but with everything he’s done to everyone. And he’ll keep doing it.”

“You’re right,” you mumbled. “He’s completely lost it, too. I’m worried he’ll come back and try to kill Eren again, or . . . any of us. That maybe he’ll change his mind about leaving me alive. We’re all living in fear.”

“What are you suggesting?” Reiner asked Levi, leaning forward until his arms were resting on his around his knees.

“We need to draw Connie out. I have a plan.” 

“What is it?” 

Levi looked over at you as you spoke. He looked you in the eye with that unreadable expression you’ve grown to both love and hate. Casually, he said, “We need to get married.”

♡ — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

🎟: @consuming-karma @lilvampirina @okaystopwhore @chrollohearttags @nanamochii @bunny2612 @cupids-soul @crazychaoticizzy @ramonathinks @averysmolbear @seishirogf @6sakusa @levin4nami @chaotic-on-main @sad-darksoul @gwapbby @katestrophes @ventdavi154 @lovelyless-fiction @svftackerman @musegonemad @moonmalice @inciteterr0r @honeybleed @zeninsbitch @purple-milk24 @itzgabz22 @mooomuu @micafecitoconpan @beaniebanby @anonymousme23 @theitchbbbb @skit-brentfaiyaz @princessos-blog @elliesbabygirl @the-mrs-steve-harrington @kittenbabe00 @magictrump @hetalia-tumbler @hon3y-c0mb @bol0-de-morang0 @thisisketchy @yoongirecs @allofffmypeaches @sasha-glass @getwaves @deluluvibes @p3nislawd @emery-333

[luna-andra]

StepDad!König Headcanons (SFW & Wholesome) ✨

Image @cozyhuii (@miss_bozo on Twitter)

Headcanons I thought up of König being a step daddy to reader's kid

A/N: Y'all got my very first König headcanon list to 600+ notes earlier today and I had to pump this one out. I had been in a writing rut for a while (still kind of am? But I'm finding my way back) and this is my way of showing my gratitude. StepDad!König originally was something I did for me (König being step daddy to my kid? YES PLEASE) but I made this gender neutral (& gn kid) like the other ones 🖤

Domesticated!König Series: Part 1 Part 2

I write other stuff too! Masterlist here 🖤

👑 His reaction was the better outcome you had thought up when König found out you had a kid from a previous relationship. Why would that deter him from continuing to date you? He was a man that didn’t view single parents as “spoiled goods”, and would quite frankly curb stomp someone if they heard them refer to you as such.

👑 He was aware of the possibility of you postponing and rescheduling dates, and unfortunately they did happen. “Sitter canceled? No problem.” “Mom/Dad bailed on their weekend? I get it.” You were so relieved by his patience and empathy for the times plans would fall through.

👑 It was clear to König that you were going to hold off on introducing him to your child. He had great respect for that rule, it meant you were very keen on not having a revolving door of people coming in and out of that kid’s life.

👑 As time went on, he would always show an active interest in your child by asking how they are doing in school? Did they still like [insert movie/TV show here]? He hoped they liked the treats he had bought at the PX on base.

👑 But the one time you seemed extremely defeated and bummed out about another postponed date, he took his chance and threw out the idea of hanging out - the three of you - at your house. You hesitated, but it had been nearly long enough for you to be okay with it. The guilt weighed on you considering it had been a hot minute since the two of you had any time for each other. König was such a sweetheart, reassuring you that this is how he wanted to spend his time, with you and your kiddo.

👑 Almost every date after that became an outing with the three of you. He was referred to as Onkel König by your child, a title that warmed his gigantic heart.

👑 Came to every sports game/martial arts competition/band or orchestra event/etc. Became as active as the bio mom/dad (if they were still around) in their extra-curricular activities. He didn’t want to miss a single thing.

👑 Speaking of bio mom/dad/ex-spouse, he made the conscious effort to be acquainted with them if they were still present in Kiddo’s life. As long as they were cordial, so was König.

👑 Spoiled the hell out of Kiddo for Christmas and birthdays. They wanted for nothing and sometimes you hated it but were also thankful that he has come to love a child that originally wasn’t his.

👑 We all know König is of older age given his rank of Colonel. It’s so funny when he has to ask you about lingo the younger kids use. “What is bussies and why do they want to go there so much?” That was fun explaining it to König as his face grew intensely pink at his ignorance. It’s best if he comes to you every time he hears something new fly out of that kid’s mouth.

👑 He always used German terms of endearment for the both of you, and Kiddo picked up German the more time they spent with König. It forced you to learn too (you were already learning but you were putting in extra hours after bedtime to stay ahead of them).

👑 100% a prankster. And oh god… did it get out of hand quickly. You had to sit both of them down to scold them about putting soy sauce in your coffee when you weren’t looking; that was the final straw. No one messes with the morning coffee. 

👑 Came home with a puppy from the animal shelter because Kiddo got an A on their test (failed to mention to König that it was a test they had already got rewarded for).

👑 The only time you ever saw this man cry was at Kiddo’s graduation. They said to their friends “Can you take a picture of me with my Dad? He showed up in uniform for this.” He held it together for the event, but let the tear loose on the way home.

Likes & reblogs are always appreciated! Asks are opened for requests & ideas for others. Might do some for Ghost in the future ✨

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie taking home (her home) a very drunk Y/N Harrington, and Steve being pissed off because his sister is very drunk, and later talking with Eddie about him letting her sister getting drunk, and Eddie being protective of his gf and Y/N just making faces to Steve and then going to her bedroom to sleep with Eddie

This is really funny and I think I'll have fun writing it :) a little blurb filled with laughs and love

Drunk Harrington

"Baby, I need you to walk," Eddie instructed, his arm wrapped around Y/N as he helped her walk. Her body was dead weight against him, her breath that smelled like alcohol smacking his nose every time she breathed out of her mouth.

"But I don't feel my legs." She whined, trying to focus on feeling the pavement underneath her bare feet. Eddie carried her heels in his other hand, keeping her upright as he knocked on her front door.

"Steve is going to be so pissed. His eyebrows get all scrunched up and he'll point at you like a teacher does while he scolds someone. He's funny." Y/N laughed to herself, the image of Steve in her brain causing her to laugh more.

"Very funny, until he has my ass." Eddie groaned.

"STEVE!" Y/N cheered loudly once he opened the door. Steve's eyes scanned her head to toe. Her eyes were red, she leaned on Eddie like her balance depended on it, and she swayed.

"You got her drunk? Are you kidding me?" Steve snapped towards Eddie, grabbing his sister from Eddie's arms. She stumbled into Steve, latching on to his arm as she tried to stay on her feet. He walked her into the house and sat her on the couch, Eddie following in from behind.

"I didn't get her drunk. She's a big girl, she chose to get drunk." Eddie scoffed, Steve stood in front of him, Y/N mostly blocked behind him.

"Probably because her idiot boyfriend brought her to a party! Did you just leave her there while you did your little drug business? What if something happened to her while she WAS PISSED OFF DRUNK!" Steve yelled, Y/N covered her ears at his volume.

"You think I'm an asshole? No! I didn't leave my girlfriend alone and I don't do my business with her around. Nothing happened because I was with her the entire time. She just wanted to have fun, Steve. I kept her safe and even got her home before curfew!" Eddie defended.

Steve huffed and paced back and forth. Y/N came into Eddie's eyesight as Steve paced. She was using her hands to mock him and mouthed his words. Eddie tried to hide his smile as Steve continued his rant. All of it went out his ears, as he watched Y/N make faces behind Steve's back.

"And she co- ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?" Steve snapped, noticing Eddie's eyes were directed behind him and a stupid smile that he was trying to hide under his hand.

Steve turned around to see Y/N, sitting silently with her hands in her lap. Steve eyed her suspiciously, telling Eddie to sit next to her so he could watch the both of them.

Steve started his rant towards Y/N, she rolled her eyes as he went on and on.

She started to make faces at him, too drunk to realize she was mocking him to his face. Eddie laughed and joined in.

The couple sat together and made faces at Steve as he lectured them. Y/N stuck out her tongue, using her hands to make antlers on the top of her head.

Eddie laughed and copied her. Then started to make animal noises.

"MOOOOOOO"

"You two are unbelievable!" Steve groaned, his hands in his hair as he gave up. He marched out of the room.

"Alright. Playtime is over, time we go to sleep." Eddie said, standing up and grabbing her hands. She stumbled into his arms as he started walking them to her room.

"Maybe we can annoy him with other kinds of sounds in my bedroom," Y/N whispered, her lips on Eddie's neck.

"My favorite type of game," Eddie smirked, smacking her ass as she giggled and ran to her room. Eddie prayed she wouldn't trip over her own feet.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[spopsalt]

How to show and how not to show a serious topic, Hazbin Hotel and Rick and Morty comparison.

WARNING THIS POST CONTAINS GRAPHIC DECEPTIONS AND DISCUSSIONS OF S//A AND ASSAULT TOWARDS MINORS. IT IS ALL FICTION. IF ANY OF THESE ARE TRIGGERING FEEL FREE TO LEAVE

So I was watching Rick and Morty Meseeks and Destroy and it baffled me how they handled a sensitive subject much better than Hazbin Hotel. Let's start off by Hazbin Hotel's depiction shall we? For context for those who don't know, Angel Dust is a porn star who gets s//a by his boss Val for what seems to be in the regular. This is shown in a song with very suggestive lyrics while he is heavily sexualized. Feels a lot like fetish content.

But that's not even the worst part, there are s//a scenes made by someone who fetishizes s//a. Warning these images are graphic and can be triggering. These are also randomly shown throughout the song, they also give no warning for this so you can't even fully skip the scene since its not one scene.

And they also joke about s//a in a later episode,which I like dark humor,but make it make sense. What do you want people to take seriously?

Now, how does Rick and Morty handle it? They do show a different subject,with Morty nearly getting violated by Mr. Jellybean. You may not need context since this scene did get popular,but Morty made a bet with Rick that they could do a simple, fun adventure. Morty is around 14 while Rick appears to be in his late 50s early 60s.Rick agrees to the bet and they go on the adventure. They do make a joke about r*pe but it is done by Rick which is in character with him being cycincal and this was done before the scene.

Now eventually they are walking down steps and Morty stops by the bathroom. In the bathroom he meets Mr. Jellybean.He appears to be nice which shows how predators aren't obvious. They normally seem nice

Now everything seems fine, but then Mr. Jellybean gets...touchy. Morty gets uncomfortable and attempt to leave but Mr. Jellybean forces him to stay.

Now this is where the triggering scene starts, trigger warning. Nothing happens thank god due to Morty being able to fight him off. And the scene, while triggering can be skipped easily since it's one scene as a whole.

This scene was made to show how horrifying attempted r*pe is. There is a dark joke about how Rick is having a good time but this does fit with the show's dark humor

I do believe they should've put a trigger warning,but that's my only complaint about the scene in general. Morty goes out of the bathroom and begs Rick to just go home, Morty cries for the first time in the series and it's really easy to feel bad for the poor kid who was clearly traumatized.

Rick catches onto what happens and choices to comfort the kid, arguably the biggest piece in the show is nice for the first time here.

This cheers Morty up for the moment until they see Mr Jellybean again and Morty immediately leaves with Rick.

He does eventually get his karma shortly after by getting shot by Rick

Rick and Morty handled this better by not sexualizing their character while spreading awearness, treating the situation seriouslt and showing how horrifying it is, and not getting some who fetishizes r*pe to make the scene. We also get to see the biggest piece of shit in the show be nice for the first time. It shows how predators often come off as nice. This is definitely the darkest I'll ever get with my posts, but I hope you enjoyed reading it and agreed with me.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie and Steve slept together for the first time before Eddie left to travel with his band. Was it a weird time to start a relationship? Sure, but Eddie was just glad it happened at all. He called from the road as often as he could. It was a few weeks later that Eddie received a phone call from Steve. He had sounded off, so Eddie dropped everything and started heading back to Hawkins. He decided to surprise Steve with his favorite flowers.

Eddie crept into the house carefully, tip toeing, so he didn't make a sound. He heard voices coming from the living room. It sounded like Robin. Eddie grinned and crept closer, making sure he stayed hidden. Their conversation prevented him from jumping out.

"Okay, we're really going to do this," Steve said with a sigh. "Yeah, I'm pregnant. I got knocked up by Eddie."

"I knew it!" Robin said with a dramatic grasp. "I just want you to know that I'm not mad that you've made me a godmother at such a young age. I'm here for you. So, like what are you going to do?"

"I'm keeping the baby. I just don't know how I'm going to tell Eddie," Steve said. "He's been having such a fun time traveling with his band. I don't want to railroad that."

"Wait. . .you're serious," Robin said. "Um, okay, well, Eddie loves you, so I know for a fact that it wouldn't kill him that you're having his baby."

Eddie's eyes widened, and he crept out of the house. He ran towards his van and drove off, missing the other half of the conversation.

"I'm not fucking pregnant, Robin!" Steve yelled. "It's food poisoning."

"So, it's just a coincidence that you're getting sick a few weeks after having sex with Eddie?" Robin asked, narrowing her eyes. "Especially knowing how much you want to have kids."

"So, you think that I just willed it into existence?" Steve asked and then paused. "You know, my menstrual cycle was a little late this month."

"Really?!"

"No! I don't have a menstrual cycle, Robin!"

". . .is it because you're pregnant?"

"Robin!"

"Don't be so hormonal, Steven."

Meanwhile, Eddie had pulled off to the side of the road. He was freaking out, and it had nothing at all to do with the fact that he had driven all night, so he wasn't thinking straight. Steve was pregnant. Steve was having his baby. How in the fuck did this happen? The only way this could have happened would be because of the bat bites. They changed them, and now they could get pregnant. Oh God, does this mean that Eddie would have to start taking birth control?

"Focus, Munson," Eddie said and slapped his face. "This isn't about you. This is about Steve."

He drove off to the store and thought about the fact that he was going to be a dad. He smiled at the image of himself laying his head on Steve’s big belly and then of them holding their baby. Eddie hollered as he skipped into the store and went to the counter.

"Give me your biggest fucking bear," Eddie said with a grin.

"Uh, celebrating, sir?" The clerk asked.

"I'm going to be a daddy!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Congratulations, sir."

As he started walking out with his purchase, Dustin's head popped out from the aisle.

"Eddie?!"

Eddie strolled into Steve’s house, the bear in his arms.

"Honey, I'm home!" Eddie exclaimed, bursting into the living room.

"Eddie?!"

Steve grinned in surprise. He was laid on the couch, curled up under a blanket, while Robin sat in the recliner next to him.

"You sounded off on the phone, so I drove all night to come and see you," Eddie said, dropping to the floor next to him. "I'm yours now and forever."

"Aww," Robin said.

"You sound like you're proposing," Steve sniffled. "Is that bear for me?"

"If you want me to propose, but I'd want us to get married for the right reasons, you know, not just because I knocked you up," Eddie said.

"Wait. What?" Steve asked.

"I know, sweetheart. I overheard you when I came in here earlier, and I want you to know that I so want to be involved," Eddie said.

"I told you that I heard someone!" Steve exclaimed, sitting up. "Eddie, you heard half of that conversation. Did you miss the part where I told Robin I am not pregnant?"

"I am so tired," Eddie whined. "And I thought the bats. . ."

"Gave you guys babies instead of rabies?" Robin asked, and Eddie nodded.

"Shit, you did say you drove all night," Steve said. "Baby, get up here."

Eddie climbed on the couch behind him, dropping the bear, and buried his face into the pillow.

"Are you sure you're not pregnant?" Eddie asked sleepily.

"Do I need to take a fucking pregnancy test?" Steve asked, mostly to himself.

"It wouldn't hurt," Robin said.

Steve flipped her off as Eddie's snores drifted through the air. He laid down next to him and threw the blanket over the blanket over them.

"Robin. . .," Steve said slowly. "Are you being this way because you're obsessed with the Godfather, and you want to be the Godmother?"

". . .No."

Steve did not believe her.

Part two

[milaisreading]

Can you do something for Hetalia Valentine's Day? The Axis and Allies are arguing with each other about being y/n's Valentine's date. While they are arguing Sealand goes to y/n's house with flowers on his hands and he is wearing a cute suit. When y/n opened the door Sealand asked y/n to be his Valentine date. Y/n found him so cute and she agreed. How would the Axis and Allies going to react after seeing this?

🌱🩷: Hii! Thank u for the request and happy Valentine's Day! Hope u like this! I had a lot of fun while writing!

Warning: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open!

🌍Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya🌏

"Achoo!" (Y/n) let out a loud sneeze, causing Finland and Denmark to look at her in surprise.

"Are you alright?" Finland wondered as he handed her a tissue.

"Did you get sick or something?" Denmark chimed in as he checked her temperature, which was normal as he could conclude.

"I am fine. I just think someone is gossiping about me, you know." She joked as the two looked at her in confusion.

"Weird."

"Yeah. Who would gossip about you?"

The country shrugged her shoulders, unsure what to answer them back.

'I just hope it's not Belarus scheming something! I already said I have no interest in Russia!' (Y/n) thought in fear, but tried to brush that image out of her head.

"I dunno. By the way, I am off to meet up with Belgium and her brothers. Have fun staying at home."

"Stay safe!"

"Call us if you need anything!"

Before she could answer back, there was a knock on the door and (Y/n) went to open it.

"Yes? Huh?" She stopped while looking down at a bouquet with red roses while Sealand was grinning up at her.

"Happy Valentine's Day! Please be my Valentine!"

"Huh... Sealand..." She muttered in confusion as the boy stared at her.

Meanwhile, the country was partially right with her assumptions. Eight countries were talking about (Y/n), just not in the way she expected it to be.

"You?! What makes you think you are compatible for (Y/n)?!" America yelled, pointing at Russia. The two countries were never on good terms ever since the Cold War started, now with Valentine's Day being right around the corner, and both going after the same country things got much more tense.

"And I don't see what makes you think we are not. (C/n) and I do share some history with each other. Meanwhile, you are just a little kid compared to me. Why would she want you?" Russia laughed as America got into his face.

"And you creep her out! Weren't you the reason she isolated herself to begin with?! Also, my present is way better!"

Meanwhile, Germany was glaring at Italy, who was fawning over the present he had prepared for (Y/n), which was a painting he painted for her.

"Ve~ I am sure mia bella will love this! I can't wait for her saying yes to being my Valentine-"

"Hold up, Italy! Who said she will agree to be you Valentine! I have a gift for her as well." Germany interrupted the Italian, who frowned at his words.

"Because my present is just better. And besides, I am the one who is more of a passionate person than you are." Italy giggled as he saw Germany's face turn red in anger.

"That means nothing! My gift is just as good!"

"I have to disappoint you on the last part, mon ami Italy." France laughed as he held England back from chocking him.

"After all, I am the country of romance and love. She will definitely pick me." France boasted as the German and Italian glared at the man.

"You?! You pervert have absolutely no chance! Didn't you scare (Y/n) the last time you saw each other!"

"That was months ago!" France said with a red face.

"And besides, she would rather have a gentleman, like me."

The four started arguing among each other as Japan and China looked at them with unamused expressions.

"They are so loud, aiyah! Stupid Westerners." China exclaimed as he covered up his ears. Japan silently nodded his head.

"And this whole argument is useless as well. (Y/n) will definitely pick me. I always cook her good meals."

Now this was something Japan wouldn't stay silent on as he sent the older nation a glare.

"You? Aren't you too old for this? Besides, (Y/n) likes me more than you. We have a lot of common interests as well."

"You?! Don't make laugh, Japan! You can barely look her in the eyes, let alone confess anything! I will be her Valentine!"

"Dream on." The two Asian countries were about to start arguing as well, but got interrupted by Sealand walking into the living room, looking at all of them in confusion.

"Why are you old people arguing now?" The countries tensed up and looked back at the micronation, who was holding a box with some sweets inside.

"Nothing a kid like you should know about." Russia smiled, causing Sealand to shiver in fright.

"Stop scaring him. He is still a kid." Germany warned as Italy hid behind him. Sealand pouted at that when England spoke up.

"What did you need? You usually only come to me when you need something."

The micronation looked back at the former empire as the rest looked between them.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to say that France's idea on how to woo someone over worked. I just had to act cute, and got a Valentine and sweets from her." The other countries stared at him in confusion as France laughed.

"Well of course it will work when you listen to me! So, your little lady friend likes you back?"

"Hold up! Since when do you have a crush?" England questioned as America and China chimed in.

"We could have totally helped you out, dude!"

"Besides, I am the oldest around here. If anyone knows how to treat a woman, that would be me." Que Japan rolling his eyes at China.

"Nah. I was fine like this. And Ms. (C/n) didn't say directly she likes me back, but she gave me sweets and said the flowers were nice." Sealand said as the countries froze in their spots.

"(Y/n)... you asked her out?" Italy asked as his face got pale.

"Yup! In a few years she might agree to be my Valentine for real! But for now, the sweets she gave me will do.' Sealand cheered as he left the room.

Immediately after he left, Japan took his phone out to call (Y/n), which was an action that didn't go unnoticed by Italy, China, and America.

"Hey! Put her on speaker!"

"She is making a huge mistake! She can't wait for Sealand to grow up God knows when!"

"Ve~ I am a way better pick!"

Meanwhile, Russia, Germany, and England were glaring daggers at France, who was both mad and frightened.

"I will give you 10 seconds, da?"

"You are too kind, I am giving him 5 seconds."

"Both of you gits are wrong! Kill him now!"

"Wait! I had no idea who he liked!"

Meanwhile, with (Y/n)....

Belgium pouted as she declined Japan's call for the 5th time while Luxembourg looked at her in amusement.

"You know, she will find out what you did, big sis."

"I am fine with her knowing. As long as her and Netherlands get together, I am saying this was a worth sacrifice."

The two siblings looked back at the said 2 countries. One looked like struggling to say coherent sentences, while the other one had his usual stoic look.

"It doesn't look all too well." Luxembourg chuckled as Belgium sighed in frustration.

"Don't worry! I am sure big brother will catch on to it and be the perfect gentleman! He even bought her hot chocolate." Belgium smiled as the two silently looked at (Y/n) and Netherlands. The girl's face was a dark shade of red as Netherlands stared at her intensely.

"You know...."

Luxembourg and Belgium held their breaths as the oldest spoke up.

"That hot chocolate costed me around 4 euros. Please pay it back when you can."

The two watched in disbelief as he said that and (Y/n) started to scramble for her wallet.

"O-oh! Sure, no worries!"

"Is he nuts?!" Belgium silently yelled as Luxembourg stared at his brother in annoyance.

"Money rules the world for him..."

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: after the dreammaster tells him the bad news, sunday is left alone with his thoughts and his work. ❀ ˎˊ- sunday character study ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 753 ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: major 2.2 spoilers, mental breakdowns/panic attacks, mentions of injuries and war ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: ive spoiled sunday too much it's time for him to suffer to keep equilibrium 🗿 anyways this isn't a reader insert but rather a character study (i was going to do an essay but this is more fun) so yippee enjoy <3 ❀ ˎˊ- img credits

Pen scratched against paper like nails on a chalkboard. The angel’s gloved hand gripped it with enough force to shatter a small bird’s neck, slashing signature after signature onto the pages upon pages of official paperwork, Penacony’s need and his shackles.

The paper could've been a death certificate and he would've signed it. His golden eyes scanned each page within seconds, forgetting its contents by the time he signed it and moved onto the next. There was only one thought on his mind - there was only room for one thought.

Robin- Robin, Robin, Robin. His mind was his worst enemy, conjuring horrific images of her fate.

Bloody- No, Mr. Wood said she was at a hospital now, so she should be fine- she should've been fine when he let her leave. There never should've been a gunman, never should've been a war, never should've been a damned bullet in her neck-

He should've never let her go- he should've convinced her to stay, there were many ways to be a singer without having to leave Penacony, the Internet didn't exist for no reason but she insisted, she wanted to go, she wanted to fly, she wanted to experience the world so why didn't she tell him that she was going into a warzone?

She should've told him- no, she must've known that he wouldn't have let her go, but what kind of older brother would let his kid sister go off into a battlefield? Especially since things like this would happen, and-

CRACK!

Sunday barely registered the ink running down his hand, staining it a deep, deep black. He saw the black seep into whatever paper he was working on. Somewhere in the back of his head, he cursed it, cursed that stupid pen, cursed himself for being careless, but again and again, those thoughts were washed out by his imagined image of his weakened and vulnerable sister barely hanging onto life as she breathed through a machine, light years away from home.

His chest hurt. Was he hyperventilating? Maybe. Probably. High-pitched ringing like a siren filled his ears - he couldn't even hear his own breath. Something pricked - no, stabbed, it hurt more than he'd initially thought - in his hand, likely his pen. Was he bleeding? He hoped not, but honestly, he couldn't care less right now. No matter how much pain he was in, it was nothing compared to the agony that Robin must be experiencing.

Mr. Gopher Wood’s words echoed in his mind.

Following the Odes of Harmony… that was what led Robin on that path. He understood her desires to help the weak, of course he did - he too wished to help humanity, who couldn't help themselves. But like this? By extending assistance to the pitiful and weak humanity, whose only goal was to survive, who would only take advantage of her kindness? By making herself a target?

If she'd told him, he could've secured help for the refugees, he could've put in a request to take them into Penacony, he could've done anything, anything that wouldn't have ended with a bullet in her neck. But no, she decided to lie to him and didn't even bother to tell him of her injury.

He blinked wearily. He could feel his eye bags weighing down on his face. Tiredly, he stared at the dried ink that ruined his hand and his paperwork.

Why didn't Xipe protect her? Wasn't Robin one of Their most devoted acolytes?

He took off the stained glove, absentmindedly checking his hand for injuries. His gaze wandered back to the ruined paperwork, his signature half-signed and broken right at the sharp N.

Weak. That's what the Harmony was.

He stood up. Carefully, he picked up the ruined paper, reading over its contents.

Insignificant.

Its sender wasn't exactly important, either - just another despicable dog of the IPC, and not even a high-ranked one. He could just say that he'd never received it in the first place, and no one would dare to question him.

Taking leisurely steps, casting tall shadows in his wake, he held the paper over one of the many candles that lined his office, and watched indifferently as it caught flame. Within seconds, the paper was charred black, and then mere embers.

Numbly, he turned back to his desk, clicking his tongue at the remaining ink, pooled around a shattered pen.

He should clean it up, shouldn't he. The faster he got his paperwork done, the sooner he could see Robin.

And maybe, just maybe, he could then convince her to stay.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

tags: @sh0jun, @themoderatelyawesomeninja, @xphantasmagoriax, @rainswept, @lucensei

@akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace

[clovealopod]

OC-tober 2024 - Day 6: Past

I’m back with Sturgeon again for another day! Individuals of those first two images + ranting beneath the cut.

Baby!!

Sturgeon hatched without arms. Her parents and doctors were never really sure why, and despite being a regenerative species, new arms never grew in. Luckily this has never really hindered Sturgeon, as inklings are highly adaptable. At a young age, her parents started styling her tentacles to work as hands, which allowed Sturgeon to be just as capable of things like writing and other dexterous activities as other inklings her age. It was still a bit more of a struggle, and she still has some slight issues with dexterity, but it’s much better than if her parents hadn’t helped her get that freedom.

Teen :0

Sturgeon was so excited to leave home for the first time. She came from a small to mid sized commuter town. Out near Calamari County, but not as far as where the Squid Sisters are from. One of those towns that’s close enough that everyone goes on long drives for work, but far away enough that there’s no public transport, farms interspersed between the houses, and literally nothing going on.

City life was new and at first, kind of scary. She luckily got used to it quick, and was pretty decent at turf wars. Still, she felt kind of lonely. In a place so full of people, it was surprisingly difficult for her to make connections. If asked today, Sturgeon wouldn’t be able to tell you if following Cuttlefish down the drain was the best or worst decision she ever made. Sure, she got friends and a support system out of it, they got more skilled with inkweapons, but… was it worth it? The fun version of war that regulated turf war offered was just… not realistic. And Sturgeon wasn’t fully prepared for the reality.

When Cuttlefish and Sturgeon disappeared during their scouting trip to Mount Nantai, Sturgeon’s parents became frantic with concern and fear. Their kid, their oldest kid who used to call almost every day, just straight up disappeared. She had told her parents in advance that she’d be on a trip with friends in an area with patchy service for a month, so at first it was okay, expected. But then a month passed, and then two, and then three, and there was nothing. After an entire year, when Cuttlefish, Eight, and Sturgeon got out of the deep sea metro, Sturgeon had lost her apartment and had no way to charge her phone. (Kind of a really poor choice on Cuttlefish's part to let her just... go of on her own. After all that. She should've been hospitalized much sooner). When Sturgeon was hospitalized a few days later (those few days were some of the worst of her life), her parents showed up almost immediately and found out about everything (and they absolutely grilled Cuttlefish…)

Sturgeon wanted to stay in the city. Her parents, being understandably scared for their safety, didn’t want her to be alone. Sturgeon stayed with her parents for a month. Their parents only let her go back to living in the city after Four (Rowan) and Eight (Attka) offered Sturgeon a place as their roommate. The first year or two after the deep sea metro was really rough on Sturgeon and Attka. But it got better. Sturgeon’s parents visited every week at first, eventually every month because they didn’t want to hover too much. Sturgeon didn’t return to turf wars or the NSS in general until she was 18.

[iwashie]

“LIFE IS SWEET AS VANILLA IS” BLLK FACULTY

📌 noel noa, marc snuffy, chris prince, lavinho, julian loki

･ﾟﾟ･｡ warnings- gn!reader, sugar bby!reader, sugar daddy!bllk faculty, 18+ characters, implicit mentions of alcohol, parties, marriage, sex, age gap, reader is cited as pretty/cute baby.

💵 “Would you be my baby tonight? I can be your baby tonight! All he wants to do is party with his pretty baby!” LAVINHO.

Don’t get attached to this man. All he wants is to party with the most beautiful and you are just another cute little face among several others in the middle of the party, feeling his arms around your waist and neck. He will kiss you in front of everyone at the party, in the park, in the dark night, anywhere. He is not afraid to show you, just like his other babies. His love is a nine-day wonder. The days with him are full of luxurious car rides to the most expensive places, expensive shopping, flash cameras here and there, laughter and make out in public, showing you off to everyone. The nights with him are full of desire, warm kisses, light hands, sweaty and glued bodies, moans and whispers, fun in public places like swimming pools, parking lots, against glass from ceiling to floor. Life with him is here and now, pure fun, golden and silver in everything, but don’t get attached because today he is with you and tomorrow he is with another. He has a catalog of cute sugar babies wanting a piece of him.

💵 “Money is the anthem of success and I’m your national success! Hand on the back of my neck. I say ‘Can we party later on?’, he said ‘yes, yes’. Heaven’s in your eyes. God, you’re so handsome!” CHRIS PRINCE.

Get used to the display. He loves to show off and will do the same to you, his hand always on your neck, showing belonging. You’re his alone. Life with him revolves around flash cameras, parties, expensive places, pictures of you two on the front page and all over the internet. He loves his beautiful baby and will do anything for you- mansion, jewelry, fame, cars, travel, expensive food and drink, whatever you want he gives you, he just asks you to be the coolest next to him. Your paradise is surrounded by strange voices and faces, golden and loud laughter. The fun never ends. You’ve found God in blue eyes, blonde hair, his money, and the flashbulbs of beautiful cameras—you’ve learned to like the display just like him. “Tell me, am I glamorous?” You being beautiful and staying with him, nothing else matters. Get ready for the photos on social media displaying the luxurious life and the perfect relationship of you. Images of the body can not miss. He likes yachts and water because he can show off his shaped body and cute baby by his side, his hand on your thigh and ass. The days and nights with him revolve around lights hovering over you. The fun with him is full of passionate kisses, hands on the body, some mark to show territory, but never exaggerated so as not to spoil the beauty of your body. Remember to smile and wave, cute baby.

💵 “Am that pretty that you dream of? All those little times your said I’m your pretty, you make me feel like your entire world. I can’t deny the way he holds my hand, and he grabs me. He has me by my heart.” NOEL NOA.

This man loves you with every bit of his body. He never looks at others because he has the baby he has always dreamed of by his side. He likes to keep your relationship private, but he took you on in a few months of dating and plans to marry you, have kids and a pet, have his family. Everything you ask, he gives you without problems, everything for his beloved. Life with him has flashes of cameras, clothes, cars, rides and rich parties, but he lives in the lull—likes to take you in private places or close the place to the two of you only. He’s a family man- he likes to spend time with you, whether it’s cooking, watching movies, talking, having dates at home like wine at night or just lying with you. The days, nights and fun with him are discreet, just the two of you and your spacious room or house, likes to shower together, calm kisses, strong hands, worship you as his only salvation, rough and passionate moments, sweaty and glued bodies, whispers and a lot of passion.

💵 “He loves me. He gives all his money. That Gucci, Prada, yacht, caviar and oysters, trips. He knows ho to spoil me, my sugar daddy.” JULIAN LOKI.

This man loves to show up with his young, beautiful baby. Ah, the rich youth. No one above his baby. It’s you and only you. A life full of parties, luxury, cars, trips, events, photos, good food and drink. Life surrounded by young money. He doesn’t care if you want things in private or public; he does everything you ask. The days and nights with him are full of rides, parties, rich people, engine noise from expensive cars in races and especially in F1, poses for photos with rich society, vacations on private islands, photos with champagne on the yacht, you on his lap and his hands on your leg, the white smile shining brighter than the jewels on your neck. The fun with him is calm and passionate, foreheads glued and holding hands, fervent kisses, full attention on his cute baby and how many times you put up with it.

💵 “In my dreams, I’ve a plan. If I got me a wealthy man… I’ve finally found you and my life is sweet as cinnamon. Heaven is a place on earth with you.” MARC SNUFFY.

This man loves you more than anything. He has the most beautiful baby next to him, but also a friend, a confidant, a future. You are much more than a cute face to be shown. He would create a money castle if you asked. Life with him is surrounded by old Italian money and the youth wealth- parties in any corner of the world with all kinds of people, but nothing like Sundays at home with family and friends. Holidays in Italy- car rides with your hair in the wind, yacht parties and Italian summer. He doesn’t mind showing affection in public, prefers private things, but can’t help the hand on your lower back and ass or a warm kiss here and there. You always appear together in the photos and you can show the shiny engagement ring. He likes quiet moments at home, just the two of you or people close to him, likes to dance around the house, old movies at night, your food and affection. The fun with him is calm and sensual, likes to have his time with you, calm kisses and strong hands, likes to leave marks on you and make you shiver with his touches, prefers a fun on four walls, but sometimes a quickie in a secluded place, in the car or in the water is also fun for him.

© iwashie 2023, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[sullustangin]

My Ship in 5 Minutes

Fiiiiinally posting this. It's been awhile since I gave Theron and Eva some meme time, so here's a refresher. Open image in new tab to read better.

Annotations below cut:

The age thing is due to the carbonite freeze; Eva didn't age while she was a popsicle.

How it happens: Yes, Theron fell hard, but Eva eventually fell harder.

Relationship attitude: Eva is pretty sure this is serious (but still fun), and she is free with affection. Theron has lost his mind (she is the one for him), yet would implode if she kissed him on duty.

Spoils the other: how do you spoil the woman who has everything and the man who wants nothing? You try where others gave up.

Eva wakes up and turns the caf maker on, every morning. Theron is actually the one who gets out of bed and stays out first.

Theron has lived as a Jedi youngling and in a government organization: he's had the tidiness drummed into him from a young age. Eva knows where everything is... the system just isn't obvious to anyone else.

The caregiver: Both of them are stubborn and independent, so letting someone really take care of them is a big deal.

Overprotective: Theron is obviously overprotective of Eva after she comes back.... but she's overprotective of him in more subtle ways. It's a new thing for him, especially since SIS didn't mind him coming home bruised up or traumatized.

Eva is making the things happen; Theron orchestrates the things.

Eva is on time. Not early. Not late.

Both deal with the bug; Eva kills it, Theron liberates it.

Theron overthinks things and has too much data sometimes. As he gets older, he's slower to speak. Eva will call the shot, based on gut, not data, and she's still got some youthful impulsiveness that Theron has shed.

Theron has systems that have guided him since he was a kid: the Force, the Galactic Constitution. He still believes in those ideals. Eva believes in credits and her people.

[adoreispunk]

Out Of Reach (joel miller au)

an: thank you guys for reading <33 this is so fun and I love getting notifications from here. enjoy;)

wc: 2.4k

content warning: MDNI 18+, fucking on the couch *chefs kiss*

masterlist⭐️ 12

twelve

The empty takeout containers were scattered across the coffee table, the lingering scent filling Joel's living room. I sat curled up on the couch, swallowed by one of his shirts. The soft, worn fabric smelled like him and a hint of his cologne. Joel lounged beside me, his broad frame sinking into the cushions, an old gray t-shirt stretched across his chest. The TV hummed in the background, some cheesy rerun of a '90s sitcom playing low, the canned laughter a strange but comforting backdrop to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

I tucked my legs under me, stealing a glance at Joel as he leaned back, one arm slung over the couch, his fingers grazing my shoulder. He looked relaxed, more at ease than I'd ever seen him. Seeing him at work, stressed, hunched over his piles of papers or carrying around heavy materials. That edge and craziness softened by the warm glow of the lamp and the comfort of the meal we'd just shared.

My stomach was full, my body still buzzing from earlier. Sitting here with him in his home felt so domestic. Like we were just another couple sharing a lazy Friday night, the world outside fading away. But we're not a couple. I don't even know what this is.

Joel caught my stare, his lips twitching into that half-smirk I couldn't get enough of. "What's that look for?"

I blushed, grabbing my water glass to cover it. "Nothing," I mumbled, taking a sip. "Just—this is nice. Food was good."

He hummed, his eyes lingering like he knew there was more to it. "Yeah." He hesitated for a beat. "Better with you here." I glanced at the TV, not sure how to respond even though I felt the same way.

Joel shifted and let out a breath, his arm brushing mine as he leaned forward to grab his glass. "Tommy would be all over this show." he said, nodding toward the TV, his tone light but tinged with nostalgia. "Used to watch crap like this with him when we were younger. He'd quote every damn line, thinkin' he was hilarious."

I turned to him, surprised by the mention of his brother. "Tommy?" I said, setting my glass down, curiosity sparking. "You guys liked this stuff?"

Joel's expression softened and he leaned back, hands clasping together over his knees. "Yeah, back when we were kids. Tommy was always the loud one, actin' out scenes, makin' me laugh. I just watched to keep him outta trouble." He paused, a small smile tugging at his lips, his eyes far off. "He's still like that. Always got some big idea."

His voice was warm, but there was a weight to it, like he was sharing something he didn't often put into words. I stayed quiet, soaking in every syllable.

“He’s always been the dreamer," he went on, his thumb rubbing absently over his knuckles. "It was just us and Sarah. I was the one holdin' it together. Bills, work, makin' sure Sarah had what she needed. He'd come up with these wild plans, like movin' us to California, startin' a band, whatever popped into his head." He chuckled, low and soft. "Drove me crazy, but it kept us going. Kept Sarah smiling."

My heart raced as my thoughts spiraled to Tommy and Sarah, a knot twisting in my gut at the thought of them discovering me and Joel. As Sarah's old friend, would she be as livid as my dad would be? The thought of her hurt, her trust in her dad, made my chest ache. And Tommy, I couldn't shake the image of him confronting Joel, his laughter turning to disapproval. I was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, the addictive nature of Joel's touch mixing with the terror of breaking the bonds he held with his family. The way he talked about her, about Tommy, carried so much love.

He paused, his jaw tightening, and I could feel the weight of those thoughts. "He's my brother, you know? All I got, him and Sarah. They're why I keep pushin', even when I'm tired."

I wanted to tell him how much it meant, hearing him talk like this, but the words caught in my throat. I was afraid they'd come out too much, so I just sat there. Letting his story settle over me like a warm blanket. He was so much more than I'd imagined.

"You're a really good dad and brother." I said softly, the only thing I could manage without spilling everything I felt.

Joel huffed. "Tryin' my best." He glanced at me, his eyes searching, and for a moment, I thought he might keep going. But he just shook his head, like he was brushing off the weight of it all.

The sitcom laugh track faded as a commercial started, and Joel's hand slid to my thigh, his touch warm. The air between us shifted. Joel's thumb traced slow circles on my thigh, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through me. His eyes locked on mine, darker now, but there was a hesitation in them, a softness that hadn't been there earlier.

He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against my lips. His hand slid up to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheek, and then he kissed me. It wasn't the desperate kiss from earlier. This was soft and deliberate. My breath caught, and I melted into him. My hands finding his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart under the worn fabric of his t-shirt.

I kissed him back, deeper, my fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer, needing to feel him. His hands slid to my waist, guiding me onto his lap. The oversized shirt bunching around my hips. The kiss stayed slow, exploratory, his lips moving against mine with a care that made my heart race. His fingers digging in just enough to hint at the hunger still simmering beneath the surface. I rocked against him, feeling him harden beneath me, and a soft moan escaped me, breaking the quiet.

"So pretty." he growled, but his hands were gentle as they slid under the shirt, tracing the curve of my spine. His touch sending shivers across my skin. He tugged the shirt up, slow and deliberate, and I lifted my arms, letting him pull it over my head. The cool air hit my skin, and I shivered, but his hands were there, warm and steady. His lips finding my neck, kissing a slow path down to my collarbone.

I arched into him, my hands roaming his chest, tugging at his t-shirt until he leaned back, letting me pull it off. His skin was warm and I traced the lines of his shoulders, my fingers greedy for every inch of him. He groaned softly as I rocked against him again, the friction sparking heat between us, and his hands slid to my core.

"Need you again" I whispered, my voice shaky, and he kissed me again, deeper this time. His tongue teasing mine as he lifted his hips, undoing his sweatpants just enough to free himself. I sank onto him, slow, the stretch making me gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Joel," I moaned, the fullness making me feel sore.

"Fuck, you gonna feel this good everytime?" he rasped, his hands guiding my hips, setting a slow, steady rhythm. His eyes stayed on mine, intense, like he was memorizing every moment, every sound I made. The couch creaked beneath us, the sitcom's chatter a faint buzz in the background, but all I could focus on was him and the way he filled me.

I moved with him, my hips rolling, savoring the slow build, the way each thrust sent sparks through me. His hands roamed, one cupping my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple, drawing a whimper from my lips. "You like that, huh?" he teased, his voice low, flirty, and I nodded, biting my lip.

"Talk to me." he said. His voice breathy but playful, and his grin was wicked. His grip tightening as he thrust up harder, making me gasp.

"Fuck—I like— everything you do Joel." I let out breathy and desperate.

The pace shifted, his movements growing rougher, more demanding. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me down to meet each thrust, the angle hitting that spot inside me that made my vision blur. I cried out, my nails raking down his chest, leaving faint red lines, and he moaned back.

"Fuck, look at you," he said, his voice thick with lust, his eyes raking over me. "You take me so good." His words sent a thrill through me, and I moved faster, chasing the heat coiling tight in my core. My hands move to grip the base of the couch behind him.

His hand slid between us, finding my clit, rubbing tight circles that made me tremble, the pleasure overwhelming. "Joel, I'm—" I gasped, my words breaking as the edge rushed closer, my body tensing.

"C'mon, let me feel you again." he urged, his voice rough, flirty, his hips snapping up to meet mine. His words pushed me over, my orgasm crashing through me. My body shuddering as I clenched around him, crying out his name. He groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. With a few more, he followed, his release hot and intense, his hands holding me close as he spilled inside me.

We stayed there, panting, my forehead pressed to his, our breaths mingling. His hands softened, sliding up my back, and he kissed me, slow and gentle, a contrast to the roughness of moments ago.

He grabbed a throw blanket off the arm of the couch, wrapping it around me , and helped me off his lap, his touch tender. "Let's clean up," he said, his voice low, warm.

In the bathroom, the steam curled around us as we stepped under the warm spray, his fingers grazing my waist innocently, as he pulled me close for a quick kiss. I laughed, swatting his chest when his hands wandered lower, he stepped back to let me rinse off.

After, I stood at the sink doing my extensive skincare routine getting ready for bed. Joel leaned against the doorframe, shaking his hair dry with the towel, smirking.

"The hell is all of that?" he asked, his voice low, teasing, as he nodded at the array of bottles and jars lined up on the counter.

"Skincare?" I shot back, glancing at him with a sarcastic raise of my brow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "What happened to face soap and lotion?"

"Right here." I lifted two bottles, shaking them lightly with a grin. "I'll let you try these. Feels nice."

Joel's smirk faded, replaced by a skeptical squint as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Nah, I'm good. Don't need all that fancy shit."

"Oh, come on," I said, my voice softening, a playful pout forming. "Please? Just a little." I tilted my head, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes, knowing they'd wear him down.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his resolve visibly cracking. "Fine."

I grinned, blushing that he cracked for me. "Sit—no, wait, stand here." I hopped up onto the counter, settling on the edge, my legs dangling as I gestured for him to come closer. Joel stepped between my legs, his hands hovering near my thighs. He eyed the bottles warily as I picked up my cleanser.

"Relax, it's not gonna burn your skin off." I teased, squirting a small amount of cleanser onto my fingers and warming it between my palms. I leaned in, my hands finding his face, smoothing the product over his cheeks and jaw with slow, careful strokes. His skin was warm, rough with faint stubble. He tensed at first, his eyes squinting to mine like he wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Okay, now rinse that off", I nudged his shoulder to the direction of the sink. He leaned down to the sink and I watched the way his back muscles moved. He reached for the towel, grinning to himself "Can't believe I'm doing this shit."

He walked back in between my legs. I switched to a serum, dabbing it onto his forehead, cheeks, and chin, then began a light massage, my fingers gliding in gentle circles over his temples and along his jawline.

His shoulders relaxed, and he let out a low hum, his eyes half-closing. "What do you need all this shit for, anyway?" he asked, his voice soft

I smiled, my fingers still moving, pressing lightly into the tension around his eyes. "To stay pretty for you," I said, my tone flirty and slow.

Joel's hands found my waist, his touch light, fingers curling against the oversized shirt I slipped back on. "You're always pretty," he said, his eyes still closed. I smiled to myself, blushing from the compliment I can't believe I'm receiving from him.

I finished rubbing in the serum and grabbed my moisturizer. Rubbing it in with soft motions. His hands still on me. My fingers lingering for a moment before I pull back.

"All done." I said softly, then leaned in, pressing a quick, gentle peck to his lips. His hands tightened on my waist, holding me there for a beat longer, and I felt the heat of his smile against my mouth.

"See! It was relaxing. You liked it. I'll add the rest of the products next time." I said teasing.

He snorted, shaking his head, but the grin on his face gave him away. "Yeah, right. C'mon let's go to bed. Got plans for tomorrow," he said, his fingers stroking my hair.

I perked up, my stomach dropped with nerves. "What? Where?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "You'll see. Ain't tellin' you, so don't try."

"Not even a hint?" I pouted, but my smile gave me away.

"Nope. You'll like it."

He led me to his room, his hand brushing the small of my back. We climbed back into his bed, the messy sheets cool against my skin. Joel pulled me close, his arm heavy around my waist. His warmth enveloped me, his breath steady against the back of my neck.

"Thank you for today." I said whispering, nudging my face deeper into the pillow.

"Sleep," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, his lips brushing my shoulder. "Goodnight."

His breathing slowed, a soft rumble in his chest, and I knew he was asleep. I let my eyes drift shut, the thought of tomorrow's mystery plans lingering as I followed him into sleep. In his arms.

[vivyen-qwq]

Can we please talk about Knuckles history/ past?

I just saw a tick tock video, which topping was sad history and showed pictures of Movie Sonic, Tails, Knuckles (and that fanmade movie Shadow version).

That made me think.

When I was a kid, I always saw Knuckles as my favorite character because he was cool, red, and strong. But today, he is my favorite because of his sad story. And I personally think that he has the most sadest story of all Sonic characters. Allow me to explain:

1. He has no real family. His entire race died because they wanted to use the Chaos and the Master Emerald for evil stuff. They all died, and Tikal sacrificed herself to seal Chaos. So Knuckles had to grow up by himself, hunting/ finding food, without a mother or father or anyone, all by himself, alone for 16 years. I mean, yes, the little Chaos are there to keep him company, but they can't talk or take care of him much of him.

2. His feelings: He is naive and believed Eggman several times and teamed up with him, despite knowing that Eggman was evil, but still tried to see the good in him, which was all for nothing, because Eggman used him. Then we have Rouge, the flying bat thieve who is trying to get the Master Emerald. She would fight and flirt her way through to get what she wanted and now image. This boy never had someone to love him, so he doesn't really know what love is (I guess) and now imagine how it would feel to have a girl flirting with you, but not being sure if she is serious about this or just wants the Master Emerald. This makes Knuckles even more insecure than he already is because he is constantly alarmed when someone calls out Rouges' name like we saw in the Tails tube video.

3. Angel Island: Like I mentioned in the first point, Knuckles' ancestors wanted to use the power of chaos for evil stuff, so Knuckles wants to fix his ancestor's mistakes by guarding and protecting the island without any help from others. But the problem is, if he doesn't take the other's help, then he will never be free from that burden. Everyone can be on earth and go wherever they desire, but he can't. He is trapped on the island because he knows that no one except him will guard the Master Emerald without even a "thank you". A lot of people are not seeing how much Knuckles does to protect others by staying on Angel Island and protecting that Emerald.

Also, he is the only one who can communicate with the M.E. to neutralize the Chaos Emeralds' power. He will forever be bound to that big responsibility, whether he likes it or not. He is never going to be free, and he knows it. That's why he sees no real purpose in life except for having fun and doing your best (what he said in the Twitter takeover). I mean, yes, he leaves the island to watch "One Punch Man" at Cream's and Vanilas' place, but guess who will probably use that to his advantage: Eggman.

4. His friends: Sonic seems to be the only one who really cares about Knuckle's lonelynes. When they had that short, deep talk during Frontiers, Sonic said that his friends were there to support him. But in the last Twitter takeover, when it was mentioned that Knuckles had a fan, he talked very low of himself, seeing himself as a character who doesn't or shouldn't have fans. Sonic told him to be nicer to his fans, and Amy asked him about his personality, where he replied that everything sucks. It was quite obvious that Knuckles spoke very low of himself, but Tails tried to brush him off.

Why wouldn't his friends try to be more supporting, maybe saying that it wasn't really his fault? Or trying to make him see the good things in himself?

Like, Tails got into a big group hug when they were told that Tails didn't have a home back then. Or when they talk about Maria when Shadow is there, it is a sensitive topping, and they are making sure not to hurt Shadow's feelings. Or when Sonic had that dream about him saving the city and no one noticing, they gave him therapy.

But Knuckles doesn't get that treatment?

Yes, Sonic talked to him in Frontiers, but why not in the takeover? Why not get more support for him?

So yeah, that's what I've been thinking.

Knuckles sure had some character development, but it doesn't change his history or the fact that he will forever have to stay on the floating island.

I really would like it if someone stayed by his side and visited him sometimes so Knuckle could have some rest or simply would have someone to talk to for at least once in a while.